#Wild fields of forget-me-nots

[tgmsunmontue]

Wild fields of forget-me-nots - 11/? WIP

During the training for the mission Jake has an accident which results in him losing 10 years of memories.

A lot has happened in ten years. Bradley broke up with him. DADT was repealed. He got and air-to-air kill and a new callsign.

And he doesn't remember any of it.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN

PART ELEVEN

��               “God I love you, you completely stupid fucking idiot…”

                “Hey baby…” Bradley drawls, not sure if Jake can understand him, tongue thick in his mouth, but that’s what he’s saying. Trying to say. Jake looks so good. He needs to tell him that, painkillers and concussion making him feel drunk. Except he’s in too much pain for that. “You look good…”

                Jake laughs, but there’s a hysterical edge to it and he’s swooping down to press a kiss to Bradley’s forehead.

                “Still trying to flirt when you’re horizontal.”

                “It’s… it’s how I do my best work,” Bradley jokes, and his ribs are fucking sore, breathing hurts. Laughing hurts. Everything fucking hurts. But he’s alive.

                “Not for a while you’re not. We’re walking wounded. You just lay there and look pretty…”

                “Thought that was your job.”

                “Guys. I’m right here,” Coyote states, and his expression is incredibly unimpressed. He’s looking at Bradley like he’s waiting for him to just blurt it out and he shifts, trying to sit up a little, because he knows he needs to do it.

                “Hey, what are you trying to do… stay there,” Jake says, hand on his shoulder, too soft to actual apply pressure but he gets what Jake is trying to do and he slumps back down, what little energy he had sapped away.

                “I… I need to tell you something.”

                Jake’s eyes rove over his face, or he’s more concussed than he thought, unable to focus properly and Jake’s concussion also means he’s unable to focus. God they make a pair.

                “Oh… oh darlin’. You don’t need to tell me anything. I already know.”

                “Know?” Bradley asks, stomach twisting and he thinks he might be sick again. Thinks about Jake turning around and walking out. He wouldn’t blame him. Wouldn’t stop him. “Know what?”

                “I know that we’re not actually married. Although I’m going to marry the hell out of you Bradley Bradshaw. Once we’re both fully recovered and can actually enjoy our wedding night and honeymoon…”

                “Um. Did you get your memories back?”

                “Nope. Not yet. Did read a few hundred letters with my name on them though…”

                “Oh. Oh shit…” Bradley says with dawning horror. He hadn't thought about them.

                “Letters?” Coyote asks and Bradley feels woozy again. Jake doesn’t look upset though, and Bradley scrambles for his hand, needs to check.

                “Yeah darlin’, I’m still wearing my ring. Wild horses couldn’t take it off me.”

                “I’m sorry…” Bradley whispers, and he can feel the pressure in his head, concussion headache becoming worse with the threatening tears so he just lets them fall. “I’m so sorry.”

                “We will be having a very very long conversation. A long overdue one. But it can wait until you’re feeling better,” Jake says quietly, pressing another kiss to his forehead and he still feels sick with guilt, but also a little relieved that his letters have already done the job he’d been dreading, despite it not being his intention.

                “You wrote him a letter?” Coyote asks, tone sharp, accusing and Bradley shakes his head and he groans, the action making him feel worse. Jake’s hand settles on his face, cupping his jaw.

                “He’s been writing me letters for years. Since he broke up with me.”

                “What? And you’re just going to forgive him?”

                “Well, seeing as I don’t remember him doing anything that needs forgiving, yes. We’ll cross other bridges when we come to them. Okay?” Jake asks him, and he blinks slowly, nods his head just as slowly.

                He knows there’s a chance Jake might leave when he gets his memories back, but there’s also a chance he’ll stay. He’ll take any chance over zero chance.

…            …            …

                He wakes up later with a gasp, nightmare of explosions fading behind his eyelids. Someone is sitting there quietly, and he shifts, expecting to see Jake. Instead, it’s Maverick and he’s disappointed, clearly does a poor job of hiding the fact if Mav’s amused huff is any indication.

                “He’s gone home. He’s still meant to be resting, and he only went because Coyote insisted he go home and sleep in a proper bed. They’ll be back early tomorrow. Today.”

                “Pretty sure you’re meant to be resting as well,” Bradley croaks, and Mav snorts, stands to get him a glass of water which he accepts gratefully. His ankle is throbbing and he vaguely remembers them saying he’d hurt it.

                “Couldn’t sleep. Needed to check on you. They’ve got me next door.”

                “Good. How are you feeling?”

                “Sore. Don’t think my body can handle any more…” Mav says and Bradley scoffs, but doesn’t shake his head, still doesn’t trust himself to not throw up. “I’m serious. Two ejections in a month are two too many.”

                “What? Two?”

                “Yeah. First one was before I came to North Island obviously, only by a couple of days. So. Yeah. That was my second ejection. Then a crash landing. My body is letting me know it’s had enough. Even if my mind is willing, my body is telling me it’s tired… Not as young as I used to be.”

                Bradley sucks in a quiet breath and lets it out silently, wonders if he should ask, if it matters, or whether it’ll give them something else to talk about. The idea that Mav could have died without them talking… Fuck. He doesn’t think he can handle it right now. Not with the one he’s already sort of had with Jake and the bigger one he knows he has coming.

                “I’m glad we’re both alive Mav.”

                “So am I kid, so am I.”

…            …            …

                Someone is running fingers through his hair. It feels nice. He hums, presses into it, blinks sleepily, feels fingertips brush over his eyebrows. The room is dark, but he suspects it’s actually daylight outside now.

                “Jake?”

                “Right here…”

                “Love you.”

                “Love you too. Go back to sleep if you want. I’m not going anywhere.”

…            …            …

                When he wakes again he feels more alert. As his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room he can see Jake, his arms and head resting on the hospital bed so he can also sleep. He can’t reach him, but he desperately needs to touch him, fumbles with the control of the hospital bed, gasps and breathes through the pain in his ribs as the bed moves him slowly more upright. Fuck. If this is just bruised he’s really glad they’re not broken.

                “What are you even trying to do?” Jake asks, and Bradley can see now that his eyes are open, mere slits watching him.

                “Couldn’t reach you…”

                “You only had to ask darlin’,” Jake says, and he’s pressing a kiss to his forehead again and he knows he’s feeling better because he wants to kiss him properly. Especially now that there’s not the lie of their fake marriage between them. “How are you feeling?”

                “Uh. Honestly? I really need to piss…”

                “There are crutches if you think you can handle them, or I can go and find a wheelchair.”

                “Crutches are fine…”

                Of course it’s not that easy, but Jake is there and helping, standing beside him with his hand on his waist and he gives in to the urge to draw him into a hug, holds him tight and feels his breath catch as he feels Jake hug him back, much gentler, clearly mindful of Bradley’s ribs.

                “So glad I got to come back home to you.”

                “Oh, trust me. I’m just as glad. But don’t think that I’m not also angry with you, but I’m also a little angry at myself for clearly missing how bad you must have been feeling. Loving you has always been easy.”

                “Even now?”

                “Especially now…but come on, get moving before you piss yourself.”

                Bradley grins and does as he's told.

[obsidianpen]

Bellatrix Lestrange.

“No—no!”

Hermione felt heat licking up her spine, scouring her skin. The ropes caught fire; Lily yelped and jumped back; everyone shouted and raised their wands. Hermione shouted and twisted and pushed at her now burning constraints, forcing them apart despite how they burned her; she would not, they would not—no, no, no—

Flowers.

Hermione stretched both arms above her head, yawning as she she did. She looked about the flourishing field. Wild roses. Balsams. Ten-week stocks. Citronella flowers. Forget-me-nots. Zinnas. All the butterflies were white.

Hm, Hermione thought as she laid there. The sun was warm on her skin; she closed her eyes and sighed happily. This is all I want, she thought. To lay in the sunshine.

Just as she had the thought, a shadow crossed her face. Annoyed, Hermione opened her eyes again.

A boy.

He was sitting beside her, still as carved marble. His hair was black and his skin was white. He was facing the sun, but when Hermione shifted to better see his face, she saw that his eyes were closed.

“Can you move?” Hermione grumbled. 

The boy didn’t move; in fact, he was so still that Hermione was beginning to think he really was a statue. 

“Please?” Hermione said sharply.

The boy drew in a deep breath through his nose. “Will you ever stop haunting me?” he said, so quietly Hermione could barely hear him. His eyes remained closed, and he kept his face turned away from her, toward the sun. He wasn’t moving.

“Well, I might,” Hermione responded, “if you stop blocking the sun already.”

At this, the boy came to life. He turned and looked at Hermione, who was still pinned beneath his shadow. He looked absurdly surprised; his dark eyes were huge, and though his lips were parted, he appeared speechless.

“Well?” Hermione said. “Move, please. I was here first. I… think.”

The boy didn’t seem to be listening. He continued to stare at her in blatant shock. Slowly, almost fearfully, like he thought she might run away if he moved too fast, he reached for her. His hand was shaking.

“…Hermione…?” he whispered. 

His fingers hovered over hers, were on the precipice of taking her hand in his—

“Wakey, wakey, ickle mudblood.”

[casualaruanienjoyer]

Flowers

"Yes, this one will do..." Armin mutters to himself as a gentle gust of wind ruffles his hair over his face.

It's early morning, the sun is lazily gliding up the horizon and there's no clouds on the sky. It's the perfect day for Armin to be off cadet duty. The perfect day for him to be out in the field.

But being off duty today doesn't mean he's not on a mission.

"This one too, for sure!"

He looks down at the small pile he's been delicately building by his side and adds yet another one on top.

Flowers. Wild flowers.

Bundles of striking colours and intricate shapes. Poppies, bluebells, daisies, buttercups... the list goes on.

He's been out and about for 30 minutes now, scouting the field for anything that catches his eyes. Anything that reminds him of-

"Aha! You, little one, are coming with me!" He reaches out for a bundle of Forget-me-nots.

He gazes at the beautiful blue petals. Blue like the ocean that he dreams of seeing one day. Blue like the sky above on a beautiful sunny day. Blue like her-

"This. She'll love this" he whispers so quietly, as though it was a secret only between him and the flowers he's turning between his fingers.

Armin reaches out for the rest of the blossoms he'd gathered, but his eyes jump to his watch.

He stands abruptly.

"Shoot! I'm going to be late!"

He starts running back towards the camp, flowers in one hand while the other reaches for some loose string in his cardigan pocket.

He tries his best not to trip while he wraps the delicate string around the flower stems, bringing them all together with a small bow.

"Perfect!"

Armin makes a mental note to thank Mikasa for teaching him how to twist, braid and knot string. He never knew it would come in handy one day.

He admires his work, turning the bouquet from side to side to fix any stray leaves, and for a second he forgets to check his steps.

"Whoa-!!"

Armin suddenly slips, losing his footing for just a second. He rapidly slides downhill towards one of the cadet cabins, though his arm stretches out just in time to stop him from running right into the wooden wall. He stops with a light 'thud'.

"That was... too close..."

He's never usually this reckless, but today he's on a mission. And he absolutely cannot be late because-

"Um...?"

Armin freezes.

He'd reached his destination either too late, or too loudly and now-

"What are you doing here... exactly?"

Now, she's here.

"Uhh..." for a moment he doesn't lift his head to meet the presence peeking out through the window above. The window he already knows too well. The same window that he's been visiting early in the morning for some time now. The window that belongs to-

"A-annie! Good morning!" he does his best to hide the flowers behind his back, laughing awkwardly.

But when he finally lifts his eyes to meet hers he can't help but blush. She's... well. A bit of a mess.

Her hair sticks up in several places, her signature tight bun is absent, replaced by waves of hair that reach just past her shoulders. She has dark circles under her eyes, darker than usual. Her gaze is sleepy and she squints her eyes as if to see him better.

Then she yawns. Annie's just woken up.

Shit.

Shit!

He's just a little too late. If only he woke up earlier himself, he wouldn't have ended up in this position. He wouldn't have had to find an excuse to be-

"Snooping around the girl dorms, Armin?"

"What!? No, that's not-!"

There's a pause. Armin's thoughts are racing, trying to find a way out of this.

When she lifts an eyebrow at him, he can't tell if she's annoyed or amused by this encounter.

It certainly doesn't help that she's so... so...close to him.

He's standing at eye level with the window sill, doing his best to look anywhere else but at her slightly open shirt and the blonde locks of hair tickling her neck. He curses his eyes for wandering.

"Well...?"

Armin's eyes land on her lips as she speaks and the redness of his cheeks instantly travels down his neck.

Shit.

There's no way out of this.

"I-I um..." he starts, clearing his throat. "I guess there's no point in hiding it." He straightens his back, taking a deep breath. He gathers all his confidence to steady himself.

"Here"

Armin pulls the bouquet from behind his back, lifting it up in the air. His fingers are a sweaty mess around the stems and his arms are shaking ever so slightly.

But despite his body language, his expression remains determined when he meets Annie's eyes.

Her beautiful blue eyes.

"They reminded me of you."

(The Aruani fic gods were with me tonight, I hope you liked this!! AAAAA. Now up on AO3 as well!)

(Also dedicated to @annawayne who encouraged me to write this fic based on a Cadet Aruani post I made not long ago. Thank you 🥺🙏)

[megpricephotography]

It's still horrendously wet most days & disgustingly muddy everywhere but spring has sprung. We got out during a brief dry spell on Friday afternoon & took some pics. Suddenly the countryside is vibrantly green & wildflowers are showing all along the hedgerows & down in the fields. The last of wild daffodils, violets, wood anenomes, cowslips, forget me nots, celandines & even the bluebells are starting to make their appearance.

Oh & in non-spring related happenings, we also spotted this big old brown owl, carved out of an old tree! It watches over a country road leading into town... must make visiting drivers jump from time to time!

[derthief-dieb]

Chapter 1 - Forget-me-not

Picturesque. Perfect. Yet… homely. It was a small mansion, somewhat modest in size - or, at least, as modest as a mansion can get. Against the backdrop of a nighttime cityscape, it stood dormant, much like its closest neighbors, all but one. 

This was the target. 

Well, more specifically, the painting inside the master study was the target. And that's exactly where the Thief would be heading. YN LN. master thief extraordinaire. A true professional in the art of trespassing and stealing. Not that it was technically a real profession, but people paid her for it, so it was good enough as one. 

Besides, it's what she was good at - her skills were best suited to this kind of job rather than any other job there was for her out there. She’d tried - many times, the longest she lasted was as a cashier at some supermarket. It took an entire year before she got bored and started messing around on the job, and another three months before they fired her for it. 

Ultimately, burglary is what she fell back to. 

Back to the job;

This one was rather simple, a little boring for her tastes, get into the building, find the master study, steal the painting hanging above the mantle piece. It was boring and uneventful - at least, thats how it was shaping up to be as she moved through darkened corridors with ease - not even a creak in the floor boards to send her anxiety sky rocketing! No fun to be had at all. The art of theft was lost on this palace - stupidly easy to get in, stupidly easy to move through, and stupidly easy to navigate. 

Perhaps that's why she began snooping around. After stealing the painting, of course. A beautiful piece - a pearly white vase full of wild, blue forget-me-nots. It was almost a shame to take it down and roll it up. But that's what she did, before eventually moving over to the desk in the room. Cluttered and untidy and covered in paper - various documents and letters and other such things, of course, YN didn’t hesitate to swipe up a few of the letters and give them a quick read. 

She’d done this before, on other jobs, and usually, it wasn’t an issue, there was never anything to be concerned about, just a few funny little tidbits about someone's personal life - this however, the contents of these letters made her face pale and her blood run cold. This was - they were plans. Nothing too detailed, but there was enough for her to understand what was going on. 

The writer of this letter and the man it was mailed too had plans to meet up to discuss something of great importance to them both. It was only briefly touched on in the letter but… well, the plans they wanted to discuss in more detail - how to remove the SSS from the playing field.

Honestly, if not for the evidence in her hands, YN would have had a hard time believing it - afterall, who in their right mind would discuss something like this through mere letters - something so easitl interceptable! But alas, the letters sat in her hands, and she wasnt sure what to do with them. 

Does she report this to the SSS? Say something? Do something?! Ah! But what can she do? She's a thief: a criminal. What would she say - ‘Oh, I was just in the middle of stealing some painting when I decided to intrude on this poor man a little more and found some letters about how they are planning to ‘get rid’ of the SSS’. no! She couldn’t do that. An anonymous tip then - also not possible, see, the whole thing with the SSS was that they were secret - not many people, if anyone at all, outside of themselves knew who actually worked there. It was a dilemma, but YN tried to reason with herself a little - she didn't need to report it or tell anyone - there was no concrete proof, just some ideals and plans to meet up and discuss something in person in a letter. There was no threat to life - no clear threat anyway, so it would be fine if she didn't say anything, right? 

YN didnt have much time to ponder on it though, as she heard footsteps fast approaching the study; had she been discovered? Probably not, but it wouldnt be a good idea to stick around. 

Looking around the room, she spotted the window behind her and hastily pushed it open, slipping out quietly just as the study door opened up. 

______________________________________________________________

chapter 1 done! I'm actually feeling motivated to write this right now.

No Yuri yet, but he'll turn up soon.

master post ~

[moonearthangel]

I can’t wait to mess this up too lol im going to either plant a big blanket mini field of lavender, wild flowers, or forget me nots

[daemon-in-my-head]

4 & 6 pls. And 28 please

Hehe, thanks a bunch dear let me just drop some more tragedy over here. From this lil ask game.

4. What's it like being known as a hero? Do they enjoy it? Are they getting shy whenever they hear a bard recount their tales? Is it too overwhelming, and they decided to try and escape it?

He doesn't particularly enjoy it, doesn't believe hes a hero either. And that's perhaps the one respite I gave him. Since he was gone for 40 years and he's changed quite a bit, people, at least at first, didn't realise who he was. He was, ofc, eventually recognised by someone who knew him as a prominent figure when he was still haunting the local nobility for temple funds. Still, before that, he gets away with pretending to be just another stranger. Until he fucks it up for himself and reveals the truth.

6. Have we learned from the mistakes of our predecessors, or are we fully embracing the Abdel Adrian route? Are they trying to establish themselves as an influential figure or trying just to live a lovely little peaceful life?

This flows wonderfully from the earlier question; he's attempting to do both and failing brilliantly. He and Gort aren't really on great terms in the beginning. But Gortash holds a significantly greater amount of power than he does within the city. And Fine rather quickly figures out that he's pretty fucked without any significant backing, but most of the people in power are very much on Gortash's side.

So the mf enters politics. But not as Fine, or a Starym, or the relative of the Bormuls he posed as. No he does it as the hero who once saved the city and Gortash’s political enemy. Because, surprise, surprise, the people remember their heroes. And not everything that glitters is gold, much less if a tyrant sits at its helm. He basically tries to imitate Abdel perfectly, but to absolutely nobody's surprise, challenging the local authority while trying to keep your kid safe doesn't really work that well, no matter how many ordinary citizens you have backing you.

He too was is a schemer but unlike Gort who's been playing in politics for decades all he has done was enjoy family time and the occasional battle field. Saying he's rusty is putting it lightly. He very much nearly started a civil war himself.

28. Wild card / Dealers choice.

Okay well this is just plain sad but I adore it about him; his favourite flowers are forget-me-nots.

Which, by itself, is not that special. But then I tell you that the only reason he even managed to survive the shadowfell and Bhaal was because he swore to himself he needed to remember his adopted family. That he owed them this. That its the only way to make up for what he's done, even if he never wanted it to happen. That's this is the only way to retain whatever little of himself and his humanity is left even when he's supposed to be just another monster.

And because that wouldn't be enough tragedy already, I will then tell you that thanks to Orins intervention, he completely forgot about them. And that he will never truly remember for as long as he's alive, especially not that oath he swore to himself. But he will remember the flowers because he kept accessories and a tattoo with them, and he knows they are important, even if he doesn't know why.

He will never remember them. But he himself will never be forgotten.

[thecutestgrotto]

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[sarasalandhistory]

How I Would Rewrite TotK

I had some problems with TotK when I played, but I overlooked some issues with the story and plot because I liked the game. After replaying it recently, I did realize there would be things I would change if I could, and these are them:

Firstly, I mentioned in a recent post that my major pet peeve is that people don't know Link in Hateno, Lurelin, or around Hyrule, but logically they would. Masterworks confirm that Link is a well-known figure, and Zelda mentions that he accompanies her as her guard across Hyrule. That is my first change. Either people know Link off the bat, or there is a reason Link isn't recognized outside of Lookout Landing. This could be as simple as a dialogue option with Purah that could say that 'until things are more handled, it would be best that people don't know that the princess's knight is back.' They have something like this with Traysi, who mentions that Link shouldn't cause a scene by telling Penn or anyone who he really is while working for her. Also, included the option being recognized thanks to the Champion's Leathers. Link wore his old tunic so much, it wore out, so we can assume that was his main gear for years. He's not wearing it, it'll be hard to recognize him if you aren't friends. Simple.

Be more clear about Link and Zelda's relationship at this point. I ship them, and I can tell they're in a relationship since we have Zelda's heated looks and Link outright saying he has someone special to Ashai. Heck, it ends with him bridal carrying her to a field filled with forget-me-nots. In the last game, Zelda is stated to be in love with Link and Link wants to defeat Ganon to see her smile. Why are they still teasing us? This is the last game with this iteration of Zelink, and they took a torpedo to every other ship in Wilds Era (RIP), so why not be open about it? Don't tease, just do. God, this is why I'm doing a visual novel based on this pairing.

Make the past more in-line with what was built up in BotW. Rauru and Sonia could still be king and queen, this could even be the founding of Hyrule, but make it overly confusing. You can just have the Zonai be the reason, the old Hyrule became a technological giant and that's why they were so important. Make the Secret Stones more of their own, like having them be Hylia's tears. Also, just say that Sonia was a descendant of Hylia instead of just hinting at it. I would also make Ganondorf responsible for the missing Sheikah Tech.

And that was the main things I would change about ToTK

[eris-snow]

𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝

Tags: Revelation (Deku's birthday series 2024), izuku x fem!reader, angst, pain, discovery, pain

Masterlist

July 12th. Tit for tat.

“T-Trespass?” Izuku stutters, eyeing the rickety sign that had been eroded with acid rain. “W-We really shouldn’t, we’re supposed to be heroes—”

“Oh, cap it, Midoriya, we’ve done this more times than you’ve broken your bones. If they really wanted us out of here, they’d have chewed us out years ago.” You swing yourself over the gate, and hoist the picnic basket with you. Your hair falls, and the grin that you give him is every bit more genuine than he’s ever seen you before.

Every step closer to this mysterious haven had your shoulders easing and your face glowing with more and more colour. It makes him more determine than ever.

“I’ve been here with you?”

He knows that he's been here with Kacchan. When they were little, Katsuki had led his jerk squad straight into the forest without fear or regard. He’d idolised his friend so much back then, that he’d simply followed along with starry eyes because he didn’t want to be left out. Now, he was being led back into the same forest by a girl whom he was supposed to know. (Bye, bye character growth.)

Excellent sense of self-preservation, if he does say so himself.

“Every week,” you clip. “Plus, this area wasn’t barricaded back then, so it was easier to access.”

Arching an eyebrow, Izuku folds his arms. “Isn’t that a sign that they want to keep us out?”

You give him an unamused expression, and raise an eyebrow. Eyes glimmer, you smirk, as if daring him to play with fire. “Come on, Izuku. Do you want to see the clearing or not?”

Hands clenched in fists. You see steel settle in Izuku’s eyes, mouth set into a thin line. There’s not a movement wasted, all efficiency, a void of struggle as heclimbs over the barrier with ease. Landing on his feet, he dusts his hands against his shorts, and gives you a beautiful smile/

“Let’s go.”

—

It’s the Polaroid in his pocket and his visions come to life. Wild Forget-Me-Nots scatter across the field, crystal blue water in the lake nearby. Fine grass that tickles his ankles, and the weeping willow tree that grows big and strong. He’s never been here, he swears he hasn’t, but the feeling of déjà vu tells him otherwise.

Take me, where the grass is always green, where the water always runs clear. Take me, back to our past, to where your memories remain frozen in time.

He looks around, and tries to picture it. Little versions of himself and you playing tag in the field, each age a different branch you’re able to grab until both of you can climb the weeping willow with ease.

You’d climb, because you loved scaling things like a monkey, and Izuku would watch, making sure you wouldn’t fall. He smiles at the image he created, and pockets it in the back of his mind.

You spread the picnic mat out with practised ease, opening the basket to reveal two lovely bentos that you made from scratch. He swipes it out of your hands before you can change your mind.

“Childish.”

“You make good bentos,” He huffs. He still remembers that one charity event where Kacchan and you whipped up meals for 100 children in an orphanage. It felt straight out of a reality TV, and as an avid watcher of MasterChef junior, he will admit he got a little teary-eyed when you and Kacchan surprised the class with lunch too because the caterer’s truck broke down.

Even so, as both of you quietly devour the bentos, there’s nothing but a dull hum in his mind.

He didn’t expect this, not in the slightest. He’d prepared, both mentally and physically for the onslaught of memories and pain, but the skull-squeezing agony never arrives. Neither do the memories. 

Failure tastes like bile up his mouth, and no matter how well you stir-fried the vegetables or how tender your beef is, it can’t erase the failure he feels for failing you. Izuku can’t say he’s not disappointed, and he can see it in your eyes, the way they dim when he looks at you.

Your eyes are searching, your gaze hungry for recognition, and you’re always able to discern truth from lie. It’s a marvellous skill, but it makes Izuku feel like glass as you see straight through him.

It’s a battle you need to win alone.

Your perfectly cooked beef tastes sour in his mouth.

Why? He thinks miserably, can’t he be stronger than this?

—

Izuku’s surrounded by ice blue, and it takes him a couple of seconds to identify where he is.

A dream? He shakes his head. Can’t be, he never fell asleep.

He turns again, and smashes into a wall. His poor nose flares in pain, and Izuku takes a second to rebalance before readjusting himself to properly stare at the obstruction.

It’s looming, like a symbol of impending doom, but unlike the first time he saw it, there’s an ugly crack on it that runs all the way down to the pitch-black void. Behind it, there are windows and windows of moments captured in time.

It doesn’t take a neurosurgeon to figure out where he is in his mind.

A flash of green, and he’s pounding his fists against the wall with all his strength. One For All doesn’t work, so Izuku summons the power of his raw strength and rams himself against the wall. Nothing enlarges the crack, and nothing breaks the wall down.

Come on, there has to be a way.

“Let me in!” He roars, slamming his body into the towering barrier.

It doesn’t budge, and instead ignites pain like a lighter on birthday candles. Slumping to the black of the void, he shakes in rage and helplessness. 

Katsuki is depending on him. You’re relying on him, and all he’s taking is defeat after defeat. 

He can’t even break a wall right.

“Please…” He whispers, voice cracking. The monster stirs the pot, and Izuku tumbles in it. “I don’t know what else to do.”

Watch me crumble.

Watch me break.

Not knowing what else he needs to do isn’t an excuse. It means he just isn’t working smart enough.

Izuku pulls himself to his feet, eyes watering with tears as he prepares himself for the impact he’s going to inflict on himself again…

…when words flicker on the wall, carved in bright light.

My Quirk isn’t very strong.

Izuku stumbles in surprise, and falls against the wall with a thud. The writing sears itself into the obstruction, and it stares at him like a guiding hand.

Izuku grasps onto it, because it’s all he has.

Tit for tat, this for that. A brother for a brother, and pain for bits and scraps.

The writing is painfully vague, so Izuku reads on.

You want to find your memories? I understand. My Quirk is simple, very simple. Pain is not worth the weight of knowledge. Your trade is insufficient.

Try again.

Izuku’s breath hitches at the words. That’s when, the ground shakes, and a voice brings light to his surroundings. The wall fades as it’s bathed with light, and the last thing Izuku sees, it’s the words. that wash out with colour.

Try again.

“Mido…”

“Midoriya…!”

“Midoriya!”

The lake greets his gaze as he snaps out of his daze. “W-W-What? Is everything okay?” He sputters, glacing around with muscles taunt with anticipation.

Villains? Where?

“Calm down, worrywart, just us.” You say, rolling your eyes. His eyes snap up to see you sitting on a tree branch above as you sketch something in the notebook in hand. “Did something happen? You spaced out there for an abnormally long time.”

“Y-Yeah…” He says, running a hand through his curls. Thoughts swarm, and the words he’d seen are seared in his mind like a tattoo.

Your trade is insufficient.

Try again.

“Yeah.” He whispers, voice falling.

“I’m fine.”

[tgmsunmontue]

Wild fields of forget-me-nots - 9/? WIP

During the training for the mission Jake has an accident which results in him losing 10 years of memories.

A lot has happened in ten years. Bradley broke up with him. DADT was repealed. He got and air-to-air kill and a new callsign.

And he doesn't remember any of it.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT

PART NINE

                The mission is a success. It’s also a shit show. But no one dies, so there are more tallies in the success column than the shit-show one. He’s never flown so fast in his fucking life and he’s pretty sure he’s going to crash from the adrenaline drop any minute now, but he needs to go and make sure Bradshaw is legit alive and well and breathing. He told Jake he would keep an eye on him, bring him back safe, and he’s done the best he can.

                “Thanks for saving us. Saving me.”

                “Yeah well, I’ve got a best friend who would have been quite upset if I came back and you didn’t…” They stand there then, side by side, catching their breath. “You need to tell him. When we get back. You need to tell him.”

                “I know. I know I do… You know I was already planning on telling him.”

                Javy hums at that, because they’ve been gone what feels like an eternity but which is in fact only five days. Another thirty-six hours and they’ll be back on the mainland, debriefing and then who the fuck knows what’s going to be happening next. Definitely not him. Bradshaw looks fucking awful, like a man sentenced to death and Jake’s callsign hits him again, the idea that he’s a noose around Bradshaw’s neck, leading him around his entire life without even knowing it. He finds himself feeling a little bit sad for him, because he seriously doesn’t know how Jake will react when he gets his memories back.

                Bradshaw staggers then and he catches him automatically, arm looping under Bradshaw’s and around his back. Javy shifts, looks Bradshaw in the eye and takes in the dilated pupils and his inability to meet his gaze.

                “Come on, sick bay for you. Need to get you checked out…”

                “You too Maverick,” Cyclone orders, and Javy hadn’t realized that he was standing there, either of them; both watching and no doubt listening to Javy and Bradshaw talk. Maverick doesn’t say anything though, simply steps into the space on Bradshaw’s other side and then they’re walking toward the sickbay, guiding Bradshaw’s stumbling steps and he swallows, suddenly nervous that Bradshaw isn’t as okay as he had first seemed.

                “Bradshaw… talk to me. How are you feeling?”

                “Like I’m going to throw up.”

                Fuck. He doesn’t know if he can deal with both Jake and Bradshaw walking around with concussion, although Jake’s symptoms weren’t typical at all, and he had some physical injuries too. The Corpsman beckons them all inside and there’s another one in there. Bradshaw slumps onto a bed, clearly using up all his energy to walk here, even with assistance from both him and Maverick. They all get checked out, and the next time he glances over at Bradshaw he’s passed out, and he hopes it’s just sleep.

                “He okay?” Javy asks, jerking his chin in Bradshaw’s direction.

                “Concussion. Sprained ankle. Some bruised ribs. He’ll be fine.”

                Javy wonders what they’d say if he wasn’t going to be fine, it’s not like he’s on the need-to-know list. Still. He guesses he’ll stick to Bradshaw’s side and get him back to Jake as soon as possible. Bradshaw’s got a promise to keep and Javy’s going to ensure he sticks to it.

                “What did you mean?” Maverick asks and Javy startles a little, looks to where Maverick is sitting on the side of his bed, his eyes on Bradshaw lying asleep and Javy looks between them. “Lieutenant. What did you mean. Is Bradley… are he and Hangman…”

                “Uh…” Javy starts, wonders why it’s always him that gets put on the spot. What awful things did he do in his past life to have karma be coming for him this badly.

                “It’s not really my place to say. Sir.”

                “Well I can’t exactly ask Bradley now…”

                “Would he tell you anyway?” Javy asks, and as soon as the words out of his mouth he flinches, realizes how mean they sounds, even to his own ears. “Sorry sir, that was –”

                “No. No. You’re fine lieutenant. That was… that was a fair assessment. I would like to think he might. Now. We promised to talk.”

                “Then you’ll need to talk to him sir. Once he’s awake.”

                “Right. Once he’s awake. How is Hangman anyway?”

                “Uh. He’s… recovering.”

                “Heard he lost a chunk of memories.”

                “Yeah. He did.”

                “Anything I can help with?”

                “Uh. No sir. Thank you though.”

                Fuck. Jake used to idolize Maverick, and a whole bunch of other aviators. Then the hero worship stopped and that makes sense now if he thinks back to when Jake and Bradshaw first got together. Jake no doubt heard some home truths and that likely changed his view. He wonders if Jake knew exactly who it was they were throwing out of the Hard Deck those few weeks ago, whether he’d have still been angry on Bradshaw’s behalf. Fucked if he knows. He may never know.

…            …            …

                Bradshaw wakes up and he’s got all his memories; Javy thanks whatever deities are keeping an eye on him. Because that would have been a fucking awful situation, but one so hilariously comical he’d almost broken into hysterical giggles at the mere thought of it all. Not the blind leading the blind, but two stubborn men forgetting their relationship to one another. Fuck. Actually. Maybe that would have been easier, if they could have started over with a clean slate. Except no, he doesn’t want that to happen. Whatever Bradshaw’s problem and issues were or are he seems to have maybe made progress on them in the intervening years.

                Of course, Jake no longer poking and prodding all of Bradshaw’s sensitive spots is likely helping matters right now. Bradley’s temper completely defused by Jake’s accident, and because Jake doesn’t know better; doesn’t carry that anger with him at the moment. Javy has to admit to himself he’s a little worried about Jake remembering and how that’s going to go down, and wonders if Bradshaw telling him the truth is going to help or hurt.

(Next up in Chapter 10, Jake's POV and maybe the last chapter...)

TEN

[fandonnavyce]

Fic Masterpost

By Events

Ectoberhaunt 2023

Crossover Danuary 2024

DPxDC Ship Week2024 & Ship Week: After Dark 2024

Dannymay 2024 (WIP)

Patrol Partners 2024

Invisiobang 2024

Ghouls and Gangs 2024

Ecto-Implosion 2024

Fandom Trumps Hate 2024 (upcoming)

DPxDC, Dead on Main Series/AUs

My Love I Devour

and it's wider universe sequel series, The Wild Hunt

Cinderella Wonderland

Ghouls and Gangs 2024 - Hades and Persephone AU

Everything is posted on AO3, not everything is cross-posted on Tumblr

Ectoberhaunt 2023 AO3 Link

Day 2 - White Crow. Danny's a college student with some corvid friends. Dead on Main

My Love I Devour Series (In Timeline Chronology)

Day 4 - Zombies. Another Danny fixes Jason’s Pit Madness/Sick Ghost Core Fic, feat. the inherent homoeroticism of impromptu soul surgery. Rating: Mature. First in the My Love I Devour

Day 10: Occultism, Day 11: Dread vs Calm, Day 12: Obsession vs Repression, Day 13: Horror Flick - Sequel to Day 4

Day 17: Flesh, Day 18: Unravel vs Intertwine. Jason and Danny get down hot and heavy at a nightclub in the ghost zone. AO3 Series Link

Wild Hunt Series (Occurs post MLID)

Day 5 - Hunt. Ghost King Danny cordially invites you to the Wild Hunt, winner gets Constantine's entire soul - Danny's First Draft. DpxDc. First in the Wild Hunt Series

Day 19 - Claws. Danny needs Jason's brains (to write a royal invite) Sequel to Wild Hunt Part I.

Day 23: Magic, Day 26: Cults - The Ghost King summoning ritual is active for the first time in aeons. Constantine and Zatanna try it out and get more than they bargained for. AO3 Series Link

Crossover Danuary 2024 AO3 Link

Day 1 - Ben 10 Xover Tucker escapes Space Prison with the help of his two best friends

Day 1 - Another Ben 10 xover, the soft prequel. Ben meets an non-alien ET in a haunted forest

Day 2 - Atla Xover Hey, remember when Sokka got kidnapped into the Spirit World?

Day 4 - Cinderella Wonderland. A Cinderella and Alice in Wonderland Fandom Fusion but make it dpxdc, Dead on Main

Day 5 - The Owl House xover where The Collector becomes fast friends with a certain white haired girl on a day at the beach (Word of God part of the Cinderella Wonderland AU) AO3 Collection Link

DPxDC Ship Week and Ship Week: After Dark 2024

A continuation of Ectoberhaunt's Day17&18; it is the completion of part 3 of the MLID series. Can be read stand-alone more or less.

Part 1: Pleasures of the Flesh Ch 3

Part 2: Sweet Endings aka The Epilogue AO3 Fic Link

Part 3: Hunger. Smut. Jason has a sexual fantasy about Danny Written for Day 9 Dannymay2024 AO3 Link

Dannymay2024 AO3 Link

Day 2: Wish. Dead on Main Moodboard. Prayers are like wishes (you never know who's listening) so be careful for what you wish for.

Day 4: Wander. Dani Phantom Postcard. I'll wander far and long to where I wish to roam. But I won't forget to go and wander home Love, Dani

Day 9: Hunger. Dead on Main Smut.

Day 13: DnD AU. A Cleric casts Speak with Dead. The corpse's response is unusual. Pre-Everlasting Trio

Day 15: Field Trip. Everlasting Trio Field Trip through the Ghost Zone, ala Little Einsteins.

Patrol Partners 2024 AO3 Link

Need A Lift? A co-authored DPxDC Tim/Danny (Not Jason/Danny for once lol) fanfic. Aka the Brain Dead Meet Cute where where Tim and Danny are Trapped in An Elevator during a Rogue Attack.

Invisobang 2024 AO3 Link

Supernova Series A DPxDC Bang where The Fentons manage to create an interdimensional portal. But it wasn't to the Ghost Zone. At 14 years old, one teenage boy dies in a portal to Hueco Mundo.

The fic series where Danny Fenton is the freak accident to Kurosaki Ichigo's lab experiment, who's been living under the radar in Soul Society. At least until the Plot(TM) kicks off. Crossover Fusion with Bleach, that starts pre-Bleach Canon.

Ghouls and Gangs 2024 AO3 Link

In Death's Sweet Embrace: a Dead on Main, Hades and Persphone AU featuring non-traditional takes on A/B/O and the Sentinel&Guide AU

EctoImplosion 2024 AO3 Link

Forget-me-nots: Post-AGIT, Vlad has the niggling suspicion that he's forgotten something. Dan dismisses his concerns.

"If you forgot, I doubt it was something important." "Yeah, you're probably right," Vlad agrees.

Vlad only remembers what he forgot when Dani forcibly reminds him of her existence by crashing through his rooftop and into his and Dante's breakfast.

Tumblr Link

[1up-girl]

8,15,39 for tloz asks

8. Most underrated Zelda game?

I think I'd have to go with Minish Cap! I think because it's rather small compared to its predecessors, it's easily forgotten, but it's so charming and I loved playing it. MC Zelink is also so sweet!!

15. Favourite location within Hyrule?

Oh lord I thought this was going to be a decently easy question and then I started thinking.... When it comes to spending time places in game, the soundtrack also a major influence. Like, I love being in Gerudo Town at night because of the score, but I'm not sure I would give them same answer if I wasn't thinking musically.

It really depends on my mood, but I find the Faron region and the Spring of Courage really mysterious and interesting. Akkala is so cozy and I love the expanse of the hills. Central Hyrule (+ leaning east into Lanayru) makes me think of my earliest days of playing Breath of the Wild, which is a very special feeling.

Beyond BOTW, I also really love Clock Town in Majora's Mask.

39. Which Zelda game, in your opinion, had the most satisfying ending?

Tears of the Kingdom and it's not even close. Getting to actively participate in saving Zelda, having her retrieval be the ultimate goal of the game, (over defeating Ganondorf), redeeming her of her miserable fate in a way that makes sense, narratively speaking, that honestly kinda sexy rendition of Zelda's lullaby while they're sitting the field of forget-me-nots?? "Tadaima"??? LIKE, HELLO?? And all of that after an insanely epic final boss.

[mumusmarket]

Illustration for Cain of their OC & Nagi from 18trip! They requested a flower field while the two of them sit on a cliff drinking coffee! I tried to pick wild flowers that have positive meanings :3 Forget me nots, lupins, yarrow, carrot flowers, and one more that I can't recall! This illustration was $115!

Posted using PostyBirb

[korbeedon]

flower symbolism makes me very very happy. i have no idea why but it makes something in my brain work.

Started in Europe

Conflicting accounts for who was first to write

1. Catherine H. in 1839 “The Language of Flowers” found in her book on the language of flowers, Flora’s Lexicon

Based on the LOF in Victorian England, France, and America

2. Mme. Louise Cortambert (pseudonym “Charlotte de Latour”) in her book “Le 8Langage des fleurs” which translates to The Language of flowers. 

LOF is based on folklore, literature, mythology, religion, and the plant's physical characteristics. 

Symbolic association from Chinese, Japanese, Middle Eastern, Greek, and Roman cultures/mythology/religion

Literature from Shakespear

Turkish language of flowers and objects (Selam)

Taking Turkish words for different flowers and finding which other words they can rhyme with and making a sentence out of it. (Armonde (Pear) rhymes with omonde (hope) so a rhyme for these two words can be Armonde - Wer banna bir omonde (Pear - Let me not despair)

The Turkish language came to Europe through two people, Seigneur Aubry de la Mattraye and Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. Husband and wife. They were Turkish embassies that went before the court of Charles XII of Sweden and shared the language of objects and in this case flowers. 

Physical characteristics (root, stem, leaf, bloom?, and seed

Chrysanthemum/mums: A symbol of death and mourning, but also support and encouragement

Found in east Asia in grasslands, mountain slopes, riversides, fields, and seashores

In Europe, it means death because it was a commonly used flower to decorate graves in the 1700s. Asian Countries have a more positive meaning, used for family seals and pottery. (represents the turning of the seasons) November birth flower

Forget-me-nots: It can be used to symbolize remembrance – both during a parting or after death (bright blue flowers)

Europe, Asia, and Australia in wood/boggy areas

German folktale, where a dying knight threw flowers at his lady and said forget-me-not, the lady wore the flowers forever. 

Hyacinth: Sorrow, I am sorry. Please forgive me.

The Mediterranean and tropical Africa and woodlands

From greek mythology, where apollo and zephyrs killed Hyacinth and his remains were turned into purple hyacinth in the sorrow of his death. (slightly toxic)

Yellow Roses: Said to symbolize friendship

Mostly in Asia but in other places to

Yellow is a very positive and happy color, In Korean and Japanese culture, it was used as a symbol of jealousy. 

Daffodils: Symbols of rebirth and hope

Europe, Asia, Mediterranean meadows/woodland edges

The first flowers bloom in the spring, so it represents the new life after the winter months. March birth flower cause it usually blooms in march

Foxglove: Symbols of insecurity + many other things

Europe, the Mediterranean, and in woodlands

From Folk’s gloves (the fae folk), cautious tale to scare children from picking them. (Poisonous) also grown for the Virgin Mary (our lady’s gloves/gloves of the virgin)

Lily of the valley: Means the return of happiness

Eurasia, eastern North America, and in mountain forests

Used in religious ceremonies, it Represents Eve’s tears after she left the garden, the national flower of Finland, the May birth flower, is associated with Ostara, known for her humility (germanic mythology)

Baptisia (False/Wild Indigo): Symbolizes protection

Central and eastern north America near wood, meadows, stream

Associated with Venus (the Roman version of Aphrodite), (toxic but can be used as a noninflammatory, indigenous people use it for blue dye)

White orchids: symbolizes apology

Asia and in tropical forests

over 35,000 different varieties, based on the word orchis (which means testicles in greek because a writer said orchids looked like them) sign of wealth in the victorian era and in japan

Yarrow: symbolizes a wish for better health

Grasslands and forests, Eurasia

comes from the greek word here which means holy herb, neanderthals though they were a holy flower, druids used them in ceremonies, medieval Europe used them to exercise ghosts, dreaming means you'll receive good news, good for clotting blood

iris, arborvitae, and bluebell- are supposed to convey trust, friendship, and gratitude.

Carnations- innocence, remembrance

Hyacinths- deep sorrow, forgiveness, regret

White lilac- youthful innocence, new beginnings

Peonies- Family

Red roses- love, respect

Yellow rose- friendship

Blue tulip- peace and tranquility

Blue gladiolus- loyalty

Iris- hope

White tulip- I’m sorry

Lily- sympathy, innocence

Purple hyacinth- deep sorrow

[floristworld]

A Bouquet Inspired by the Rolling Fields of Ireland

There is a certain magic in the landscapes of Ireland—vast green fields stretching as far as the eye can see, kissed by mist and dotted with wildflowers swaying in the breeze. This untamed beauty serves as the perfect inspiration for a bouquet that captures the heart of the Emerald Isle, blending its rich textures and vibrant hues into a floral arrangement that feels both timeless and wild.

At the heart of this bouquet are lush green elements, echoing Ireland’s endless fields. Soft ferns, sprigs of eucalyptus, and trailing ivy create a foundation that mirrors the rolling hills. Among this greenery, delicate white blooms stand out—baby’s breath, white roses, and lisianthus, reminiscent of the mist that settles over the land at dawn. Pops of color emerge in the form of deep purple heather, a nod to the moors, and cheerful yellow buttercups, reminiscent of sunlit meadows after a gentle rain.

To complete the vision, a touch of blue thistle or forget-me-nots brings a hint of the rugged coastline, where the sea meets the sky in a breathtaking fusion of blues and grays. Bound together with a simple, rustic ribbon, this bouquet feels as though it was gathered on a peaceful morning walk through the countryside—a piece of Ireland’s soul woven into every petal and stem.

Whether gifted to a loved one or displayed as a reminder of nature’s quiet beauty, this bouquet tells a story of rolling fields, whispered legends, and the enduring charm of the Irish landscape. It is a tribute to a place where nature and poetry intertwine, captured in flowers that speak of wild beauty and deep-rooted traditions.