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assortedseaglass · 1 year

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The Seamstress & The Sailor - Chapter Seven

Tom Bennett x OFC

[Masterlist]

Warnings: Language, World On Fire Spoilers

Word Count: 3.7K

Note: I like to imagine the banner is of Tom writing letters in his bunk. Can't wait for Chapter Eight!

November 1939

Dear Tom,

Another letter, I am impressed.

This one almost slipped me by – Dot opened the door when Dennis Warley came by with the post. I wanted to make some new trousers and ordered a pattern from the haberdashers, and it came with your letter. Apparently he said it’s good men don’t want me because dadda has someone to look after him when he’s old. You know what Dot’s like. Cora said she launched herself at Dennis and the post almost wasn’t delivered.

Her and Cora are still at the factory, though missing your Lois and Connie enormously. We had a letter from Albie yesterday. He’s in France now, helping with the refugees from Poland. Luckily he’s not been in too much danger. With them and Albie off in Europe, and you at sea, our world has become a little lonelier.

There was a dance the other night at The Palais, though the women outranked the men by about four to one. Makes a change. There is a great deal less drunkenness and wandering hands, but we do miss you all. And I’d happily exchange Walter Watson. I don’t suppose you’ll have heard about that? Was in France for two weeks and got invalided out. Not shot by the enemy like he told us, worst luck. Albie said in his letter that Walter was having it off with a Polish girl when her father found them. Well, he’s come back with his arm in a sling and is somehow as handsy as ever. Tried to put his hand up my skirt. Even Queenie Warren told him where to go. She’s been ever so down in the mouth since you all left, men were her sole source of entertainment, though I heard her and Frank Smith have been writing.

Cora is blue as well. Her Roger has been training every hour God sends. They’re expecting the RAF to start regular flights, though what, we’re not allowed to know. I suppose, that’s my main news – Roger got me a job at the Air Transport Auxiliary. I’m making planes, constructing the wings mostly. I love the smell of the metal and the oil, and working with my hands. Roberta is here too, though she’s driving the goods vans. Hattie and Jude have left to help the Land Army prepare for spring. They’re not too far away but they work round the clock.

I was listening to the wireless when I got your letter. There have been rumours that the government will ask most women to do war work next year. There goes the hope we’d be down Belle Vue in the spring. I’m glad, though, that the government has realised we are capable of lifting more than a hairbrush and lipstick, even if it has come at the cost of war. We’re more than just objects to colour men’s lives. Perhaps with all this war work, more of us will start wearing trousers and Dennis Warley can piss off. They mentioned rationing, too. Think it’ll affect the likes of Robina Chase more than us, but I don’t think Dadda will manage without sugar in his tea. Heaven forbid they cut eggs and bacon. Of course, that’ll mean no new clothes for a long while. I don’t mind but Dot will be distraught.

Dadda’s been spending a lot of time with yours. They go out on these long walks round the dockyard. Sometimes they even stay up later than me. I can see them in your kitchen, just talking. It did make me laugh the other day – sat there in their chairs by the fire, they look just like Mrs O’Connell and Mrs Flaherty down the road. But then I suppose, they have each other because they lost their husbands. Now, our dads’ have each other because you and Albie have gone.

What is it like there? I want to hear everything. How are the other lads? I hope you’re getting along. There’s a map on the wall at the factory and when I look at all that ocean, I imagine you in a little paper boat skittering across is. There’s not a day that goes by when I don’t think of Albie, and of you. Do you think His Majesty will let you home for Christmas? Good for morale to let his soldiers come home. We’re hoping Albie will.

I had the thought that I should speak in letters from now on. Everyone is always telling me how quiet I am, yet here I’ve been writing pages and pages to you. I know I’m not good at talking, not like the others, but I can say it here – I miss you. Please, for me and for your dad, keep yourself safe. And write again soon.

Your friend,

Bess.

P.S. Make sure you write to Douglas, he’s suffering from missing you both.

Bess placed the finished letter in its envelope and wrote the address.

Tom Bennett

HMS Exeter

c/o Royal Navy Auxiliary

Portsmouth

Once the ink was dry and she had traced her finger over his name once or twice, Bess ate the remaining crust of her toast, drew on her blue jumper and cycled to the Air Transport Auxiliary factory. Straddling the cool metal of the planes as she drove nuts and bolts into their wings, Bess thought of her mother. She and Douglas had been courting during the Great War, but unlike Bess and her sisters, all she had to do with her time was wait. Wait for Douglas to come home with nothing else to occupy her thoughts. Bess was sick with worry, so much so that when she woke in the mornings without the churning of her stomach, she felt something was wrong. It wasn’t until sleep had faded and she remembered the war that the feeling returned, and she felt normal again. These few hours of respite at the factory, while they didn’t sway her fear, certainly calmed her. And who knows where these planes might go? Over the heads of Albie, or Tom, defending them from above? Into sun-kissed clouds, skirting heaven? And here she was, one of the girls making them fly.

By the time Bess finished her shift, grey clouds were low over Manchester and night was descending.

“Do you want a lift honey? Looks like it’s gonna chuck it down.” Roberta asked as they left the hangar. Bess declined, and they went their separate ways. Along with the other women, all covered in dirt and sweat, she meandered towards the factory gate, where a group of jeering men stood in a circle. At their feet, someone was on the floor, scrabbling to reach paper that was blowing away in the wind. As she got closer, Bess saw that they were boys, not yet eighteen perhaps. Except for one. Walter Watson.

“You’re a fucking disgrace,” he was saying to the man on the floor. “Handing out that horse shit.” The boys around Walter laughed. As they did so, the man on the ground stood. He was taller and broader than them, his face craggy with woe and as he turned, Bess saw the weary eyes of Douglas Bennett. She continued walking forward as passers-by ignored the altercation.

“Fucking coward,” one of the boys said. “Stood here selling your fucking peace paper when our lads are out fighting for their lives. For your life!” The youth jabbed bony his finger into Douglas’ chest. Bess was feet from them now, and still Douglas did nothing. It made her proud not to see him back down.

It was easy to infiltrate the circle; she was the smallest of this beastly party and each man was too focused on their abuse of Douglas to notice.

“You know Walter got shot!?”

“That’s not what I heard.”

They froze, and every face turned slowly towards her. Grease streaked her face and she reeked of metal and oil. The hands that had been folded across her chest slipped into her pockets and she leant slightly on one leg, hip jutting just enough to remind them of her womanhood. Some of the younger boys, who knew Bess only by her reputation, swallowed. Walter, who had known Bess long enough to watch her grow from witchy little girl to one of the most bewitching women in Longsight, looked ready to combust. Caught somewhere between anger and fear.

“Our Albert said a Polish fella broke your arm when he caught you balls deep in his daughter.”

Walter spluttered and his gang of underlings remained silent, shocked by the coarseness of her language. Douglas laughed.

“Did he really?” His smile was broad as he looked at Bess and she beamed back. She snatched the papers that Walter held in his hand and passed them to Douglas. Neither spoke and the argument was won; one by one, the boys shuffled home.

When the last of them had disappeared from sight, Douglas spoke. “Thanks, love.” Bess merely shrugged and began walking away. “If you’re heading home I’ll give you a lift.”

“Free bus ticket?” Bess said.

“No,” Douglas laughed quietly, and walked towards the bike resting against the factory wall. “Hop on.” He held the bike still as she perched on the handlebars and leant back against his shoulder. Bess shrieked at the first few wobbly turns of the pedal as Douglas adjusted to both of their weight, but soon, they were racing along the streets of Manchester towards home. “Used to take Lois home like this if she’d had a long shift.”

They were silent for the rest of the journey. Occasionally, they saw someone they knew and Bess would wave. From behind her, Douglas touched his cap. When she hopped of the bike outside her house, she turned to Douglas. “How is Lois getting on?”

“They’re working her hard. It’s an awful lot of toing and froing between camps. But she said she gets a thrill from singing for everyone. Nice to be doing her bit, you know.” He looked at the ground as he spoke, and Bess hummed.

“And Tom?” Bess tried to keep her voice measured.

“Barely hear from him. Last letter said he was on shore leave for a day or two, enjoying himself too much, no doubt”.

“I’m sure they’re fine, they can look after themselves.” He nodded solemnly. “Goodnight, Douglas.”

✼　　✼　　✼　　✼　　✼　　✼

Over the next few weeks Bess developed a routine that, while unable to ease her worry, made the time go faster. It went thus; each morning she arose before her family, as always, and began breakfast. Cora would join her, and together they fed the family before each parting ways to their various jobs. Between nine and five, she worked at the factory. Lunchtimes were taken at the dockyard with Fergal. At five o’clock she helped Douglas Bennett hand out Peace News, and at six he cycled them home. The evenings she wasn’t with Roberta, Hattie and Jude, or repairing clothes (she had taken the task to make a little more money), she spent at the Bennett house. Be it cooking dinners, listening to Douglas’ opinions on the government and the war, or simply sitting in amicable silence, Bess found she increasingly enjoyed his company.

She had always liked Douglas. When the children were little Fergal, Etta, Douglas and Marie had taken them on picnics to Blackpool or Southport. Tom and Albie always ran into the surf and terrorised Cora and Lois. Dot was still small, making sandcastles while Etta and Marie talked the day away. Inevitably, Bess found herself trailing Douglas as he pointed out patterns in the clouds or interesting shells. Even now, Bess was drawn in by the gentle eyes set in his stoic face. The small smiles he offered when something had pleased him. The unshakable sense that maybe, just maybe, Douglas Bennett was the best of men.

Tonight was no different. Bess sat in a chair opposite Douglas, finishing some silk stockings for Queenie Warren. How she had been able to afford them, God only knew, but Bess enjoyed the feel of them slipping over her skin like water. Douglas was reading the newspaper. Every now and then, when Bess paused to rest her eyes, she caught Douglas glancing into the middle distance.

“Memories or visions?” she asked him softly. He sighed and removed his glasses.

“These days, they all blur into one horrible nightmare.” The silence resumed. Bess cast aside the stockings and took Douglas’ hand in hers, gently rubbing it with her thumb. He studied her a moment.

“You’re an odd lass,”

“So people say,”

“And a kind one.” She paused her movements and looked at him. “You should be spending time with people your own age, not barmy old men like me.”

“You’re not old. And I like spending time with you.” It wasn’t a lie. Douglas was a quiet, calm realist much like herself. Perhaps, if she had been born fifty, even thirty years ago, she would have liked him more. A thought occurred to her.

“I think you and Tom are more alike than either of you care to admit.”

Douglas huffed by way of a reply, then spoke. “He’s more like his mother than me. They both are. I don’t suppose you remember our Marie too much?”

“I remember her laugh, and that mam loved her.”

“Yeah,” he smiled and looked at Bess’ hand stroking his own. “Everyone did.” He paused once more before continuing. “What if Tom ends up like me, Bess?”

“What do you me-”

“What if he comes back from this God-awful war a shadow of himself? He’s so bright and full of life, like his mother, what if it disappears? If he comes back at all-”

Bess thought about her next words carefully. “We can’t know if they’ll come back. Tom, Lois or Albie. But we can live in the knowledge that death won’t diminish our devotion to them. You and I may not agree with war, but they’ve gone not because they blindly followed everyone else, but because they want to defend those who can’t defend themselves. And I am so proud of them. My Albie, and Lois and Tom.”

They were silent for a while as Douglas considered her words. Then, quite unexpectedly, he kissed her hand and placed his own on her cheek. The image of his son flashed across his face and Bess blushed.

“Off you go, Bess. Your family will be missing you.” The abruptness of their evening’s end took Bess by surprise, but she gathered her sewing, kissed Douglas’ cheek and left.

Dot was warming her feet by the fire when she opened the door. Cora was reading next to her.

“Dadda’s down the pub,” Dot spoke without looking up. “But you’ve stolen his drinking partner.” Cora pushed Dot’s leg with her foot, not looking up from her book.

“What do you mean, Dot?” Bess was in no mood to argue. Dot looked her sister dead in the eye.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Douglas.”

“Yes?”

“It’s not proper,”

“For God’s sake,”

“All these men on the go,”

“Me and Douglas are not ‘on the go’. And which men!?”

“There’s a letter on the bed for you.”

Bess’ heart stopped. “A letter?”

“Yes. Another letter.” Dot tried to sound aloof but her need for gossip got the better of her and she sat up in the chair. “Who’s writing to you, Bess? That man Tom punched?” She received no answer, for Bess was racing up the stairs to their bedroom. The letter was set against her pillow, and at seeing the familiar scrawl of her name, her heart leapt. Bess ripped open the envelope and found her seat in the window.

Dear Bess,

Thanks for your letter. Your writing is doing wonders for my reputation – the other boys don’t get half as many as I do, and most of them are from their mams. We’ve got a wall full of pictures that girls have sent the lads. Fancy sending one to add? Maybe you all oiled up at the factory. Lot of lonely sailors in need of entertainment, and God knows ENSA won’t be sent out here.

I wish I could be down The Palais. Not because I miss the dancing mind. We’ve not seen a woman for weeks and the thought of them all dancing together makes me weak in a way that has nothing to do with my sea legs. Tell us about it in your next letter, with all the details. Which reminds me, lay off Queenie Warren. I know she’s annoying but she means well. I don’t think you know how intimidating The Vaughn Sisters are!

I’m writing this as we come into dock. Can’t tell you where exactly we are, for obvious reasons, but I’m looking forward to putting my feet on solid ground for a few days. Resupply means shore leave. I know you’d spend it looking in museums, walking and hunting down fabric, but for sailors it’s a different game altogether. It’ll be straight to the pub for rum and beer, before hitting the town. All hands on deck there, if you see what I mean.

I’m getting along with the other lads just fine, thank you for your confidence. I’ve got plans to spend shore leave with Vic and Norman. Vic’s Mancunian too, reminds me a bit of your Albie. Head screwed on proper and he’d have your back in a fight. You’d like him. Norman’s a little green, but Vic and I will put him right. Said we’d bring him to Longsight when we’re home, I have a feeling Dot would eat him up. He’d love it. She likes a fella she can boss around doesn’t she, your Dot? Norman will probably bring Terry along – he’s the wireless operator. Wouldn’t say boo to a goose, which is unfortunate considering he’s in the navy.

You’ll be glad to hear I’ve kept out of trouble, though Campbell and Ginger have me contemplating the many uses of hawser every now and again. Campbell’s First Officer, decent enough bloke but he’s a posh twat. Doesn’t know how to speak to us but God, he does try. Ginger’s actually called Henry. From the East End and thinks he’s a real geezer. Always bossing Norman around and lording it over the rest of us – he was an Able Seaman before the war so even though we’re all the same rank he thinks he can give us orders. No-one would care if I pushed him off the dock so I might give it a go. Burn this letter in case they catch me, it’s evidence.

Sounds like Walter has had all hands on deck too. Surprised he managed to pull a girl, didn’t think the bloke could kick his way out of a wet paper bag. I have half a mind to kill him before the Jerries do. If his arm hasn’t healed by the time I get back, you’d better tell him to watch out. Dennis Warley too. Don’t think he’s one to comment on what people look like when the rat-faced pillock hasn’t touched a woman since he came out the womb. I wouldn’t change you for the world, Bess, and anyone would be lucky to have you by their side whether that’s your dad or your husband.

Look after yourself, and give a kiss to Cora and Dot for me.

Tom.

p.s. I’ve written to dad.

Bess reread the letter, trying to hunt out any details she might have missed. She couldn’t help but be disappointed by Tom’s letters. They were never as long as hers, and he refrained from telling her anything of substance, just the goings on of the ship. It wasn’t like their evenings in the kitchen, when he’d tell her everything. Perhaps, he needed the silence and Bess supposed he couldn’t send her a blank page to signal his internal thoughts. She tucked the letter in a book, kissed the picture of Tom she kept in its pages, ignored her visions of Tom in the arms of a strange woman while on shore leave, and wandered downstairs.

“So? Who’s your fancy man?” Cora looked up at Dot’s question.

“Who says it’s a man?” Dot looked annoyed at her sister’s answer but said nothing, switching on the wireless to fill the silence.

“Warsaw now lies in ruins, while Germany and Russia continue to carve out Poland between them. At sea, the Royal Navy are focusing their efforts on scouring the South Atlantic in search of the notorious German pocket battleship Admiral Graf Spee. Rumoured to be somewhere off the coast of Argentina, the deadliest of Hitler’s Kriegsmarine has been involved in a number of skirmishes with merchant ships. There is a feeling that the Allied Forces are simply hoping that the inevitable will never come to pass-”

“Tom’s out that way, isn’t he?” Cora said softly.

Bess nodded. “Somewhere, yes.” The three sisters were silent, portraits of Albie and Etta looking down at them from the mantel as they waited for Fergal to arrive home. Across the road, Douglas switched off his own wireless, donned his cap and made his way to the pub. Bess watched him through the window as he made his way down the street, and her stomach gave a lurch. All these lonely souls left at home, severed from their loved ones with no knowing if or when they’d see them again. The horrors of war were unimaginable, but nobody talks about the living dead left behind.

Note: Happy Easter everyone! Sorry this chapter has taken a while, I’ve been so busy! I know some people reading this haven’t seen WoF (you should) – Douglas is a bus conductor. We’re with Tom A LOT for the next chapter 😊 While my paternal grandmother made munitions, my maternal grandmother (a seamstress) made planes – glad to have given the girls the same jobs as my grandmas’. The Palais, where Bess goes dancing, was where my Grandma used to go too. World on Fire is so intertwined with my family due to where it is set, it makes my heart sing! Here is my maternal grandmother looking fantastic.

Tags: @aemonds-wifey @multiple-fandoms-girl @jessssica1234 @babyblue711 @anditsmywholeheart @allthefandomtherapy @valerie977 @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @chainsawsangel @greenowlfactif @thelittleswanao3 @yentroucnagol @skikikikiikhhjuuh @just-emmaaaa @beiigegalx

#ewan mitchell #tom bennett #tom bennett x ofc #ewan mitchell x reader #world on fire #the seamstress & the sailor

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booksteaandtoomuchtv · 1 year

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In The Lonely Hour (1/10)

A03 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Summary: A collection of canon-compliant(ish) one-shots that provide glimpses of Killian's life based on the album "In the Lonely Hour" by Sam Smith.

Mind on My Money After turning his back on a corrupt king, Killian finds purpose in piracy.

“We'll sail under the crimson flag and give our enemies no quarter.”

Cheers rose from the men - there was far more money to be had in piracy and, apparently, more honour. Killian marched toward the helm, exuding confidence and daring any man to entertain a moment’s fantasy of mutinying against his command. It seemed the cheers were earnest in their support of his command and his newest career path for the former soldiers.

He expected some of the men to hesitate when he proclaimed that they fly the crimson flag rather than a black flag. But, it seemed the senseless loss of their beloved former captain had hardened their hearts as effectively as it had his. He felt the heavy, lifeless body of his brother in his arms, still warm even as his eyes dimmed without the presence of Liam behind them any longer. Anger filled him as he pushed away the intrusive memory, that had stolen his breath and made his hands sweat so that he had to tighten his hold on the ship’s wheel. He welcomed the anger, it made him feel stronger than the desolate despair that had previously encompassed him.

For months, the anger gave him purpose. It fuelled him, empowered him, and drove him in his tireless campaign against the King's navy. His reckless actions and calm leadership in battles painted a brutal reputation that his men boasted about at every port after they had a few too many, but well-earned, pints.

As he watched a heavily-burdened frigate on the horizon try to change course at the sight of his ship, Captain Jones smiled in anticipation of the chase and battle to come. Killian felt a glimmer of warmth - was that pride? - in his chest that his deeds had the best captains of the King’s armada fleeing whenever they caught a flicker of a crimson red flag or navy hull in their spy glasses.

“Raise the crimson, boys!” Killian’s smile was near feral, adrenaline blazing through his body as he steered the Jolly Roger to intercept the naval ship. The sharp clip of orders, the rumble of cannons being rolled into position, and the excited shouts of his crew as they caught up with the Anthem of the Realm rose from the deck and fed the fire in his veins. He never felt more alive than he did in these quiet moments right before…

BOOM!

The crack of wood splintering was met with cheers as the Jolly’s cannon hit her mark. Water splashed onto the deck as the Anthem’s answering cannon fire fell short. Killian gave the wheel to Mr Starkey and jumped down to join his men on the deck. As the sea began beating at the hull, the waters angry by the disturbance caused by the battling ships, he took his place to lead the boarding party as his first mate brought them closer to the pride of the royal navy.

The steady thud of heavy grappling hooks hitting and scraping along the deck made Killian smile. The navy was coming to them. It would be an easier fight if they didn’t have to traverse to the other ship. The Jolly groaned in protest as the boarding lines pulled her toward the larger ship, but her crew held off the sailors as they attempted to cross by cutlass and arrow.

The waters were as crimson as the flag he flew by the time he stood on the deck of the Anthem, her captain trembling at the end of his blade. The captain had been found locked in his quarters, tucked safely away, while his men died around him. His words were desperate words that Killian had heard countless times, “There are chests of gold below deck. I can lead you to them. Please, will you spare me?”

“We’ve relieved the ship of her burdens before finding you cowering beneath your bed, Captain.”

He returned to the Jolly Roger, her hull lower in the water with the pilfered jewels, gold, food, and barrels of fine rum. He cut the lines holding her to the Anthem. Starkey was already pulling the Jolly away from her latest victim. He watched with a satisfied smile as the finest ship in the King’s navy and the last stronghold the king held over these seas sank to the seafloor, taking her craven captain down with her.

The sunset filled the sky with brilliant oranges and reds, and the seas calmed once they claimed the Anthem. His crew celebrated their new fortunes and the lives they fought to keep that day. As they toasted their captain for claiming ownership and power of the seas of the realm, for bringing them wealth, for leading them to victories, for fighting the Kraken, for charming mermaids, and for even more ridiculous myths as the night grew older, he watched the stars.

The anger that had kept him such constant company had started to fade. As a star darted across the night sky, Killian found himself hoping that he could find something, anything to fill the void it was leaving in its stead.

#Killian Jones #Captain Swan #CS fanfic #Liam Jones #angst #lots of angst #i mean the source material is all angst #In the Lonely Hour #Sam Smith #it was going to be Lewis Capaldi but it was too devastating #the happy ending is in canon #because you won't find it here #fanfic by Jas #manip by Jas #it's me - I'm Jas

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synthient · 2 years

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Okay, here’s a blow-by-blow of differences in the earlier draft of the script (note: I’m comparing it with the published version of the script, which also has some differences from the final movie. so I won’t be mentioning stuff like the beta 6th One reveal)

[Main changes:]

When Trinity meets Neo at the club, she says “I know why you left your family and friends, why you left your home to come to this city.”

The “IRS d-base” she hacked was apparently in Kansas City

Neo explicitly lives in Chicago. Morpheus spends his construct speech talking about "this is Chicago as it existed in the 20th century, and this is Chicago now" instead of "the world" (which has the funny side effect of making it sound like the apocalypse was localized to Chicago. the rest of the world is fine, maybe)

Choi and Apoc are the only two characters whose races are described (Chinese and Black, respectively). Both were cast as white guys in the actual movie

In the woman in red scene, it’s revealed at the very beginning that they’re in a training simulation, so there’s no twist. Morpheus is more cynical about everyone in the Matrix being the enemy, and doesn’t mention wanting to save them. The description of the pointed shot of the cop is also missing

Mouse doesn’t go on his tangent about tasty wheat, and doesn’t try to be a “digital pimp”

Morpheus comes off as pushier about getting Neo to accept that he's the One. A lot of the intensity was dialed back in the next draft

The scene where Cypher and Smith meet for dinner is absent. Cypher's betrayal isn't revealed until right up when he shoots Tank

Oddly, the Agents say "Reagan has failed" instead of "the informant has failed," which would have been confusing without the earlier Mr. Reagan scene

Cypher's villain monologue is shorter, and doesn't really focus on his bitterness at Morpheus/belief that he was tricked into taking the red pill

Cypher talks about Neo's "pretty blue eyes"

There’s an odd mention of Zion’s mainframe being “only accessible through the Matrix”

There’s a small, cut exchange where the soldiers start panicking and wanting to evacuate as Neo and Trinity shoot up the building, while the Agents order them to remain at their posts (making it clearer that the cops and soldiers were human)

Smith is the first Agent to get mowed down by the helicopter instead of the last

Smith’s shots at the helicopter miss. The helicopter doesn’t crash, and Neo doesn’t save Trinity by holding onto the cable. They just land safely on a roof

There’s a slightly extended version of Neo’s race to room 303 (including Jones popping out of a girl scout troop)

Neo is described as taking over Smith like a reverse Agent-assimilation, rather than exploding him (which might have looked a little less goofy)

Neo's phonebooth monologue is shorter, explicitly aimed at whoever "built" the Matrix, and pretty basic and unphilosophical

[Small but extremely funny changes:]

Secret service sphincter (secret service sphincter)

The bug extraction descriptions were edited to make them marginally less horny (it’s still described as a speculum in both versions)

We end up banging the GET IT. DO YOU GEDDIT. IT’S WOMB IMAGERY pots and pans a little less loudly

[Walks up to semi-conscious patient in a hospital bed and puts a Sick Pair Of Shades on him]. Also implies there was going to be less difference between the Matrix and real world costumes designs. Also food for the norpheus shippers

[with Laurence Fishburne gravitas] lmao wild right

Everyone Says Fuck. a lot. all the fucks (and some of the shits) were tragically lost in the edit

DODGE THIS MUTHERFUCKER

#the matrix

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forensicated · 3 months

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Some more quotes from around series 18/19/20

They seem to be more Smithy (what a surprise!) Gina, Mickey and Dan than most...!

Jack: "Since I'm coming with you I'll drive." Mickey: "There's no need for that!" Jack: "Look - I don’t wanna pull rank on you! Get your jacket!" Jeff Simpson: It feels very invasive having the contents of your wallet photocopied. Mickey: Well you'll live - unlike some!

Gina "There was a time I could drink any officer under the table. You ask the Super at Barton Street, I've still got the scars to prove it. Alright, hands up, you win, there's a good girl. Now, call us a cab." Smithy *giggles drunkenly* "You're a cab" Smithy "Ahh but you've never taken on a Dale Smith before have you?" Receptionist "Can I see your ID again please?" Smithy *annoyed* "You can take a photocopy if you want!" Debbie "In future Smithy, when I make a decision about a C.I.D case, I'd like you to give me the professional courtesy not to question it." Smithy "I wasn't questioning it. You were wrong!" Smithy (to snotty receptionist) Thanks for your help! *walks off muttering* "It's good to know the NHS is in such safe hands" *After seeing Cam and Kerry hug* Smithy: Oi Oi! *Smithy leaning against the front desk - tries to escape as Mr Lovett enters* Mr Lovett: Hey - I want to report a crime!! Smithy: *mutters* I thought you might . . . The old squirrels been digging up your lawn again have they Mr Lovett?! Mr Lovett: Don't you be flippant with me, sunshine!!

Cam: Kerry helped me out … Smithy: I bet she did! There's nothing they like more then to catch us with our defenses down, makes us easy targets. As long as she didn't take advantage… Cam: Thanks for your concern Sarge, but she didn’t. She wouldn’t… Smithy: No? Well you obviously don't know Kerry that well *walks off* Smithy: *leant against the wall holding Andrew - DS McAllister’s son's - hand* Well I don't usually go a lot for kids but er . .he's quite handsome ain't he! Debbie: Would you mind having. . . Smithy: Nah - you're alright! *Talking bout Des and Reg* Gina: Des was his hero! Smithy: Yeah - who recently tried to kill him! *Smithy and Reg are guarding Niamh's body in the Chapel Of Rest - a security guard is patrolling - they think it's Des. Smithy charges at him and pushes him against the wall, pinning his arms behind his back* Reg: LEAVE IT . . TURN AROUND . . . *Smithy makes the bloke turn round* It's the security guard Sarge! Smithy: *Innocently* Is it!? . . .*lets go* Oh - sorry mate . . . your boss said he was gonna cancel you for tonight! Security Guard: Did he? Smithy: Yeah . . still er. . . no hard feelings eh . . . *slaps him on the back* Smithy: "So the brief says to this probationer 'Was that a yes or a no officer?' and as he opened his mouth to speak he threw up all over the witness box." Gabriel: "That probationer wasn't you was it Sarge?" Smithy: "Very funny." Kerry: "Des is just upset because the kid blew him a kiss before driving off." Dale: "Awww!" Des: "Very funny!" Kerry: "Men and their emotions!" *Arches eyebrow and walks off leaving Dale glaring.* Debbie: "Anything interesting?" Mickey: "Well if you get off on checking phone records yes." Juliet: "She's in a good mood" Mickey: "She's always like that when someone tries to pull her." Juliet: "Really?" Mickey: "Yeah - last night apparently." Juliet: "Anyone we know?" Mickey: "Well with Debbie McAllister’s choice in men it could be any number of psychotics." Juliet: "Oh come on, that's a bit unfair isn’t it?" Mickey: "She's always coping off with nutters. Husband ended up shooting himself. Juliet: "Yeah - I heard something about that." Mickey: "Tom Chandler was as sick as they come. But Debbie - she couldn’t get enough of it." Juliet: "Debbie was married to Superintendent Chandler?" Mickey: "Yeah. I don't know who I felt sorry for sorry for the most till the Super shot himself. Juliet: "Wow!" Mickey: "Anyone who gets involved with Debbie McAllister needs their head testing!"

Mickey: *bout Christmas* “I’m sure you had a lovely time with your family at Christmas. But some of us used to dread that poxy tree going up every year. Do you know, all it meant to me was me old man hitting me mother, me mother hitting me old man, and poor little old me on all fours hiding behind the sofa, begging them to stop. Happy bloody Christmas eh?!” *Kid noses in a folder Smithy: "You alright there?" Kid: "Erm, I'm, looking for PC Taviner" Smithy: *Closes folder* "Well you ain't gonna find him in there are ya?" *About the kid that steals the area car* Dale: "He left bout 20 minutes ago." Des: "Didn't you think of holding him till I got back?" Dale: "What for? Visiting a police station in a built up area?"

Man: (in hospital that Mickey and Duncan are visiting) Come on - get us a nurse lads? Mickey: (walking of with Duncan) Breaks your heart, dunnit Man: I heard that!

*Kerry trying to flirt* Kerry: *Sees hole in Dale’s uniform* “Aww look, you’ve ripped your uniform” Dale: “Yeah I did it on a fence. Don’t do that, you’ll make the hole bigger” Kerry: “Got someone who can mend it for you?” Dale: “I can sew” Kerry: “Well show me when you’ve done it, I’ll give you marks out of ten” *Kerry’s continued attempts to flirt, and Smithy’s first response.* Kerry: “Work smarter not harder, isn’t that what you say Sarge?” Dale: “I don’t appreciate it being quoted back at me though” Kerry: “What even when I’m right?” Dale: “Especially when you’re right” Kerry: “You should take it as a compliment Sarge; it means I listen to you!” Dale: “Nah, look, you’ve been working really well all round lately. Focused, intelligent. It’s good to see. Kerry: “As opposed to what? Earlier?” Dale: “Accentuate the positives.” Kerry: “You what?” Dale: “I’m simply swapping compliments with you PC Young; in fact, I may go as far as taking you out for a drink tonight. What do you think?” Kerry: “Don’t you have to ask me first?” Dale: *Rolls his eyes and clears his throat* OK, “Would you, like to come out for a drink with me? And I don’t mean with half the relief this time. Just you and me” Kerry: “When?” Dale: “Tonight.” Kerry: “Love to, yeah” Smithy: "I wonder if the Inspector would think it a good idea to go behind your Sergeants back?" Kerry: "Probably not!" Kerry: "You're down here cos you fancy me" Dale: "You don’t know what you're talking about!" Kerry: "Big brave solider Smithy. The only thing he can't handle is his own emotions. You're such a cliché mate, it’s laughable!" *Kerry starts to undress* Dale: "What you doing?" Kerry: "This is what you're after isn’t it?" Dale: "You what?" Kerry: "Sex without any strings." Dale: "You're behaving like a slag!" Kerry: "Oooh I love it! You treat me like a slag. But you don’t want me to behave like one. Tell me to stop." Dale: *Eyes her warily* "You're making a fool of yourself." Kerry: "Do you want me to stop? I will if you tell me to" *She pulls Smithy's tie off as he grabs her arm. Dale: "I've told ya" *She kisses him* Kerry: "Come on Sarge" Mickey: (To Jim) You’re their FLO. Shouldn’t you be washing up or something Mickey: Maybe it was Jack the Ripper, come back to terrorise the Larkmead Shopping Centre. Smithy to Des "No, I agree with Reg. If you want a pink panda sweetheart you can have one" Des "I don't want one!" *coy* "it's not my colour..."

Smithy: (to Andrea) We're like two lost souls on a boat. Andrea: what boat's that then? Smithy: I've got no idea... listen, listen Andrea: What? Smithy: It's not the size of the vessel... Andrea: No, don't say it! Smithy: but it's the motion of the ocean

Gabriel: Wonder where we'd have gone for my stag party... Smithy: *mutters* Some dive probably... Gabriel: Well it's usually the best man's job isn't it....and that'd probably have been you. Gabriel: I got jealous some times....it was always Smithy this, and Smithy that...and I was like yeah, alright Kerry... Smithy: Alright Gabriel...

Andrea (about Gabriel): You know he's covering something up Smithy Smithy: Well, that makes two of you

Roger: That could have been the shortest stint I've ever seen. Squished like a cat on your first day. Dan: You're all heart Roger: Oh, Me? I'm famous for it.

Smithy: *to Gina* But I forgot! You don't need any help from anyone, ever, do ya! Gina: ....I haven't got the big support network to fall back on! Smithy: The irony is that you have! You just won't let them!

Jack: Well you might think he's corrupt. But I know my officers. Liz: You didn't know about his affair with Andrea Dunbar... Mickey: The point is, he's married to the prosecution barrister. Jack: So? Liz: Which makes him uniquely placed. Mickey: His marriage his rocky. His mistress is dead. Liz: He's at home, feeling sorry for himself. Mickey: McGowan comes along, offers him a nice juicy bung. Liz: Manson uses his wife to gain access to the witness, who suddenly decides to clam up on us. Jack: This is all conjecture. Liz: It's a theory. For which we need evidence. Mickey: Which is where you come in, Guv. It would make things easier round here if we could have your co-operation. There's a couple of Neil Manson's cases we'd like to look into, for evidence of corruption. *Phil knocks* Alright Phil? Phil: Hello Mickey! Jack: Just excuse me a minute will you? Phil...*takes him outside* Did you know about Neil and PC Dunbar? ....Did you? Phil: *looks awkward before nodding* What's this about? Jack: We've got the national crime squad in there making a fool out of me and this department. Liz: *walks out and looks at them* Just going to get a coffee... Jack: I'm just off to the gents, *to Phil* I think you'll find you need to go too

Mickey: Guv Neil: Hello Mickey. What're you guys up to? Jack: *quickly* Shouldn't you be enjoying your time off? You're not going to have any when you get back here.

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quoteoftheweekblog · 11 months

Photo

QUOTE OF THE WEEK 5/6/23 - EDITH WHARTON

' "Ah, in New York, is she?” ‘ (Wharton, 1991, p.203).

REFERENCE

Wharton, E. (1991 [2005] ) ‘The house of mirth’. London: Everyman’s Library. *****

FROM OUR NEW YORK CORRESPONDENT

‘ “Oh, dear I’m so hot and thirsty - and what a hideous place New York is!” ‘ (Wharton, 1991, p.5).

LOVING IT IN ALL WEATHERS

AND LOCATIONS

20th STREET AND 3rd AVENUE MANHATTAN

AND SOHO

…

AND AT ALL TIMES

7 AM WHEN COOLER

AND QUIETER

*****

SEE ALSO

‘ “I’m not really a collector, you see; I simply like to have good editions of the books I am fond of.” ‘ (Wharton, 1991, p.11).

SADLY CHEWED BY MR DUSTY

NOW IN DISGRACE

SORTED

*****

TO OUR NEW YORK CORRESPONDENT FOR THE LOCATION SHOTS

(AND TO MY SON FOR OUR CORRESPONDENT SHOT)

24 DEGREES TODAY

27 DEGREES TOMORROW

XXXX

FROM OUR CORRESPONDENT

https://quoteoftheweekblog.tumblr.com/post/702087368645148672/quote-of-the-week-281122-kiley-reid-the

*****

FOR BOOK GROUP

LAST MONTH OUR TOP READER LEADER …

https://www.waterstones.com/book/the-blessing/nancy-mitford/alex-kapranos/9780241974728

‘This month I have finished The Blessing, by Nancy Mitford …

https://www.waterstones.com/book/dont-tell-alfred/nancy-mitford/sophie-dahl/9780241974704

… and Don’t Tell Alfred, the fourth in the series. This had a lot of parody of political events – clever and amusing, but I enjoyed it less than the others.’

https://www.waterstones.com/book/the-enchanted-april/elizabeth-von-arnim/salley-vickers/9780141191829

‘ … which, like it’s name, is enchanting … ‘

https://www.waterstones.com/book/the-book-of-joy/dalai-lama/desmond-tutu/9781786330444

‘ … continuing … ‘

https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/344972

‘ … very slowly … ‘

https://www.waterstones.com/book/glamorous-powers/susan-howatch/9780006496922

‘ … just started.‘

…

OTHER MEMBERS HAVE ALSO READ (OR ARE READING) …

https://www.waterstones.com/book/st-clares-collection-1/enid-blyton/9781444934823

‘ … I have just started reading Enid Blyton’s St Clare books! They are extremely dated, but light and easy and provide a form of escapism. I remember enjoying them when young.’

…

‘I have read books 22 and 23 of the Morland Dynasty and am reading 24 (out of 35). I love these. They are fiction but the historical element is true to fact.’

https://www.waterstones.com/book/the-mirage/cynthia-harrod-eagles/9780751525465

https://www.waterstones.com/book/the-cause/cynthia-harrod-eagles/9780751525380

https://www.waterstones.com/book/the-homecoming/cynthia-harrod-eagles/9780751525311

…

https://www.waterstones.com/book/the-sunday-philosophy-club/alexander-mccall-smith/9780349139418

I decided to take something light to Cornwall for our holiday, which I had read before.’

https://www.waterstones.com/book/the-darkness/ragnar-jonasson/victoria-cribb/9781405930802

‘That was contrasted by The Darkness by Ragnar Jonasson which was a dark crime novel set in Iceland.’

https://www.waterstones.com/book/espresso-tales/alexander-mccall-smith/9780349119700

‘Since returning home I read Espresso Tales also by A McCall Smith - this was first published in episodes in a newspaper and as such felt bity.’

WHILST THE OTHER HALF …

‘I’m not sure … although he has started the Jonasson.’

AND PROBABLY FINISHED

https://www.waterstones.com/book/any-human-heart/william-boyd/9780141044170

…

https://www.waterstones.com/book/sister/rosamund-lupton/9780749942014

‘It was a very easy and gripping read, but apparently I've completely missed a very clever device which I'm still trying to unravel.’

https://www.waterstones.com/book/the-other-boleyn-girl/philippa-gregory/9780006514008

‘The plotting and deviousness is very difficult to cope with (perhaps it still goes on) and the early marriages and therefore births are quite upsetting.’

…

https://www.waterstones.com/book/the-silk-roads/professor-peter-frankopan/9781408839997

‘I’ve got as far as Hitler … Interestingly he was after the grain of Ukraine amongst other things … And the oil of the middle east. Nothing changes.’

…

https://www.waterstones.com/book/before-the-coffee-gets-cold/toshikazu-kawaguchi/geoffrey-trousselot/9781529029581

‘Strange time travel in a cafe but as uplifting as the reviews suggest.’

*****

BOOK GROUP 2023

JANUARY - JODI PICOULT - ‘WISH YOU WERE HERE’

https://quoteoftheweekblog.tumblr.com/post/707162386989219840/quote-of-the-week-23123-jodi-picoult-and FEBRUARY - LUCY WORSLEY - ‘JANE AUSTEN AT HOME - A BIOGRAPHY’

https://quoteoftheweekblog.tumblr.com/post/709807520542277632/quote-of-the-week-20223-lucy-worsley-there

MARCH - NANCY MITFORD - 'THE PURSUIT OF LOVE’

https://quoteoftheweekblog.tumblr.com/post/712878877446373376/quote-of-the-week-27323-nancy-mitford

APRIL - FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT - 'THE SECRET GARDEN’

https://quoteoftheweekblog.tumblr.com/post/715330809248235520/quote-of-the-week-24423-frances-hodgson MAY - EDITH WHARTON - 'THE HOUSE OF MIRTH’

https://quoteoftheweekblog.tumblr.com/post/719215188629389312/news-story-of-the-week-6623-edith-wharton JUNE - TRACEY CHEVALIER - 'A SINGLE THREAD’ JULY - E.M. FORSTER - 'A ROOM WITH A VIEW’ AUGUST - DAMON GALGUT - 'THE PROMISE’ SEPTEMBER - ALEXANDER MCCALL SMITH - 'THE HOUSE OF UNEXPECTED SISTERS’ OCTOBER - ARAVIND ADIGA - 'SELECTION DAY’ NOVEMBER - BONNIE GARMUS - 'LESSONS IN CHEMISTRY’ DECEMBER - JULES VERNE - 'AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS’

*****

AND THIS IS WHAT WE READ EARLIER

https://quoteoftheweekblog.tumblr.com/bookgroup

*****

QUOTE OF THE WEEK 2011 - 2023

11 EPIC YEARS

https://quoteoftheweekblog.tumblr.com/references

FROM THE ARCHIVE

https://quoteoftheweekblog.tumblr.com/post/678686834123063296/httpswwwtheguardiancombooks2022mar02shirl

*****

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free-pancakes · 3 years

Note

Levi Ackerman, the big shot singer. His melody is too soothing and his all songs are hit. Hanji Zoe, the energetic model.Her beauty and energy is beyond measure.But when they collab for a music video what will happened.Will they become thirsty for each other blood or something will happen 👀👀

ANON omg... oh no I did not expect to fall in love with a famous!AU

oh no oh no oh no oh no i loved this way too much, it straight killed me. I hope you like what i came up with!!

------

It Started with a Spilled Coffee

Levi sat in his dressing room, flipping through a magazine until he reached the page he was looking for. Multiple pictures of Hanji Zoe’s stared back at him, wearing elegant dresses to suits and ties—she had quite the range, he thought. She looked oddly attractive in everything she wore. And most importantly, her serious expressions behind her trendy glasses meant business, and that’s all he needed. The famous model was hired to act for his newest music video, all thanks to his agent, the guy who could make anything happen, Erwin Smith.

Erwin said he’d get along fine with Hanji, as she was an old friend of his. The clock on his dresser sounded an alarm, signaling 5 minutes to his call time. Levi took another look at the magazine, content that he’d get to work with someone who looked quite professional and put-together, and turned off the alarm. All the actors he had been working with recently had been quite drama-filled and needy, and all he wanted was to have a nice, quiet week of filming and recording. He walked out onto the set.

There she was, camera on her and shooting the part just as he imagined, the perfect way to convey what his song was trying to get at. He turned to walk over to the recording studio, ready to get the vocals done. When it was time for his break, Levi quietly walked out towards the refreshment table, ready for his lunchtime tea. Before he could reach the food, he suddenly felt hot liquid soaking up his shirt and he jumped at the sudden heat, quickly unbuttoning his shirt to keep it from literally burning his skin.

“Oh I’m so so so so so sorry, I didn’t see you there! Oh no!” Levi felt a frantic pair of hands trying to dab the coffee from his bare abdomen with napkins. Once the coffee was all dried, he sighed in relief. Before he could look up to see who the culprit was, he felt two fingers playfully pinch at the little bit of fat around his stomach and heard the words, “Awwww, so cute!”

Levi’s eyes widened and he immediately pushed the hand away and covered up his stomach—okay he had been slacking off on the ab workouts recently, but he didn’t need to be outed like that. He looked up, ready to scowl at the complete moron who just assaulted him with hot coffee and made fun of the tiny, loose area of fat he had neglected, and met the eyes of the person he least expected.

“Hanji Zoe?”

“That’s me! Sorry about that, Levi is it?”

Levi was completely dumbfounded—the elegant, serious, world famous model, Hanji Zoe, was a complete—

“Hanji!” A stressed-looking man called out and ran towards them. “Mr. Ackerman, I’m so sorry, can I get you anything? I’m so sorry!” Still dumbfounded, Levi wordlessly shook his head. The man turned towards Hanji. “Hanji I swear to God I turned around for 2 seconds and you already managed to do this??”

“Moblit, dont worry, Levi said he’s fine! No worries! And nice to meet you, Levi!” she exclaimed, as if this happened all the time.

“Did this happen all the time??” Levi thought. “Seems she even has a goddamn babysitter, Erwin, what were you thinking? We sure as hell are not about to get along...”

She waved and smiled happily at him as Moblit steered her back to the dressing rooms.

——

Most of the week passed and Hanji irritated every single nerve Levi had in his body. She was completely smooth and professional whenever the camera was rolling, but every single second that camera was on standby, she was tripping over equipment, spilling her drinks, getting rips in her outfits, and worst of all, humming his songs off-tune. Levi thought his brain would blow a fuse—but at least the week was almost over. He would kill Erwin--he was on leave for the whole week Hanji would be here. Levi was absolutely sure that he did this on purpose to play a prank on him, trying to lift his spirits or something stupid like that.

Well his spirits did not need lifting, but apparently he needed to be lifting—weights that is. If Hanji teasingly squeezed at his godforsaken baby fat once more, he’d lose it.

—-

“Just two days more,” Levi thought. Then he could give Erwin a piece of his mind. He walked down the hallway during their long break before their evening shooting. Suddenly, he heard a piano playing, and a really pretty voice behind it—it was quite muffled, though. As if the person was trying to actively hide the sound of their music. He quietly stepped towards the practice room, curious to see who it was. He felt himself humming along, which was rare for him to do. The music wrapped around him like a blanket—he felt warm... at peace. The sound stopped, and then began playing one of his old songs. One he really loved, but it wasn’t very popular—it was always the creations you didn’t really care about that would get hits, but the ones you did love wouldn’t get the attention it deserved. He pushed the door open a bit, and peeked in. His jaw dropped.

A tangled mess of brown hair, pulled out from the neat up-do, wearing an oversized green t-shirt: Hanji Zoe sat at the piano singing and playing the song that meant the most to him. He stared, mesmerized—she looked beautiful this way, to him at least. Raw, no make-up, no gimmicks--she was so pretty, he thought. He took a few steps forward and joined her singing the harmony, their voice types strangely compatible, blending together in a way that made your ears buzz when it hit the correct frequency. She wasn’t even startled as he walked into the room to join her--it was as if she knew he’d join her. He sat next to her continuing to sing, and started playing the piano with her. She eyed him and smiled as she sang until they reached the end.

Levi paused, very much shocked at the whole ordeal. “Um, when did you learn how to sing? Why were you humming everything off tune all week—“

“Hm, because I don’t want anyone to know!”

“Why wouldn’t you want anyone to know?? Your voice is ridiculous...”

“Oh,” she blushed, “Well, this is the one thing I have, for me? My life is always plastered on billboards and magazines and TV interviews, I just wanted one thing for myself, yknow?”

Levi hesitated—he understood, but he wanted nothing more than to make more music with her.

“But,” she lifted her hand towards his face, Levi shutting his eyes in preparation for her to squeeze his goddamn cheek for the thousandth time this week, but was instead met with her fingers combing his hair over and back behind his ear. “I wouldn’t mind sharing this little secret of mine with you, once in awhile.”

She smiled brightly at him. “Oh and you look cuter when you push your bangs out of the way, it’s nice to see your face more clearly.”

She pulled a napkin out of her pocket, and picked up a pen. She wrote her personal phone number down, folded the napkin, and slid it into the chest pocket of his button-up, right over his heart.

“When we’re done shooting this video, call me sometime. I’d love to sing with you again, alright?” She stood up and scurried away, of course knocking down her empty cup of coffee on the bench beside her on the way out.

Levi stared at the doorway, and put his hand over his pocket—he felt himself...smiling?

“Goddammit, Erwin. I’m gonna punch you straight into the next life for playing matchmaker.”

He impatiently pulled out his phone and saved Hanji’s number under the name “Four-Eyes”.

#levihan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #hanji zoe #erwin smith #moblit #levihan fanfiction #levihan fanfic #snk #aot #ask #anon

216 notes · View notes

bukojuiice · 3 years

Text

rose-colored boy

ೃ pairing: (eren jaeger x fem! reader)

ೃ tags: college/modern au, fluff, humor, love at first sight cliché, mikasa is your cute little sister, armin, sasha, jean, and connie are your besties, and eren is a himbo who works hard and has terrible friends.

ೃ warnings: strong language and mild suggestive content

ೃ part 1/??? of my (eren x reader) college au!

ೃ word count: 3000 words

ೃ my nav → my mha writing masterlist

ೃ This is my very first snk x reader fic! so i hope you bear with some errors! qwq

i’ve been following the anime ever since it was released in 2013, and this is the first time i’m going to be writing for it. this month’s manga chapter really took me out so why not channel my sadness thru writing an fluff! eren fic? 🤧 i hope you enjoy either way!

ೃ please do reblog if you enjoyed!! (feel free to add tags too because i love reading them and my heart swells with happiness when people love my work!)

ೃ in which (Y/N) (L/N), 20, still in school, and regretfully-unregretfully-her little girl scout sister's assistant, meets eren jaeger in an embarrassing too innocent door-to-door cookie sale whilst a humiliating party was going on.

cookies, suspicious maybe-maybe-not pot brownies, meddling little sisters and friends, “oh my god they were roommates” vine on replay 24/7, homework, tears, and fairy lights bring them together.

“I’m going to enter now.”

“Ahhh yes, please!”

“Shut up, please.” Eren muttered to himself as he tossed and turned around in his bed, but still couldn’t get to sleep. “When will they ever stop doing this?” Why did Eren’s next-door roommate and his girlfriend have to do this five times a day? They had a lot of stamina for 21-year-olds who didn’t have anything better to do.

Eren’s thoughts eventually brought him to his parents.

His parents- did they even exist?

For pretty much 14 years of Eren’s life, they had been out of town or out of the country. His older brother, Zeke, blonde, bespectacled, tall, and sometimes too far up his own ass older brother who Eren is able to confide in from time to time, recently got a girlfriend whom he’s hopelessly in love with (they’re even thinking about getting married which isn’t really a problem since the girl is genuinely nice to his older brother so Eren is good with her.), so… things in the family had been a bit rough and busy to say the least.

Communication with his parents wasn’t always the best.

Eren would study late at night back when he was seven, because no one bothered to help him with homework. Along with the fact that he wasn’t the brightest kid in class, and he knew that very well, but he had ambition and he was determined to make it big in the world. He focused more on sports, particularly Soccer in middle school and high school, and tried to balance that with his studies. After being granted a Sports Scholarship from Shigashina University, Eren decided to rent and share a flat, living with his batchmates who he met at a mixer party (before Uni started as this whole meet and get to know each other kind of thing) and whom he was so quick to call his ‘friends’, just so that he could get out of the hellhole that was his own house.

But things turned out much worse than expected.

Eren thought that the ‘College Life’ was to focus more on pursuing your future career and make a name for yourself but… it was the other way around.

He thought that after Freshmen year, everyone would take things seriously. Sure, have some drinks, get wasted after finals, or have house parties from time to time. But he was unfortunately, dragged into the wrong crowd. After attending around 5 parties in the first few months of being generalized as one of the infamous and pompous freshman archetypes present in every university, he called it a year and spent the rest of his nights doing homework, projects, playing video games, staying at the school soccer field until 10PM while his roommates were probably smoking crack and not caring about the number of units they needed to take for each of their goddamn subjects.

He was ~living the life~ and now that he regrets most of the decisions he made in freshman year, the only option that he has left was to wait until his third year and move to a different apartment.

Now, here he was, Sophomore year, nearing the end of the semester, and very much eager to get the hell out of here and also study for his upcoming finals on Constitutional Law II, as his professor, Mr. Erwin Smith, was going to throw hands if one of his students score below average on the exam.

“EREN MICK JAEGER! BROOOO!” Eren winces when he hears the shrieky and annoying voice of his flatmate Thomas Wagner, calling out to him. “Wanna go and party with us?” Eren smiles halfheartedly, shaking his head, “Ah, no thanks. I have a game tomorrow and finals coming up on Thursday.” Thomas smirked and wrapped his arm around Eren, “Oh fuck that, live the college life ya spoon.”

“No, really I have to study.”

Thomas frowned and groaned, “Oh god, you’re such a killjoy. Fine, if that’s what you want. Don’t blame us if we tell you to buy some beer down the block.”

Eren cracked an obviously fake laugh and pushed Thomas away from him, “You’re an ass. That only happened once and that was when we first met. Don’t you even dare try to ask me to buy you shit again.”

“Woah. Woah. Woaaaaaah. That was a joke Eren. Loosen up will you?” Thomas raises an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the brunette’s sudden aggressiveness. He hums Moves like Jaeger by Maroon 5 as a way to spite Eren whilst passing by him down the staircase.

The brunette shook his head, tying his hair into a bun carelessly and sprinting into his room without uttering another word.

Eren just wanted to study. He really did.

Instead, his roommates, all of them, mind you, were all partying in the lounge and the music was too loud and Eren was too annoyed.

They did manage to bring him out and make him stay in the kitchen where he mindlessly glared at anyone who came in. He sighed and tapped his pen restlessly amongst the insane amount of books on the table.

There was a knock.

His roommate, Floch, came in the kitchen with his girlfriend who Eren couldn’t even name with all the women he has brought into the apartment. She was hanging onto his arm and giggling. Floch’s eyes were red and his speech very slow and lazy. "Eren!" he said with a sly grin.

Eren raised an eyebrow, shooting him an irritated look. "What now Floch? Are you here to tell me to take a shot again?" The ginger-haired’s girlfriend giggled once again and kissed Floch’s cheek. Floch laughed and swatted her away, though he missed by a long shot. "Someone's at the door," a thumb pointing to the den. "wouldchumind ge'in it?" another giggle. The girl nodded sloshily. "Yesss! Erenieee get 'em door, please. Be a dearrrrr."

Eren frowned and stared at them menacingly, earning no reaction from the two as they were mad drunk. "You were just in the den," Floch’s eyes widened. "My lovey wovey-we was in the den?" His girlfriend’s mouth went into an O. "Di'nt notice tha'!"

Eren sighed and stood up. He miraculously got through the throng of bodies and to the front door. "Yes?" he called out exasperated, not knowing who was outside.

"Do you want cookies?"

Eren turned and looked to see a little raven-haired girl, a girl scout no less, a blonde-haired boy pulling on a trolley who looked significantly shorter than him, wearing rimmed glasses, and an overall appearance whom his “friends” would immediately label as a nerd they had to be a few feet away from if they saw him and lastly, a girl who looked very tired and very done with life.

Beautiful (h/c)-colored hair, her eyes looked like the starry night sky, twinkling as he catches her gaze and a smile that looked forced, but warm all the same.

A girl who was just absolutely fucking gorgeous.

Eren was captivated. His heart was beating like crazy and he could feel his ears turn red. He would make a fool of himself if he looked red as a tomato right now.

"Um," The girl peeked inside and grimaced, squeezing the hand that was her little sister's shoulder and catching Eren’s gaze. "Mikasa, I don't think these kinds of guys would want cookies."

“Unless they're pot cookies,” Eren almost said. Mikasa pouted and widened her eyes at Eren.

The older girl crouched down and frantically covered her little sister’s eyes. "Nopenopenope, Mi, don't pull that on him."

"But (Y/N)!"

(Y/N).

Her name was (Y/N).

Eren smiled sincerely (for the first time today) and leaned back inside to the drawer by the door to grab the extra cash he and his roommates put there for emergency pizza and stuff. "You know what? You're absolutely brilliant at selling cookies. I'll take one."

Mikasa smiled back at him cheekily and tugged her older sister’s hand. "See, (Y/N)?! He wants some! Go get 'em!”

The raven-haired girl then turned to the blonde teen, practically jumping up and down. “Armin look! We sold another one!"

“We did!” The boy who was apparently named Armin, clapped his hands together, then gave the little girl a high five. “You’re a natural at this Mikasa!”

(Y/N) looked at Eren, then Mikasa, and sighed. She grabbed a bag from the trolley Armin was dragging around and pulled out a box of cookies. Eren grabbed them slowly from her, their hands almost touching as he gave (Y/N) a small smile. The (h/c) girl blushed lightly, though not visible enough for the brunette to notice.

"Hope to see you again!" Eren called out when the siblings said their thank you's and bid farewell.

And, this time, even for the slightest moment, Eren’s serotonin levels were going straight through the roof. His heart was still beating loudly, almost in sync with the trash music his roommates were blaring on the speakers. and for a moment, even just for a moment.

He felt genuine happiness that he hasn’t felt in a very long time.

The three of you continue to walk animatedly, now that the coast was clear and the guy from earlier wasn’t within earshot, your blonde friend just had to break the silence.

Armin smiles, pushing his glasses up to the crook of his nose. “(Y/N), you did see how he looked at you right?” The blonde chuckles softly, catching his best friend off guard.

You blinked. “Him?” You try to stop yourself from smiling, blushing profusely. “Geez Armin, I don’t even know his name yet.”

“I’ll bet you 100 bucks that he goes to our Uni.”

“Even if he does, it’s not like we’ll talk to him or anything. Judging from the place he lives in and the people he was hanging out with, we’re in two completely different worlds.” You shook your head in denial, holding Mikasa’s hand, your interlocked arms swinging playfully. Armin gives you a knowing look in response.

Mikasa continued to wave back at the boy whom they had just sold cookies too. (Y/N) looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Wasn’t he nice (Y/N)?” Mikasa asks her older sister. (Y/N) returned her sister a small smile, “He was.”

"I hope we see him again!"

"I'm sure we will."

The day of Eren’s dreaded finals finally arrive.

He has prepared tirelessly for this. Hours upon hours of hard work. But, before he finally gets his well-deserved sleep, he has a few more hours to cram and absorb more knowledge for his exams.

So, what better way to do so than head straight to the library as soon as it opens at 6 AM?

This time, no one was going to bother him. No annoying roommates and no distractions.

Eren heads over to a table near the coffee and snack machines. He puts down his bag on a seat next to him, and begins to study once again. Looking through the course materials and the lessons that he still didn’t quite understand. Eren was so absorbed with studying and relying on his gut feeling that no other student in this university would think of going to the library at 6 AM on the day of finals… then he’s wrong. Very wrong.

“Sasha, should you even be eating mashed potato this early in the morning?” Armin asks the brunette worriedly, a huge tone of concern in his voice.

“Armin! Don’t chu worry! I ate heavy breakfast! Bacon, Eggs, and Toast! Did you not see me in the kitchen!?” She reassures her blonde friend, continuing to scoop up the mashed potato on a reusable cup.

“Liar.” Connie hissed, narrowing his eyes. “I was awake since 4 AM. Not once did I see you sneak into the kitchen until (Y/N) woke you up.”

“Atatata. Can we… stop with the negative vibes for a second?” Jean tries to become the mediator by holding his hands up against his two friends who were about to start an argument. “It’s finals week. We have to keep a clear mind, body and soul-“

“Jean, you know that’s BS.” You yawn widely, still practically half-asleep.

“Oh, come on! Can’t you just let me be positive just this once!? If we fail this exam I’m going to blame you!“

The five of you continue to talk mindlessly on the way to the library. Connie pushes the glass door open, very much excited to have this huge library all to yourselves.

Until…

There was someone already there.

Your eyes immediately come into contact with Eren’s. His radiant jade eyes staring into yours, mouth practically agape, his hands holding on to wooden chopsticks as the hot air of instant ramen breezes through his face.

“Oh?” Connie blinks. “Guess we aren’t the first ones here then.” He whistles.

“(Y/N)!” Armin nudges you in the arm in an attempt to tease you. “Guess your wish came true huh? We did see him again! By himself too!”

“W-what am I supposed to do exactly?” You turn to Armin, speaking in a hushed whisper.

“Say thank you to him! Offer him to go on a boba date or something!”

“You got the Sasha seal of approval (Y/N)! He’s hot!” Sasha motions you a thumbs up and you can’t help but feel yourself already wanting to die of embarrassment.

The four of them slightly push you towards his table. With your friends cornering you like this, there was no way of escaping this.

All you had to do was talk to him and properly thank him for buying cookies from your little sister.

That was it.

No need for any extra ad-libs or poor and bad attempts of flirtation.

Just thank him (Y/N).

You can do this.

You breathe a hefty sigh then approach his table with confidence. The brunette continues to look up at you whilst turning the page of his reviewer that he wasn’t even looking at.

“Hi again! I just wanted to thank you properly for helping my sister and I, out the other day. Mikasa really appreciated the gesture you did for her, and she couldn’t stop talking about you to our parents since we saw you. You see, none of the other girl scouts want to be paired up with my sister because they think she’s an emotionless and monotonous freak. They’re really mean to her but she really wants to continue being a girl scout so my friend and I accompany her whenever she has to sell cookies!”

“It’s N-no problem!” Eren quickly replies, running a hand through his hair. “Why would they say such horrible things to your sister like that? Judging from the way she acted in front of me, she was quite the opposite. In a positive way of course! Those kids are just assholes who are intimidated because another girl their age is seemingly better than them.”

You giggle in response. “Thank you. I’ll tell Mikasa that you said that!”

There was short silence for a few seconds until you realized that you forgot to say something.

“Ah! I’m (Y/N) (L/N) by the way!”

“Eren.” He smiles, reaching his hand out to you for you to shake. You grip his strong and calloused hand firmly, and Eren could feel his ears turning red again while you were about to blush as red as a tomato.

You hear your friends snickering in the background and you took this as a sign to go back to your table. “I guess, I’ll see you around campus?” You ask, tilting your head. For, you actually really wanted to see him again after this.

“Yea! I’ll be seeing you!” He grins widely, watching you leave where he was seated. His smile then envelops into a frown as soon as you went away then he goes back to studying.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” Connie whispers loudly, calling you over by waving his hand. Why was this dunce being so painfully obvious? “Ask him if he’s looking for an apartment or if he wants to live with us!”

“Already!?” You ask in disbelief, a bit shocked by what Connie had just said. He scoots to the left, as you take a seat between him and Sasha. “Guys, you’ve known him for like… 3 minutes. Only Armin and I actually interacted with him before this.”

“He has to pass the vibe check first.” Jean shrugs, sipping on an iced expresso. “But, yeah, he does seem alright from a few feet away.”

“Come on (Y/N)! Ask him!” Sasha nods approvingly. “It’s weird that he’s studying alone like this while we’re in another table trying to remain unaware that he looks lonely as hell.”

“UMmMM… maybe he wants to study alone because that’s the only way he can focus? That’s a thing that normal people do, Sasha.” You remark sarcastically, trying to think up of more reasons to not approach him again.

Armin clears his throat, “Look, (Y/N), it won’t hurt to try right? Besides, don’t you feel a tiny bit sorry for him? He does seem lonely and you do have a crush on him so… more ways to interact with him right?”

Your shoulders slump and you breathe a defeated sigh. “Okay okay fine.” You make your way to Eren’s table again but before you do, you turn to your friends. “By the way, I don’t really have a crush on him just yet. I just find him cute okay?”

“Yeah yeah.” They say in unison as you continue to walk back to the brunette’s table.

“Hi again Eren!” You wave and try your best not to fumble or look painfully obvious that you were infatuated by him. He looks up and you try your best not to smile like a weirdo.

“Hm?” He hums.

“Would you like to come over to our table and study with us?”

To be continued.

#shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x y/n #eren x you #snk #aot

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high-functioning-lokipath · 3 years

Text

Strange Times - Dr. Steven Strange x Reader - Words: 2,225

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Sorry if Dr. Strange is a bit OOC because I'm not SUPER experienced with his character but I wanted to give him a shot! Hope you like my other fandom references 😜 Let me know if you pick up on them!

"Y/N," Hawkeye said, walking up to you. "You've got a mission." Your eyebrows raised dramatically as you lifted your gaze from the bowl of cereal you were currently consuming.

"Me?" You asked mid-chew. Clint rolled his eyes at your manners, or lack thereof, but nodded.

"You're ready," He assured you. Him, along with the other Avengers, had been training you now for the past few months. While your control over your power had greatly improved, you still weren't completely confident in yourself. "All it involves is catching a guy who'd been working in Research and Development on one of Stark's projects. He apparently decided he could get more money if he stole it and sold it to the other side so we need to catch him before the deal goes through. He should be landing in Madrid now. The deal is set for tomorrow morning. You have until then."

"Okay," You said slowly. "I guess I'll get ready then?"

"Yep!" He chirped, grinning brightly. You grumbled about the lack of prep time and stalked away trying to hide your nerves. You got dressed and left in record time. The small jet you'd been assigned for your mission had the location pre-entered, thanks again to Hawkeye, so you reviewed the file during the flight.

"Great!" You groaned, going off on a rant to yourself as you kept reading. "He's stolen an unstable prototype of a personal time travel device! How was this guy not checked out before? Matt Smith doesn't sound suspicious at all!" The computer on the jet beeped at you and you saw that you were approaching the landing site. Quickly putting the file away, you prepared for the inevitable confrontation. Once you landed you carefully made your way to the small hotel Smith was supposedly staying in for the night. Your first obstacle, of course, was persuading the clerk to let you look at the guest list. Once you did, however, you quickly snuck up to his room on the 3rd floor and went in.

"Well well well," You heard someone say once the door closed behind you. You whipped around and saw a shadowy figure in the corner. "I mustn't have made a very strong impression if the Avengers sent me fresh meat. Poor girl. You have no idea what you're up against do you?" He flicked a light on and you saw the prototype in his hand.

"You're right. I don't. But neither do you," You retorted. Concentrating on the barriers of the room, you lifted the gravity in it while keeping yourself grounded. "You have no idea what I'm capable of," You smirked. "So why don't we make this easier on the both of us and you hand it over now?"

"Well, you make a good argument. But how about no?" He smirked back. You felt a click around your wrists and were suddenly pulled back against the wall. "I have heard of you, my dear," He sneered. "So I was well prepared for any of you." As he revealed the small propulsion device he was wearing, he started gliding towards you, no longer affected by the lack of gravity in the room. "I don't really want to hurt you," he said. "I just want you to watch as everything you've ever known is destroyed!" As he continued monologuing, you noticed orange sparks appearing behind him. At first you thought he was activating the device. But moments later, the sparks turned into a circular portal and a tall man with a red cape stepped through.

"Hand over the proto-whoa!" He yelled as he was inadvertently affected by your gravity manipulation when he entered the room. His cape though seemed to react and started flapping, pushing him back towards the ground. "As I was saying," He said, clearing his throat and trying to regain his dignity. "Hand it over."

"Why should I, Strange? Of what use is it to you?"

"Doctor Strange!" You thought. "That's who he is!" You'd heard of him before but had never met or seen him. While you did wonder why he was there, you were awfully glad for the help.

"I was bored and needed some entertainment," He shrugged. "Now if you don't mind, I'll be taking that now." Strange reached out to grab the device out of the man's hand but you noticed Smith was going to try to fly away. You quickly adjusted the gravity again, keeping everyone on the ground.

"Hey!" Smith yelled. "That's not nice!" You rolled your eyes and Strange easily snatched the device from him. Smith struggled to reach for it but Strange smirked.

"Be a dear?" He said to, apparently, his cape. The cape flew off his back and curled it's one corner around the device. It then hovered up near the ceiling, out of reach.

"So that's why Stark said his costume was creepy," You thought, chuckling lightly. Strange glanced at you oddly but didn't address it.

"Could you-" He trailed off, motioning slightly around him.

"Oh! Sure!" You replied quickly, letting the gravity return to normal. Smith immediately tried to get away but Strange pulled out an odd glowy rope and whipped it around him effectively restraining him for the moment.

"Not so fast," He said to the man. Turning to you he motioned for you to come closer. He made short work of the cuffs on your wrists before transferring them to Smith' own hands. "Ok, off you go," He said, opening a portal in front of the man. He unceremoniously shoved him through and closed it behind him. "He'll be taken care of," Strange said to you, motioning for the cape to return to him. He then handed the prototype back to you.

"Thanks," You mumbled, feeling quite silly that you couldn't handle the mission on your own. "Why did you come here anyways? Did Stark or one of the others send you?"

"No, I came on my own. You see, I keep a watch list of individuals and beings from all realms that may be a threat to this world. When Mr. Matt Smith there stole that device, he jumped to the top."

"Oh," You said. "Well, I suppose I'd better get back. I'll probably need to debrief and should probably train a bit more so I can handle myself better next time."

"You did fairly well for someone without much experience although you certainly need more training." You rolled your eyes at his statement. Having heard of his reputation for being snarky, however, you weren't all that fazed. "Perhaps you would like to come to the Sanctum with me? I'm quite sure we have a book that could help you." Now that surprised you. You didn't expect him to be nice at all. Maybe he's not as bad as Loki said he was.

"So, is the Sanctum a fancy library and you're the fancy librarian?" You joked. He laughed and shook his head.

"The Sanctum is much more than that and Wong is the fancy librarian!" He grinned. He opened a portal in front of you that, apparently, led to the Sanctum. Before stepping through it, though, you remembered your own transportation.

"Oh! Actually I have a jet I came in. Can we take that back? I just know I'll be read the riot act if I leave it behind," You said.

"That would be fine," He replied. "Besides, it will give us more time to get to know each other better." A light blush rose to your cheeks as you followed the Doctor out.

"Am I crazy or is he flirting with me?" You thought. "Crazy, definitely crazy." As you kept walking, your internal monologue also continued. "He is quite handsome though," you mused. "Kinda looks like that guy from the tv show BFF/N watches."

"Nice cape," You commented, trying to make conversation. The cape seemed to bristle at your comment and he smoothed it softly at his side.

"It's a cloak, not a cape. And it's the Cloak of Levitation, an ancient relic."

"Oh," You said quietly. "Sorry."

"Quite alright. It's easily confused to the untrained eye." He paused for a moment before adding, "And thank you." You smiled slightly and continued walking in silence.

"So what's your name?" He asked, once you got in the jet.

"My name-name? Or my made-up name?"

"Both," He replied, entering the Sanctum's address into the computer.

"Well, my name is Y/F/N, but I go by Andromeda Nova, or Nova for short."

"Not bad," He said, sitting down in one of the chairs. "So tell me about yourself, Nova." He'd taken off his cape before he sat and now it was hovering near him.

"Alright," You said nervously. You were slightly intimidated by the more experienced superhero who suddenly seemed to be interrogating you but you went ahead with telling him your story of how you got your powers.

"So you went to the Avengers for help?"

"Yes. I had no idea how to control it and, well, everyone that I had been friends with before were afraid of me except for BFF/N." You giggled slightly and smirked. "I guess you could say you met me at a very strange time in my life." He laughed heartily at your pun and you relaxed a bit. As you continued telling him about your training with the Avengers, you decided to take off your own cape and tossed it over a nearby chair. Eventually, however, you got tired of just hearing your own voice since he kept asking you questions rather than speak himself. "Do you mind if I put on some music while we talk?"

"Oh not at all!" He replied excitedly. You grabbed the tablet that controlled the sound system and scrolled through the library.

"Any preferences, Strange?"

"Whatever you want." You nodded and scrolled a bit more before finally hitting shuffle on one of your favorite playlists. "And, you can call me Stephen if you want." Seconds after the song started, he smirked.

"Waka Waka, Shakera, 2010." Your jaw dropped, eyebrows raising comically. "Surprised?" You nodded, speechless. "Let's try another, shall we? Computer, next song." The next song started and now it was your turn to grin. Just before he opened his mouth, you beat him to it.

"Ride, Twenty One Pilots, 2015. Computer, next song." He raised one eyebrow, impressed, before closing his eyes to concentrate on the next song.

"Just The Way You Are, Bruno Mars, 2010," You said at the same time. He smiled widely and let the song continue for the moment. Seeing movement out of the corner of your eye, you got up to look, almost doubling over in a fit of giggles.

"Should we be concerned?" You asked the doctor, who seemed just as shocked as you when he walked over to see what you were looking at. Apparently Cloak had gotten the dancing bug and decided your cape would make an excellent partner.

"I have no idea," He replied, biting back a laugh. "It's been a while since he's been with another cape, so," He trailed off, both of you laughing once again. "Wait, is yours a cape or a cloak?"

"Whatever it is, he likes it!" You exclaimed, watching the odd waltz continue. Once your laughter calmed, you noticed he was staring at you. You cleared your throat and looked at him questioningly. "That, um, that's a lovely dress. A, uh, very nice color," He said quickly, stumbling over his words.

"Uh-huh, sure," You said, sarcastically.

"Really! It is!" He cried, embarrassed that you caught him staring.

"Yeah, well, my BFF keeps saying it's the same color as Sherlock's purple shirt of-woah!" You suddenly were thrown off balance as Cloak flew over and shoved you toward Stephen, who, of course, caught you before you fell.

"I'm so sorry," He quickly said. "Apparently he needs a reminder that, while he is the Cloak of Levitation, he's not my wingman." He said the last part in almost a hiss, directed at the offending object. Cloak shrugged and, if it had eyes, you were sure it would have rolled them.

"It's quite alright," You assured him. Realizing you were still in his arms you blushed brightly. "Maybe I should-"

"The music's still playing," He interrupted.

"And?"

"May I have this dance?" He smirked.

"I suppose," You sighed. "But only because I think you'll be a better partner than capey over there." Cloak, who was still nearby, reached out to whack you for your comment. Strange quickly whipped open a portal instead in front of the fabric and you heard a yell from the other side before Cloak quickly retreated and he closed it.

"Who was that?" You asked.

"Cloak may or may not have just accidentally slapped Wong's backside." Cloak crossed what you supposed was his arms and had the audacity to look upset. You shook your head and chuckled lightly.

"I have a strange feeling we'll get along just fine," You smiled, holding your hands out to him for your dance. He smiled back and took your hands, swaying gently to the music.

"Only time will tell."

In An Unidentified Location Only One Portal Away

Matt takes a look around to make sure no one is watching him. "Well, it would seem my work here is done," He said, grinning to himself. "Toodle-oo!"

Marvel (all characters) Taglist

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@whatafuckingdumbass

@ladylulu143

@lokislittlesigyn

@gaitwae

#marvel #avengers #dr. strange x reader #dr. strange imagine #dr. strange #strange x reader #doctor strange #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #dr stephen strange #dr stephen Strange x reader

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not-close-to-straight · 2 years

Note

HI HELLO IVE JUST CAUGHTEN UP

quick confession firrst: i read ch 3&4 backwards bc i forgot i hadnt read ch 3 before i read ch 4. im out of my adhd meds and its taking a toll lmao

BACK TO THE HOLLERIN

that shoot out scene was fucking BRILLIANT. i just finished a romance novel that had an "action scene" in it that was.... disappointing. but then to turn around and see wade go absolutely feral on those boys??? oh man!! my favorite parts probably had to be shooting the dude through the bar (gross real life image GREAT movie image), the bit where theyre gonna send him down the river and he wakes up and kills the reat of em, and surprisingly the part where he kills weasel too. i thought that would make me sad bc ive always loved their relationships in other fics but here... it just felt right. like the image of an absolutely battered wade limping out of st margarets and climbing onto arthur, PILES of bodies behind him with no survivors?? incredible

and PYM my lovely cranky hank. i love cranky hank, thank you for giving him to me, i will never have enough. i can't wait to see what he has to say about wade coming to his doorstep in ch 5 lmao

okay okay onto my SECOND favorite part which is PETER my beloved. i love this pete. i mean... learning to become an escape artist because of his experiences?? sitting there and cataloguing the alphas with nothing more than a look???? and fucking reeling Francis IN and then casting him aside was some MASTER manipulation and i can't believe francis fucking fell for it, what a bitch 😂 also i loved pete covering up his tell!! thats so so clever, i love little details like that! oh and the way you didnt detail petes escape? you just cut to it through francis' pov kinda??? oh that was some good shit. ive said it before and i'll say it again: this verse, you've really honed in on this movie/camera aspect of writing and i LOVE it. i can physically SEE the jump shot from francis to where pete was tied, then the racing shot from francis howling to pete running away and then the zooming shot to the little town of hex on the horizon. its.so.good.

okay i think i'm done now 😂 i loved these two chapters (if you couldnt tell) and im falling in love with these two boys even though they arent spending any real time together which is a wild approach to a romance story but one im LOVING. i cant wait for chapter 5!! (thankfully i wont be able to read it out of order this time 😅)

THANK YOU!

I have definitely been disappointed by "Action Scenes" in romance movies and fics because alot of times it seems like the two tropes can't co exist without one being seen as "unnecessary" (usually the romance, let's be honest) and I am really trying to avoid that in this fic. Like Peter and Wade are both having an adventure that will eventually lead to them coming back together but I'm also trying to layer in that romance so when they finally see each other again it just clicks into place vs the typical movie scene where all the sudden one minute the two main characters are apparently into each other for no other reason than they happened to be sharing the same space.

So I wanted Wade's shoot out scene to be SO INTENSE but then in the middle of it, he's still "tell me where my Omega is" and even when he's half dead, he's still thinking about Pete. Okay and I'm so glad everyone has loved the shotgun through the bar thing. That's one of my favorite tropes in action movies, shooting someone through the wall, in fact my favorite one is in Mr. and Mrs. Smith where Angelina Jolie's character shoots through the wall and damn near kills Brad Pitt and then goes "still alive, baby?" idk why it's so damn funny but it always has me in stitches every time.

I almost didn't kill Weasel cos honestly the guy is a great character. Wholly chaotic and barely keeping it together but GREAT and usually in my fics he's a good guy. But for this one yeah, I wanted that "scorched earth" feel to Wade leaving St. Margaret's-- bodies and blood and gunpowder and the lone gunman riding away into the hills.

I know that this version of Peter is pretty wildly OOC but on the other hand... I feel like maybe he isn't. Everything I attribute to Peter in this AU- being able to size up a situation in a matter of minutes, always having an escape plan, stealthy skills that would help in a scary moment, being able to pretty much figure out how dangerous some one is or how easy they'll be to talk down-- I feel like Spidey!Peter has all the same skills. He might have superpowers but you still don't survive in NYC against honestly wackadoodle super villains without being super smart and being able to read people well and read them quickly. In this AU he got and uses those skills as a whore, but I feel like it's not that far off from how he has to exist IRL.

And YES I purposefully went with the cut scene to Peter's escape partly for the "movie" feel and partly because we'd just come off both a scene where we SAW Peter putting together the details of his escape (loosened knots, money, etc) and then a detail heavy scene with Wade so we didn't need to be bogged down in more.

Plus that parallel of Wade barely alive riding away and Peter literally riding for his life, both of them off into the darkness searching for each other but not quite finding each other... it's so good.

Thanks for this comment! I love when people see all the little details I put into the chapters!

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noyaism · 3 years

Text

A Night Off

Being the Erwin simp I am, he had to be my first AoT fic. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

Pairing: Erwin SmithxFem!Reader

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: choking, creampie, super soft ending, little bit of angst at the beginning (tw: death), praising, little bit of size kink (lmk if I missed any warnings !!)

Song Inspo: A Night Off - Drake

Life within the walls was as mundane as life could get. It might've been peaceful, yes. Hell, it was the only life you could be having, but still, you yearned to know more of the world you lived in, as you felt as if there had to be more. The walls and the titans beyond it couldn't be all there was. That just seemed so limited to you, in a world that just had to be vast. Maybe this was simply your thinking because you were a child. Of course the world had to be bigger than what you knew, it's not like you knew much of it anyway. Or maybe there really was more base to what you thought, maybe your fantasies were a reality.

Because you were as fascinated with the world as you were, history was your favorite subject growing up. You sat up a little straighter, clutched your pencil a little harder, listened just a bit more intently whenever the lesson started. A decent amount of the things you were taught made sense to you. However, something about the prospect of the walls being all that was left of humanity, that there was simply nothing but thousands, maybe even millions of titans outside just waiting to devour you and nothing else, just didn't sit right. It seemed so oddly far fetched, and you couldn't put your finger on why it felt that way. Apparently you weren't the only one who was feeling unsettled by this.

A small boy raised his hand, you recognized him as the teacher's kid; Erwin Smith. There was a look of pure curiosity in his eyes as he questioned his father, you could tell he was having the same feelings you were.

“If we lost all records of what the outside world was like, how do we know we’re the only ones left?”

It was odd for you, hearing someone else have the same question you did, something that came to plague your young mind. You wondered what the boy might've been thinking about what was outside.

The teacher, his father, dismissed the question, going on about the lesson. Erwin looked defeated as he sat back down, continuing to take his notes as if nothing happened. His eyes told a different story, though. There was a lot going on in his mind, and at your lunch break you decided to pick his brain.

“So what do you think is outside?” You asked the boy as you went to sit next to him in the schoolyard. Your backs were to the wall, and you both carefully ate your sandwiches as you surveyed all of the other children running about freely. The two of you weren't like them, that was plain enough to see.

“I’m not sure really, but the story my father told just doesn't entirely make sense. Almost as if we’re being led to believe something that isn't true at all. Do you get what I mean?” You nodded your head at the boy’s question, letting out a small sigh.

“My parents have told me that same thing, and it just doesn't really sit right with me. But then again it's what everyone knows, right? So maybe we’re crazy or something.” Erwin laughed lightly at your words, nodding along.

“Yeah, maybe we are. At least I know someone as crazy as me now.”

And from that moment on, you and Erwin became the best of friends. The next day Erwin told you he had something important to tell you during lunch. The two of you sat in the same place you had the day prior, and he divulged to you everything his father had told him. You sat in utter amazement, slowly chewing on your food as the theory was explained.

“So the history that we know is all a lie? The king just wanted to make people easier to control?” Erwin nodded his head intently, a small smile on his face.

“Yeah, so he changed the memory of all his subjects, and altered any historical records to follow suit. That's why we don't know anything about the world beyond the walls, the knowledge has been stolen from us, and it's been so long since then that it's doubtful anyone truly remembers.”

This all made an insurmountable amount of sense to you, and when Erwin decided he wanted to tell your fellow classmates, you agreed to help him spread the information around. That night when you told your family they simply laughed, thinking it was some crazy theory you and Erwin had made up. They thought it was cute and completely dismissed it, but advised against telling too many people about it, just in case it might have caused you any sort of trouble. You thought they were crazy for not believing, but realized you couldn't force them to. You also didn't understand what they meant by getting in trouble through telling people of this theory. That was until the Military Police questioned you and Erwin. You kept your calm and the two of you thoroughly explained what Mr.Smith had told Erwin, and were let on your way. Unfortunately, Mr. Smith didn't come home that night, leaving Erwin orphaned.

You held Erwin’s hand at his father’s funeral, offering all the emotional support you could. Death is usually hard for children to grasp, but the two of you knew that his death wasn't an accident, and that the Military Police berid of him because of his theories on the history of your society and the world beyond it. While Erwin held onto hope that there was justification in his father’s murder, you rightly knew there couldn't be any motive that would make it right.

As you both continued to grow up you and Erwin always had each other’s backs. Where one of you went the other wasn't far behind, and the both of you intended for it to always be that way. You seemed to be the only two people that had any inkling of the truth, and so it was best you two stuck together. You both decided to join the Survey Corps, as it was your best shot at ever being able to find the truth, and get some sort of vengeance for Mr. Smith. It meant a lot to you to be able to go into the outside and find what you knew had to be true, and it meant just as much to Erwin, probably even more.

When Shiganshina district fell and Commander Shadis stepped away from his position, Erwin was appointed his successor. Before he was officially sworn in you got him alone, wanting to know how he was feeling about it all. There was nobody in the world who you were closer to than Erwin, and you knew this was going to be a lot for him to handle.

“So, am I going to have to start calling you Commander now? I am technically older than you, addressing you as my superior will be kind of weird.”

“For you and me both, but if this is the task I’m giving then I'm going to do it, and do it proudly. If they think I’m fit enough to lead the Scouts it's an honor, and it's one I can't give up. Especially if that means I can get closer to the truth. You know I have to do this y/n.” You let out a small sigh, nodding your head. You pulled up a chair beside him, putting an arm around him.

“I know you do, but just know I’m always here. I've been your right hand since we were kids, and you've been mine. That isn't ever changing. We’re gonna find the truth, no matter how many expeditions it takes. I couldn't possibly think of a better person to take orders from than you.”

Since his father had died Erwin didn’t smile much, but in that moment he flashed a big one at you, and it was almost like the two of you were kids again.

The Survey Corps wasn't an easy job in the slightest. A lot of the time you had to watch your comrades die in front of you, while you yourself were just narrowly escaping the jaws of death. Add onto that a growing dislike by the public, and it took quite the thick skin to proudly call yourself a scout. You did so without second thought, especially now that your best friend was the commander. You did get moments of escape, though, and you did get to become really close to the people you worked with. From the day you met Moblit Berner you found him to be quite the endearing person. He seemed almost too soft to be a scout initially, but softness wasn't really an option for him as he was tasked with keeping Section Commander Hange in check.

You and Moblit had developed a bit of a romance within a fairly short period of time. You were attracted to his kindness, how gentle and loyal he was behind the panicky exterior. You had a lot of love for him in your heart, but part of you couldn't lay a finger on why you didn't see longevity with him. It was in no way his fault, at the very least you were sure of that, but you couldn't quite give a clear explanation as to why it was you felt that way. The question plagued you, and it became obvious Moblit was starting to catch on.

“Y/n?” He asked, shaking your arm lightly and breaking you out of your trance. The two of you were in his chambers, just talking as you normally did. Nothing was out of the ordinary, despite you being so uncharacteristically distracted.

“Sorry, sorry I was just really lost in thought. There's a lot going on right now, it's all really overwhelming.”

“Yeah, it is. But I don't think work is why you're feeling so overwhelmed, at least not the whole reason why.” You sighed at Moblit’s words, running a hand through your hair. You weren't exactly sure what to say, it's not like you could explain what you were feeling at all.

“I get it, though. I've been feeling really overwhelmed too, and not just because of work. I don’t really know how else to say this, so I’m just going to come clean. Y/n, I care for you a lot, and I don’t want you to think that I don’t, or that I've been lying to you or anything. It’s just that I’ve come to realize that I actually have really strong feelings for Nifa, and-”

“You...you’re saying that you have feelings for someone else?” You quickly cut him off. You avoided eye contact with him, trying to decipher what you were feeling to the best of your ability.

“I am, and I’m really sorry that’s the case, but I have to be honest with you and with myself.”

The both of you sat in silence for a while, the quiet thick in the air. You still couldn't tell what you were feeling, and you weren't sure you were going to be able to figure it out yourself, either.

“It's okay, Moblit. I’m just glad you were honest with me, I guess. I wish you the best, and I hope Nifa returns your sentiments. You're a really good guy, and she's a really good girl. I hope it all goes well for you two.”

Before Moblit could even reply you left the room, heading straight to Erwin’s without once looking back. Moblit didn't bother to chase you, knowing well that it was better to leave you be to work out your feelings. You didn't waste time knocking on Erwin’s door, simply opening it up and leaning against it as you closed it. He was sat at the small table in the room, writing in a journal by the firelight. He looked up at you in confusion, not at all mad you simply came busting in, though. It was something you did since you were kids, he was completely used to it by that point.

“Moblit just broke up with me.” You said, finally peeling yourself off the door. Erwin stood and walked over to hug you, his much bigger frame engulfing yours as he did his best to comfort you.

“I’m really sorry about that, Y/n. What happened?” He asked as he pulled away, going back to sit and you joining him in the seat opposite his.

“He told me he has feelings for Nifa. I can’t really say I'm surprised, she’s a beautiful girl, has a great personality.”

“It’s not like you don't, you know. Don't sell yourself short.”

“I’m not, I’m not. I guess if I were him I would have feelings for her, too. Especially with how I’ve been lately. I wasn't ever really present with him. Something always just felt off to me, and I couldn't put my finger on what exactly it was.”

Erwin took a moment to think before he responded, closing the journal and putting it aside.

“Were you simply just losing interest in him?” He questioned.

“I dunno, I kinda feel like I wasn't ever really interested in him at all.” You started, letting out a sigh before continuing.

“I feel like...I feel like what I felt for Moblit was almost like I was just...deflecting what I was actually feeling.”

“And what was it that you were actually feeling?” Erwin replied, looking a bit confused as to what you meant.

You looked into his eyes, the same eyes you had gazed upon for countless years now, and in that moment, something clicked in your head. Every moment the two of you had spent together, every time one of you saved the other, every laugh, every smile, every word of support, it all flooded you in an instant. It felt as if the whole world shifted, like nothing ever really made any sort of sense until that very moment. The two of you had been by each other’s side for so long, and you had watched him grow from a bright eyed child to a strong willed man, and in every moment you could think of you had been falling deeper and deeper in love with him.

“That I love you, Erwin. And I guess I kind of always have.”

Your words were simple, concise. Erwin’s gaze turned soft as you spoke, and he moved his chair over to sit in front of you. He took your hand in his, gently running his thumb over your knuckles. Both of your hands were callused and hardened from years of training and fighting, and yet in that moment there was a softness in how he held your hand that you didn't know either of you could even possess at this juncture.

“I’ve been waiting a really long time to hear you say that, Y/n.” Your head, which was down so you could watch how he held your hand, immediately perked up as you heard him speak words you couldn't even believe were real. This time it was you that looked at him in confusion, which melted away as he leaned in and kissed you. You gathered from his words that Erwin had been feeling this same way for a considerable amount of time, yet wasn't sure if he should act on it or not. While part of you wish he would've, you were glad he didn't. This moment was utterly perfect, and even the slightest of differences wouldn't have made it the same.

Erwin pulled you into his lap, kissing you harder now that the gap between your bodies had been bridged. His arms stayed wrapped around your waist, and your hands snaked up into his hair, tangling themselves in his golden strands. For a moment you thought about how this might affect your friendship, but you realized your friendship had always been so much more than just that. This was just the culmination of years of pent up emotion.

Erwin placed kiss after kiss on your jaw, bringing them down to your neck as he softly bit your skin. In an instant you remembered how you complained about how Moblit was too soft with you to Erwin, and it seemed he had learned from the other man’s mistakes. A soft moan escaped your lips as Erwin continued to mark his territory, each kiss and bite making you fall weaker and weaker in his grasp. You began to grind your hips into his, enjoying the friction between the two of you. Erwin stood, moving his arm under your thighs to hold you up, walking over to the bed and carefully laying you down. He loomed over you, illuminated by the moonlight bleeding in from the window on your left, and the candlelight on the right. He looked utterly godly above you, it made you crave even more of him.

He started to quickly unbutton his shirt, and you did the same, needing to lessen the number of layers between your skin. This wasn't the first time you had seen Erwin shirtless, although it wasn't necessarily a common occurrence, and this time it made your cheeks heat up. You simply couldn't believe how beautiful he was. A small smirk pulled up the corner of his lips as he leaned down closer to you, his lips just barley ghosting over yours.

“Like what you see, gorgeous?” He teased, kissing you needily. You chuckled lightly, nodding your head a bit. Erwin was never like this, the playfulness in his tone so different than his usual stoicism. Seeing him like that was enough of a turn on, but the fact his affections were focused on you made it even more attractive.

“More than you’ll ever know.” You replied before kissing him again. He trailed kisses down your neck and onto your chest, once again starting to mark you up. He showed no restraint in how he touched you, and you allowed him free reign over your body. He swiftly removed your bra and left a mess of small hickeys and bruises all over your torso. He took time to take your nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly on the nub as he rolled the opposite one between his fingers. Your fingers scratched at his back, your legs wrapped around his waist to keep him close. Even just this felt euphoric, and it only made you want more, whatever “more” could be.

“May I?” Erwin asked as he tugged lightly on the waistband of your pants. You nodded quickly, and with a smile he undressed you further. Shoes, pants and underwear were discarded onto the floor, and there you were, completely bare in front of him. Erwin took a moment to admire you. Even if you were a soldier, a warrior, in this moment you were as delicate as a flower to him, the most precious rose. You were so small in comparison to him he almost mistook you for fragile, but he knew better than anyone just how strong you actually were, and how much you could take. In a more literal, fighting sense at least. He wanted to make you melt, though, and was certain he knew well how to.

He left kiss after kiss on your inner thighs, making you squirm in anticipation. He held your hips down, halting all movement he didn't approve of. The mere sight of him between your thighs made you so excited, your pussy already dripping without having been touched even once. It was almost embarrassing for you, but it only made Erwin want to devour you even more. He moved your legs to drape over his shoulders, and his hands held onto your thighs as he finally made contact with your core. The lightest touch of his tongue felt like the sweetest sensation, had you been any more deprived of pleasure than you were just that would've been enough to bring you close to the edge, but you were intent on holding out for him.

His lips closed around your clit, sucking lightly as he brought a hand down to your folds, fingers teasing your entrance. With how wet you were they were easily permitted entry, two of Erwin’s digits pushing into you with ease. Your hips circled on his mouth and your hands moved to his hair to push his head closer to you, anything to feel more, anything to bring yourself to the edge of glory and then some. His fingers curled up to brush up on the most sensitive parts of you, the feeling making your back arch and an elongated moan to fall from your lips. You didn’t want to get too loud, as it was getting late and you knew your comrades were probably trying to get some sleep, but you truly couldn’t help yourself, nothing had ever felt as good as this, and you were just getting started.

It didn’t take much more for you to rocket into your first orgasm, your juices coating his fingers. He slowed them down, their pace having been fairly rapid, until you reached the end of your orgasm. He pulled them out slowly, agonizingly so, and licked them clean, taking in your flavor. A smirk curled the side of his mouth, and without a word he was right back between your thighs, lapping up every last drop of you.

“E-Erwin…” You breathlessly pleaded, chest heaving as overstimulation started to poke at your senses. You didn’t even know what you were pleading for. You surely didn’t want him to stop pleasing you, frankly if you could do this for hours on end you would’ve, but you simply couldn’t articulate what it was you wanted. Erwin came up from between your legs, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips as his body once again engulfed yours.

As he pulled away you looked into his eyes, the little skies you came to know so well, and you saw something there you’d never seen before. A mixture of love and lust that darkened their color just a bit. Even the look in his eyes made it quite clear what his intentions with you were, and you had no intention of objecting to whatever was to come.

“Quiet down, baby. Just trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

Erwin quickly undressed himself completely, not wanting to waste any more time. He wanted to be inside you just as badly as you wanted him, maybe even more. If there was anything he needed, it was a night off. A night to indulge himself in pleasures he usually denied, too wrapped up in military life to give anything of that nature a second thought. If there was anyone who was going to get him like this, it was you, the woman he was madly in love with.

For a lot of people, all work and no play made them dull. For Erwin, however, it made him all the more ready to give you absolutely everything.

With a quick thrust he entered you, making your back arch hard as your hands grabbed onto his arms for support. The man was very naturally endowed, and taking only about half of him as you were was still a lot, and he was well aware of that. He wanted to push you, see how much you could actually take. Once you seemed to settle he gave you the rest at a much more manageable pace, a smirk on his lips as he bottomed out.

“Look at that, so you can handle it. Good girl.” He praised, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead before he started to move. His strokes were slow, but they hit so deep, you felt so full. Just as he had said, he certainly knew what he was doing.

He took you like this for a while, admiring how utterly gorgeous you looked like this. How you squirmed with his every move, how your mouth laid open lazily as you moaned, how your eyes started to glaze over as you gave yourself over to undying pleasure. It was a thing of beauty, slowly ruining you as he was. He brought a hand to wrap around your neck, squeezing softly before picking up the pace of his thrusts. He didn't question if you could take it, he knew you would.

The slight asphyxiation turned the feeling of pleasure up to ten, making your walls clench tighter around Erwin’s length. As he picked up his speed your hands moved to his back, your nails lightly marking up his skin. Your body jolted upward with how he pounded into you, it was utterly relentless. You moved one of your hands to rub your clit, another orgasm ready to take you over. You quickly hooked your legs around his waist, letting him in even deeper, and a couple thrusts as this new angle sent you into your second orgasm.

You were getting pretty loud, and as much as Erwin loved all the pretty little noises you were making, he knew it was probably better to quiet you down some. He let go of your throat and pulled out, flipping you onto your stomach. Your cheek came clad to the pillow below you, and you felt your hips being pushed up into the air. Erwin had to stop for a second to admire this display, the way your pussy gleamed with your essence, it was intoxicating.

“Keep it quiet. Don't give me a reason to punish you, angel.” His words were both orders and a warning, and you were in your right mind to obey. You nodded your head just as he pushed into you once again, and you let a long moan out into the pillow beneath you.

His hands gripped hard onto your hips, and once again he moved at a pace that let you know his lust was borderline insatiable. You moved your hips in time with his, the sound of skin to skin contact filling the room. Erwin let out low grunts from between his lips, and in harmony with your muffled moans a symphony of the utmost carnal desires was being played. Every instrument, your bodies, perfectly in tune.

As strong as you were, you felt so weak, your legs about ready to give out with how bad they were shaking. If it weren’t for Erwin holding you up you certainly would’ve toppled to the bed by now, but you were trying your hardest to hold your own. You wanted, nay, needed to take him. To take everything he gave you, and more if possible.

Moan after moan spilled helplessly onto the pillow as you felt him begin to lightly twitch inside you. Your walls tightened around his length for the last couple thrusts, and he soon emptied a fairly large load of his seed inside of you.

The both of you breathed heavily, exhaustion starting to set into your bodies. He pulled out of you slowly, sitting back and watching his cum start to drip out of you. Just as your legs completely gave out he scooped you up and laid you on your back. He moved to lay beside you, and you placed your head on his chest, just listening to his heartbeat as you both caught your breath. You almost couldn’t believe what had just transpired, had it not been for the exhaustion you felt, and you now joining hands with Erwin.

“Do you think things will ever end? And maybe our lives can be somewhat normal?” You asked, eyes fixed on you and Erwin’s hands. He rubbed your back with his free hand, tracing small shapes into your skin.

“I’m not sure, honestly. One could only hope, I guess.”

“Well I do. When things are finally safe and all, I think we should buy a nice house, have a couple kids, and just live a quiet life.” You replied, looking up at him with a small smile. Despite how much you loved being in the Survey Corps, and how important it was to you to be here and to fight for your freedom, part of you wished things were different. You wished you and Erwin could just go off and be together, but both of you were so deeply loyal to your cause, it just wasn’t a possibility.

“Yeah, I think that’d be nice. When we finally make it out, I promise you we can.” You smiled even brighter at his words, placing a soft kiss on his lips before nuzzling back into his chest.

“Until then, we’re keeping each other safe. Just like we always have. That means I’m going to need you to gamble with your life just a little bit less.” Erwin laughed lightly, nodding his head in reply.

“Well to be fair, up until a little while ago, I had nothing to lose. Now I do.”

#attack on titan #attack on titan smut #shingeki no kyojin #commander erwin #erwin #aot erwin #erwin smith #erwin smut

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newtonsheffield · 3 years

Note

Can you do Anthony’s reaction when someone disrespects Kate at work or in her personal life about her relationship with Anthony or her job position? Anthony defending her and Kate loving him all the more and/or maybe slightly annoyed.

Hello! I’m so sorry that this request has been just... collecting dust in my inbox I’m truly the worst! And I’m doing something even more reprehensible and combining it with another request ugh! I know! I know! I Will get better at this I promise!!!

Another Anon asked: Can you write about Kate defending the Bridgertons? I feel like someone would bad mouth them and Kate would totally stand up against them and everyone would be impressed.

Okay! On with the show this is also kind of related to a post I made ages ago about a dude objectifying Kate at her University reunion but I can’t find it. Anyway, Dudebro David is back.

“Oh Fuck!” Kate had sighed when Lucy had handed her her schedule this morning, glancing down the list, her eyes rolling when she saw the name David Warner listed as Mr Smith’s divorce attorney. Lucy’s eyebrows widened, her hand fiddling with the engagement ring on her left hand a little nervously. “Is something wrong?” Kate sighed “No, I just... I know Mr Smith’s attorney from university. We... didn’t date exactly we just...” Kate trailed off awkwardly. Lucy made a surprised little noise. “Oh. Well. This should be... interesting.” She said, a small smirk starting on her lips. Kate had tutted. “David is a professional, I’m a professional. It’ll be fine.”

It was not fine. From the very moment he’d arrived David Warner, his square jaw set, his hair swept back with a little too much product, had been... snarky at best. He’d pulled Kate in by the arm leaving a kiss against her cheek that had made her want to cringe. “Sheffield! It’s good to see you!” He’d said, a smirk on his face, his hand dropping to her waist. Kate had pulled back, nudging his hand from her and said sharply, “David. I trust you’ve been well.” hoping to discourage him. It did not work. His eyes had flicked over her as they’d sat at the conference table, settling on the rings on her left hand, narrowing a little. And then he’d really started, He’d shot down every attempt at civility, glared at her, made several unseemly inferences. And Kate couldn’t help but wonder if he’d always been this disgustingly misogynistic. She was relieved when Lucy finally stood and said briskly, “I’ll show you out Mr & Mrs Smith.” And yet David Warner had lingered as they’d walked through the hall

“I can’t believe Kate Sheffield sold out!” He said, smirking irritatingly, and Kate could feel the thin strand of her patience fraying slightly further. “You also work for a well known firm David, I can’t imagine your billable hours are worth much less than mine.” She said, a tight smile on her face, desperate to end this interaction. David laughed a little humourlessly “We both know I was always going to do this. Kate Sheffield was going to save the world.” Kate bit back a tut, forced herself to remain civil as she said “Well circumstances change David.” her voice cold when she thought about the real reason she’d come straight back to London after graduating. David opened his mouth to say something else, a sneer forming on his lips though what he was going to say she would never know. “Kate, honey, there you are I was just going to pick up Edmund from-” Anthony said appearing in the bullpen from his office rather suddenly his eyes widening in surprise ad slightly odd recognition as he took in David. Perhaps they’d worked opposite one another before. “Oh! Sorry!” Anthony finished awkwardly. David’s expression dropped into something curiously like disgust forming on his face. Anthony cleared his throat. “David wasn’t it? We met at your reunion I believe.” Anthony’s voice was tight, a warning almost, as his hand went out in front of him. Kate felt her eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise. David eyed Anthony’s hand, the sneer coming to his face all over again as he looked between Kate and her husband.

“And here he is. The second way you sold out Kate: Mr Anthony Bridgerton!” David’s voice was dripping his derision, his jaw set, his eyes narrowed Kate felt her mouth open in surprise a little at the statement, felt Anthony’s arm tighten protectively around her waist. “Was it getting on your knees for the most notorious man in London that changed your circumstances Kate?” David continued, chuckling to himself a little “You know, they say law’s a bit of an old boys club but it sure must be easy for you girls to sleep your way into a partnership. And The Bridgerton’s? Of all people Kate I mean come on!” Kate felt her patience finally snap, but apparently Anthony’s patience had frayed much quicker. His voice was cold fury when he spoke “Mr. Warner, I’m afraid I’m going to ask you not to speak to my colleague that way, I don’t tolerate disrespect towards the employees of this firm in any way. Even less do I tolerate it towards my wife, Sir. Kate is extremely capable, far more than some and was promoted on professional merit alone, I assure you.” He finished coldly, his jaw set, his arm moving as though to move Kate behind him to shield her from what was being said. Kate refused to move, anger building in her chest., she could see Gregory moving closer towards their small group, his arms crossed. David sneered again,

“Come on Bridgerton, pretty honourable for you to marry her afterwards I’ll admit, and I’ll admit from what I remember it might have been worth-” He said, cutting himself off as Anthony lunged towards David his hand thrown out, likely to throttle the man, stopping only when Kate caught his arm, her voice surprising even her in its softness “Anthony don’t.” Anthony’s posture relaxed, turning back towards her, his eyes softening immediately, Kate felt her own anger ebb away as their eyes caught.

“He’s not worth it.” She said softly, and then turning towards her former acquaintance “David, if you’re a tenth as smart as you pretend to be you’ll stop talking.” His mouth opened, sneer still fixed in place, Kate shook her head “David, maybe my life did go down a different road than I thought it would, but you’re exactly where you were ten years ago, tearing other people down to make yourself look bigger, and I feel sorry for you. My life is absolutely none of your business, and it has no impact on my ability to do my job. Which by the way, one of us graduated top of their class, the other scraped out of the bottom ten.” Kate finished, feeling a little smug at David’s mouth falling open in surprise. Anthony arm wrapped around her waist again, she could see the smug smile on his face, his thumb rubbing along the rings on her left hand.

“I am extremely proud of my association with the Bridgerton family, David. And we look out for one another.” Kate said lightly, turning towards Gregory who was standing behind Kate, his arms crossed, doing his best to look imposing despite his bowtie with Mario and Luigi in a jumping high five, their hands meeting at the knot. “Gregory, could you show Mr. Warner out, please.” Kate finished, tugging Anthony from the scene as Gregory gave her a kiss on the cheek before gripping David Warner tightly by the upper arm.

Anthony remained unnervingly silent as Kate pulled him into her own office. His jaw still set in anger as Kate slowly collected her things before turning to her husband, whose eyes were glistening. Her stomach swooped uncomfortably. “You shouldn’t listen to the things he said about you, Anthony.” Kate said, reaching her hand out and running her fingers through his hair. Anthony’s eyes, which had closed at the contact, shot open again at the end of her sentence. His voice came out choked. “Kate, I’m upset because of what he said about you. I’m trying to stop myself from running after him and strangling him.” Kate’s heart clenched at the earnestness in his voice “Anthony, I don’t care what he says about me. I don’t care what anyone says anymore.” And it was true, truly the only emotion she’d felt as she’d stood listening to his words was surprise. David had never really been the type of person to say insults to someone’s face, if he hadn’t insulted Anthony’s family, truly she would have been more impressed at the guts it had taken to say what he’d said about her. “We both know what really happened, right?” Anthony nodded quickly in response “And that’s all that matters. I really do love you you know.” She finished standing slightly on her toes to kiss him lightly as Anthony hummed happily, his posture relaxing. “I love you too, Kate. And you, really are the most incredible person I know.” He said wrapping her in a tight hug, his chin resting on her head, they stayed wrapped together for several moments before Kate chuckled to herself. Pulling back, with a smirk on her face she said,

“And besides Mr. Bridgerton, we both know only one of us has gotten on their knees in this office, and it wasn’t me. Now let’s go and collect our Son.” tugging Anthony from the office laughing as he puffed his chest out and said “You’re damn right. And I’d do it again.”

#bridgerton and sons au #kathony #anthony x kate #anthony bridgerton #kate sheffield #kate sharma #dudebro david #anthony is ready to throw down #molly's asks and answers

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ajbwasntwriting · 3 years

Text

To Serve and Protect (Bucky Barnes x Police!Fem!Reader)

the twd obsession has been interrupted since I’ve started watch TFATWS and have binged bucky fics like I was 15.

Summery: - Reader is an accomplished New York officer but an old case comes back in the shape of a super soldier in need of aid.

Warnings: - Light Spoilers for TFATWS, Cursing, mentions of Human Trafficking, flirty Bucky(kind of I tried)

You had just received your second medal of honor before the blip had occurred. When you came back, you were nearly arrested for breaking into what you had known as your apartment. Luckily, the situation was under control quickly. You had family just outside the city who were willing to support you until you got back on your feet but it still felt like a kick in the gut that your home was gone and you now had to learn a bunch of new skills to do with being a cop. Most of your friends had either died during the five years or had to move out of New York, and those who remained had moved on and didn’t seem to have time for you in their lives.

At least a few of your favourite places had stayed open, including what you thought was the best pizza joint in the state. You got dinner here most nights because it hadn’t changed. The tables still wobbled, the neon sign still buzzed from overuse, and Louis the owner still kept a couple slices of your favorite pie in the back for you.

“Please tell me the back booth is free” you sighed, taking the food from Louis.

“Long day, Detective?” Louis replied.

“New partner thinks I’m an idiot.” You mumble, taking a bite from the pie and burning your tongue.

“It’s clear,” Louis said sympathetically, nodding to the far side of the restaurant.

You slid into the small booth tucked out of the way, tucking into your pizza and soda. After your first slice you noticed a carving on the table. It was your initials plus A.S. equals epic. You smiled as you remembered your previous partner Aarush Sharma. You two had been friends since you joined the force and had come to this booth almost every break hour to fill up on pizza and terrible coffee.

“Detective L/N.” A gruff voice spoke to you. Judging by the shadow he casted over you, he was a big man.

“Look if your here to buy me off or intimidate me,” you snapped, “then you can fu-” you stopped short when you looked up. You recognised the man as James Buchanen Barnes instantly. “Oh,” you sighed with relief.

“You know me?” he asked you.

“Followed the Zemo case.” you explained. He visibly tensed at the mention of Zemo. You held up your hand to calm him. “I know you’ve been pardoned.” You suddenly remembered how your conversation with the Winter Soldier had begun “wait, how do you know me?”

“I need your help,” He spoke low, just so the two of you could hear. He slid opposite you in the booth, leaning forward on the table. “Two-thousand-fifteen, August seventh you filed a report on a human trafficking ring operating out of staten island.” You began eating your second slice of pizza as he talked. “You arrested the main perpetrators, with the exception of Donnie Morris and Frank Abara. You opened an investigation on them but it went cold two months later.” You nodded along to the story. “That’s because-”

“They’re Hydra? Real names Robert Bern and Josh Smith? And the trafficking was for human experimentation?” you interrupted him. He stared at you, just about concealing his surprise. “I was a good cop.” you finished off your pizza, wiping your mouth and looking away in shame. “Was.”

“Why’d you stop?” he asked.

“They threatened me.” You patted the flour off your hands and picked up your soda. “And when that didn’t work, they told my friends to stop me else their family would be hurt, so.” you slurped on your soda and stared back at him.

His piercing blue eyes were reading you like a book, pulling apart your disgust at never catching them, and trying to figure out how to use it to his advantage. He had to admit it was impressive that a normal police officer was able to get farther than he was, but you were still a normal person.

“I need to find them,” he spoke up.

“Why?” you cocked your eyebrow, soda straw still in your mouth. You had been studying his face to find any tell of malintent but the only conclusion you were drawing was that he was handsome as hell, and really good at hiding his tells.

“You don’t need to know.” he retorted. You hummed with discontent.

“See, Mr. Barnes. My job is to protect and serve. Sadly, that includes assholes.” You put down the now empty soda cup and leaned forward to match his position. “And you’ve said enough for me to arrest you under suspicion of planning to commit a crime against said assholes.” His glare hardened and his jaw tightened as he stared you down. “So please answer the question, ideally in a non-incriminating way.”

He looked and huffed, sliding back a little before fixing you with his stare again, but it wasn’t long until he was looking from his hands to the window, seemingly in defeat. “Their boss is dangerous. And I’m the one that made it so.” He forced a bitter smile finally looking back at you. “I’m trying to right as many wrongs as I can but I can’t find this guy but you.” he punctuated by pointing at you with his joined hands. You caught a glint of something metal up his sleeve that you suspect was his arm. “You came very, very close. Apparently, Closer than I thought you did.”

You mulled it over in your head for a moment before reaching into your breast pocket and pulling out your notepad. “Look, I don’t know what to tell you, Mr. Barnes” You looked over the restaurant between bouts of writing, talking all the while in case people were listening. “The case is closed and the records are public so everything you know is everything I know.” You quietly ripped off the piece of paper and pocketed the notebook, picking up your trash to disguise it. He took the hint and hid the paper by putting his hands down and sliding back in the booth, seemingly in defeat. “Good night, Mr. Barnes.” you said, and walked away, depositing your trash on your way out.

Bucky sat their a moment to give you a head start before stepping out himself, piece of paper in hand. As he walked home he opened the paper.

Tomorrow Seneca Village 23:35

Bucky stood in front of the plaque, mind too busy working through every horrible thing that could happen from this little stunt. He was about to run when he heard your voice. “Hey there.”

You walked over and stood next to him, stoically in your repose. You were wearing a pair of jeans and heeled boots with a fashionable jacket and a suitcase in hand. “I don't know which of us is stupider right now.”

“You could have picked a better meeting spot.” Bucky retorted, shifting uncomfortably.

“It’s horrifying,” you commented, putting the case down, Reading over the plaque. “Over two hundred lives ruined by a couple of assholes who wanted a park. Reminds me of another couple of assholes.”

“Yeah?” Bucky replied. You stood there a moment longer, thinking if you could still go back. You bit your tongue and decided having faith was the better bet.

“Burn it when you’re done.” you shot back and walked past him.

Bucky noticed the case just outside his line of vision. He picked it up and walked away from the plaque, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible despite the case not really matching his attire.

You didn’t hear anything for a couple weeks after the impromptu meeting, having handed over every piece of evidence that had been sitting in your self storage since 2015. Each minute was spent biting your nails with stress, hoping your actions didn’t come back to bite you in the ass. Then the news came on, publicizing that Robert Bern and Josh Smith had been arrested ‘after it was discovered they were connected to a human trafficking ring in New Jersey and a former operation in Staten Island.’

“Looks like somebody did your job for you.”

“Shut up, Louis.” you quip back at him, nursing a terrible cup of coffee. The restaurant was near empty aside from yourself, Louis, a trio of loud drunk women in the corner and a homeless man who had scraped cents together to buy a slice of pizza. The TV above the kitchen archway providing most of the ambiance.

“What’s got you in a mood?” he asked as he cleaned.

“Ever been ditched on a blind date? I get all dolled up,” you opened your coat to show a figure hugging dress with a low neckline, coupled with an elegant necklace. “And the asshole texts me when I’m already at the lounge saying he needs a fucking rain check.”

“Okay, well he’s an ass-”

“Right!” you exclaim.

“But you need to stop scowling before you scare off my customers.” Louis playfully chided.

“Oh, cause there’s so many of them.” you waved a hand out at the restaurant to emphasize your point. Still you leaned over your coffee to stew in your own misery. You couldn’t hear the door open over the women’s third rendition of ‘I’m every woman’ but you noticed someone slide onto the bar stool next to you. You turned your head to see Bucky looking back.

“Have I seen you here before?” Bucky said playfully.

You chuckled involuntarily and sat up on your stool. “You must be mistaking me with someone else.”

He swiveled on the stool to face you fully, leaning on the counter comfortably. “You sure?” he seemed to be playing with you, a sly smirk on his face. “Could’ve sworn I met this detective lady here who looked a lot like you.”

“Was she pretty?” You pressed, a smile now sneaking it’s way onto your face without you knowing.

Bucky looked in your eyes with a soft sincerity. “Incredibly,”

You laughed nervously as you looked away and into the pool of your coffee. “Was that before or after she helped you with your job.” You deflected.

“About that,” Bucky leaned onto the counter. He was still quiet good at hiding his tells but you got the impression he was nervous by the pause. “You gave me more than I needed so I was able to do better than I planned. I know how hard it can be to trust someone. I'm not sure how to thank you for that.”

“Take her on a date!” Louis yelled from the kitchen, looking at you two through the serving window. “She’s already all ‘dolled up’” Louis mocked you.

“Keep cleaning!” you shot back. “Ignore him. He’s just dripping with sympathy since I got ditched.”

“I mean,” Bucky started, you looked over and saw him staring at his hands with nerves as his thumbs tapped against each other. “I just wouldn’t know where to take you.” he admitted under his breath.

A question instantly plagued your mind and it demanded to be asked. “Have you not...since nineteen-fifty?”

Bucky nodded with pursed lips. “You can laugh.”

You smiled at the super soldier. “Right,” you announced, pushing yourself off the stool. “Come on, I know a great dive three down.”

“A dive?” Bucky asked in disbelief, but he was still smiling.

“Yep. Where they don’t give a shit who you are as long as you're buying.” You fixed your jacket with new found enthusiasm. “You are buying, right?”

“For a doll like you,” He stood up from the stool. “I’ll buy the bar.” he held the door as you both left the little pizzeria

“Oh honey, there’s nothing like me.” you said playfully as you stepped out the door.

“Then I must be the luckiest man in the world,” he flirted, offering you his arm. You slide your hand in, curling your wrist around his bicep and off you both went.

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #tfatws #tftws #reader x bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james barnes #reader x bucky barnes #fem!reader #fem!reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x fem!reader #remale reader #reader insert #mcu reader insert #mcu bucky #mcu bucky barnes

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southerneldritch · 3 years

Text

-One Year Later, Isaac-

With a satisfying scrape the metal tip of the chisel finished its last draw across the cold stone. A few short words were spoken and the newly-etched sigil began to glow. A smile came across the speaker’s lips and he lifted the cold stone with its warm glow to gently place it onto a tray with several others. The placement of this particular stone had no significance, but Isaac found the alignment of the glowing colors satisfying as the stone was nestled among them with intent and power. He wiped his hands off on his leather apron in time to see Oliver approach.

“Well now, did this latest addition change anything?” Oliver inquired. His firm, deep voice indicated genuine interest along with some concern. “We’ve been working on the Telum for well over a year and with your brief hiatus I was afraid I might have lost my most valuable asset to uncovering more of this mystery.”

“You’re too kind, '' Isaac retorted. “Yet I find this particular sigil, though drawn from what we’ve found not only on the Telum and the Son Fire, to be lacking. There seems to be no significant difference.” He let out a sigh as he grasped a stale, but still warm, cup of coffee and brought it to his lips. The flavor certainly… existed, but even as Isaac had advanced in his position with Oliver here at Verum, the coffee did little to encourage his permanent residence. He smirked. “Though this shit doesn’t help the brain”

“No” Oliver laughed ��It really doesn’t.” He leaned on the table near the setting of softly glowing sigils, “But Goodwin has no intent on supplying us with anything better. If we want it, we gotta go across the street ourselves.”

“Well Goodwin can stuff it” Isaac smirked as he downed what was left in the cup. Before he could add anything to his comment, a woman came through the door and handed Oliver a slip of paper.

“Alright. Thank you Maria.” Oliver turned to Isaac. “Well, take a break, we got some simple rifling engraving to do. Seems like there’s a Bokrug that’s somehow found its way through the looking glass, as it were.” He glared at his own cup of coffee. “Normal sort of Glassway banishing will do, you know what to do.”

“Right” Isaac nodded as he slipped the barrel of a Military 1911 off an opposite workbench and began etching into it. “You know” he spoke as his steel cut steel “We might be going about this all wrong. Maybe my pop and Maxim were working with a different intent.”

“Oh?” Oliver quereied as he locked a piece of metal into a vice. “And what intent do you think we’re missing?”

“Something deeper” He paused as his blade easily cut the last curl across a signet that emblazoned the barrel. “Something that they felt in themselves. We appreciate the drive and the goal of our actions, but maybe we aren’t channeling the correct feeling into the glyphs….not firing the sigils properly to cast the power we know is there?”

“Hmmm” Oliver looked up from his piece and scratched the hairs on his chin. “That seems like something we should have considered.” With a smirk, he turned his stool and faced Isaac. “Do you know when your father did what he did to your revolver?”

“Well” Isaac paused, he thought long and hard. While his dad had always been a loving and caring man, a dutiful person, he could not recall a single instance of his father doing anything other than hanging his gun up at night. He was not the sort to brandish or even play at flair with it. In fact, Isaac as a young man hardly thought of the firearm until he received it. “No... but maybe that’s because it’s a part of it, right?”

“How do you mean?”

“If we’re to take the sigil expression from left hand path practice and combine it with Preternatural iconographic tendencies then we have a practice, or rather...” Isaac stood and pointed at the sigils glowing on the stones, copies of the Telum and Son Fire. “...Perhaps these were cast with intent but ignored afterwards?”

“But chaos magik is one shot, kid.” Oliver asserted as he rose and stood beside him by the glowing stones. “If this were something of the left hand path then we’d see the object destroyed after use, but both these things can be used again and again. With any user” He sat on the back of a chair as he sought a response.

“You’re right” Isaac considered. He laid out his experience, from the shattering atrium of the greater history museum, to the last time he saw the good doctor transform into something well beyond reason over a year ago. “But what if that’s precisely it? Perhaps we’re seeing why a Left hand cast sigil might have power to those unaware?” He quickly stepped towards one of the many bookshelves inside the smithing shop and pulled a volume. “What if the caster couldn’t use it, as their intent would be recognizable? Maybe they needed others who were unaware to wield it?!”

“...” There was a stunned silence on Oliver’s face “So...your dad did what he did for you….and Maxim for what? The war? Profit?” Before Isaac could answer Maria walked in another time.

“Goodwin is requesting GoldShot Mr. Wade '' Her voice was mellow and cool, like she had mentioned the weather at midnight in the basement of a downtown office building, which coincidentally was where she was.

“Not a problem. Isaac, grab that box over there” Oliver gestured.

As Isaac reached for the box the whole structure of the building shook, down to its foundations.

“What the?” He paused. The lights flickered and then went out. Every rune, sigil, and icon they had etched into the stones was now glowing a sickly blue. His eyes quickly shifted to his shoulder holster where the Son Fire was glowing with the orange of the sun. Peering over towards the case with the Telum, the edges emitting a vibrant orange light. “Goodwin needed wh…”

The phone rang. Isaac cut off. With little hesitation he lifted the receiver and answered. A brief pause to listen... “What’s happening where, John!?” He exclaimed.

“What’s happening?” Oliver asked with a slight amount of panic in his voice. He was not accustomed to his shop growing dark or the sigils he’s working with changing. “Which John?”

“Randolph” Isaac rolled his eyes and went back to listening to the voice in the receiver. A nod, a shrug. “Well, head that way, we’ll meet you there” He answered and hung up.

“Well?” Oliver said, smirking as he eyed the aprons they both wore. “We doing field work?”

“Yes. Now grab a gun” Isaac stepped towards his jacket on the coat rack. “The sky apparently is falling….”

(By J. Daily)

#paranornal #supernatural #southern eldritch #microfiction #writing #private detective #southern gothic #Avenyork #Georgia #Magic #Sigil

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midnight-inthe-kitchen · 3 years

Text

“Hotel Potter” (Part 2)

Paring: Remus x Reader (Marauders Era)

Warnings: Fluff, kind of slow compared to the next part😎

Word Count: 2057

The Potter “Manor” was almost exactly what you were expecting... It appeared a little more humble from the outside, clearly trying to blend in with the other houses on the street, but was no doubt ‘the house to see’ on the block. The interior, which was filled and decorated with a million+ fancy, expensive, and delicately old items, was even more extravagant.

“Wow, James... I didn’t know your father was so wealthy,” Marlene joked as she brushed her feet off on the ornate outdoor mat. (Both Marlene and Mary, who was staying with the McKinnons for the rest of winter break, ran out to meet everyone when they saw them apperate outside. The Mckinnons and the Potter’s were next door neighbors... I checked ;)

James fixed his glasses as he opened the door for the rest of his friends. “Oh, I um- He just works for the Ministry, that’s all.” He knew Marlene knew full well of his family’s background, but decided to clear it up for everyone else.

“I think it’s lovely,” you mentioned, looking all around the front room. Your gaze was fixed on a stain glass window in the ceiling. Looking back down to the patterned tile, you watched the colors dance all over the floor as a swaying tree blocked certain beams of light from shining through.

Remus had started to wander to a large bookshelf in the entryway, skimming over the book covers, waiting for everyone else to enter.

“Okay James... Why don’t you show us where we’ll be sleeping before these two start drooling over your expensive things,” Lily guest wired to you and Remus as she defiantly strutted through the doorway.

James gave a low bow and pretended to tip an imaginary hat before practically dropping the door on Peter. (Mary somehow caught it before it could slammed into his face...)

“Of coarse, milady- But first...” He pulled out his wand and pressed it to his neck. After warning everyone to cover they’re ears in which everyone did except Sirius and Marlene, he muttering sonorus and followed it with “Alfred!”

Sirius cackled under his breath while everyone else flinched. “You’re still making him respond to that?” Sirius laughed, wheeling around to see James.

James just shrugged, “He can’t really hear when I call him anyways, so it just kind of sticked,”

“... stuck,” You corrected under your breath.

From around a corner, a very old, probably very deaf, house elf responded to his call. “Yes, master Wayne?”

You scoffed under your breath. Joining Sirius and James in the laughter, you realized you three were the only ones who got the reference. “Nice, James,” you smiled, giving him credit for such a golden muggle reference in such a pure-blooded house hold.

James shot you a quick grin before pocketing his wand again. “Alfred, my dear butler, have my parents left for Rome yet?” he asked respectfully.

Alfred-the-house-elf squinted his eyes before holding up a shaky hand to his ear. “Well, Sir, I saved Mr Black’s bone from his last visits, is that wha-”

Sirius’ eyes widened as James cut him off with a wave of his hand, completely confused as to what the house elf had thought he said. “No, no sorry...” He rested his hand on his wand, debating weather he should take it out again. He cupped his hands around his mouth instead. “...ARE EUPHEMIA AND FLEAMONT STILL HERE?”

The elf scrunched his face and waved his finger in the air. “Don’t try to fool me, Mr James, you and your friends are still to you to drink beer.”

James huffed, as he decided he’d look for them himself. “Stay here just in case they’re still packing...” he addressed the group of friends. “... They’ll want to see everyone before they head off.” He started down a hallway you had been eyeing with large portraits of what you could only assume were the many generations of Potters.

You walked over to “Alfie” wanting to be nice and ask such an old creature how his day was going. “Excuse me,” you started from behind the ancient potato sac. “Excuse me?” You raided your voice a little while taping on his shoulder.

He jumped a little, but smiled sweetly when he saw you. “What can I do for you, ma’am” he asked, completely opblivious to your previous attempts.

“Oh-” you stuttered at being called ‘ma’am’. “You can just call me Y/n,” you smiled. “O-or not if you don’t want to... Whatever you like,”

Suddenly realizing you were rambling and that Alfie probably couldn’t hear half of what you were saying anyways, you recollected yourself. “Sorry, but I was wondering how long you’ve been working for the Potters?” You tired to start up a friendly conversation but this time you bent down so that he could hear you better.

The house elf scrunched his face again trying to recollect the distant past. “Well,” he started, but before he could finish, Lily was bent beside you.

“Hi, I’m sorry,” she looked to you and then back to Alfred, clearly a little bit on edge. “... But do you happen to know what the sleeping arrangements are?” she asked ‘Alfie’.

He looked to her, smiled, and then went back to you. “... Masters Mr and Mrs Potter were so kind to have accepted me from the previous Mr and Mrs Potter, even after knowing of my poor hearing...” he whispered like it was a secret. “I always had a new master before Mrs Euphemia and Mr Fleamont... The whole Potter family would take turns passing me around for some reason, but I loved meeting all of them.”

He continued his life story for a few more seconds before you turned to Lily and smiled. “I don’t think he could hear you...”

“Oh,” she giggled before turning back to the house elf. “Excuse me?” she tried again, this time a little louder.

Alfred slowly tuned his head once he had finished his sentence. “Did James set up the beds so that I was with him by any chance?”

“On the conterary, Master Bruce Wayne made me wait to assign your bed so that you would be most comfortable...”

Lily heaved a heavy sigh before thanking him and walking around. You joined her because what could possibly be bothering her now?

“Okay, hey... What’s going on?”

Lily crossed her arms as she shifted her weight nervously. “This is nice,” she started.

You laughed because what a dumb thing to be so outwardly anxious about. “Yeah, I know, his parents must have loads of money to-”

“No,” she cut you off, squinting her eyes suspiciously. “This is too nice... I think he’s planning something— I mean why else would would he wait to pick the beds for-”

“BECUSE HE LIKES YOU AND WANTS YOU TO BE HAPPY!...” You whisper-yell in her face while throwing your arms up exasperatedly. “I can’t believe you can’t just accept you like him and make things easier for everyone...” Lily’s face betrayed her as it turned crimson.

Apparently you weren’t nearly quiet enough because before she could utter any kind of self justification, Sirius slid over from nowhere and leaned his elbow and her shoulder. “Talking about James and Lily’s love life?” he questioned nonchalantly.

Lily shrugged his arm off her. “EW, no.” she lied. “Just the... sleeping arrangements, you nosey pig.”

Sirius grinned as he looked slyly over to you. “Well... In that case, Y/n, I hope you like cheese or books because I just so happen to know the sleeping arrangements and James thought he’d give you the option...” Lily rolled her eyes as you blushed while trying to mentally run thought all the people in correspondence with cheese and books. Books had to be Remus, right?... So Peter must be cheese??? YiKeS... Um, I’ll take the books please.................That’s not what came out though.

“Whatever works is fine with me, I really don’t care,” you smile sweetly. Lily hits you in the arm but you ignore it along the stare you can feel boring into the side of your face. Sirius just watched you skeptically trying to decide wether or not he should step into your nonexistent romance and take matters out of your embarrassed, slow-moving hands. Apparently he has decided because a couple seconds later he shouted across the room, “Hey Moony?” You turn on instinct to see Remus look up from the book he was studying. “You wanna bunk with Y/n this weekend?”

Remus’ eyes darted from Sirius, to you, and back to Sirius.

Sirius gestured to you like a toned-down Will Smith “behold” meme and shot Remus an subtle “mate, this is the flipping chance you were taking about before your bag ripped on the train” face.

You just sat there awkwardly. Feeling the heat rush to your face every other second the three of you stood there in an undecided pose, you were about to mutter another, “it’s fine, really...” but was cut off by James sprinting back into the room.

He was pretty out of breath from running around the large property. “They’ve just left... I guess they were running late, but they wish everyone a good weekend,” he shot Sirius a very non-innocent grin. Marlene and Mary, stood up, not missing a second of they’re conversation while everyone picked up their bags.

You were a little upset that you never got an answer to the most important question of the weekend, but figured it was going to have to be answered one way or another.

You all followed James up the grand staircase and stopped in a long hallway racked with doors.

“Merlin, James, tell me again why you live in an actual hotel?” Mary laughed. James squeezed in front of her to get to the first door.

“Ha-ha...” he mocked half-heartedly, testing to make sure the door wasn’t locked. “Look, my parents are only letting us use the first five doors for some reason so I had to pair everyone up, sorry.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Oh yeah, and that means two people can have a room to themselves, so whoever wants it can have it.”

From the way he was taking, you assumed whatever his “sleeping arrangements” were, they were very loosely planned.

Alright, alright I think it’s safe to say, no parents; no sexist restrictions...” Sirius stretched his arm out, landing over Mary’s shoulder. Marlene’s arm came around to hit him in the abdomen.

James laughed as he finally got the old knob to open. “Um, I don’t think Mar— Sirius... Why don’t you just sleep with me, and then Lily and Mary and then-”

“I am NOT sleeping with the rat,” Marlene started. Peter started to protest but was cut off by James again.

“Fine! How about Mary and Marlene, Y/n and Remus, and then... wait no-”

“Oh for the love of Merlin...” you sighed, “Sirius and I, Remus and James, Mary and Marlene, and then either Lily or Peter can take the spare room. That way, no one has to share with someone they aren’t comfortable around and I can make sure Sirius don’t accidentally burn anything down.”

Sirius looked mildly offended, but still didn’t mind being able to share a room with a girl for once. You had to mentally tell yourself you were “taking one for the team” because in all honesty, the reason you weren’t with Lily was because Sirius was way more of a safety hazard, and wether she planned on it or not, her and James would need a bit more privacy if they were ever going to work out their blatant and blind emotions.

#remus lupin #sirius black #remus lupin x reader #marauders era fanfiction #fanfiction #harry potter #james potter #marlene mckinnon #mary macdonald #peter pettigrew #lily evans #hogwarts #godrics hollow #padfoot #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #remus x y/n

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bangtanlalaland · 4 years

Text

falcon | jjk 01 (m.)

synopsis ⇣ Jungkook Jeon, known as “Falcon,” unites with his best friend to rebel against the twisted, dominant system of the city, Python, until everything changes when he crosses paths with one of many enemies.

— dystopia au; enemies to lovers au

⇢pairing: free runner!jeon jungkook x detective!female reader ⇢featuring: free runner!park jimin, free runner!kim namjoon, free runner!min yoongi & police captain!jung hoseok

⇢genre: angst, fluff, smut

⇢word count: 12.2k

⇢contents ⨯ warnings: (this fic is totally inspired by mirror’s edge), there’s isn’t any smut in this chapter (but there will be in future chapters), slow burn, some fluff in there, so much dialogue (it’s literally a MOVIE), some violence, some blood, some death, swearing lots of action (oops), fighting, free-running, lots & lots of drama (srsly get your popcorn ready), mentions of premonitions, major plot twists, infidelity (sorta?), mentions of sex, some sope action (yes i said it), namgi is also a thing (oop), basically jungkook is a rebel & proud, jimin is very clever (like woah), namjoon is a leader & sweetheart (as always), yoongi is a bad guy (¿woahhh did we expect that?) hoseok is a fuckboi (i’m sorry ugh :(((), also viper in this story is actually taehyung (oop), police stuff (duh), lots of bi stuff going on here, (much love for the lgbtq community)

artwork poster by: @hellenys

song rec: “falcon” by jaden smith

a/n: woah! so this is yet another wip that I’ve had for so long. I’ve made the decision to make this a series! (or maybe a two-shot) still not 100% sure yet, but I am honestly beyond relieved to finally release this. also a huge thank you to @hellenys for the artwork! I was actually inspired to start writing falcon after seeing her work. (specifically the photo above^) so you guys go check her out, her artwork is amazing!

Smack.

The sound of your boss dropping a chunky stack full of vanilla colored folders onto your desk, in your cubicle, startles your attention from sipping your now third afternoon dose of coffee. You swear he has been on your ass ever since you stepped foot into the clouded atmosphere of the police department. You were convinced you’re in Hell. Literally.

He eagerly spills, “These missing persons reports aren’t going to solve themselves. I can’t even step out for a $5 burger at that fast food shit place down the street without the press breathing down my neck about the citizens’ missing loved ones.”

You sigh for what has been the one thousandth time today so far. Going on one thousand-one. This city has been getting worse as the days go by, missing persons reports dating as far as 10 years back, maybe more if you really dig deep in there. Runners scatter the rooftops of the city, yet you and your entire team were left with zero leads. And your boss was right; the press was constantly nagging like a toddler at the age of two. Yet you and your tiny team were responsible for getting hands dirty and finding answers. And here he goes yet again…

“Contact the victims families. See if there’s any new information they could give us. Just in case. Over time, victims may remember details they happened to leave out- ” The phone for the department rings on your desk, and you hold your index finger up as if to politely ask your boss to shut his damn mouth so you can answer the phone.

“Python Police Department.” Your face grows concerned, mouthing to your boss: “Missing Person.” He throws his hands up and shakes his head in response, waiting for your departure from the phone. The elderly woman seemed borderline upset, but mostly depressed. As if all the life that was once in her was drained completely. After reassuring you will find answers, you hang up and turn to face your boss.

“It was a lady named Mrs. Jeon. She wants to follow up on the case for her son. Jungkook?” You say, more so as a question rather than a statement, in hopes that you pronounced his name correctly. Your boss nods in approval, clearly knowledgeable of who you’re talking about.

“Yeah she calls here at least one or twice a week saying the same thing over and over again,” he pauses momentarily then starts, “I remember that kid. He was in high school when his mother reported him missing,” he continues while shaking his head.

“I’ll never forget the day dispatch called me out there to see what was going on. This was back in my rookie detective days. At first I thought maybe he’s just playing hooky. Happens all the time, right?” You nod in agreement. You’d heard of his name before but never looked into it, considering you’d just been promoted 4 months ago. And for the first month, you’d only been sent to canvas witnesses. Although sadly, Jungkook is simply one among hundreds if not thousands of cases that have gone cold.

He continues, “But then, we checked the grid and his chip was gone. We didn’t get any alerts about its removal, so it was definitely shocking.”

“That doesn’t make sense. What do you mean it was gone?” You ask with crossed arms.

“Well, more like the grid showed that the chips’ location was his home. Obviously, he isn’t home and we searched the house. No chip.” He pauses for a moment as if processing what he’s about to say, “Someway, somehow, he removed himself from the grid. But, he wasn’t the only one.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I reassured Mrs. Jeon that if he didn’t show up in two days then we could file a missing persons report. She insisted that something was wrong and didn’t want to wait two days. But she had no other choice, and so she filed the report and days turned into weeks, months, and years.”

“How long?” You question.

With a sigh he replies, “Five.”

“No wonder she’s calling.”

“I know. But that’s the weirdest thing about it. As I mentioned, Jungkook wasn’t the only one with a missing chip.” He reassures with a sigh of what you assume is exhaustion.

“And?”

Your boss squints his eyes, as if he’s thinking.

“Follow me.”

He leads you to the “Cold Cases” room. It looks almost like a library, but instead of children books it’s several cases from murders to runaways — where endless amounts of evidence, files, reports, and other tangible items are stored. He scrambles through a pull out drawer of folders labeled and sectioned off in alphabetical order. He then pulls out a vanilla folder, and opens the file, revealing a photo of a young teen with dark, brown hair and plump, pink lips.

“Mrs. Park. Mother of Jimin Park. She filed a missing persons report the same day Mrs. Jeon did. They actually came together. And apparently they live on the same street.” He states while exiting the room and striding you into his office.

You inquire, trying to catch up to his quick pace. “So what are you implying?”

“I think…” he trails off, placing the folder on top of his desk and flopping into his office seat. “Jungkook and Jimin decided to drop out of school and run away in the sunset together.”

“And why would you assume that?”

“Well, let’s talk about the runners that run the rooftops. I know you’re still trying to get the hang of things, but there’s a pattern with this.”

“Okay?” You more-so question, rather than stating.

“First things first. Their chips. Runners always remove them, except we get alerts when done so.” He pauses. Of course you’re aware of the misdemeanor charge for that, right?” You nod in a “yes” gesture.

“Good. So, first they remove the chips. Second, they completely vanish. No one sees them for good and has no knowledge of where they are. It’s like they never existed, right? Families, friends, co-workers or whoever they know don’t see them anymore.”

You nod again, catching along. “Mmhmm.”

“Then, a missing persons report is filed. Either by a relative or a close friend. With that being said, it only makes sense that Jungkook and Jimin would be close together at least. I mean surely if Mrs. Park filed a report with Mrs. Jeon then couldn’t they both have known each other? Or at least had some knowledge of the relationship their sons had with one another? And again, the chips. Surely, they were in this together, and there’s not one part of me that doubts it.”

You take a deep sigh, soaking this information in, “Makes sense.”

“Look,” he says, while moving closer to you, stuffing his hands in his pockets. You gaze upon him, admiring the beauty mark on the left side of his top lip. His chocolate waves crown his face.

“What I’m trying to say is- If you find one of them, chances are you’ll find the other. Just… please be careful, ____. If these guys can suddenly vanish off the grid without a trace, who knows what else they’re capable of?”

Meanwhile, Jimin barges into a hideout on a rooftop (now part of an abandoned building) far into the city, but enough distance from prying eyes. He’s panting, out of breath, sweating and bent over as he removes his earpiece, swiping the perspiration from his forehead with the back of his hand. He runs his fingers through his jet, black strands. The sun slightly scorched his once pale cheeks, resulting in a rosy, pink shade.

“Fuck!”

Namjoon removes his headset and arises from his seat in the area that he and his mates have labelled as “coms,” having hacked into the city’s surveillance system.

“Good job, Phoenix. Water?” He asks, while offering Jimin a sip of his bottled water, before downing it completely.

“Fuck, no. I almost fucking died!” Jimin replies, still panting.

“Relax. You’re alive, aren’t you?” Namjoon retorts nonchalantly.

He crushes his plastic bottle and lunges it toward Jungkooks slumped figure over the couch nearby. He grunts in response, jerking up in his sleep. Being on the run for the past 5 years has only caused him to be as alert as a hawk.

“You’re up next, Falcon.” Jungkook shakes his head, gaining consciousness of his surroundings again. His black tank top and white nylon sweats having stuck to his form. His milk, chocolate strands blanket his face as he sits up, rubbing his eyes. The faint sunlight helps to awaken him from his slumber, as he covers his eyes to adjust to the sunrays. Jimin, who now has gained his breath back, flings his earpiece at Jungkook.

“Blue lights are heavy today. Watch your ass, huh?” With that, Jungkook stretches upward while placing the earpiece on. On his way towards the tiny kitchen area, Namjoon keys into the channel.

“Thunderbird for Falcon.” Jungkook gulps his banana milk and returns the carton to its place in the fridge. Wiping his mouth to rid the milk residue, he responds, “Go for Falcon.”

“I’m sure you probably don’t want to hear this. But it’s time for a test run.”

Jungkook is silent, yet internally screaming. He hates test runs. Who doesn’t though?

“I know what you’re thinking. I’ve told you before that one time won’t count. But, I need to calculate your momentum, and it helps tremendously to compare to your previous test runs.” Jungkook wasn’t worried about speed, but more so about his body. The last time he’d done a test run, he had completely passed out from overworking his body. Namjoon couldn’t leave the hideout, given that blue lights were everywhere and he didn’t want to risk not having anyone watching over the place. Luckily Jimin was already out for a run, and decided to take a detour to rescue his best friend. But, Jungkook does not like to fail. In fact, he despises it. He’s afraid that he’d fail. Again. He takes a deep breath.

“I know you can do it. The advantage now is that you actually got rest.” Jungkook couldn’t help but nod in agreement. He knew the last time he was going non-stop and being the stubborn bunny he is, Namjoon warned him more than once that he’d burnout sooner or later. But that’s the conflict with Jungkook. He grew complacent of being on the run constantly. It’s his life now; he hates the society he lives in and refuses to live according to the systems’ standards.

“Copy that, Thunderbird.” Jungkook responds, his arms and hands flexing, veins popping, as he slips on his neon red fingerless gloves. He pulls the straps of his black mask over and behind his ears — completely concealing most of his face.

Namjoon smiles in response, “That’s what I like to hear! Let’s bring that energy to the test, Falcon.”

Back at the station, you step out of your formal addression towards your boss and slip, “Hobi, I’ll be fine.”

“I know, I just can’t see myself losing you. You know how much you mean to me, right?” He asks, while reaching his hand towards your cheek with the intent to caress you but your reflexes immediately catch on, and you turn the opposite direction while muttering under your breath, “You know that we can’t-”

“I know. Sorry.”

A brief moment of silence shares the space between you both. Hoseok Jung, or as your recent pet name for him: Hobi, is not only the police captain of the Python Police Department, but currently your main squeeze as well. At least, that’s what you’d like to think. You can’t quite pinpoint what “this” with him is, given that neither of you made it official yet or set any boundaries. Which resulted in this continuous cycle of confusion on where you stand in this said “situationship.” But you don’t probe him, instead you just go with the flow and see where things lead. The only major conflict is that no one at the station should know about your doings. Or else there would be major consequences to face. You suppose that’s why Hoseok is the way he is with you. Maybe you’re nothing but a fling to him. Although some of the things he says deem otherwise.

“Last I heard, his street name is Falcon.” Hoseok skims through a folder on his desk that contains numerous papers, all to what you assumed held important information, then he pulls one out.

“I have a list of coordinates for locations where security cameras are installed and picked up high runner activity. Check those out and see if there are any leads. If no luck, go out and canvas witnesses on the street.” You nod in agreement, gathering your belongings to head on your way when suddenly you feel Hoseok’s grasp on your wrist. You immediately turn your gaze towards him, eyes blown wide as saucers.

“Please, be careful. Call me when you make it to the first and last location.” You eye his grip on you and snatch away quickly, regaining your composure.

“I will,” you respond, while slipping out of his office to leave the building.

On the rooftops, Jungkook gets into position. Staring ahead of himself, he takes a deep breath, awaiting Namjoon’s marker. A tiny droplet of sweat drips down the right side of his face, trailing down to his neck.

“On your mark. Ready.” Jungkook takes another deep breath. The sun suddenly becomes beyond its warm state, at this point, it’s scorching. His palms are damp. The black of his tee absorbs the city’s heat.

“Set.”

His mind goes racing in a million different ways. It was strange that at this moment, his mother crosses his mind. He wondered if she was okay. But, he couldn’t risk seeing her. Exposing himself. Then blue lights would find out, and he’d be done. For good.

No, can’t risk it. No matter how much it hurts.

Since the age of 18, Jungkook called the rooftops his home. Some part of him felt selfish for only thinking of himself and leaving his mother behind. But he knew she would only scold him for rebelling against the system. Therefore, it was imperative that he left. For months, he and Jimin elaborated an escape — consistently backtracking and fixing any errors in their plan.

Unfortunately, plans don’t always go as planned and being just a couple of high school kids, Jungkook and Jimin hadn’t fully thought out the whole “where would we bunk” deal. But, all changed when they reached the rooftops. Although the first two years were literal Hell. Probably part of the reason Jungkook had become too exhausted at the end of it all. It was horrid to run non-stop, stability not being an option. Jungkook and Jimin had several quarrels with other runners. It became a cycle that Jungkook grew weary of:

Getting accepted into a hideout → Developing trust with other runners → Everything feels comfortable now → Someone does something to show their true colors (Runners are out to get each other, despite the consequences. Whether the reward is for money, power, or maybe even freedom) → Jungkook and Jimin realize they can’t trust other runners → In conclusion, they flee → The process repeats

That is, until they met Namjoon. At first, he resisted. He previously had one roommate before that betrayed him, just as other runners betrayed Jimin and Jungkook. He thinks of him sometimes, and he’ll never forget his name. Yoongi Min, who goes by Firebird. Blue lights offered Yoongi a deal: to persuade Namjoon into a trap, at a disclosed location, in return for clearing his own name of all criminal records — freedom. Yoongi had been Namjoon’s roommate for four years, eventually growing close and becoming trustworthy of one another. Even coining each other’s names together, as a team. He always thought he’d take over the city of Python with Yoongi. Thus, that’s why Namjoon took Jungkook and Jimin in; because he saw them as himself and Yoongi, knowing that he would have wanted someone else to do the same for him and his once good friend.

“Go.” And with that, Jungkook powers forward leading with one goal in mind: Fast.

“I want you to head straight as far as you can. Got it?”

“Copy,” Jungkook slips. He starts at a steady pace, sliding under pipes connected to cooling fan systems, and vaulting over fences being sure to avoid high voltage ones. However, his velocity decreases when doing so. Namjoon takes note of that.

“Try to keep a linear direction as much as possible. Jump to the next building, using the metal pipe as a pole.”

Jungkook makes an estimate on how fast he should run to land onto the pole that’s adjacent to the rooftop of the building he’s currently on. He backs away about two meters and plants his feet on the ground, getting into position. His body exerts force and within seconds, Jungkook leaps from the rooftop. His heart dropping to his stomach, silently praying that his calculations were correct; and within seconds he lands onto the metal pole, his toned biceps clinging on for life. The leather gloves he wears grant a better grip on the surface, as he pulls himself upward, finally reaching the rooftop.

“Good job, Falcon. Keep pushing!”

Jungkook heaves, but knows he can’t stop now. He continues to scan his surroundings, taking in the view of the city from his vantage point. The sun still beams within the distance. Glass buildings towering the city, camera drones and lightweight super-jets scattering the sky.

No time for distractions.

Jungkook continues on his path as instructed by Namjoon. Lightly jogging, he rapidly picks up his pace until he takes a quick glance to his right and something catches his eye: a security camera, hanging below a billboard on the current building he stands on. He treads forward, and notices a blue light on the camera that blinks rapidly. He sticks his middle finger up towards the object and makes a swift turn to walk away when suddenly he stops dead in his tracks.

You push open the door to the rooftop access, finally having reached the top of the corporate office building of Cobra Enterprises, the biggest conglomerate in the city. To your surprise, on your left, there stands a man with doe-like eyes and lengthy, coffee-colored strands concealing his face. Your mouth flew agape, realizing that this is your first encounter ever with a runner — his neon red gloves serving as evidence.

“Falcon, what’s going on? I’m picking up a blue light within your perimeter,” Namjoon keys in. Jungkook says nothing, simply eyeing your form. He’d never been in love, and it wasn’t as if he’d recognize love even if it were standing right in front of his face with a big sign that said: “Hey! It’s me. I am love.” It was your essence that gave him an odd feeling. A feeling that intrigued him for some strange reason. But then you flashed that shiny PPD badge, which glistened in the sun, and it caught his attention — instantly sending a wave of discouragement throughout his heart.

“I’m Detective ____ with PPD,” you slip.

“Abort the test run! Get the hell out of there!” Namjoon commands on the other end of Jungkook’s earpiece. You attempt to step closer to the man, but he raises his hand up.

“Don’t come any closer.”

You shake your head, “It’s okay. I-I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to talk, okay?” You reassure while gradually lifting your hands up in the air, as if surrendering to him. He scoffs, obviously not impressed by your coy tactic.

“A blue light wanting to talk? Nah, don’t think so,” he spits while clenching his fists and backing away.

“No, please! I-I-” You suddenly become tongue-tied, as the man evidently runs away out of your sight, leaving you behind. Frozen in place.

That asshole.

Your cell rings conveniently at the right moment.

— Hobi ❤️ [Incoming Call]

You swipe to answer, and can’t even get a “hello” out before Hoseok starts on his shit again.

“Goddammit, ____! I told you to call me when you got to your first location.” He sounds furious, as if you’re his pet on a leash.

“Okay, dad!” You retort, clearly annoyed with him in this moment as you make your way down the exhausting flight of stairs inside the building.

“You know what-” Hoseok runs his fingers through his waves. “My place. 30 minutes.” The sound of a click on the line indicates that he hung up, leaving you with a frustrated temper.

Jungkook storms into the hideout, snatching his mask off of his face. Namjoon rips his headset off, visibly pissed.

“You wanna tell me what the hell happened back there?”

Jungkook scoffs, currently not up for anyone’s shit, as he trails to the fridge to grab his carton of banana milk yet again. Namjoon rolls his eyes while shaking his head. Jungkook releases his lips from the carton and slips, “Nothing.”

The sound of Namjoon’s tongue clicking echoes through the space, “Bullshit! You know our code, and you did NOT follow!”

With his back, turned Jungkook takes a deep huff, cheeks on fire. Jimin silently creeps nearby and coyly chimes in,

“See a blue light, call it a night. Don’t take flight, and you’ll put up a fight.”

“That’s right, Phoenix. We do NOT stick around once a blue light is within our sight. We take flight. Is that understood?” Namjoon probes with a stern tone, directing towards Jungkook.

The youngest turns face forward, with a clenched jaw and jutted chest. He says nothing, clearly testing the eldest. Namjoon steps forward and closes the gap between one another, so close that their noses nearly touch.

“Is that understood?” He inquires, his voice a few octaves lower. Jungkook pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue before breaking.

“Copy.”

“Get your shit together, Falcon. We’ll pick this up tomorrow.” Namjoon pulls away and brushes past Jimin, heading out of the kitchen. Infuriated, Jungkook lunges the now empty carton toward the wall ahead of him and also brushes past Jimin, who grasps his wrist in time to halt him. A look of worry spreads across Jimin’s face.

“Come on, Kook. You know Thunderbird. He’s just trying to protect us. It’s like… his job.”

Jungkook stays silent, thinking if he would ever get to see your innocent face again. Jimin nudges his arm to grasp his attention.

“You do know that you can talk to me, right?” He reassures with a promising expression. Jungkook simply nods and walks away, leaving Jimin worried. He knows when something is wrong with his best friend. He can feel it. But he also knows that Jungkook is a tough cookie, and it will take time for him to finally crack.

Meanwhile, Jungkook locks himself in his room — having confined himself completely from the world even if it was just for a few hours. How could he be so stupid? Why couldn’t he just talk to you like you wanted? Maybe you were a good person. At least that’s what he assumed, considering your beautiful face.

No. Snap out of it!

He can’t trust anyone. It’s for his own good. As the sun sets, he peeks through the glass window in his room to soak in the view of the city. Streams of pink, yellow, and blue paint the evening sky. If only he’d introduced himself to you, maybe he would feel a slight less pain in his chest. It was something Jungkook craved that he’d never gotten yet.

Intimacy.

Hoseok is frustrated; he runs his fingers through his hair for what has felt like the millionth time today.

“What’s gotten into you, huh?” He asks with a dark, lustful feel in his eyes. You gaze at him in complete silence.

“Can’t obey me anymore or what?” He lets out a frustrated sigh while gripping your hips.

“Oh you’re asking for it, huh?” He coos while mustering up the idea to tickle his way into getting a response from you. You break the silence, the sound of your laughter filling up his penthouse. Giggles and gasps for breaths emit from you, a sound that Hoseok thinks he could hear for the rest of his life and never grow tired.

“Oh my-! S-stop!”

And like a light-switch, he abruptly stops. His hands falling down to your sides, gripping your hips again. He gazes into your stare for what feels like an eternity. That familiar beauty mark on his lip is your favorite sight. He notes your eyes landing on his lips for too long, and he takes the opportunity to inch forward and meet yours.

He tastes like coffee — the kind you have in the morning before heading out to the station. The kind you’re used to sipping while reading emails at work or making phone calls. Or even the kind you order from your favorite coffee shop where you first met him and continue to meet up with him there to discuss anything work related.

Your lips soften against his, as his softens against yours. You’re not even sure how that is possible. Physics? Maybe.

However, the thought of your relationship with Hoseok crosses your mind. And before you could even think twice about what to do, with his tongue literally down your throat, you unexpectedly shove him lightly. His eyebrows furrow in response, concerned if he’d done something wrong (when he could swear you like french kissing, considering you both do it all the time, and he remembered you mentioned one moment how much you like to do so).

“What are we? What is this?” You blurt out. Hoseok’s expression makes you instantly regret asking him. He pulls himself away from you completely to pace back and forth with his hand on his hip, shaking his head. Your gaze drops to the floor, feeling like such shit for bringing it up. But you’d be damned if he made you feel bad, because you have to know. For your own sake. Your own sanity.

“Are we really doing this right now?” He asks while sitting down on the leather loveseat.

That’s it. Something in you snaps.

“Hoseok!” You screech, gaining a wide-eyed stare from him.

“We’ve been fucking for over 2 years! What did you think? That I was just going to keep floating around, letting you stuff me every fucking week and not say anything about it?”

You are a panting, hot, and frustrated mess on the verge of tears from how upset you are. Hoseok watches your riled up figure, and he can’t seem to bring words together. He’s had a long day and wants nothing more than to release his stress into you either on his bed, or this loveseat, or maybe the kitchen counter if you can’t make it to his bedroom. But your emotions are clouding the atmosphere, and it’s something he can’t handle.

“I don’t know what you expect me to say,” he states dryly.

You felt like someone just hammered a nail into your heart. Your mouth flies agape, sucking in a breath to contain yourself from crying in front of his eyes.

“Why can’t we just fuck and not go through all of this? What do we need a label for anyway? It’s not like anyone at the station is going to find out.” He shrugs, emitting a chuckle paired with a nonchalant vibe.

Drip.

And then a tear fell down your cheek, prompting yourself to march out the front door and never look back. Clutching your crossbody, your leather chelsea boots click against the hardwood floor. Before Hoseok had the chance to grab you by the wrist, you were gone. You continued strutting down the hall, better yet lightly jogging to get as far away as possible as quickly as possible. Your fingers find placement on the ↓ button for the elevator.

Ding.

The moment the elevator doors shut is when the tears came streaming down your cheeks, like a waterfall. You knew all along it was a bad idea to get involved with Hoseok. You’re sentimental and have always been so. “Catching feelings” while having weekly sex with him was bound to happen eventually. All in all, you could say that you saw the end coming, but at least 70% of you wanted things to be different than what they were. As your mother would call it, “living in la la land.” For the remainder of the night, you comfort yourself on your couch, stuffing your face with leftover chocolate-covered strawberries and sipping champagne. All while venting on the phone to your childhood friend and updating him on the current situation with Hoseok.

“Ah. I’m sorry, noona. Hobi is a real ass sometimes, you know?”

You take another sip from your wine glass, “Ugh. That’s the thing!” You pause, popping a strawberry in your mouth, “I knew it. And yet, I still fell for him. I’m just horrible, a mess.”

“Don’t say that,” he replies with a yawn following his response.

“It’s true, Yoongi! I’ve literally been letting him in this whole time and not standing my ground. It’s so pathetic of me,” You sigh with a frown upon your face that Yoongi obviously cannot see.

“Wow. He was that good, huh?” You roll your eyes just thinking about it, “Ugh, yes! Don’t even remind me!”

“Well-” yet another yawn cutting him off again, “Just take your time, you know? I’m sure it won’t be that easy to get over him. But eventually, it’ll happen.” Your eyes begin to tear up again, “You really think so?”

Yoongi hesitates for a brief moment, “No, I’m just trying to get you off the phone so I can go to sleep.”

“Fuck you, Yoongi Min.” His cute giggle lifts your mood in a contagious way — making you laugh out loud along with him.

“You’ll be fine, ____. Really.” A tear finally drops down your face. This is why you love Yoongi, and why you’d been friends with him almost your entire life. He’s someone you can trust, always having been there for you. It didn’t matter the distance you were from each other, or how long it had been since you contacted one another, you both would pick up right where you left off.

“Goodnight, Yoongs. Love you.” His gummy smile appears as he replies, “Love you too, ____. Goodnight.”

After hanging up with Yoongi and having your belly full enough of strawberries and wine, your thoughts continuously play over the events of today, making you realize how drained you are. Then the image of the runner from earlier crosses your mind. God, was he the hottest man you’ve seen in awhile, at least from what you could see due to his mask covering most of his face. But his lengthy strands paired with his toned biceps and tall, lean figure are what got you. The sun bounced perfectly on his tanned, body, displaying a gorgeous shimmer of sweat he was drenched in, kind of reminded you of your fave Krispy Kreme glazed doughnuts.

His eyes were bright and beautiful, and you’ll never forget the way he was startled when you approached him — like a deer in headlights. You wonder what else was “hot” about him that you didn’t get a chance to see. Okay, maybe it’s just the wine talking. Some part of you wished you could have at least asked what his name was, but he wasted no time in evading you. Even though you felt a slight sting in your heart, you couldn’t blame him for leaving. After all, you’re a cop and he’s a runner. Of course he’d “run” from you.

Hoseok is sound asleep until an alarming tone from his cell phone startles him from his slumber.

— Yoongi Hyung [Incoming Call]

“Shit.” Hoseok lets out a frustrated sigh before answering. His tired, raspy voice is heard from the other side of the line. “Hyung, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know you tell me.” Yoongi deadpans.

Hoseok sighs in response. Pulling away from his phone to read the time: 12:42 AM. He clenches his fist and runs his fingers through his messy mane.

“What do you want, Yoongi?”

“I need you to look into someone for me. Get ____ on the case,” Yoongi demands with a slight hint of desperation.

Seething, Hoseok retorts, “Fucking hell. Why couldn’t you wait until the morning to tell me?”

“It is morning, and before you step into the station I need to make sure it’s the first thing on your agenda. I need this done asap.”

Hoseok remains his composure on the outside but is internally screaming.

“I don’t know, Hyung. I can’t guarantee it. I have ____ on the Jungkook Jeon case, and I may have her finally close it. Hopefully-” Yoongi scoffs, on the other side, clearly not happy.

Hoseok adds, “What’s this all about anyway? And what do I get for it?”

“Did you forget who’s the eldest here?” A moment of silence falls into the phone.

“Didn’t think so,” Yoongi continues. Hoseok feels small. He always does when being confronted by Yoongi.

“I’ve cut a deal with Cobra Enterprises. The company will have a meeting tomorrow with PPD about a new project to take place. I want you to look into a guy. I’m sure you remember him. Namjoon Kim.” The youngest sighs yet again. He remembered Namjoon from his rookie days, and he also recalled Yoongi had failed to go through with the set-up.

“Press ____ to look into his file and continue there. Drop her from the Jungkook Jeon case.” Hoseok’s mouth flies open in shock at Yoongi’s request.

“Are you fucking kidding me? How the hell am I supposed to-”

“Do not try me! Now, you’ll do as I say without giving me any shit, understand?” Yoongi retorts, his voice now at a higher volume than before. His deep violet-haired, skinny stature dressed in a purple v-neck, paired with a black leather jacket and leather jeans. He paces back and forth, flipping a pen between his slender fingers. The visible ink of his black, circuit board tattoo trails from his neck down to his right shoulder and ends at his wrist.

“Yes, Hyung,” Hoseok states, his voice barely above a whisper now.

“Get her on the case for Namjoon and find out where he is! Tell her he goes by the name Thunderbird. These rooftops are massive. Viper and I cannot find him alone. Having her would help tremendously. Besides… she’s smart, and I’m sure she’d be able to get to him before I do,” he continues while staring at the view of the city from his hideout.

Hoseok lets out with a tinge of annoyance in his reply, “Fine, fine. Alright!”

“Don’t do this, and I will tell ____ about our little secret. I’m sure she wouldn’t be too happy about that either. Especially not now.”

“You better not say shit to her, you hear me?” Hoseok works up.

“Get the job done, Hobi.” Yoongi ends the call.

No, you could not find out. At least not like that. Hoseok doesn’t want you to know about the little fling with his hyung. He knows Yoongi would do anything to destroy the side thing Hoseok has with you, since he’s jealous. He wants Hoseok all to himself.

The ringing of your cell frightens you out of your sleep. Your eyes land onto your clock placed beside you on your nightstand. You silently curse whoever dares to awaken you at this ungodly hour of 3:18 AM. Surely it was none other than Hoseok Jung. You dared to not answer, but part of you needed to if you wanted to keep your job. You were slightly worried his calling may be job-related anyway. At least you hope it is, because you can’t think about how he’d hurt you the previous day. Your exhausted form answers the call with a swipe.

“Hello?”

“I’m here.” Your eyebrows furrow as you scan your bedroom in the moonlight. Your right hand finds it’s way to rub your eyes.

“What?”

“Just open the door. I’m here.”

You stay on the line, and groggily drag yourself out of bed to head beeline for the front door of your apartment. Through the peephole, there stands Hoseok with his iPhone to his ear and his head hanging low. You unlock the door and tiredly pull it open to finally meet eyes with the bastard. Yesterday’s events flash through your memory, and you’re drawn back into the mood you were in before you knocked out for what seemed like only ten minutes.

With furrowed brows you question, “Hoseok what do y-”

His lips crash with yours, cutting you off completely. Your hand that once held your phone, now wraps around his neck, easing him closer to you. His firm hands now grip your hips, flushing you to his body entirely. His plushy lips play with yours, naturally gliding and smoothing against their own accord. The bitter taste of coffee lingers on his lips, to what you assumed he more than likely had a cup of Joe before arriving to your apartment. He breaks the kiss to stare into your eyes, caressing your cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that to you,” he pauses for a beat, “It was wrong. I was wrong.”

A low sigh escapes your lips. Hoseok cups your cheeks, and gives you a small peck. You pull away to take hold of his hand and lead him into your apartment, closing the door behind the two of you. You find yourself sitting on the side of your bed, with Hoseok joining you. He rests his cool palm on your warm, exposed thigh, courtesy of your pajama shorts. Your fingers find placement on top of his hand. He stares into your gaze, guilt settling deep within his gut. Part of the reason he’d always treated you like nothing is due to his feelings for Yoongi. He likes this thing with you: being able to have you whenever he wants, do whatever he wants to you, and treat you how he wants.

It’s almost like he owns you, except he doesn’t. But he likes the complacency of the situation, knowing that you’ll always be there when he needs you. Yet he knows it’s selfish and such a narcissistic quality about himself, but he wants what he wants and cannot stop his actions. It’s this never-ending dilemma he’s stuck in of leading you on or admitting his feelings for you. Because all in all, Hoseok wants to “have his cake and eat it too.” On the other hand, Yoongi stands on the sidelines — waiting for the day he & Hoseok could be together. And now it’s worse since you’ve poured your feelings out to him. Although for Yoongi, it’s everything he’s ever wished for.

The luminance from the moonlight glows throughout the space that’s your room. Hoseok shivers slightly from your touch, the warmth of your fingers encases his cold, slender ones. You both sit in silence for a moment, just taking in each others presence. You attempt to gather your own thoughts of why Hoseok couldn’t wait to apologize until the next day you both work.

“Hoseok.” You let out, a yawn following afterwards.

“Hm?” He responds while glancing into your eyes with those gorgeous brown eyes, his strands gracefully dressing his forehead in that familiar middle-part style.

“Cuddle?” You ask sheepishly why reaching your arms out towards him, offering your warmest embrace. His lips curl up into that stunning smile, making his eyes shut instinctively. He removes his bomber jacket and shoes, then climbs into the opposite side of your bed. You follow suit and pull your duvet over the two of you. Your arms naturally wrap around his abdomen, and you curl up into his chest. Admiring the familiar scent of Hoseok’s fresh, linen garments with a hint of some expensive cologne. He smells so clean, as a man should. It sends you into a trance. Your ear rests on top of his chest, growing familiar with the rhythm of his heartbeat. And it’s just enough to put you to rest.

—

The sun peaks from the skyline, beginning its journey to rise. Deep orange and yellow hues paint the sky. A gleaming ray of light shoots throughout the hideout the three men share together. Namjoon is the first to awaken, his beach-sand colored hair ruffled in a slight mess. With a bare upper body and boxer briefs, he slips from his mattress on the ground to head for the washroom — his disheveled state still working to fully awaken. After finishing up his morning routine of brushing his teeth, washing his face, and grooming his hair, he slips on black nylon sweatpants and a red fitted tank, displaying his black, circuit board ink on his left forearm snaking up to his left shoulder and neck. He stares at his own figure in the mirror, silently hating himself for letting Yoongi talk him into getting a matching tattoo.

If only he’d knew where Yoongi’s loyalty really lied, he’d never would have given in to him. A slight pang in Namjoon’s chest resurfaces. He missed Yoongi, a lot more than he wanted to. Because it was more than “friendship” with him. He loved Yoongi and wanted to confess his feelings for him, but he was afraid his confession would lead to corruption of their friendship. He was also afraid of Yoongi’s “distant” personality. He was for sure it would have ruined them, even if their friendship blossomed into something more. Unfortunately, after Yoongi became a traitor in Namjoon’s eyes, he couldn’t stop the feelings he had for him and continues to have. It was ever since that one night they’d both had a little too much soju that things led from one thing to another. He relishes in the memory of Yoongi’s lips pressed against his.

The lingering, sweet taste of alcohol on his lips is the fondest moment Namjoon has of Yoongi. He had never been more aroused by anyone else ever, and Yoongi had just that effect on him. One thing led to another, and before he could process what had happened, the next morning he’d awaken to the sight of Yoongi naked and wrapped around his chest. Ever since, the entire dynamic of their friendship had changed. Yoongi hadn’t spoken of the previous night, and neither had Namjoon. He’d never thought that a week later, he would have had no other choice but to kick out the one person he had grown to trust for so long. He never forgets the look in Yoongi’s eyes. Puffy, red, and swollen from the tears he’d cried.

Namjoon had never seen him this shaken up before, considering his inability to show his feelings. But he believed Yoongi had done all of this to silently punish him for sleeping with him. Liquid forms in Namjoon’s eyes as his mind goes in circles consistently, playing the events over and over in his mind — reminiscing on the presence of who he thought would have eventually been his lover. While brewing a cup of coffee, Namjoon readies himself for the day. Upon arrival to the coms room, he seats himself at his desk, an arrange of five monitors on display. The longer one in the middle is the portal to log into Thunder, a tracking software he’d created, with Yoongi, that’s designed specifically to pinpoint a runners’ location. Of course, he had re-programmed said software to track Jungkook and Jimin’s location whenever they’d go out on a run, which is why they use an earpiece that has a tracker installed.

For safety purposes, he’d also designed it to detect when other runners are nearby while also detecting blue lights in the surrounding area. Each runner is part of a team that is represented by a color on the “rainbow spectrum,” and each color has a leader. Namjoon being the leader of Red, and along with Jimin and Jungkook representing the color. Although, the only colors from the spectrum that have been confirmed are: Orange, Yellow, and Green — while Blue and Violet have yet to be discovered. In the meantime, Jimin tosses in his sleep as though he’s experiencing a nightmare. Something within his slumber startling enough to jerk him awake, his eyes blown wide and his lips parted dramatically. His chest rising up and down as he trails his fingers through his onyx strands that fall back onto his forehead. His arms find their way up to block the sunlight from his window that forces to blind his eyes.

His body is warm, and after sitting up completely, he realizes his white tank is soaked in perspiration. Jimin snarks at the cold sweat clinging to his upper body. Rolling out of bed, the cool tile below him makes his body shiver. He pulls his top over his head and off, flinging it to the corner of his room. His toned upper body glistens with sweat, covered with the tattoo “Nevermind” on the left side of his abdomen. Jimin rushes to the washroom to start up the glass shower.

He hops in immediately; cool streams of water race down his fit figure, drenching his black strands and gradually decreasing his body temperature. He runs his index finger across the inside of his wrist where another tattoo is displayed: 13. A small grin crosses his face, thinking of the time he’d met Jungkook when he was 13, how they’d instantly bonded, and how far they’ve come in their lives. The number also resembling the day of his own birth. But Jimin’s smile fades, after realizing the dream he had. He knew something was wrong, because for weeks now he’d been having these nightmares that something bad would happen; everything would change, yet he wasn’t 100% sure how. Even though things were okay now, but he couldn’t help the thought that maybe his gut instinct was trying to warn him.

Knock x2.

Jimin jumps slightly at the sudden knock, and his gaze snaps up to the bathroom door, “Dude… Gotta pee,” Jungkook’s tired form slips. Outside the door, he can barely keep his eyes open — having almost pulled an all-nighter, listening to music and lifting weights in his room. Jimin swings the door open, with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Scared the shit out of me, you know?” Namjoon arrives in the hallway.

“Morning, boys! We’ve got a long day ahead of us. So, get some breakfast and meet me in the coms room when you’re done.” Jimin nods and adds coyly, “Ay ay, captain!” Jungkook groans in response. On the other side of the city, the smell of eggs and bacon sizzling in a pan acts as a cue for Hoseok’s awakening. His arms stretch out, releasing the tension that’s settled in them. He checks his phone for the time only to find missed calls and texts, from none other than his hyung.

— Yoongi Hyung [5:02 AM] just wait till u come home. u will fucking get it!!!

— Yoongi Hyung [4:59 AM] are u fucking kidding me… i come here for dick and this is what i get? where tf are u???

— Yoongi Hyung [4:57 AM] whatever. coming in with the spare key u gave me.

— Yoongi Hyung [4:56 AM] u ass. i’ve rung the doorbell a thousand times already. are u that asleep?

— Yoongi Hyung [4:54 AM] Missed Call (x2)

Shit.

“Good morning sleepy head!” Hoseok jumps slightly at your cheeky greeting of you standing at the doorway of your room.

“I made breakfast if you’re hungry. I’ll be heading out in a few to follow up on any leads I can get with the Jungkook Jeon case.” Hoseok takes a huge gulp before spilling, “Yeah… About that.” He drags, while slipping out of bed. His hands find purchase on your waist, pulling you closer.

“I uh-” He pauses for a moment, remembering the threat Yoongi had given him. You stand there, all eyes on him, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m dropping you from the Jungkook Jeon case,” he states rapidly. Your eyebrows furrow, “Why would you do that?” Hoseok sighs, thinking of anything off the top of his head to lie.

“Just- Leave it to me. I did some digging when you left the station yesterday,” He continues while slipping his shoes on.

“I want you to look into something else,” You nod for him continue.

“Namjoon Kim. Known as Thunderbird. He’s got a record, but he’s also been reported as missing just like Jungkook.” Hoseok breaks away from your gaze for a moment, internally hating himself for doing this to you. He knows he’s no good for you.

“Do you still have that list of coordinates I gave you?” He inquires, while simultaneously looking up at you and tying his shoes.

“Mmmhmm,” you simply mutter, watching his form in silence. It is clear that he’s about to leave but you waited for him to say so. Hoseok grabs his jacket and notices you’re still standing in the doorway. He pauses to slip, “I should get going. I have some errands to run-”

“It’s fine.” You cut him off, the tone in your voice clearly revealing that no it is not “fine.” You’re slightly upset really, but part of you expected Hoseok to not stay around since you’re convinced that the only reason he’d came to apologize to you was to clear his conscious. And because, well, he was alone and wanted some form of companionship. Typical, right? Another part of you cringed at the thought you assumed he’d treat you as if you’re both together, even though you’re not. So, it isn’t abnormal for him to just leave. It’s not like he’s committed to you. Except your heart tells you it’s just not fair. Hoseok doesn’t miss the look of disarray that spreads across your face, due to his departure. He looks to you before leaving your apartment.

“Maybe I can come by later?” You internally cringe at his request whilst trying to not get your hopes up.

“It’s not a big deal, only if you can! Don’t go out of your way for me. Besides, I’m sure you’re busy.” He hesitates for a brief moment, then awkwardly nods as if slowly trying to process what you said. A feeling deep inside tells him that you know he’s full of shit. Maybe it’s his guilty conscious, but that makes him feel even worse for leaving you on his off day, just to be with Yoongi. The instant you shut the door behind Hoseok, your heart broke. You want to regret getting into this thing with him, but you know it was something you wanted at one point.

Jungkook attired himself in his usual pieces. Black ink tattoos of an “X” covers just below both of his elbows. His signature three, silver hoops dangle within both of his ears, as he deliberately munches on a protein bar, while standing in the coms room.

“I specifically asked you both to come once you were DONE with breakfast,” Namjoon retorts indirectly towards Jungkook, who is undoubtedly dropping crumbs on the ground.

“Hey, don’t look at me.” Jimin throws his hands up and shakes his head as if to surrender, his jet-black strands swaying about in front of his eyes.

“As I was saying…” Namjoon continues, “I have different tasks for you both.” Jungkook’s eyes stay glued on the eldest. Jimin’s toned arms are crossed, tilting his head to the side.

“Phoenix,” Namjoon tosses a wireless earpiece to Jimin. “I want you to head over to the docks. I’ve been picking up high blue light activity lately in that area.” Namjoon gropes his chin, as if in deep thought. “Check it out and see if there’s anything you could find that’ll tell us why they’ve been so trigger happy lately.”

Jungkook abruptly stops chewing and tunes out after hearing Namjoon’s request. That is why he felt different about you. You didn’t hurt him like most blue lights would hurt runners if they’d ever been caught. That’s the difference.

“Falcon!”

The slight ringing in Jungkook’s ears immensely fades away after he realizes Namjoon is talking to him. His eyebrows rise up, as if silently asking him What? Namjoon removes a black messenger bag he has around himself and tosses it to Jungkook, who almost didn’t catch it due to the crumpled granola wrapper still in his hand and Namjoon’s sudden reflexes.

“Since your little encounter” Namjoon makes the quotation marks gesture with his fingers. “I’m sending you on a fast cash mission. You know the rules.”

Namjoon quirks his eyebrows, as if to emphasize his point. “I’ll be guiding you, but keep your eyes peeled. Your name isn’t Falcon for nothing.” Jungkook shrugs at the audacity.

“When you reach the location, there will be a runner by the name of Viper waiting there for you. Give him the bag, and safely return back to the hideout without being detected by any blue lights.”

“Copy that.”

Namjoon nods in response, “Oh. Before I forget.” Namjoon reaches toward his glass desk to pull out a black, wireless earpiece.

“I know you’ve been borrowing Jimin’s earpiece since yours broke. So, I made a new one.” Namjoon extends his hand out to Jungkook then snaps away.

“Try not to break it this time, huh? Materials are kind of… limited.”

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow and obtains the piece to delicately place in his ear. He places the bag over his head and lets the strap rest on his shoulder, adjusting it to his liking — making sure it’s tight around his torso. Jimin follows and pushes his earpiece in.

Namjoon makes an overly-dramatic clap noise with his hands. “Alright, boys. Let’s get to work!” On their way from the hideout, Jimin stops Jungkook before they proceed to go on their separate ways.

“Hey,” Jimin spills, his eyes now crescent, moon-shaped due to the sizzling sun displayed brightly in the sky. Jungkook replies, “Yeah?”

“Just, uh…” Jimin lingers on for a moment, observing the ambience as if he’s searching for something. His eyes land back on the youngest, admiring how innocent he is. Jimin loved Jungkook as his own brother, and he’d do anything to protect him. He’s convinced he’d do more than Namjoon.

“Be careful. Okay?” A tinge of worry oozes from Jimin’s command. He wishes he could just tell Jungkook the dreams he’d been having lately, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to upset him, yet he knows he’d have to tell him sooner or later. Because recurring nightmares that Jimin has are always to some extent: true. It’s been that way for as long as he could remember. The first time he’d experienced it was when he was seven years old. He dreamt the same dream during that time, that his father was caught in a rainstorm and passed away due to a car collision.

The first night he experienced the nightmare, he was afraid; and although he’d warn his parents, all else failed. They thought it was just another bad dream that would pass. A few weeks later, his father passed away due to a DUI car accident. Jimin was devastated, and although he was right all along, he hated when the same dreams occurred because he knew eventually it would no longer be a nightmare — instead a reality.

“Always,” Jungkook answers, while turning around to jog in the opposite direction. Completely unaware of Jimin who’s still left behind and laying eyes on him. An ounce of worry overtakes him, that he misses Namjoon’s calling of his name.

“Phoenix, do you copy?” Jimin snaps back from his daydream,

“Y-yeah. I mean- Copy that. I’m here.” Namjoon keeps track of Jungkook’s location and notices Jimin’s stillness.

“Alright, let’s head west and take it from there. It’s a straight shot.” Jimin starts his run, climbing over fences, sliding under pipes, and running on walls. Namjoon uses the digital map to pinpoint the intended location.

“Looks like the docks will be on the west side of the Cobra Enterprises building.

“Copy that.” Namjoon takes a sip of his now lukewarm, medium, roast coffee.

“Switching to channel two, be right back.” Jungkook sits on the edge of a building, looking below his feet where the grand city of Python seems so tiny. Pedestrians look like ants from his perspective. Moving vehicles give the appearance of toy cars kids play with. The sound of a deep voice keys into Jungkook’s earpiece.

“Thunderbird for Falcon.” Jungkook swings his feet playfully, enjoying the summer weather, “Go for Falcon.”

“You’ll be heading east to The Echidna. Viper will be there waiting for you. Deliver the package to him, and make it back safely. Remember, no blue lights.”

Hoseok turns the key to open the door of his apartment. The sound of the front door closing startles a naked Yoongi, who steps foot into Hoseok’s room with a towel wrapped around him. His soaked, purple strands dripping with water. Hoseok shuffles his jacket and shoes off, yet notices the penthouse is filled with silence. He’d hoped Yoongi had just given up for now and left, but he knew him. He wasn’t going to leave until he got what he wanted.

His fingers glide through his own soft waves, and he treads upstairs to his room. His heart suddenly pumps faster when his eyes land on the back side of Yoongi, who has removed his towel to dry his hair. His pale, porcelain skin glowing and glistening with water and sunshine. Hoseok takes a thick gulp and clears his throat. Yoongi finds Hoseok behind him and gives his signature smirk, “Good morning.” Yoongi drops his towel on the ground and gestures a “come here” motion with his finger, and Hoseok follows.

“Missed me? I know I missed you,” Yoongi caresses Hoseok’s cheek, gazing into his brown irises, his bed-hair adding a nice final touch.

“I’m sorry, I-” Hoseok is cut off by Yoongi’s index finger placed on his lips. He commands, “Just shut up and fucking kiss me already. You owe me. Big time.” Hoseok chuckles before leaning in to wrap his arms around Yoongi, placing his hands along his back, pulling Yoongi flush to his body.

Before heading out to investigate the supposed “Namjoon Kim” case Hoseok urged you earlier to begin, you chose to pay a visit to your favorite chocolatier in the mall, the one that sells your favorite chocolate-covered strawberries. The fresh, cool breeze of the air conditioner blows through your hair as you strut through the front entrance of The Echidna. The chocolate shop wasn’t far from the main entrance, on the entry level so you decided to take your time, casually strolling through the mall. The smell of pretzels, pizza, and other delicious foods filled your senses as you passed by the food court. After a minute more of walking, you reach the shop and realize they are running a promotion: Buy one dozen of chocolate-covered strawberries, get another half off.

Just in time.

On the rooftops, Jungkook blasts over buildings and latches onto pipes, ladders, and other obstacles that help him navigate throughout the environment.

“Thunderbird for Phoenix.” Jimin keys back into Namjoon while taking a break from running.

“Go for Phoenix.” Namjoon tracks Jimin’s location, and notes how far he is from the intended location.

“Good job. You’re on the right path. You should be able to see the front side of the Cobra Enterprises building from where you are.” Jimin scans his surroundings on the east side, and notes the building with a golden, cobra snake symbol. “Yeah, I see it.”

“Good. Continue your normal path and you’ll notice the building will then be on the east side of you.” Jimin nods in approval, “Copy that.”

Yoongi and Hoseok lie in bed together, wrapped in each other’s embrace. Hoseok rests on Yoongi’s chest, drawing circles on his chest with Yoongi’s fingers laced in his strands.

“So,” Yoongi breaks the silence. “So?” Hoseok questions, admiring the soft supple skin under his fingertips.

“Gonna tell me where you were last night?” Just as Hoseok gathered up the courage to respond, Yoongi cuts him off.

“No, wait! Let me guess. With ____,” he states with a dry tone. A tinge of jealousy behind his words. Hoseok turns his head around, facing Yoongi.

“Are we really doing this again?” Yoongi rolls his eyes, pushing Hoseok off of his chest. Hoseok’s eyebrows naturally crease in response.

“Yoongi, seriously?” The eldest says nothing, his back now turned to the youngest, having flipped over on his side.

“What fucking more do you want?!” Hoseok runs his fingers through his hair, his strands falling back onto his forehead. Yoongi keys in on him, with a furious gaze. “Us!” He exclaims, sitting up and easing his way out of bed to slip on his jeans.

“I fucking want us,” He continues, more-so demanding rather than stating. Hoseok takes a deep breath. “You know that I’m working on that-”

Yoongi seethes. “Yeah, and for how long?!” His voice raising with fists clenched on his jeans, zipping them up. “Don’t you fucking get it?” He adds, slipping on his signature, purple v-neck.

“____ is in love with you. How do you just “work on that?” He emphasizes with air quotation marks. Hoseok struggles to answer, leaving his lips parted slightly. A moment of silence falls between the two. Yoongi takes this as a cue of defeat — slipping on his leather jacket.

“Exactly.” He exits the bedroom, leaving Hoseok to ponder in his thoughts, while left in bed naked, regret filling him completely.

Yoongi saunters downstairs and slips on his boots, departing from Hoseok’s loft. He runs his fingers through his hair, while marching down the hallway of the complex. His mind continues to race many miles per hour. His finger presses the button to signal the elevator, and to his surprise, the doors open quicker than he’d expected. He takes a deep breath while stepping in and recounting the moment he’d had with Hoseok.

He hates himself for getting caught up in this situation with him, and now with you involved made matters worse. His heart aches at the thought of what things would be like if he hadn’t traded Namjoon out. Yoongi misses him, but he knows he’d never accept him for who he is and he wouldn’t ever forgive him for what he’d done. A pang in his chest approaches, knowing that he and Namjoon’s future was now long gone, and merely nothing but a dream now. It hurts, and he’s hurt. Which is why he’d pressed Hoseok to get you to look into his case in the first place. He needed this. Needed closure. He misses Namjoon, and there isn’t a day that passes when he doesn’t think of him. He needs him.

You’d chosen the dozen of half milk-chocolate strawberries and half white-chocolate covered strawberries. For both sets. The cashier carefully hands you the paper bag, with two gorgeous arrangements of twelve strawberries in each box. You gracefully exit the chocolatier with the brightest smile on your face, strutting toward the entrance of The Echidna to make your departure from the mall. Jungkook awaits on the rooftops, peering at his surroundings to ensure no one is in sight. And by no one, he specifically means blue lights. His tired being squats down, seating himself on the ground, nearby one of many dome-shaped, skylights that sit behind him. The sun toasting his skin causes him to wipe away the perspiration from his forehead, for what feels like the hundredth time.

Namjoon scans the time on the Thunder portal, noting that the runner should have arrived by now.

“Viper should be within your perimeter. Do you see him?” Jungkook scans his peripheral, but there is no sight of said runner. “No, he’s not here.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow, as he doesn’t see any hint of a runner nearby the mall. The only indicator visible is Jungkook’s location. A red, blinking dot on the map.

“Something’s not right,” He says to himself, shaking his head.

Jungkook feels a presence behind him and just before he could turn around to say something, a deep, baritone voice speaks out.

“Thanks for meeting me here, this was a great spot.” But when Jungkook’s eyes landed on the tall, slender form, his mouth flew agape.

Violet. One of the colors on the spectrum that hadn’t been discovered yet.

There was no way, he thought. No way it was possible. And then the eldest spoke again, realizing Jungkook’s expression.

“Hey. Red, huh? Wait-” He pauses, Jungkook clenches the bag’s strap tightly. “That’s the color where- What’s that leaders name?” His finger taps his chin as if thinking. “It’s right at the tip of my tongue… Sounds like a month?”

Jungkook stops dead in his tracks, his eyes widening. How did he know Thunderbird’s real name?

“How do you know his name?” Kook questions, gripping onto the bag tighter.

“It’s Joon, right? Namjoon! There it is.” Namjoon keys in to double-check on the youngest.

“Falcon, has he arrived yet? I’m still not able to see him.” Namjoon grows hesitant from not receiving a response.

Jungkook abruptly throws the bag at the man standing in front of him and darts in the opposite direction. Viper sprints behind him and tackles the youngest down onto one of the skylights, their figures thumping and sliding against the glass. Viper bangs Jungkook’s head into the glass. Jungkook throws a harsh punch straight to Viper’s nose and tackles him down, his body now caging him in.

“Who the hell are you?!” Jungkook seethes.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Viper grins with a mischievous expression. Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow at his coy remark. His hands grip around his neck, applying pressure with much force.

“Falcon?” Namjoon keys in yet again. Growing suspicious, he continues to scan the area and notes a blinking, blue light that appears to be moving. His assumption is that whoever it is may be inside the mall. “Fuck.”

A tinge of venom seeps from Viper’s words, “Tell that leader of yours, that Firebird is looking for him-” He chokes, Jungkook applying more pressure.

“He better- get ready.. for him too.” He adds with a menacing laugh. Jungkook releases his neck and throws another punch to his face, his knuckles aching as a result. Viper continues to laugh, and manhandles Jungkook. His back falls back onto the delicate material below them. He drives his foot against the side of Jungkook’s abdomen repeatedly.

“Ahhh, fuck!” Jungkook groans, his fists clenching from the pain.

Jungkook forces a kick straight to Viper’s face, grazing his nose with his shoe, causing drips of blood to spill. Jungkook clenches his teeth and tackles Viper down again, and then suddenly.

Crack.

The two men gaze down below them, and witness cracks scattering along the glass of the skylight.

“Shit,” Jungkook slips.

“Falcon!” Namjoon yells into his earpiece.

Viper watches Jungkook’s expression with wide eyes, his lips parting in shock. Jungkook slowly stands on his two feet, removing himself from on top of the eldest and attempts to escape, but with the added weight of being on his feet, the glass shatters into pieces, Viper’s form falls through the skylight, en route to the interior of the mall. Jungkook trips, losing his grip on the edge, his veins popping out as he forces his body back up onto the rooftop.

You fumble in the pockets of your leather jacket to obtain your car keys. Until the sudden sound of shattering glass startles you and out of the blue, an intense cracking, thud-like sound follows by a body falling splat onto the ground level of the mall. The contents in your hands drop in response, and the only melody filling your ears is the screams throughout the entire atmosphere, civilians pushing their way to the nearest exit. A thumping beat resides in your chest, and it’s as if your heart pounds so loud you that the noise suffocates your hearing above everything else. Your mouth falls open, and your instincts tell you to examine from above, where the body initially came from. And then your eyes meet a familiar face; to say you were shocked was an understatement.

There he was. Again. The man you’d seen yesterday. You knew it was him because you remember those eyes, his hair, and that black mask. After locking eyes with you, he immediately vanishes. You glare at the body that lies on the ground, slowly inching toward the male. With shaky hands, you kneel down to feel his pulse under his neck and there’s nothing.

Jungkook charges off the rooftops of The Echidna, adrenaline pumping through his veins like never before. The last thing he needed was for blue lights on his tail. And he saw you. He fucked up again. You saw him, and now there’s nothing he can do to un-do what happened. The sound of Namjoon’s voice resonates within Jungkook’s earpiece. “Falcon! What the hell happened? Did you deliver the package?” Jungkook says nothing, instead, he runs.

Namjoon sighs in frustration.

“I’m here,” Jimin keys in. Namjoon locates Jimin’s location.

“Fuck,” Namjoon replies.

Jimin asks with a hint of confusion, “Did I do something wrong?” Namjoon sighs.

“No, Phoenix. You’ve made it to the destination. I haven’t heard from Jungkook since he arrived at The Echidna, and he isn’t responding.” Jimin’s eyes widen. Oh no, had something happened to him? What if… the dream?

“Wait what? Do you need me to head over there?” Namjoon shakes his head, as if he could see him.

“No! Stay where you are. Just find out what you can find, and I’ll be here. I’ll handle it. Over and out.”

Jimin’s heart drops. He hoped Jungkook was okay, for his own sake. He couldn’t lose another person close to his heart.

Namjoon locates Jungkook’s location, and he’s storming like a lightning bolt. He removes his headset to meet with the youngest. Jungkook pants, his chest rising and falling.

“Falcon, what the hell? How many times do I-” Namjoon is cut off by the expression on Jungkook’s face. He stops in his tracks and notices his mask is already off, with tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. His hands are shaking, and his heart is beating rapidly.

“Jungkook?”

Jungkook begins rambling, “I-I don’t know. I don’t know what the fuck just happened!” Tears stream down his cheeks, he feels like he’s on fire, his chest continues to gasp for air. He feels like he’s about to have a panic attack.

“I-It all j-just happened s-so fast, I don’t know what to do.” Namjoon notes his trembling hands; he’d never seen him so worked up before.

“He- he came. And then I saw his purple shirt a-and I panicked, I didn’t know what the fuck to do! I-” Jungkook sobs with an aching pain on his side. “I didn’t know what to do!”

“Okay, Kook just calm down. Follow me into the coms room.” Upon arrival, Namjoon processes what had been said and his eyebrows furrow in reply. “Wait… His shirt? It was what?”

Jungkook makes an attempt to calm himself down, his rosy-tinted cheeks stained with wet tears. “Violet. It’s the last color on the spectrum.”

Namjoon shakes his head, now pacing back and forth. “This could only mean one thing…” He trails off, pondering the fact he discovered a new color on the spectrum. He scrolls through the portal and peers at the map, finding the different colors of the spectrum scattered across the city of Python. Every color except Violet.

“That’s why Thunder couldn’t pinpoint his location. Violet isn’t yet programmed into the software. Which means-”

“Firebird.” Jungkook slips.

Namjoon’s gaze snaps toward him with wide eyes, “Where did you get that name?”

“Viper said it. Firebird is looking for you.” He pauses, to let in a deep breath, “And you’d better get ready.” Jungkook groans in discomfort, a sharp shock of pain shooting through his side. He watches Namjoon’s figure, noticing the startled expression on his face.

No, it can’t be. There’s no way he was looking for him. Even if he was, why? After all this time, why now? And what was it that Namjoon had to prepare for?

And then everything came crashing down. “Shit,” Namjoon spills.

“Who is Firebird, anyway?” Jungkook questions with curiosity. A distinct chattering sound can be heard from Namjoon’s headset.

“Phoenix for Thunderbird! Do you copy?” Jimin chimes in with a slight tinge of frustration and worry clouding his being.

Ignoring Jungkook’s question, Namjoon places his headset back on.

“Go for Thunderbird.”

Jimin sighs in relief, “Oh, fuck. I thought I lost you for a sec.”

Namjoon shakes his head, “What’s going on?”

With a heaving, sweaty chest Jimin states, “We have a problem. A really, fucking, big one.” — his eyes keyed in and widening at the sight of what’s happening at the docks.

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