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foulserpent · 4 years

Text

ned has the most fleshed out history of any of my OCs. i typed it out over the past couple of days, theres some stufff missing but its over 2000 words as is.

here is neds life story prior to the oblviion crisis

ned was born in a village near falinesti’s summer rooting site. his father died before ned was born, and ned was raised by his mother and various farmhands in the community.

his mother was a farmer (though she had a shady past he was always peripherally aware of but never privy to), and they raised hogs and chickens for milk/meat/eggs and would be part of falenesti’s supply chain every year. niviiran also lived nearby, and the two were close friends throughout their childhood and adolescence.

“nasty ned” was in fact his birth name and a name he continued to use, though going by the latter part. he was never able to find out why his mother named him that. the name came in handy, given that ned is transgender and already had a fairly “masculine” name. he was recognized as a boy since he was around 10, but his mother was unable to afford the hormone replacement potions until his later teens.

when ned was 16, he started taking jobs at falenesti, mostly as a bouncer at its taverns. he had been a bit of a nervous child before that and to this day isnt sure why he chose that line of work, but it toughened him up considerably.

when he was about 20, his friend niviiran was being heavily pressured into marrying off to secure her family’s inherited silk business. niviiran saw this as the only chance to escape her emotionally abusive parents, and proposed the notion of entering into a (false) marriage with ned until she could get away. he agreed, both desiring to help his friend and hoping to benefit from niviiran’s far wealthier parents.

during this time, he had his first Actual intimate relationship, but it only lasted about a week. he had picked up a girlfriend at his job, but being emotionally immature and a bit of a dick, he thought that he did not need to inform her that he was TECHNICALLY married, since the marriage was fake and him and niv both did not mind. she left when he found out.

this marriage fell apart within a year, largely as a result of ned panicking and letting it slip while drunk at a gathering with niv’s family. this caused a huge commotion mostly directed at him (and was worsened by his continued panicking), and culminated in niviiran’s brother beating him and attempting to run him over with a horse as he fled. his leg was badly crushed and was saved by his mother.

though their marriage was fake, niviiran and ned had a real falling out as a result of this. both obviously felt bad for the harm to the other, but niv was very angry at ned for having let it slip and putting her in the position of having to run away from her controlling parents rather than leave freely. ned at the time was surprised and hurt that she was so mad, having taken her friendship for granted, and responded in kind. they separated angrily and did not see each other again after that point, and the way he treated niv is one of his first and biggest regrets.

after his leg was mostly healed, he decided he wanted to leave valenwood, at least for a while. he had developed some skill as a bodyguard, and managed to get himself hired to guard a merchant caravan that looped through valenwood, elsweyr, and cyrodiil. this was the time where he really came into his own in mercenary type fields, learning to use swords/shields/armor and how to hold his own against much larger foes. he also learned how to cook at this time, and had his first boyfriend. this relationship was not serious and did not last past ned’s contract with the caravan, but was significant and fondly remembered.

he chose not to continue as a caravan guard, and became interested in mercenary work instead. he joined up with cyrodiil’s fighters guild, and spent the next decade or so working for them. late in this period, he was subcontracted out to mainland morrowind on a longterm job as a hired guard. during this time, he met and began a relationship with yaksha gra-dralas, a morag tong agent. their relationship lasted about three years until ned’s contract ended. it was somewhat serious, but neither felt it was working out well enough to continue (and neds ass was too small). they went their separate ways, and ned returned to cyrodiil.

ned continued working for the fighters guild for an indeterminite amount of years, culminating in the events of oblivions fighters guild questline occurring. when ned was demoted for the death of the guildmaster’s son that he had nothing to do with, he decided that the guild was going to shit and that he was leaving. he resigned, and spent a few years hiring himself out independently as a mercenary or whatever else was paying.

eternally bad at settling, he became unsatisfied and decided to move again. he moved to vvardenfell, where he would live for the next 30 years or so. during this time, he joined their chapter of the fighters guild, took many odd jobs, and became more radicalized against the empire than he had already been (which was a lot).

notably, in the latter half of his time there, he met the disowned son of a hlaalu nobleman named ondryn. he and ondryn were assigned together on a longterm fighters guild job out in the wilderness, and began a relationship that would last a decade. it was ned’s longest relationship, and also the first one that he seriously considered the possibility of being permanent and settling with. he had loved all his partners before this, but ondryn was very special to him and brought out something much more serious in him.

it was this relationship that would also lead to ned’s involvement with daedric cults. ondryn was dissident against the tribunal and a follower of azura, boethiah, and mephala. this was just casual everyday worship, but the two joined an active sect of boethiah worshippers (at least partially trying to impress each other). ned had never been religiously motivated and believed that gods were not owed worship any more than anyone else, but was drawn to the “good daedra” for their seemingly mutually beneficial relationship with mortals.

ned was never the most devoted of boethiah’s sect, but through skill and luck he continuously proved himself worthy, and eventually was challenged to and won a tournament of 10 bloods. he was granted a title as champion of boethiah, and bestowed with the artifact goldbrand.

for a while, he proved himself worthy by continuing to maintain his position and defeat any challenger who came his way. but at one point, he was successfully kidnapped along with a fellow boethiah worshipper to be sacrificed to molag bal. he managed to free himself of his binds and escape, and came back with reinforcements to slaughter the rest of molag bal’s faithful, but it was too late for his friend.

this was the first decidedly traumatic incident of his life, and marked the beginning of a slow downturn of his life and his mental health. he was wracked with guilt at having left his friend to die, and was beginning to realize he wasnt really cut out for the whole champion of boethiah thing, rightfully fearing that he had lost favor for this weakness. in a stupid move (that would turn out smart in the long run in bargaining for his soul back), he kept goldbrand but fled with ondryn from the cult, ghosting boethiah and just hoping it wouldnt come back to bite him.

the blight was also worsening in vvardenfell at this point, with things beginning to get pretty scary. ned had repeatedly expressed desire for him and ondryn to flee vvardenfell, but the latter saw all this as just another crisis that would pass with time, and ned accepted this. around the time of the beginning of morrowind’s events, ondryn fell sick after an encounter with one of the ash creatures from red mountain. when it became obvious and undeniable that it was corprus, ondryn resigned himself to dying and asked of ned to help him be properly cremated and interred in his family tomb. all of ondryn’s living relatives had disowned him, but he still desired to be buried in his rightful place.

agreeing to this was the hardest thing ned had ever done. ondryn said goodbye and took poison, and ned was left alone to burn and lay his body to rest. he almost couldnt bring himself to do it, but eventually succeeded. after it was done, ned remained in the tomb for a few days, catatonic and just waiting to see if he would show symptoms himself. when it became clear that he had not contracted corprus, he considered suicide but became disgusted with himself and decided against it.

he remained in vvardenfell for a short while after this, but when his beloved guar (“jelly”) passed away of old age (mercifully peacefully), he decided enough was enough, and returned to cyrodiil. he had a couple of brief encounters with a person who he would later learn was the nerevarine, and left only weeks before the defeat of dagoth ur.

upon returning to cyrodiil, he was in a rut. he had become near-broke, had newly acquired mental health issues, had a constant fear of boethiah sending prospective champions after him, and had nothing to do with himself. he settled into the imperial city waterfront as a squatter, and attempted to join the thieves guild, but failed the initiation. desperate, he began thieving on his own, sometimes doing jobs for others and sometimes just to have money to get by.

he took a very large risk in agreeing to steal and imperial watch captain’s heirloom sword, and was captured in the act. he resisted arrest and injured the captain, and the captain personally intervened to get him a much steeper sentence than he otherwise would have. he was put into the imperial city prison for a few weeks, before being transferred to the arena and being put to work as a gladiator.

this was essentially a death sentence, with no determined ending besides dying in the arena. he met shap-mota here, a bard who had been blamed for a string of brutal assaults in spite of being pretty unquestionably Not the culprit. the two of them had an intimate relationship throughout this time, and struck up a friendship, but they were under a painful and unusual situation and it could not really be called a romantic relationship.

for a time, ned was managing well. he managed to get some serious dirt on one of the guard captains and effectively blackmail him. he wasnt able to secure his freedom, but was able to force his hand into giving him his sword (goldbrand) back and giving him and shap a bit more leeway as prisoners. having goldbrand is likely the only reason he survived and won all his death matches, but his uncooperativeness and humiliation of a few of the guards gave them a massive grudge.

after about 5 months, shap narrowly won a match, but had been gravely injured in the process and collapsed. ned last saw him being dragged out from the arena, and never saw anything that would indicate shap being alive, and had to assume he died. things got really bad after that, with ned having no buffer against the ire of the guards and other prisoners. he lost his blackmailing opportunity (though was allowed to keep goldbrand, due to the crowd loving his signature flaming sword) and was given absolutely terrible treatment from his captors.

he became incredibly disgusted with being forced to kill other prisoners and enraged at challengers who fought willingly. as he rose in the ranks, he was kept going by not knowing what else to do and by a grim satisfaction at murdering people who willingly chose to be combatants. this was very traumatizing.

ned achieved champion rank, though he almost lost his final match. his opponent disarmed him and instead of killing him, gloated and slashed at him with goldbrand, ripping his abdomen open and giving him his biggest scars. ned managed to take him by surprise and kill his opponent before passing out from shock and blood loss.

he woke up a day later to find he had been released. evidently, no one expected him to live that long and it was decided he might as well be let go. ned already had trauma to deal with, but was suddenly experiencing very unusual and new symptoms (which was ptsd and an anxiety disorder) that he had no idea what to do with. he was also convinced that his challenger was there on boethiah’s behalf, though he cant be sure of that, and the fear of being killed and left to the daedra who probably owned his soul took hold of him again.

he had been given some prize money, and he collected himself and left. he moved into kvatch, and rented an attic from some dunmer in exchange for proofreading his stupid “opus” about him killing all the cliff racers or whatever.

ned spent a few years in a haze, kind of just drifting through life, getting into shit here and there. there was an “incident” involving the towns blacksmith at the general store, and he was not arrested but was considered to owe a favor to the town’s watch captain due to the chaotic results that few dare to speak of.

this favor was finally cashed in when kvatch was burnt down by mehrune’s dagons invasion force and they needed someone to try and close the gate, and lo and behold here comes ned “owes a favor” nasty and some argonian from out of town who just kind of wandered in.

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twiceblackvelvet · 4 years

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Soulmates?

requested!

Early rises and strolls to work for the opening shift are far more pleasant than imaginable. The sun rising slowly over the horizon whilst the pathways are clear of other people and hardly any cars noisily taking up road space. It’s calming, beautiful, in fact, to see the change in hues in the sky from a deep orange to a lighter yellow once it’s high enough above everything else. A camera roll full of pictures taken with the beams blazing down could never possibly do it justice, but it does help take off some of the chills during the winter months just looking at them.

It’s quite an easy job, truth be told, the only complication that ever presents itself is through difficult customers and they are few and far between thankfully. Doing the rounds to turn on all of the appliances and the fridge lights is a welcomed routine compared to the never-ending cleaning that comes with a closing shift. It should be a world record how long it takes to hoover the floors, mop them, and then try not to mess up all of that hard work by creating a shoe path through the wet flooring.

For the last six months, Mina has been working at the convenience store, and taking on every single shift her schedule will allow whilst still trying to continue her studies. Serving customers isn’t the be-all and end-all but she is grateful to have been offered the position with no experience in hospitality whatsoever. The owners had recently had to let go of one of their original employees after he was caught taking money from the register thus she was hired before even sitting the interview out of desperation to replace him.

Whilst there are a few customers who are tough to deal with, there are also the locals who are always full of small snippets about their lives, or, will simply offer a courteous smile if their own day is not going as planned. Her favorite, however, is watching all the young and in love couples enter the store together, there’s something about watching their small yet romantic gestures toward one another, and whilst the green-eyed monster known as jealousy would rear its head for anyone else, Mina merely longs to feel what they are one day with her true love.

A soulmate is a difficult thing to explain to anyone which is why it is taught and told from such a young age. The idea that there is one single individual wandering this Earth who is meant to be just as in love with you as you are them, and no one else seems unreasonable or forceful at best. Every relationship in life is significant and can work if each of you put in the work to make sure that it lasts. Just look at how often people will get attached to celebrity relationships, only for them to break up a few years down the line and people are convinced love isn’t real. In fact, there are many people during her life who have told her it was a crazy idea to hold out for ‘the one’.

However, Mina has always been a hopeless romantic and never been able to grasp the concept of dating multiple people when there is a very clear sign on her right hand linking her to the one she’s meant to be with. The one who will offer her a tingling feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever they exchange so much as a glance. The one who she’ll meet for the first time and something inside of her will click, telling her that they are the one for her. The one who will offer her endless reassurance whenever things in life get difficult. She’s always wanted it all, and more. But, they’ve yet to enter her life and whisk her off her feet.

Her mother would often share tales about meeting her father when they were younger, both of them too scared to reveal their markings, both of which being on their legs in the shape of a tiny rocket, to confirm what they had believed to be true, that they are soulmates. But, one day her father invited her mother to a break from an intense study session by going into his pool. They had both completely forgotten about having not shown their markings but as it turned out, they were the exact same. It was always Mina’s favorite bedtime story to hear about how her parents fell in love with each other, their own firm belief in soulmates only furthering her desire to find her own.

There were plenty of people during her early years that Mina thought were going to be the one, and rather than following entirely in her parents’ footsteps, she’d find any excuse to look at people’s right hand, such as holding their hand as she grabbed a skipping rope from them, or even going as far as gifting the girl next door an orange every single day on the bus to school until one day she took it with her right one. All of which failed miserably but she never gave up hope that one day it would simply happen without her having to think too much about it.

A small four-leaf clover resting directly in the palm of her right hand. It’s beautiful, and Mina often finds herself tracing it back and forth whenever she’s bored. Her father had explained to her that it must mean her life with her soulmate will be full of luck, but finding them alone will require a lot of luck, Mina isn’t so sure she’ll be gifted any more beyond that.

Today is no different from every other morning shift, no one bothers to enter for at least the first hour which means restocks and ordering anything that appears to be running low. The higher shelves she has to grab the old wooden ladders from the storeroom in the back, which, she’s convinced are going to one day give way and break causing her to crash through the display behind her. However, the manager, Mr. Kim, no matter how many times she asks him to get some new ladders simply states that he’s going to soon. When soon is exactly, Mina has no idea but she doubts it will be soon.

“Is anyone working?” A high-pitched voice calls out close to the counter. From her spot on the bottom rung of the ladders, Mina can only just say make out some brown hair.

The bell for the door to signal a customer had entered has clearly not done its job as Mina quickly rushes around to see who it is that’s waiting for her. Fortunately, it isn’t one of the angry customers who no doubt would have put in a complaint about her for not being at the counter, but instead, it’s Sana who works in the coffee shop just up the street and often calls in for a morning visit when they’re both on earlies. Mina thinks Sana has a sixth sense about this because they’ve never formally exchanged schedules with one another nor do they know each other beyond each other’s respective workplaces.

Sana’s own soul mark is directly under her left eye, a small golden star with sparks flying off of it. Mina adores it and finds that it makes Sana’s already beautiful eyes even more charming to look at.

“Ah, there you are Mina. Here, I brought you your usual. If the morning is kicking my ass, I know it is for you too.” Sana says as she hands over Mina’s usual order of an americano. Her eyes look tired and Mina can tell she isn’t fully present as of yet. “What were you doing? Do you know the bell is broken?”

“Restocks,” She quickly takes a sip of the piping hot drink, Sana subconsciously doing the same but regretting it when it burns her tongue a little. “Thank you for this. It was warm out on my walk-in but those clouds look threatening.” The pair of them look out the window to see the sky now lacking the sun-flamed sky that Mina adores and replaced by dark, overcast clouds. “No, I didn’t know the bell was broken until now, it seems everything is falling apart in here.”

“Did you get your new ladders yet?”

“Nope.” Mina pauses to look back toward where they’re just standing in the middle of an aisle and gives herself a mental reminder to move them once Sana leaves. “I’m thinking about just fetching my own in from home, we’re never going to get them and now, the bell probably won’t be fixed for the foreseeable.”

Sana’s eyes follow Mina’s toward the aisles and then drift up toward the bell above the door. She places her cup down onto the counter and taps Mina’s hand to get her attention back on herself.

“Don’t bring your own. I might know someone who can bring you some and fix the doorbell, you’ll still be here at 1 PM, right?”

“Yeah, I finish at 3, but you know he’ll never agree to pay for any repairs Sana, and especially not ones he hasn’t personally authorized”

“Don’t worry about it Mina, she owes me a favor anyway. Just take it as yet another act of kindness from your favorite and prettiest barista.” Sana chortles, fluttering her eyelashes.

“Oh, Jeongyeon is going to get some new ladders for me? I didn’t realize that’s what you meant.” Mina jokes knowing just how to make Sana a little jealous.

“Very funny, you know I meant myself, not her… Though now you’ve said it, you’re right, it could have meant her.” There’s a quick flash of Sana’s eyes unfocusing and drifting off likely to thoughts of her co-worker who she’s been dating for around a year. They aren’t soulmates but Jeongyeon isn’t a believer and Sana thinks she has too much love to give for one person. However, Mina has often caught Jeongyeon tenderly stroking Sana’s soul mark whenever they believe no one is around.

“Who is it?” Mina queries upon realizing Sana never said who it was that would be her savior.

“Hm? Oh… right. Don’t worry about it, just a friend of mine who can repair it for you.” Sana quickly looks up toward the clock on the back wall and picks her cup up from the counter before shifting toward the door, bell once again not working when she opens it. “Okay, I gotta go but 1 PM, be here not hiding in an aisle, or next time I might just snitch to Mr. Kim. Bye!” She shouts heading out before Mna can say goodbye in return.

It’s a fairly easy day, the weather does indeed end up turning sour as a downpour quickly starts not long after Sana had left and doesn’t ease up even for a second. There are only a handful of customers who enter and the majority of them are simply trying to escape the rain, which Mina is supposed to ask whether they’re going to purchase anything or not but she doesn’t have the heart to force them out into the cold, thus there was at one point just a collective of people stood by the door hoping for a dry spell that never arrives. They do all fortunately shuffle off one by one, all of which running to their cars or the next building for shelter.

By the time 1 PM rolls around, Mina had completely forgotten about her conversation with Sana. The ongoing entertainment of watching people force their jackets up over their heads whilst trying not to walk into streetlights had provided enough of a distraction for her. So, when someone with their coat up over their head holding a pair of ladders enters the shop, Mina simply believes they’re a customer.

The coat comes down to rest around her shoulders and reveals a face that is small yet striking. Eyes dark and wide, nose bright red from the cold, and the rest of her skin an olive color. She’s tall, quite tall in fact as she stands above the very ladders she’s holding around her left arm. A toolkit rests in her right hand, it’s small but looks heavy, however, if it is, the girl doesn’t let on as she carries it easily. Her frame hidden by the huge coat slumped around her but Mina finds her breathtaking and can’t quite remove her eyes from her face.

“Um… hello?” The girl waves a hand in front of Mina’s face dragging her out of the hypnosis she’s sure this girl had just put her under. “Are you Mina?” Yet again, Mina drifts off elsewhere upon hearing her name exit this girl’s mouth so softly.

“Y-Yes... I am… Mina. Yes. Sorry. I’m Mina.” She stutters, quickly trying to make even a slight bit of sense.

“Yeah, I got it the first time. Sana told me you need some ladders and your doorbell is broke?” The girl poses as a question but quickly gets to work looking at the doorbell which isn’t far away from her head but Mina would struggle to get anywhere close to reaching it. “Those are yours, by the way.” She points toward the ladders. They’re brand new, metal. Far sturdier than the wooden ones.

“Thank you, um…” Mina hesitates, realizing she hadn’t asked for the girl’s name as of yet, nor did Sana tell her who she was.

“Tzuyu.” She states flatly, never bothering to look back toward Mina whose eyes are piercing through the back of Tzuyu’s head never moving.

It doesn’t take her long to fix the doorbell. The batteries inside had managed to corrode and damaged some of the inner-wirings but luckily, Tzuyu had some spare on hand in her toolbox and got it back to signaling the door opening and closing in no time. Mina has no idea what Tzuyu has just technically done as she’s never been the most gifted when it comes to repairs, however, watching her weave the wiring together and connect all of the pieces back together certainly looked impressive.

There’s an awkward silence for a second as Tzuyu steps away from the door to finally look at Mina once again, neither of them knowing how to finish off this unpaid transaction of services.

“Um… Thank you,” Mina starts, but is unsure how to continue, just knows that she wants to continue talking. “So, Sana said you’re doing this as a favor to her?” Mina tries to ask, Tzuyu, however, moves to retrieve her toolkit from the ground.

“Yes. She’s a good friend.” Tzuyu says coldly, turning toward the door to leave but then swiftly back to the counter. “It was… It was nice to meet you, Mina.” Her voice more upbeat this time, yet forced as she outstretches her right hand in front of Mina.

Without hesitating, Mina grasps her hand in her own in a handshake. However, her skin immediately feels an electric shock the second their palms connect with one another, and Mina is stunned into just standing there frozen. Tzuyu is the first to pull her hand away which startles Mina back to reality realizing she wasn’t alone in feeling it. But, before she’s given the opportunity to talk to the girl in front of her the small four-leaf clover resting in the center of Tzuyu’s palm quietens any words that were close to escaping leaving them stuck in her throat.

Tzuyu catches sight of Mina’s same soul mark and immediately rushes out of the door and away from her without a word.

A big part of Mina is telling her not to be stupid, telling her not to risk her job by chasing after her and potentially being seen as a weird stalker. However, the other side that desperately wants to figure out if this moment is the one she’s been searching for, the one she’s been seeking since the very first time she was even told about soulmates. With the consequences for her actions at the very back of her head, she dashes out of the door following Tzuyu and runs to catch up with her, stopping outside of the coffee shop where Sana works as she grabs onto Tzuyu’s arm to stop her, the same shock feeling coursing across her skin as she does so.

“You have it too and you feel it. Tell me… that you feel that.” Mina huffs out, breath struggling to catch up to her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tzuyu blurts out hurriedly upon noticing some eyes starting to watch on, her own eyes refusing to look at Mina. “Let me go.”

“No, I know you feel it. I saw you pull away just before… and you have the same mark like me. You know what this means, right?”

The silence between them returns as both Sana and Jeongyeon exit the coffee shop together to watch the interaction between the two girls unfold, a few people stop in the middle of the street to eavesdrop in, one of them even pulling out their phone to record it. Jeongyeon moves to ask them to put their phone away and they reluctantly comply.

“Is everything okay, Mina?” Sana asks.

“Yes, Sana, everything is fine.” Tzuyu answers for her. “Go back inside.”

The two girls shuffle back into the coffee shop, however, they remain by the door just in case whatever is happening between Mina and Tzuyu goes further downhill than it clearly already is even if neither of them will say why.

“Please, just say something… I know you have it too.”

“Look, Mina… I don’t know what kind of fantasy world you’ve created for yourself inside your head that you so clearly live in… but just because you have the same tiny little mark as someone doesn’t mean anything. Yes, everyday people rely on such a silly little thing to determine their entire lives, and good for them if that’s what they want. But it isn’t for me. You’re not for me.” Tzuyu’s voice cold and without any emotion whatsoever, and yet Mina can feel every single emotion inside herself all at once fighting for dominance over which one will retort back to her.

“But…” Mina barely whispers, unable to form a full sentence.

“But nothing, we just met.. You can’t really believe that we’re now supposed to spend the rest of our lives together because of that one single moment.” Tzuyu pauses, waiting to see if Mina will answer before continuing when she doesn’t. “Plus… I already… I already have a girlfriend.”

For the first time in her life, doubt about who she is supposed to spend her life with has managed to creep up and break down all of the previous standards for love Mina had put. Her hand uncurls itself from around Tzuyu’s arm and she sinks down to the floor because she’s right. All this time, Mina thought that having a soulmate or one set person who you’re supposed to always be with was how life is supposed to be, giving it far too much control and power over her to the point where she has likely pushed away plenty of others who would have no doubt made her happy, made her fall in love, and made her look forward to her future.

Instead, she’s given all of the power and control to someone she hadn’t even met yet. Now that she has, she realizes her mistake because Tzuyu could never be the one for her, even if the mark is there. They are not compatible whatsoever, not at this moment. Perhaps, during different times in their lives, they could be perfect for one another, and perhaps they could live out all of the things Mina has dreamed about. But Tzuyu is taken, and Mina is too much of a fantasist.

Mina can feel Sana and Jeongyeon slowly raise her up off the ground, however, her entire focus is on Tzuyu’s retreating figure walking away from her down the street. She can hear them talking to her and asking what has happened but her throat is unable to produce sound. Everything feels so cold and as if she’s surrounded by emptiness.

Perhaps, there is no such thing as soulmates after all. Perhaps, there never will be.

#twice imagines #twice scenarios #mina imagines #tzuyu imagines #mitzu #mina x tzuyu #kpop imagines #girl group imagines #kpop scenarios #girl group scenarios #twice angst #twice fic #mina #tzuyu #myoui mina #chou tzuyu

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dracoqueen22 · 3 years

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For SunnySidesofBlue who requested more Consort AU? First meeting between Optimus and Chromia, ending with him telling her to go find Ironhide?

Permissions

Chromia is there when Optimus Prime arrives home, Consorts in his wake. There’s an array of guards around her, not to mention those stationed along the route between the Prime Manor and the Prime Estate.

She’d wasted no time in reorganizing the Primal Guard upon her arrival, appalled at the disorganized state of it, and the general lack of discipline in those who are part of the guard. She has a list of those she intends to retire, and those she hopes to hire in replacement, but it must be approved by the Prime before she can fully enact the changes.

She hopes Optimus Prime is reasonable.

She stands at the foot of the ramp leading up into the Manor, at ease but paying attention to her surroundings. The Prime has not had chance to make too many enemies yet, but Chromia would rather be cautious.

He has also not made an enemy of her yet, and whether or not he will remains to be seen.

Optimus Prime is the first to disembark, stepping from the shuttle with a small smile on his face, his armor gleaming in the overhead lights. He is a larger mech -- larger than her -- but he carries himself like a civilian. He doesn’t have the presence of a warrior, not like her Ironhide.

He approaches her, hand extended, and says, “You must be Chromia. It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

Chromia lifts her chin, returns the gesture. His grip, at least, is firm. “I appreciate the opportunity you’ve given me,” she says, and tries not to make it obvious that she’s trying to look past him. It’s not Ironhide who emerges next, however, it’s the shuttle, Skyfire.

She’s made it a point to look into and study the other nine Consorts. Their connections might also be a danger for Optimus Prime, or for their fellow Consorts. Chromia knows to consider all angles, and keeping Optimus Prime and his Consorts safe, means keeping Ironhide safe as well.

She has to admit, she admires Optimus Prime’s prudence. One way to ensure his own protection is to hire someone who’s deeply invested in the safety of one of his Consorts.

“I could think of none other more qualified,” Optimus Prime says. He releases her hand and tucks his behind his back. “Would you walk with me?”

Damn.

“Of course.” She smiles, casts one more glance over her shoulder, but next to disembark is Ratchet and Prowl, not her Ironhide.

She falls into step beside Optimus Prime, nodding at Moonracer -- her current second in command. This has been the only appointment she was allowed to make without the Prime’s approval.

Moonracer will watch over the Consorts while Chromia goes with Optimus Prime. She’ll also let Chromia know when Ironhide disembarks, and if he’s in any condition other than perfect health.

“If there is anything you need to do your job effectively, please let me know. I will ensure you have access to it,” Optimus Prime says as they head into the Manor proper, the vast entryway threatening to swallow their voices.

“Complete control over my staff would be appreciated,” Chromia says.

Optimus Prime heads to the lift, and while they wait, he looks at her, confused. “You should already have it.”

It takes all Chromia has not to scowl. “I don’t.”

Irritation flickers in the Prime’s field before it’s gone again. “It may be some vestigial request of my predecessor. I will ensure control of the staff reverts to you.”

“Thank you,” Chromia says.

The lift arrives, taking them upward, to what seems to be Optimus’ office. She’s been here long enough to familiarize herself with the floorplan. Moonracer pings her mere seconds after they step out of the lift.

“He looks whole and well, Chromia. He and the medic have become friends, it seems.”

Chromia pings back her gratitude, but keeps her focus on Optimus Prime.

“Is there anything else?” Optimus Prime asks as he opens the office and gestures her inside. She follows, standing at rest in front of his desk while he moves behind it.

Chromia lifts her chin and cycles a ventilation. She has been rehearsing this moment in her head since she agreed to take this position, and she won’t falter now. “I’d like to know what restrictions you have for me.”

“Restrictions?” He cycles his optics, his expression one of genuine confusion.

She works her jaw. “With Ironhide,” Chromia says, though voicing the clarification threatens to make the anger burn in her belly all over again. “He was promised to me before, and while I understand he is yours now, I want to make sure I don’t cross some sort of line in my interactions with him.”

It hurts to say that much. Because all she wants to do is reclaim Ironhide, pull him back into her arms, and keep him forever. She can’t do that, however, so it’s best to know what little piece of him she can have.

A little has to be better than nothing.

Understanding lights Optimus Prime’s optics. He nods and looks up at her and says, “There are no restrictions.” She cycles her audials, convinced she’s heard wrong, when he continues without prompting, “I don’t wish to keep you from Ironhide. We’ve both done our parts to satisfy the requirements of the connection. As far as I am concerned, you two are free to pursue your prior relationship.”

Chromia stares at him. She still isn’t sure she’s believing her audials. She senses nothing but sincerity in Optimus’ tone -- and can’t think why he’d lie to her anyway. What would be the purpose save to be cruel? And if he were such a cruel mech, how could his Consorts disembark from the transport looking genuinely happy?

“To clarify,” Chromia says, carefully, slowly, trying not to quash the ember of hope wrapped around her spark, “I can be with him?”

“Yes.” Optimus Prime produces a datapad from subspace, which he pushes across the desk toward her. “Our bond is one of politics. He is free to form one of love with whomever he chooses.” He taps the datapad. “It is here, in writing, for reassurance.”

Try as she might, Chromia cannot find the words.

She’d expected to be told she could only interact with Ironhide in a professional manner. She’d half-expected she couldn’t be in the same room as him. At best, she’d hoped they’d be allowed to have a friendship.

This.

This is beyond her wildest imaginings.

She takes the datapad.

“You know which quarters are his, yes?” Optimus Prime says. “I think he’d be happy if you surprised him.”

Chromia clutches the datapad like a lifeline. “He doesn’t know?”

“Not in so many words.” Optimus Prime’s smile is a gentle thing. Genuine even. “I thought I’d let you share the news. We can talk more later.”

“Yes, sir.”

Chromia doesn’t linger. If the Prime finds her rude, he can chastise her later. She needs to see Ironhide for herself, see that he’s well, and hear it from his own mouth before she can let herself be at ease.

It has to be a miracle.

***

#Chromia #Optimus Prime #The Prime's Consorts #Consortium AU #Consortium #Transformers #transformers fanfic #draco loves to chat #draco writes fanfic #unedited raw fic #flash fiction fills #open mic night answers

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neednothavehappenedtobetrue · 3 years

Text

under the cut, a long update on Today When A Dude From Work Yelled At Me

tl;dr my boss is being even more spineless than usual, has explicitly told his two disabled female direct reports that if we experience more ableist nonsense from some guy who has already yelled at us he will not intervene or back us up because “conflict is healthy”

however, the director of another team was also there and at least she is not spineless!

also I fully hate my job and have resigned from interviewing applicants for staff positions here, because I’m worried that the next time someone asks what it’s like to work here I will tell them.

(I do know that “previously never having been yelled at in your workplace” is a big privilege few people have and I know I sound here a bit like my boss does every time he goes “wow I didn’t realize there was so much ableism,”)

(also yeah, he has repeatedly this week been like “I’m so surprised that ableism is so entrenched and people are so unwilling to talk about it,” and it’s like, buddy, you are surprised all by yourself here)

anyway, this meeting’s key players:

-my boss

-me

-my favorite coworker, who does a similar job to mine

-the woman who does my boss’s job, but in Canada

-the woman who does my job, but in Canada

-the jackass who yelled at us

-two women from his team, neither of whom said much, although one of them did decide, at a point well after her team member literally yelled at us, that the conversation was “over time, we’ve gotta go” and ended the call abruptly.

(I would pay money to see any backchannel conversations those team members were having during this call, like, do they totally agree that we’re being Extreme and Adversarial or are they like “uh, buddy, maybe we could back this up a step?” do the two women have a chat thread the asshole’s not in and what does it say?

but also I don’t need them to see the backchannel my team had that started out with “this is a lot of jargon, what does this mean?” and finished with, like, it’s a work software and if they wanted to IT could see it so there’s a line to be mindful of, but there was mild snark all around, and a few instances of me using the word “buddy” in the way where I would use “asshole” on a non-work chat software.

(Cool Colleague and I did at one point start a text message thread on our personal phones that’s just completely impolitic and 50% full-on swearing)

I would not be delighted if other people saw our Teams backchannel, but I would be willing to defend all of it, if I had to.

we haven’t fired one lady for “bullying other team members so bad that two of them quit explicitly because of her bullying and said so on the record,” so I feel like “being sarcastic on the work chat” is not a firing offense here.

also, like, they’d have to fire at least 2/3 of my department, which would be… kind of hilarious, actually? no one of us is individually irreplaceable, but if our whole department collapsed it would be a Bad Time For Everyone.

Cool Coworker is for SURE quitting as soon as she can line something up, so probably she’ll be replaced before I quit, but also, do you know how funny it would be if we quit simultaneously and the whole office was like “oh fuck, we needed those two people pretty bad, actually, maybe we should have done something the fifth or sixth time they said they were feeling undervalued and demoralized? whoops!”

anyway, as I said earlier, this meeting consisted of our three person team, the two-person team who does our job in Canada, and the team of which Yelling Man is the director

(today I learned that Yelling Man actively wants to quit working here, but can’t because “the CEO won’t let him,” is that a thing? how does that work? I’m sorry you hate it here, buddy, but you still can’t yell at me)

anyway, Canada’s department head had to leave the meeting early (by which I mean like 30 minutes after it was supposed to end, it continued after that) so I think she missed the yelling (now I wish she hadn’t, I feel like she was the person most likely to say “guy, you’re yelling at us, what if you didn’t?)

so the meeting ended, we debriefed.

I asked my boss to interrupt this guy if he raises his voice in future meetings. my boss said no, because conflict is healthy

I asked my boss if he would back me up/cover for me if I need to leave a meeting for 90 seconds to calm down because a dude is yelling at me. no, he will not do that either, because conflict is healthy.

there will be at least one additional meeting on this subject with a dude who yelled at us for calling out ableism and my boss has informed his two junior female disabled staff members that if this guy yells ableist nonsense at us a second time, he will do literally nothing to intervene or help us and he won’t try to call out this guy on how he behaved today, either.

I do genuinely appreciate the vast amount of off-the-record paid sick time I’ve gotten, but also, I am maybe ready to stop saying “my boss is so great, but sometimes…”

like, my boss is a spineless asshole, but sometimes he does nice things.

anyway! you know who is <not> a spineless asshole? the head of the department from Canada! she missed the yelling, but noticed how needlessly hostile and also incredibly ableist this dude was being, so she got the other Canadian to fill her in on the part she missed.

she is horrified and using words like “harassment”

she wants the folks on my team to meet with her individually to discuss and document how inappropriate this guy was, so she can do something about it.

I don’t know what our options are. despite being an org with somewhere in the neighborhood of 250 staff, I’m not sure we have an HR department?

we have the Talent people, who oversee our definitely garbage probably illegal hiring process (with interview questions like “what is your relationship with your mother like?” and “oh, but aren’t most disabled advocates just so mean all the time?”) so my hope is we can get Almost Anyone Else, but I don’t think there’s anyone else, it’s probably them.

-the Integrity team might be good, but as far as I know the three members of that team either just quit, are secretly quitting very soon, or are on sabbatical, and also I think they deal more with legal issues than just “some asshole yelling at work”

-and there’s Yelling Man’s boss, our CEO, who is not… famous for being a reasonable guy with a good understanding of workplace norms, acceptable behavior, nuance, etc. he’s also the guy who refuses to let Yelling Man quit, so I don’t know if he would be at all helpful here

but at least somebody is trying!

also, for a while I was interviewing candidates for jobs here, and I thought I could do a little bit of harm reduction. I would skip the wildly inappropriate interview questions, and I would be as honest as possible with people who asked what it was like to work here.

a woman I interviewed in January is quitting as soon as she can because it sucks so much here. her job is to tell people when we’re breaking the law, usually in ways related to privacy laws, but also I think some equity stuff.

I knew when I interviewed her that her job in particular would suck, I watched how people treated the other people who did it, ignoring them at best, belittling them sometimes. fuck rules, we’re innovators!

I definitely told her we had some strong personalities and it wouldn’t be an easy job.

in the meeting where everyone who interviewed her met to make a decision a dude tried to stop us hiring her because, essentially, fuck rules, we’re innovators, why do we need someone who cares about complying?

-the boss of her team, who has since quit, was like “we probably should try not to break the law, though”

so she got hired and now both of them are quitting because it sucks here and I feel complicit in getting her here.

- so I’m resigning from doing interviews with job candidates, theoretically because of “limited capacity” but actually because if someone asks me what it’s like to work here, I will not be able to hedge, I will absolutely be like “it sucks so much to work here. we do occasionally manage to do good work, but the process of making that happen in this incredibly dysfunctional environment grinds down staff. it is bad to work here, I am quitting the second I can, go somewhere else”

and, like, if I got lucky I could get away with that once, and also it would be a fun way to get fired, but instead of that I’m just not helping bring on staff anymore, because it makes me feel complicit when this place grinds them down”

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starlocked01 · 4 years

Text

Sweet Dreams are Made of This

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary: All Remus ever needed was his life of adventure, being chased from port to port with his brother by his side. No soulmate could compare to the life he loved. But still, he wanted to know who his compass pointed towards.

Content Warning: Alcohol use, Cussing, Implied Sex

Day 19 Rem^2- Everyone is born with a compass that points in the direction of their soulmate.

Sweet dreams are made of this Who am I to disagree? I travel the world and the seven seas Everybody's looking for something -Eurythmics

Remus loved the open sea and was positive his soulmate did too. He hoped one day their ships would land in the same port but even then he wasn't sure what would change.

He hung from the rigging and felt the salty air on his chest and face. Who could give up life on deck for a life on land? He didn't often wonder about the misery of finding one woman in one port and staying there for the rest of one's life. That was someone else's dream; he was already living his.

He hoped that his soulmate was as happy as he was roaming the world. All the better for both of them if they never met.

Remus checked his actual compass to ensure the ship was on course then checked his soul mark compass. Surprisingly, the ship was coincidentally following the soul mark compass as well. He shrugged and pulled his sleeve back down over the mark before swinging down the ropes to the deck to report to the captain.

"Captain Mercadante, we're on course and the skies look clear. We should be seeing land by nightfall," Remus grinned as he dropped the final few feet to the deck.

"Fantastic, thank you, First Mate Remus. I'll be glad to have this particular job finished," the Captain looked relieved with the report, "these waters are infested with naval ships. It's a miracle we've avoided the sight of any so far. Got any plans for shore leave?" the captain smiled with a knowing wink.

"You know me, a dozen sailors in every port," Remus gave a sly wink right back.

"Yes, my brother, the whore," the captain laughed, "now go make yourself useful somewhere, ey?"

"Aye aye, RoRo," Remus saluted as he dropped down below deck.

"That's Captain RoRo to you!" Roman laughed and made busy checking on the rest of his crew. Just because they were constantly skirting the law didn't mean they couldn't have fun with it. He and his brother had dreamed of sailing the seas since they were young and it was every bit as adventurous as he had hoped.

The crow's nest spotted land an hour before nightfall and Roman made the call to pull into port the next day.

Remus watched his soul mark stay steady as they pulled in. Perhaps his soulmate really would be onshore. It was a curiosity for him at best, to know who the compass on his skin pointed towards. He had more important things to worry about, including not letting the crew crash the ship. He rushed to correct a mistake before it cost them a week on land making repairs.

That night Roman stayed aboard finalizing the payment for the job while the crew was given leave onshore. Remus stayed on board as muscle in case the deal went south, but luckily the sponsor was well satisfied and paid without complaint.

"Appropriate reward for hard weeks of work," Roman grinned, "now get out of here, you've more than earned shore leave, Remus."

"Just like you to always be trying to get rid of me," Remus was practically already over the side of the ship, eager to enjoy the night drinking and flirting.

It wasn't long before he was in a tavern and dancing on a table with a mug in hand. Every patron was either laughing at him or shaking their heads in amusement. He couldn't get enough of their attention. As the musician by the fireplace finished the song he made a deep stumbling bow and jumped off the table, intending to replace the ale he'd spilled everywhere during his careless dance.

Before he could go anywhere, a stranger slid up to him with a knowing grin. Remus smirked back, head swimming in booze but knowing exactly what that look meant.

"Hey, sailor. You know how to have a good time," the man was suave, clearly soberer than Remus.

Remus winked, "you want to have a good time?" It wasn't his best line by a long shot but he was feeling pretty dizzy.

The man laughed, "okay, leave the flirting to me. Want some fresh air?" he was toying with the edges of Remus' collar. Remus nodded and let the man pull him out of the tavern.

"You're a pirate," Remus wasn't sure what prompted him to declare it as they walked along the wharf.

"So are you, what are you gonna do? Call the authorities?" the stranger snorted at the ridiculous notion.

"Why'd you pick me? Half the men in that bar would have had you," Remus could feel himself starting to sober up just a bit. He was still stumbling every step but his thoughts were more in order.

The man didn't answer. Rather he stuck his hand out to Remus, "my name is Remy. What's yours?"

"Oh hey, name buddies!" Remus dramatically threw his hand to his chest, "I'm Remus."

Remy laughed, "see? I didn't even need to know your name to know you were special."

"Flattery will get you everything," Remus laughed, loud and raucous compared to the soft whisper of the low tide lapping at the piers.

"How much for the night?" Remy smirked.

"Tell me I'm pretty."

"That's gay."

"So are you."

"You're pretty."

"I thought you'd never ask," Remus grinned wide, grabbing Remy by the wrist and pulling him in close for a kiss.

The innkeeper had seen everything and didn't need to ask questions; she simply showed them to a small dingy room towards the back and thankfully away from other better-paying customers. As soon as the door closed behind her knowing eyes, Remus collapsed on the bed, never taking his eyes off of Remy.

Remy looked nervous as he undid the buttons on his shirt, "we need to talk."

"About what, sexy?" Remus grinned.

"The soulmate thing."

"I don't give a shit if you don't," Remus was unfortunately used to this hesitation from others.

"No, not like that," Remy spoke softly, pulling off his shirt and turning his wrist so Remus could see it. The needle was fixed decidedly towards him.

"What are you trying to say?" Remus sat up, hand instinctively drifting to his own wrist.

"Check yours. Out of all the men in that bar, it was only going to be you, Remus," Remy sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him.

Remus pulled up his sleeve. His own compass was pointed directly at Remy. He waved his arm in a wide arc from side to side and it stayed trained on the man in front of him.

"No way…"

"Bitch, you better believe it! Not that I was looking for you, but here you fucking are," Remy's eyes shone with the pride of accomplishment.

"Imagine that, two gay ass pirates finding each other on a nowhere island without even trying," Remus laughed and pulled Remy in for a long kiss. This time Remy kissed back and pushed him back on the bed.

---

Remus woke with a pounding head. He had been far worse hungover before but it still hurt to move. He could barely remember their conversation the night before, but one look at his compass proved it. The man lying next to him was his soulmate for the first time in his life.

Fuck.

What would this change? Remus sat up on the edge of the bed and creaking caused Remy to stir from his own sleep.

"Oh my gawwwd, good morning," Remy had a curiously soft, sassy, sleepy tone that cracked into Remus' heart.

Fuck.

What if he fell in love with his soulmate? Remus could hardly force himself to think. Roman would hire the man, almost no questions asked if Remus asked him to, but would Remy drop whatever job he already had for him? Would he abandon ship to join Remy if given the chance? What did he even want-

"You were so good last night, thank you," Remus felt nails running softly along his spine. No matter what he couldn’t leave without saying a word. But what could he say?

"Remy…" he faltered as quickly as he had started.

"I know," Remus heard the bed creak as Remy sat up, "ships don't ever wait, do they?"

Remus turned to face his soulmate and realized that whatever happened, they had to make the decisions together or forever regret what had happened.

"Remy, thank you. You were the one who found me," Remus tried again.

"That's right," Remy grinned at him.

Remus took a deep breath, "where do we go from here?"

Remy shrugged, "back to our ships? Hope we end up in the same port again someday? Pick a ship and sail off together? Buy an inn here and settle down? Where do you want to go?"

Remus thought about it and knew his answer, "I can't abandon my ship or my brother. And I can't ask you to abandon yours."

Remy laughed, "maybe I should like.. rob you blind so you stop giving me those puppy eyes. Don't tell me you fell in love last night. I'm good but I'm not that good."

"No, I didn't," Remus smiled and leaned over to kiss his neck, "I fell in love this morning. And I'll fall in love all over again the next time the winds blow us together. I'm glad we met, Remy."

"You are the biggest sap that ever pretended to sail the seas!" Remy pushed him away playfully, "next time you better have a much thicker skin."

"Is that how you say 'I love you'?" Remus laughed.

"Nah, this is how you fucking say 'I love you'," Remy pulled him into a passionate kiss, hand running through his hair and down his back. Remus pulled his soulmate in closer, memorizing every inch he could feel and smell and taste.

They broke apart and started sorting through the mess of clothes and personal belongings. Remy jokingly pocketed one of Remus' chains with an exaggerated wink. Remus kissed his nose and told him to keep it while not very slyly grabbing one of the man's rings off his finger.

The two walked back to the wharf without saying much. Remy stopped at the edge of one of the docks and gave Remus a long look over.

"See you in the next port, sailor," he grinned, fingering the "stolen" chain around his neck and turning toward a ship already bustling with preparations to sail.

"That's right you better run, thief," Remus rubbed the "stolen" ring on his pinky and turned to leave. He glanced at his soul mark as it pointed straight behind him then glanced up to where Roman was welcoming the straggling hungover crew back on board with loud barking orders to prepare to set sail. He jogged to reach the plank before it was drawn back into the ship.

"Fun night, Rem?" Roman grinned as Remus barely made it on board.

"The most fun a boy can have," Remus grinned back, glancing over Roman’s shoulder to the ship Remy had boarded.

"Did you meet someone special?"

"You could say that. Where're we headed next?" Remus focused back in, ready for their newest job and next adventure.

"I'll tell you when it's too late for you to jump ship," Roman clapped him on the back before returning to barking orders at the rest of the crew.

Remus rubbed the ring on his pinky again as the wind filled their sails and they pulled out of the dock back towards the sea. He knew he'd find Remy again but he was content with their one night together until then.

After all the sea was calling.

Tag List: @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @idontgiveafuckaboutshit @tsshipmonth2020

#Soulmate September 2020 #tsshipmonth2020 #rem^2 #remsleep #pirate au #soulmate au #I got fricken bamboozled by the prompt because today is talk like a pirate day #alcohol cw #drunkeness cw #cussing #implied sex #i'm too ace to write actual smut #brotherly creativitwins

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minhomas-tmr · 3 years

Text

Bon Appétit - Chapter 2: Hors d'oeuvres

A/N: Hors d'oeuvres are typically served before the meal even begins

—

“I mean..who gave him the right?!!” Thomas said for the umpteenth time. “Arms like that? So fucking wasted on a chef, it’s like the universe’s personal attack on me!” Thomas paced, arms swinging around wildly in frustration. “Body builder would have made more sense!! Personal trainer even!!”

“Thomas. When you messaged me with such urgency, I assumed it was about our talk on reflecting..”

“Ohhh we’ll get to that alright!” Thomas snarked, “I just am mad right now. Let me be mad, yeah?”

Janson rolled his eyes, not even trying to hide his exasperation, “Go on then. I’m getting paid regardless.”

“You’re such a dick.” Thomas gaped at his therapist.

“True,” Janson said in his usual calm tone. Except it didn’t make Thomas calm when it sounded condescending. Go figure he’d end up with a sarcastic shit. It wasn’t helping his mood the slightest.

“You think this is funny? I can’t be—!! I like gir—women. I like women, dammit!”

“Seems from your rant, this is not the first time you have noticed such things in a man. So then it comes back to the why not, Thomas?”

“Because.” Thomas bit out, teeth grinding. He stared at the carpet, knowing Janson had that look in his eyes again. The one where Thomas would spill out everything.

Dammit the guy may be a dick, but he was worth every buck Thomas was shelling out.

It was just so challenging. Admitting anything to anyone was such a challenge…Janson was right though. If he didn’t talk, he’d never be able to move forward, and at least here there was a person willing to listen.

Janson didn’t have to tell him he was hired by Ava because of something nefarious, but he’d admitted to it and wanted to proceed with honesty. Being a man drowning in resentment, but trying nonetheless, Thomas had nothing to lose.

“I ran away, once,” he admitted to the quiet room. “Enrolled in a culinary course behind my father’s back, booked a flight to Paris and I ran away. I wanted to be myself and I couldn’t be that….with him and his expectations.”

“What does it mean to you, ‘to be yourself’.”

“Free. I even found someone, and we were happy. Or I thought we were,” Thomas murmured. “It was a..a long time ago. I was okay, you know? This..stupid stupid thing happened and then pretending it hadn’t happened, and I know the truth. He knows I know. That made it even worse.

“But I was fine! And then this fuckin’ model shows up and this is what I become? I’m a mess all for a man that—what’s the point?”

“Maybe you have reached a stage where ‘okay’ and ‘fine’ aren’t enough.” Janson stated in a gentler tone than what he’d used during the chef’s tantrum. “Now. Let’s discuss another matter. You mentioned ‘he’ knows, I know. Considering you have barely spared ten lines to the new chef, I assume that’s not him,”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” Thomas sat down with a huff, “I’d rather talk about how that infuriatingly likeable man is taking over my kitchen!!”

’Ping’.

—

Thomas came into his kitchen early, the empty parking lot giving him the illusion he had time to gather his thoughts before the work day—an illusion shattering when the first thing he saw was Minho’s backside.

Thomas’ eyes lingered longer than they had any right to, but if Minho was gonna make it a habit to come this early, he was going to try to not…not let Minho deteriorate his mind into admitting the truth.

“Good morning,”

Those words didn’t come from him.

Lucky for him, Thomas’ eyes had drifted away from those deliciously thick thighs. He just hoped his desire wasn’t spelled out on his face. It couldn’t be sanitary being frisky with a—straight man. Stop!

“Good Morning,” Thomas didn’t know how long of a pause it was, but hopefully Minho chalked it up to be Thomas’ poor social skills and not his unprofessional thoughts.

“So…” Thomas drew a blank. Why did he open his mouth when he had nothing to say?! Maybe that’s why he was at his prime but still single.

“I got my own apron?” Minho volunteered. “Got my name on it and everything,”

“You what?” Thomas squawked without thinking.

“I’m kidding,” Minho turned to him grinning. “Only Master Chef contestants get that honour,”

“But they have to return it..”

“Even the kids? Man, that’s cruel.”

“Maybe its just for show them ‘giving it up’. Maybe they sign a contract that says they aren’t allowed to mention they have the show apron or somethi—what?” Thomas cut off at the amused look Minho sent his way.

“So you watch it, huh?”

“It’s a good comedy,” Thomas shrugged, turning away. The other chef burst out laughing behind him, and Thomas couldn’t fight the smile growing on his face at the sound.

“Hate to break this up but the apron aside we still have to figure out..the rest..” Minho sounded hesitant and he had a good reason to be. Thomas had been an absolute dick to him so far. Time to own up to it.

“I was being a jerk last time..You’re ranking equal you know?”

“Still, this is your domain. So let’s hear them, Thomas.” Minho said. Thomas sighed inwardly, praying this peace treaty didn’t disappear because of his inability to mesh with people.

“Okay then. The biggest rule is no music. I can’t stand it,” Thomas grimaced. “I don’t care if it’s instrumental, orchestra, seriously it has no place in ma—the kitchen. Play whatever you what anywhere else but not at work. I don’t care if everyone loves it, I can’t focus. and A kitchen is meant to be cooked in—not to dance or whatever else you all were doing.”

“That’s fair. Music’s not for everyone,” Minho nodded, already looking for the speaker he’d brought in. “And the food?”

“Too early to say. I didn’t hire you, and hell, I didn’t even know you were going to be hired long-term. I don’t know what you can do, so we see how things go for now,” Thomas shrugged.

“I’m working on something…you could try my dish right now to get an idea of my style?” Minho didn’t seem off-put by Thomas’ tone.

“No thank you. I don’t have time to loiter around and if you’re experimenting, I highly suggest you do it in your own home.” Thomas didn’t mention that it’s what he did, a fan of experimentation himself.

Minho became more and more interesting by the minute.

Before they could exchange more words, the staff started coming in and for some reason Thomas didn’t want to show that he was agreeable with Minho. Frankly speaking, he didn’t think it would change anything.

—

The day wasn’t great in terms of unity but it wasn’t bad either. Having two Head Chefs was more challenging and it brought on some confusion. The kitchen after some time obtained a certain amount of balance—that was until someone mentioned the music. The loud protest to the ‘no music’ rule was what finally sent Thomas into the walk-in freezer.

He finished preparing the order, placing it on the counter for the waiters to pick up and walked straight in, the familiar humming of the cool room soothing him. Not for the first time did he consider quitting. Before Thomas’ big ‘incident’ the kitchen worked like a well-oiled machine and a couple weeks of his absence and suddenly no one can function the way they used to?

He hated how irritated this made him, he hated that he didn’t hate Minho for the change. He did hate how the staff seemed so taken with the newcomer though and in such a short time too…they smiled when he made a positive comment and felt comfortable joking with him. Thomas had hired most of them and in all those years, not once did they behave that way with him.

Thomas sat on the cold floor head in his hands. Yeah, there was no escaping this. He was jealous of Minho. Minho was easy to like—too easy to like even. There was no escaping his attraction to the new chef either.

But he couldn’t just walk out. He couldn’t just leave, not yet. He’d only end up proving his father right.

—

Work was Thomas’ life so like usual Thomas was the last to leave but he noticed Minho hanging around too. When one of the waitresses—Thomas didn’t know her name—waved them bye, Minho responded in kind, closing the door after so it was again just them.

“You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Thomas responded briskly.

“You were..gone for a long time,”

Thomas paused in sanitizing his station thoroughly. That was a first. No one had mentioned his absence before, he didn’t know how to feel when the man messing him up was the one asking.

Feeling eyes on him, Thomas looked up and shrugged. “It happens. Nothing exploded, right?”

Minho sighed, “Is it always like this?”

“You mean do they always leave without saying bye to me? Yeah, ever since they were hired. So it’s great. Great that you’ve made that connection. I’ll just have to live vicariously through you.”

“Hey—“ Minho reached out to grab his arm, surprising Thomas enough to stop him from walking away. “I want this to work. You saw how today was…”

“Hard to miss,” Thomas nodded, not looking at Minho directly. He didn’t like the idea of going easy on the other chef, but he promised himself to be less of a dick. Frankly he wasn’t sure if his irritation was from the professional side of things or…other factors.

“Listen, when I was hired, I made it crystal clear to Ava that I wanted to work with you. Not replace you. Even if that was her original intention, it’s not mine and it never will be.”

Thomas did look at him then and the only thing he found was utter sincerity. Absolutely floored, he didn’t know what to say. Minho wanted to work with him? This entire time he’d wanted…

“Now if you don’t want me here, I…I’ll leave. Things can go back to how they were with your team and no complications of us in the same kitchen. If I’m the reason you disappeared for that long a period? I don’t want that.”

Thomas sighed feeling like utter shit, realizing he’d taken all his anger on Ava’s deception onto Minho. It wasn’t right and Minho was exceptional in his skills, Thomas knew that now.

Knowing how easy it was to say the wrong thing, Thomas thought carefully on his words.

“I don’t do well with change,” he started to which Minho sighed, slowly letting go of his arm that—wait was it there the entire time? Not wanting to be misunderstood, he continued, “You’re a good type of change though. So no. You’re staying,” he finished firmly.

“Now if you don’t mind…” Thomas moved to side-step him, when he was stopped again. Thomas frowned, resenting Minho’s frame yet again. He wasn’t small but the fact remained he had to look up to meet Minho’s eyes.

If he wanted, Minho could pin him down so easily. But that was ridiculous. Why would he want to? Why would Thomas want him too? Dammit, why wasn’t anyone talking?!

“The food.” Minho stated finally, at some point realizing Thomas wasn’t going to initiate. “They need to know who to go to regarding the menu.”

“Right.” Thomas pulled out a copy of the menu and they went into the seating area to sort it out. He turned to pages straight to the main course section. “It’s easiest to split the dishes in half, unless you have a preference of meat?”

He looked up only to find Minho’s eyes on him and not the menu. Thomas felt his cheeks go warm at the attention and he didn’t mean to, but his brisk tone turned softer when he asked, “Do you?”

“No, I’m trained in all areas,” Minho didn’t break eye contact, but oddly dropped his voice too, “though I feel like once we get a feel of each other’s style, that can change?”

His mind immediately thought about what else he would like to ‘get a feel of’ but—Thomas stop. He wasn’t a teenager and he sincerely hoped he wasn’t blushing like one.

“Mmnhm,” was all he could manage though, using a hasty excuse to leave the table on order to get ready to leave.

—

A/N:Okay lovelies, this is a bit short but I’m trying to watch my pace to be honest. I know where I want to go, I just have to write it lol. Also the dish names I’m matching with their progression :) Until next time!!

Be safe, take care <3

#bon apetit #Bon Appétit #thominho #thominho fanfiction #thominho ff #chef minho #chef thomas #thomas has a stick up his ass #he'd frankly prefer a d--#annyywaysss #;)#chapter update

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let-love-run-red · 5 years

Text

The Adventures of a Single Father-3

Tag List: @sincereleygmg @0hour9am @siobhanlovesfilm @thefandomzoneisdangerous

As the weeks went on, you and Adam had grown closer. Usually his job hunting schedule aligned with your work schedule, and he found himself leaving the apartment with Cody at the same time you would walk out the door, dressed in a pair of sensible heels with a long coat obscuring the rest of your outfit as the seasons turned colder. He would wait for you to lock your door, before walking you down the steps of the building into the lobby. Then you would wait for him to unlock his bike and strap Cody into the small seat before saying your goodbyes and going your separate ways.

It was a routine Adam found endearing, and one you found you didn't mind either. After a few days, you offered to hold Cody while Adam unlocked his bike. You'd noticed he struggled with the key in one hand while holding Cody in the other. Adam hesitated at first, before handing Cody over to you. You cooed to the baby, smiling widely down at him before Adam turned to take him back with the bike leaned against his hip. You had only been holding Cody for a moment, but you could see how anxious Adam was at not having Cody with him.

But after that day, Adam had started asking you to hold Cody while he unlocked his bike or stowed his bag in the basket. It was nice knowing Adam was gaining trust in you, and you definitely didn't mind holding Cody. He was adorable, and getting bigger by the day. Adam seemed much more relaxed around you as well, enjoying your presence rather than seeming on edge.

"Where are you going today?" You asked him one morning. You'd exchanged your heels for a pair of winter boots as the temperature dropped. Rather than the sharp click of your heels on the floor you listened to the rhythm of your boots and Adam's shoes thunking on the hard stairs in the stairwell. Cody was bundled up in a small winter coat, with warm fuzzy socks and boots on his small feet. Adam was in a thicker ratty jacket, wearing his usual jeans and a T-shirt underneath.

"There's a club a few blocks over offering a job. They didn't specify which kind but, it's a job." Adam said as the two of you stepped out into the lobby. As you approached the interior bike rack, Adam handed Cody off to you. Cody babbled happily at you, softly touching the short faux rabbit fur that lined the hood of your winter coat. Adam worked on unlocking the bike, before leaning it against his body and turning to glance at you and Cody. You were softly humming to him as Cody reached for your finger. He felt warmth surge through his chest. You looked like Hayley had, the first time she held Cody.

Adam shook his head violently to clear the thought. You weren't Hayley. She had left Cody, she had left Adam, and she wasn't coming back. You didn't need to take over the role as Cody's mom, because Cody didn't need a mom. He had Adam, and that was good enough. He was good enough.

"That's good. Any idea what the hours are?" You asked, as Adam fussed with the fabric cover and sun shade he'd bought for Cody's bike seat, to keep the cold wind from getting to him.

"Here let me help, these can be tricky." You said, handing Cody back to Adam. Adam took his son, cradling him against his shoulder as he watched you. You laid the fabric cover over the plastic seat, pulling the straps through the pre-cut holes in the cover. You then reached for the sun shade, attaching it to the seat and popping it into place. Adam settled Cody in the seat on his bike. Adam buckled the small helmet over Cody's little hat and pulled out a small pair of mittens from his own jacket pocket.

"I'm not sure, about the hours. I'm hoping it'll be during the day, like setting up for the night rush. It's easier to find babysitters for the day." Adam slipped the mittens over Cody's hands, tightening the string at the bottom and tying them to the loop on Cody's coat sleeves so he couldn't pull them off or drop them during the ride. You nodded thoughtfully as you watched Adam buckle Cody into the seat. He stood straight, flipping his hair out of his eyes as he looked back at you. Cody burbled happily from his seat.

"That would be good. Well, I hope you get the job." You encouraged as you and Adam walked out the door. Adam paused before walking out, lowering the shade down to block Cody from the New York winter winds.

"I hope so too." Adam said. The two of you paused for a moment, unsure of what to say. You finally shuddered from the cold, flipping your hood up and shoving your hands in your pockets.

"Well, I'll see you later Adam." You said with a grin. Adam waved goodbye and you turned to wave at Cody through the tinted plastic window in the shade before walking the opposite direction to your job. Adam waited for a break in the traffic, before pushing off his bike and riding towards the club a few blocks away.

"Hey, I saw you guys posted a job opening?" Adam greeted the man at the empty bar top drying cups. The bartender glanced up, eyeing the baby carrier strapped to Adam's chest before looking back up to Adam's face and snorting.

"Yeah, we did. I'm not in charge of it though." The man said, stacking the cup he'd been drying only to pick up another and continue the process. He didn't say anything else, just continued drying his cups.

"Who would be in charge of it?" Adam asked. He could feel his patience wearing thin. It had been days since he'd found a lead this promising at a job. There was always the opening at Grumpy's, but that was way too close to Hannah for his comfort. He wanted nothing to do with her.

"That would by Viggo Hartvigsen." The bartender said, gesturing to a door at the back of the club. Adam glanced back to see the large black door with red designs on it. Adam sighed before approaching the door. There was a small paper taped to the door that said "Job inquiries, please knock." Adam raised his fist, knocking gently on the door. He heard a booming "come in" before he opened the door. The man sitting at the desk was massive. He had dark hair braided down his back, and a thick beard covering most of his features. When he lifted his head, Adam noticed the beard was braided as well.

"Are you Mr. Hartvigsen?" Adam asked. The man flashed him a smile before standing from his desk. He was a few inches taller than Adam, although the berth of his shoulders made him look much larger.

"Please call me Viggo. You are?" Viggo asked, offering his hand for Adam to shake. Adam gave a firm handshake before Viggo gestured for him to sit in the chair across the desk. Adam glanced around at the walls, seeing old Viking artifacts scattered throughout the room.

"I'm Adam Sackler. I heard you were offering a job?" He said. viggo's face fell as he pursed his lips.

"I'm sorry Mr. Sackler, we gave that position away earlier today. A little college boy came in lookin' for a job, said he needed the money for tuition." Viggo said. Adam sighed, resting his hands on the arms of the chair to stand. Cody let out a squeal and waved his arms around in an attempt to shake off the mittens from his hands. Viggo snapped his head up, finally spotting the baby carrier nestled under Adam's jacket.

"And who might this be?" Viggo asked with a grin. Adam gently took Cody's hands in one of his own, smoothing his other hand over Cody's dark hair.

"This is Cody, my son. I'm sorry I brought him I just couldn't find a sitter." Adam said. Viggo watched as Cody calmed down, resting his small head against Adam's chest.

"Do ya need this job for the wee one?" Viggo asked, his face falling grim. Adam nodded, looking down at Cody.

"Well I'll tell you what Mr. Sackler. I pride myself on being a good person. The Gods saw fit to give me enough to thrive with ownership of this club, and I choose to use it to help those who were handed a rotten fish." Viggo said. Adam blinked. He didn't know what that meant entirely, but he had hope.

"My night security man has has been asking me to hire another man for the evening shifts. He's in hot water with his wife for missing one too many dinners. What do you say to working, oh, every other night?" Viggo offered. Adam felt his heart jump into his throat. This was his first real offer.

"I, that would be amazing!" Adam said, a wide smile on his face. Viggo mirrored his grin and offered his hand.

"It's a deal then Mr. Sackler. How d'ya feel about starting tomorrow?" Viggo asked. Adam graciously accepted. Viggo offered a generous hourly wage for his first month, changing to a large salary after the one month mark. He even offered various benefits that Adam couldn't hope for anywhere else. Adam filled out the paperwork required, before nearly skipping out of the office. This was his chance at a better life for Cody, and he couldn't wait.

You walked through the rear entrance of the restaurant straight into the kitchen. You turned into the small coat closet, dropping your thick coat and hanging it on one of the pegs on the wall, pulling your small black heels from your bag and replacing your boots with the heels. You opened your locker, pulling out your fancy apron and dropping it over your neck, tying it behind your back before doing your hair the way it needed to be done to be considered acceptable for your dress code. Luckily, your manager was fairly relaxed when it came to hairstyles.

You walked through the kitchen, greeting the rest of the waitstaff and the cooks before clocking in and checking in with the hostess at the front to let her know you were there. Luckily your section hadn't needed to be opened yet, as the lunch rush hadn't arrived yet.

Finally, there was a group of four girls that were sat in your section. You rushed over to greet them with your usual cheery smile, asking for drink orders. The girls all gave their order. Some sort of alcoholic drink, except for one. The girl with short hair pulled back into a ponytail. You hated to be rude, but her teeth were also a little crooked. You took their order, giving them to the bartender. The only one you could bring out was the root beer the girl with crooked teeth had ordered.

As you walked back out, you heard the group chatting amongst themselves.

"So what's going on with that Adam fellow? After he dumped me I thought he went back to you." The British one said, addressing the toothy girl.

"No ew Jessa. As if I want anything to do with him." The toothy girl snapped.

"Hannah, you came to me crying after he hooked up with that one girl, I think her name was Hayley?" The blonde said. You couldn't help but listen in as you stood at the waiters station a few feet away after dropping off the root beer.

"Marnie, please. We don't say her name." Hannah said with a sigh as she took a sip of the root beer.

"Didn't he get her pregnant?" The quiet girl in the corner spoke up.

"Ah yes, that's right. He knocked her up didn't he, that's why you're upset. He wouldn't help you raise your baby then had one of his own. I can see why that would upset you." Jessa said. They paused their conversation to show ID's and pay for drinks as the bartender handed them their drinks.

"Well I heard she left him." Marnie said in an attempt to console toothy gi- Hannah. You meant Hannah.

"I heard. Honestly it serves him right, it's hard to raise a baby by yourself and he should have to see how it is." Hannah snapped. "His kid has a stupid name too, mines cuter. Honestly who names their kid Cody?"

Upon hearing that, you almost dropped the refill of root beer you had brought her. You recovered with a small huff, avoiding spilling the root beer in her lap, instead placing it in front of her with a pained smile. They were talking about Adam? Your Adam? It seemed hard to believe he was ever acquainted with that group, they were all varying degrees of messy.

You excused yourself quickly to the back, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. You wondered if Adam would be comfortable talking about this tonight?

On the way home Adam had stopped and bought himself a coffee. Not just a plain coffee, he could make those at home. No, one of the expensive ones from Starbucks. He hated the culture surrounding it, but if he had to be honest they had good coffee. He resisted the urge to buy himself a Christmas cookie as well, he couldn't be going wild just yet.

He couldn't wait to tell you about it. He considered you one of his closest friends, and you had only moved in a month ago. He skidded to a halt outside the apartment building, looking down the street and hoping to see you walking home. He knew in the back of his mind that it would be hours before you got home, he'd only been gone for two, but he couldn't stop himself from hoping.

"Hey Adam." He heard a voice. He looked next to him to see Laura pressing the buttons on the rooms until somebody buzzed her in. She stopped and held the door for Adam as he walked his bike into the building and started locking it on the rack.

"Hey Laura, how's Basil?" He asked. He was still curious about the snake.

"He's doing well, doesn't like the cold but who does." She said. Her voice seemed flatter than normal, Adam wondered if she was alright. He glanced up to see her bundled in a thick coat trimmed with long tan fur. Her black snow boots were laced tight and she was wearing a pair of thick leggings. She had a pair of furred earmuffs on and a cashmere scarf wrapped around her neck. She really didn't like the cold.

"Are you alright?" Adam asked her. Laura shivered and stomped the snow off her boots before walking with Adam up the stairs as Adam held Cody's hand.

"Fine. Chris's roommates are kicking him out so I've been helping him pack his shit- sorry, stuff, all day." She said. She flipped her hood down and pushed the earmuffs off her ears as she dug in her pocket for her apartment key as they reached their floor.

"Why are they kicking him out?" Adam asked. From what he'd seen of Chris, he was a calm quiet man. He couldn't imagine what he could have done to be kicked out.

"One of his roommates assho-jerk, sorry, girlfriend got into his Vyvanse and Chris flipped his shit." Laura said as she and Adam walked down the hall.

"Vyvanse?"

"It's ADHD medication, Chris is ADHD as shi- frick. Vyvanse is like an off brand Adderall, but it's expensive as all he-fuck-wait," Laura hissed to herself, glancing at Cody in Adam's arms. "Sorry I'm so used to swearing all the time." She said. Adam chuckled.

"It's alright, I swear a lot too. I'm working on it but nobody's perfect. Besides he doesn't say many coherent words yet. I'll start worrying more when he copies people." He said with a smile. Laura smiled back as they reached their apartment doors.

"Anyway, his roommates girlfriend took a ton of it. Almost overdosed, Chris flipped because now he's out nearly a week of doses, his roommate flipped out because he had to pay for an ambulance. It's a mess. So they're kicking him out and we're trying to find him a place to stay." She finished as she unlocked the apartment door.

"Damn, that sucks." Adam said as Laura opened the door.

"Yeah, so it's been a bit stressful lately. Sorry for bothering you you didn't need to hear all that." Laura said as she watched Adam unlock his own apartment.

"No worries, you gotta get shit out or you'll explode." Adam said as he opened his own door.

"I'll see you later Laura." Adam said, waving goodbye as he walked into his apartment. He thought about his job again, and did a little hop as he walked to his room. He couldn't stop a smile breaking out as he shucked his jacket off and dropped it on the couch as he walked. He pulled Cody from the carrier and sat on the bed with Cody in front of him as he pulled his son's winter clothing off. Cody babbled happily as Adam puffed his cheeks out and blew a raspberry at Cody. Adam leaned over the bed to unlace his shoes and listening to Cody continue his babbling.

"Dada!" Adam froze when he heard Cody speak. He turned to look at his son, seeing him with a wide smile on his face as he waved his arms towards Adam. Cody leaned forward and made "grabby hands" at Adam and squealing.

"Dada dada dada!" Cody said and leaned forward until he was flat on his stomach. He started scooting towards Adam. Adam felt tears streaming down his cheeks as he reached forward and picked up Cody. Cody leaned against Adam's chest and reached up to grab a handful of Adam's thick black hair.

"Dada." Cody said contentedly as he rested his head on Adam's shoulder and tugged gently at Adam's hair. Adam didn't even notice the sharp tugs as he rested one large hand on his son's back. His shoulders shook as he pressed his cheek against Cody's head. Cody continued quietly babbling to Adam, occasionally saying "dada" again before he drifted off to sleep.

Adam thought he'd never put Cody down again.

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crystaljins · 5 years

Text

Take a chance. | 06

Characters: Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 11.7K

Synopsis: You should have known the second your business partner asked you to plan his best friend’s wedding as a favour that it was going to be nothing but trouble. Especially when it turns out he’s in love with said best friend. And dying of a deadly disease because of it.

Hanahaki!au

Notes: @trumpettay @usuallyunlikelyfox Here’s your tags!

As for everyone else.... I honestly feel so loved. I was so insecure about this fic and you guys have showered it with love and honestly... Thank you. Thank you so much. We’re so close to the end and I hope you guys can stick with me just a little longer!

Warnings: Angst. Graphic depictions of vomiting. Mentions of illness and death.

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Seri knows that something weird is happening at work. For one thing, you, the textbook definition of a workaholic, take a sudden and unexplained leave from the office despite not having done so since starting the business five years ago. Jin graciously takes on all your clients and begins staying well past his office hours to handle the extra workload but does not offer a word of complaint for it. Jungkook suddenly decides to start working from home like he’ll burst into flames if he steps foot in the office. It’s like something awful has happened and no one has the decency to tell her.

At least not until after a couple of weeks of this strange quiet at the office passes. She’s relaxing late on a Friday night, revelling in the fact that she doesn’t have to go into work tomorrow. It’s when Seri is in the middle of contemplating cracking open a bottle of wine that it happens. Her phone goes off and a picture of Jin smirking at her flashes across the screen. It’s his contact image, one that he set himself to replace the previous picture she had of him sleeping during office hours with an impressive double chin. She can’t think why he’d be calling at this hour.

“Please come and get him.” An unfamiliar voice on the other end of the line answers when she picks up.

“I’m sorry, who is this?” She asks, because she was expecting Jin, and this isn’t Jin. The other end of the line sighs.

“I’m the bartender. And look, he was charming at first but then he stole the mic from the live singer and started telling dad jokes. And now he won’t stop crying and I saw he was drunk dialling you and so you must be someone he knows. I don’t care if you’re his ex, his best friend or his worst enemy. Just come and get him before I call the police.” The frazzled bartender pleads.

If Seri received a dollar for every time Jin gave her a headache, she’d probably be rich. As it stands, you’re pretty much paying her to babysit Jin. And so, with a groan and a longing look at the bottle of wine where it sits in her wine rack, she grabs her keys and a jacket and reluctantly leaves the warmth of her apartment.

It’s drizzling outside when she pulls up close to the pub. Inside, the crowd is starting to gradually grow but it isn’t hard to locate Jin. He’s the one trying to slut drop on the bar counter. The bartender, a young female who looks very much out of her depth is pointedly ignoring the shenanigans. Most people in the bar ignore him, and that suits Seri just fine because it means no one notices when Jin spots her and launches himself off the counter towards her. He stumbles a bit and only manages to avoid cracking his head open because he deposits all of his weight onto her as he throws his arms around her.

Seri stumbles a few steps, struggling under his weight, before managing to right herself by planting her back against a nearby pillar. This leaves her sandwiched between Jin’s weight and the pillar, but the alternative is both of them crumpling to the ground.

“Seri!” Jin cries enthusiastically and it takes a surprising amount of effort to pry his arms off her. “You came!”

He stumbles back a bit but manages to stay upright when she finally shoves him off of her. He grins goofily at her though, and he smells strongly of expensive whisky.

“Jin, what the heck?” She cries. She needs an explanation if she’s forced to put up with him at all, let alone drunk. “What are you doing here?”

He blinks a few times, uncomprehendingly before a smile spreads wide on his face.

“I’m celebrating.” He explains. He’s not drunk enough that he’s slurring his words, at least- he just seems to be tipsy. Very tipsy.

“Celebrating what?” She demands. He squints at her for a few moments, as if unsure of who he’s seeing, before smiling again.

“I’ll tell you after I get another drink.” He says suddenly, about to stumble towards the bar, but she catches his arm and yanks him back towards her.

“No. No way. No more drinks for you.” She scolds. “The only place you’re going is home.”

“But I don’t want to go home!” He complains. His full lower lip juts out in a pout as he does so, and he petulantly folds his arms like he’s chucking a tantrum. His voice lowers in volume and he leans in close- she’s still leaning against the pillar and to anyone watching on, they probably looking like a couple getting cosy. “Don’t make me.” He pleads against her ear. Seri stiffens, at the tone of his voice- gone is the giddy drunkenness and the childish tantrum.

Kim Seokjin is a lot of things. He’s boisterous, he’s loud, he’s friendly, he’s silly. Sometimes he’s obnoxious but it’s usually because he’s so enthusiastic about everything he comes across. Even his negatives are because of positive traits- he’s annoying because he can’t let anything go but that’s because he cares. He’s cringey but that’s because he likes to make people laugh. There isn’t a bad bone in his body. For a long time, Seri has thought of him as one of those obnoxious yellow weeds- flatweeds, they’re called. The bright yellow flowers that bloom on people’s lawns. They interfere with the grass that people want to grow, and they’re weeds. They’re carried on the wind and invade every flowering space. But there’s something lovely about them, about their brightness. Bright yellow- the colour of happiness. That’s Seokjin to her.

His voice is not happy. She’s never heard it crack- break in the way it does in that moment.

“Jin,” She calls, and he drops his forehead so that it rests in the crook of her neck of her shoulder. Somehow the action is heavier than when he threw his entire bodyweight on her earlier.

“I ruined her life, Seri.” He finally admits, a tiny whimper that she would almost have missed were it not for their proximity. “(Y/N)’s.”

Seri swallows and gently places her hands flat against his chest so that she can force him to take a step away from her. His eyes are downcast and bloodshot. The smell of alcohol clings to his rumpled shirt but his eyes aren’t red from drinking. No- they’re swollen. The bartender had mentioned that he’d been crying but Seri had assumed it was drunken shenanigans- she had assumed all of this was drunken shenanigans but looking into his eyes now she realises it’s not- it’s more than that.

“You didn’t.” She reassures him, though she doesn’t know what he thinks he did. Presumably, it has to do with his stupid plan to make Jungkook fall in love with you. Jungkook has been weird since then, but you’re all acting strange now. Jin smiles weakly at Seri.

“I did.” He repeats. “She didn’t have Hanahaki. She wasn’t sick.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Seri points out calmly. She had a feeling you weren’t sick. She’s seen Hanahaki before and you weren’t displaying any of the typical signs. But Jin was so sure and enthusiastic that she felt powerless to convince him otherwise. He shakes his head.

“She’s sick now.” He says. “She vomited right in front of me- it was a daisy petal. Just one. They’re… they’re her favourite flower. The petals I found that time were roses- it was Jungkook who was sick, all this time.”

Seri’s heart plummets into her stomach at his words.

“But doesn’t that mean-“ Seri cries, as her mind races to puzzle together the meaning of Jin’s words. He nods with an anguished smile.

“We… no… I made her sick. She was fine until I interfered.” He admits. The look he gives her is sober- the giddiness he had been chasing has evaporated and now he is weighed down with what he had been drinking to forget. “Do you know why I cared so much? About her?”

Seri shakes her head, her eyebrows knitted together. She frowns at Jin but patiently awaits his explanation.

“She gave me a chance.” He says. “My family… they kicked me out without a penny. I didn’t match up to the standards they wanted. A rich family like that… their son should be a doctor, or a lawyer. Not a college dropout. And (Y/N)… she hired me with zero qualifications to fill in paper work and I thought that was all I was ever going to amount to, without my family, without a degree… And then one day I helped her make that flowchart that you always complain about and she believed in me. Because of my merit. (Y/N) was the first person to ever see the value in me as me, and not as the role everyone wants me to fill. So, I wanted to help her, to pay her back… but I just ruined everything. I ruined their lives- hers, and Jungkook’s.”

Gradually, she’s starting to understand what happened. You love Jungkook and have shown the first signs of Hanahaki. It likely happened in front of Jungkook and Jin, given their behaviour. And it was probably because of Jin’s plan to tell Jungkook that you liked him… something that turned out to be the truth, even if Jin had completely misunderstood the situation. The situation being that Jungkook had been the sick one all along… and is probably desperately in love with someone else and not prepared for you to have Hanahaki because of him. And now you were all scared and panicked and that explains your sudden leave of absence and the sudden icy atmosphere in the office.

“You didn’t ruin anything.” Seri reassures Jin, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle and pulling him in for a warm hug. “You didn’t, Jin. This wasn’t your fault. But don’t worry.”

She shifts so that Jin, more sober now but still slightly unstable, is supported by her, and leads him out of the bar. Her car is nearby, and she plans to take him home.

“I’m going to fix this.” Is what she promises her co-worker as he sleeps in her passenger seat on the drive back to his apartment.

For one long moment, Jungkook slumps weakly against the bathroom cabinet. He can’t seem to find the strength to force himself to his feet to clean up after his latest episode. Oddly, despite this latest episode, his vomiting has been improving. Despite the fact that he’s stopped attending sessions with Namjoon and is screening all his calls, the fast approaching wedding date and the stress of fulfilling duties as both Best Man and Maid of Honour without you there to gently guide him through the steps. And despite the haunting memory of that pure white daisy petal. The one that had fluttered to the ground almost poetically and landed just in front of him. The carpets in your office are dark- easier to maintain, in your own words. Against the dark backdrop, the petal had almost glowed, even in the meagre lighting of your office. Like the feather of an angel wing. How could something so innocent and pristine carry a message of such death and despair? How can he be improving when you are sick? He shouldn’t be getting better- he should be getting worse. He should be feeling ten times the pain and discomfort you must be experiencing right now.

The rose petals look like blood as he sweeps them into a pile. His throat is dry and sore because of his latest episode. The medications Namjoon previously prescribed him sit untaken on his bathroom cabinet. Are you suffering this way too? Have you vomited since? He has not had the courage to find out, or to even contact you. What if you are? What will he do then? How could he cope with the knowledge that he’s the cause of such agony in you? He can’t go on much longer like this, locking himself in his apartment, working from home. He knows this and yet each morning he wakes up and tells himself just one more day. One more day without having to face what has happened. One more day where he can wallow and pretend that you’re perfectly fine, that that argument never happened. He can speak to you afterward. Maybe even comfort you, like you did for him. After just one more day.

He just can’t seem to gather the strength to speak to you.

He’s just about finished cleaning up the mess of his latest Hanahaki episode when he hears a knock on his door. It’s a soft, tentative knock. Taehyung or Minah would have just used the spare keys they own- many a time they’ve just barged in without any regard for his privacy or what he might be doing. So, he knows it’s not them. Then who could it be?

Surprisingly, hope springs in his chest that it’s you. It’s a stupid thought. He’s not even sure why he has it. Quickly, he glances in the bathroom mirror and fluffs his hair- it clings to his forehead with sweat and his skin is pale. In the hopes of brings some colour to his face, he turns on the tap and splashes himself with cold water a couple of times. He clears his throat a couple of times- he doesn’t want you worrying about him, after all, especially following the revelations of the feelings you must have for him.

But when the door swings open, it’s not you. It’s Seri, who looks surprised when the door swings open- her fist hovers in the air before her, as if she were about to attempt a second knock. When she spots him, she drops her fist and offers an awkward but polite smile.

“Hello.” She says formally. She ducks her head politely and Jungkook mimics the motion. She’s not high on the list of people he’s expecting in at his door in the late evening. She’s definitely the quietest amongst his coworkers, between you and your passion and Jin and his amicability. He can’t say he knows her that well beyond the fact that you had seen something you liked in her that you couldn’t identify in words, much like you had in Jin. And it’s not like he’d ever had an interest in getting to know his coworkers prior to you discovering his secret. He can probably count on one hand the number of times he and Seri have interacted one-on-one outside of her making requests of him as the manager of the business.

“Seri,” He greets. His voice is a bit hoarse, so he clears it awkwardly. “What brings you here?”

She glances around awkwardly before leaning in a little to peer into his apartment.

“I had a few things to talk about with you and you haven’t been coming into the office lately. And since (Y/N) is on leave…” She explains. She raises her other hand where she’s dangling a plastic bag from her fist. “I brought us something to drink.”

Jungkook feels himself stiffen when he peers inside the bag to find a bottle of just plain milk and a jar of honey. Not even flavoured milk. It’s an odd drink to bring along- most people will bring tea, or coffee, maybe a soft drink or plain wine. But that’s not what makes him freeze in the doorway like that- it’s that warmed milk and honey is what is recommended to Hanahaki patients after an episode. Most people only know the most basic information about the disease, and he feels like a random off the street wouldn’t know to bring plain milk- it’s intimidating and a little suspicious that Seri thought to bring such a specific drink. Even if she knew about his Hanahaki, how did she know to bring this beverage?

“That’s an… odd beverage choice.” He comments stiffly. Seri tilts her head slightly and smiles. It’s more of a thoughtful curl to her lips than a proper smile, but something knowing lingers behind her eyes that make Jungkook feel uneasy.

“You do know that I’ve been working alone with Jin in the office for the past two weeks, right? When have you ever known him to be capable of keeping a secret?” She comments. Jungkook grimaces, and she raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to let me in, or do you want your neighbours to hear what I have to say as well?”

Jungkook doesn’t need much more urging than that and quickly ushers Seri into his apartment. Instantly, her gaze goes to the garbage bag sitting by his bathroom door- the one he had meant to take to the outside trash right before she knocked on his door. It’s a white plastic bag and the bright red rose petals from his recent episode are just visible through the thin, translucent plastic. He cringes and grabs the bag by the handles and chucking it carelessly into the floor of his bedroom. He’ll deal with it when she’s gone.

She strides purposefully towards his kitchen and sets her bag on the counter before rummaging through his cupboard. She pulls out two mugs and fills them with milk. Then entire time she prepares the drinks she doesn’t say a word to Jungkook, and it isn’t until she sets a mug of warmed milk and honey before Jungkook and is sipping at one herself that she finally speaks.

“So… It wasn’t (Y/N) with Hanahaki after all.” Is what she says. She takes another delicate sip of her drink and hugs the mug in close to her chest while Jungkook chokes and nearly sprays hot milk out his nostrils. “You know Jin can’t keep a secret, Jungkook.” She chuckles to herself. But then her expression sharpens, and she peers at Jungkook with a clarity that tells him everything he needs to know- Seri knows exactly what’s going on. At least with him.

“I didn’t expect him to.” He mutters. Her whole face softens, and she offers Jungkook a smile- it’s not like the polite ones she has been giving to him so far. This one actually reaches her eyes, which are filled with a warmth and kindness that he’s not sure he’s prepared to receive.

“In his defence, he didn’t tell me so much as I figured it out.” She says, ignoring his muttered comment and cutting straight to the chase. “Is it because of that friend? The one (Y/N) is organising the wedding for?”

He’s so ashamed that his voice fails him, and he settles for just nodding his head pathetically. Seri shakes her head and sighs.

“It sounds like a real mess that you’ve all been dealing with.” She comments. But then she smiles at him again. “But that’s why I’m here. I’m here to help you sort this out, Jungkook.” She offers him determinedly. It reminds him of you, oddly, so much so that his heart pulses painfully in his chest and he has to look away. He doesn’t deserve to miss you.

“There’s not much you can do to help, I’m afraid.” He tells her dully. Everything is already ruined, after all. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong short of Minah and Taehyung finding out and calling off their wedding has gone wrong. And with the way things are going, they may very well find out now that he no longer has your help to cover for him. He doesn’t even feel like he has the will to hide it from them anymore. Seri shakes her head.

“There is, actually.” She confesses. She sets her mug down on the counter and folds her arms, glaring at him sternly. “I can convince you that the best thing to do is to come clean to your friends. The ones who are getting married. I know from (Y/N) that those two are your best friends- that’s why you haven’t been cured yet, right? Because it would mean exposing yourself? I know you’re probably hiding your sickness because you don’t want them to worry or call off the wedding. But have you ever considered that it’s wrong to lie to your friends like that?” She suggests tentatively. Jungkook opens his mouth to protest but she cuts him off. “I know you’re probably not directly lying, at least not intentionally. You’re just not telling them. But you’re still robbing them of the ability to choose what they want, Jungkook. If you tell them the truth, they can help you. And you can get treatment, and (Y/N) will probably get over whatever she’s going through, and things will go back to normal, eventually.”

He stares at Seri for a long moment.

“I… I’m doing it for their own good.” He offers weakly, though he can kind of see the point that Seri is making, even if he doesn’t want to. She shakes her head.

“Probably so they don’t call off their marriage, right?” She speculates thoughtfully between more sips of her now-cooling milk. “So that they can ride off into the sunset and have some sort of happily ever after while you… while you what? Fade into oblivion? Die? What do you really want, Jungkook?”

Jungkook winces, because that is, admittedly, the part of the equation he’s been ignoring. What happens to him, after Minah and Taehyung get married? Will he even survive the marriage process? What does he want to happen to him? He’s been putting off finding an answer to that question because honestly… Honestly, he is scared. He doesn’t want to die. He’s scared of what will happen to his friends if that’s how things end. But it’s not like he can tell them- how could he look at them after, how could he smile or laugh with them when he’ll have to carry the knowledge that he ruined their lives for the rest of his life, even if he does get better? Is the only way he can live by destroying the happiness of the woman that he supposedly loves? Is this how awful love is? All he feels is an empty hollowness in his chest. The Hanahaki means he loves her, which means love must be a curse. A curse that means his choices are to lose every memory of his closest friend or die. Why must he choose, between his life, and her happiness? How is that a fair choice to ask of him?

And you… that’s not even beginning to figure how you fit into all this. Mostly because he doesn’t know how you fit into all of this. You had thrown up that petal… So that means you must love him, right? So, what happens if he dies, then? Will you follow? Will your disease turn incurable? Will you have to forget him? Or is it early enough stages that the therapy will heal you? Maybe you’re even already healed. The last thing he wants is for you to be dragged down with him, and it’s why he’s avoiding the office. Maybe you can turn around and forget him, if he’s not there- it’s not like you will be losing a lifelong friend if you require hypnotherapy during your treatment. That’s what’s best for everyone, after all. If he just… vanishes from their memory, then all the problems will be fixed. Him and his cursed feelings are the cause for all this misery, potential and actual.

And yet for some reason he feels a painful pang in his chest at the thought. Of how easy it would be for you to leave him behind. It’s what he deserves and yet… it’s not what he wants. He’s trapped in the spider’s web, unable to unravel himself, and it’s not like he wants you trapped alongside him- no, that thought is abhorrent. He just wants… He wants things to be simple. For him to not be sick and for Minah and Taehyung to be happy and to just… go back to work with you. To plan weddings and fix your printers and follow along with your silly but enthusiastic daily tasks. To sit at his desk with the occasional waft of your perfume to remind him that you’re near, fulfilling your dream with his help. But that isn’t an option, is it?

“I want to go back to work.” Is what he finally admits. Seri watches the conflicting emotions play across Jungkook’s face for a long moment before she reaches forward and wraps her fingers comfortingly around his hand.

“Jungkook,” She calls. “I know you mean well. I do. I know that (Y/N) wouldn’t have helped you- I know that she wouldn’t be sick if you were an awful, selfish person. And I know that this situation is far more than any person should ever have to deal with and that you’re trying your best. But I’m not going to sugar coat it for you- this self-loathing is not how to fix this. You’re probably hoping that if you punish yourself enough, things will magically sort themselves out. But that’s the last thing the people who care about you want. They wouldn’t want you to hate yourself or to make yourself suffer. And maybe if you keep it up like this, you’ll be long gone by the time your friends have to deal with the repercussions of you lying to them, for who knows how long. But do you honestly things that’s what’s best for the people you love- and the people who love you? If you’re hurt, then they will be too. Is that what you want?”

It’s not.

He doesn’t want that at all.

But he doesn’t see a way out.

Seri stares at him, taking in the agony in his expression, the pain in his silence… and her stern posture softens into something sad and sympathetic.

“Do you know why this situation is so hard?” She asks him gently. “It’s because you have to suffer in silence. If…” Her voice, surprisingly, cracks, and she clears her throat. “If you had them there, to support you, maybe it would be easier to recover. And maybe things wouldn’t be so grim. And if you can get better, (Y/N) can too. I thought a really long time about this situation before coming here, and how to fix it and what ‘fixing it’ would look like. It’s not like either you or (Y/N) can magically be cured, despite Jin’s best efforts. But I do think you can patch things up and go back to working together, and honestly, I think that’s what you really want anyway. As for how… It all comes down to you, Jungkook. (Y/N) has only thrown up one petal. She can recover and will eventually come back to work- but not while you’re slowly dying. I don’t think she’s the kind of person who could face that. So, you need to get cured and you can only do that if you aren’t afraid of those two finding out. Their wedding is built on a lie and no matter how I look at it, it can’t last like that. So, you need to tell them the truth.” She explains.

“I can’t.” He cries- no, he pleads. Because that’s what he’s doing- he’s pleading with Seri, someone who is essentially a random acquaintance to him, to find him any other way out of this. A way to avoid the crippling humiliation of telling Minah his feelings and getting rejected… of seeing the disappoint and betrayal in Taehyung’s eyes when he learns that his best friend has been longing for his fiancée since college… of the pain of knowing they’re upset because of him. “If I do, then… then…”

Seri watches his breakdown. Her expression isn’t cold or angry- rather, it’s sad. A single tear rolls down her face as she watches the composure that Jungkook has been desperately clinging on to all this time crumbles.

“My friend did the same thing, you know.” She confesses. “When I was in highschool. My best friend. She passed away in my final year of highschool. She thought it would be better if none of us knew. That we’d be happier if she didn’t tell us that she was slowly suffering. From Hanahaki, of all things. Something that is treatable. She could have been treated, but she knew getting treated would mean exposing her illness. I have to live with the knowledge that if she hadn’t been so afraid of what we thought of her that she could still be here. She was in love with my boyfriend at the time and thought our friendship would only survive if I didn’t know. But it didn’t- but not because she was in love with him. I could have forgiven her, if she had just been brave enough to tell me, and to get treatment. Instead she died, all alone. Not even her parents knew she’d been suffering like that.” She’s remarkably composed as she pours her heart out. Another tear rolls down her cheek and she wipes it away with her sleeve. She sniffs and inhales deeply. “Jungkook, please don’t do that to your friends. Take it from someone who knows what it’s like. To know that while I was happy with that guy, some punk I wouldn’t ever see again once I graduated highschool, that my best friend was in pain and refusing treatment for what she thought was my sake. She thought I’d be happy if I could have him and that she could just fade away. But instead, I’m going to have to live with the memory of that for the rest of my life. Your friends… they don’t have to.”

Silence follows in the wake of Seri’s story. He’s honestly… he’s never thought of it from Minah and Taehyung’s perspective, beyond the fact that they’d be sad. In his head, they don’t care enough about him that they wouldn’t be able to be get over it if they had each other. That’s how he’s been justifying it to himself all this time- they’ll be ok if they have each other, even if they don’t have me. That’s what he’d been thinking. He’s just thought of himself as a poisonous weed in the meadow of their happiness.

But looking at Seri… of the heartache in her eyes, the way tears roll down her cheeks even 10 years after losing her friend…

Suddenly he doesn’t see Seri standing in front of him. It’s Minah. When she cries, her eyes swell, and tears dribble from her nose and her cheeks go bright red. She looks comical but the pain in her eyes has always made him feel like he’s been stabbed. That’s what she’ll look like, ten years from now, if he’s lucky. This is the face she will have- this is the pain she will carry for the rest of her life. He pictures Taehyung next to her. Taehyung doesn’t cry as much- instead his eyes go red and he avoids people’s gaze when he’s upset. His sadness is always shown in the way he holds himself- shoulders slouched, fists clenched. Jungkook swallows.

“What if they get mad?” He asks softly. “What if they refuse to see me ever again? What if they cut me out?”

Seri shakes her head.

“Then maybe they weren’t the friends you thought they were. And yeah, they might get mad… they might be hurt… but they’ll forgive you, if they love you as much as you love them. And if they don’t, then you have us. Me… Seokjin… and (Y/N).” She reassures him. “So, what do you say? Will you tell them?”

What Seri is proposing won’t fix the multitude of problems he has. He still has to get treatment and potentially forget Minah forever. He still has to deal with the agony of rejection that will no doubt happen when he tells her. He still has to deal with potentially losing them as friends forever. And he still has to deal with the fact that you aren’t speaking to him. This won’t fix that… and it won’t cure you. But maybe… maybe if he gets treatment… Maybe you won’t have to get cured. That’s not a thought he feels prepared to have or to think through properly, but… without the stress of having to keep his struggles a secret from his two best friends maybe he’ll have the mental and emotional space to finally figure out where you fit into this whole problem. He swallows and meets Seri’s gaze, mind made up.

“I will.” He breathes.

Namjoon had, of course, refused to treat you. Something about a conflict of interest. So, he had referred you to a close friend of his for treatment, but you can’t help but feel that even after two weeks you aren’t making much progress. You never cough up more than a single petal which means the disease isn’t worsening, but you also continue to regularly produce them at inopportune moments which means it isn’t getting better, either.

Dr. Hoseok peers at you curiously. His hands are folded neatly against the surface of his desk and his labcoat is inside out. You don’t have the heart to point that out to him, though, so you just try your best not to let your gaze flicker to the rugged seam against his shoulder.

“I will admit, I was expecting things to progress more quickly in terms of recovery.” Dr. Hoseok admits, rubbing at the back of his neck in bafflement. “Especially since you came so quickly after the first episode. And I have to be honest with you, I do think it’s because you’re in denial.” He confesses.

You blink a few times at him uncomprehendingly, and he sighs.

“We’ve been having almost daily sessions for the past two weeks, (Y/N), and you can’t even bring yourself to say out loud that you have feelings for Jungkook.” He’s not complaining. Dr. Hoseok is a friendly, amicable kind of doctor, known for his great bedside manner and his compassion. He’s just calling you out. You know it, and you know that he’s right, but you can’t help but feel a prickle of resentment at his words.

“That’s because I’m not convinced.” You mutter. He raises an eyebrow. His expression is curious.

“Yesterday you told me you’ve been producing petals every few days since that first episode.” He points out. “That sounds like Hanahaki to me.” He points out. You raise your eyes to meet his gaze desperately.

“Yes, but it can’t be true!” You beg. “I can’t… I can’t have feelings for… for him.”

“Why not?” Dr. Hoseok asks gently. He’s good like that- firm and non-negotiable but also gentle when coaxing information out of you. “Why can’t you have feelings for him?”

Because you can’t. It’s not even that he’s obviously in love with Minah, although that in itself is troubling. And it’s not because you have to work with him, knowing that you have feelings for him and he doesn’t feel the same way. You’re a professional and wouldn’t hold it against him. It’s not even the Hanahaki that scares you.

It was his face, when you first threw up that petal. The fear and horror and sadness. Hadn’t he just told you how much the thought of you being in pain because of him scared him? And you’d reassured him that you weren’t hurt, and that you didn’t have feelings for him, but your own body is betraying you. And you know, you know that the hanahaki, that the petals in your lungs mean that you must have feelings for him. It must mean that you love him. But you can’t.

“Because it’s scary.” You admit softly. You look up and Dr. Hoseok steadily meets your gaze in return. He offers you an encouraging smile and you swallow down your courage and will the words to come forth. “He’s… he’s the kind of guy who blames himself for everything. He’s so worried about the people he cares about that he’ll destroy himself for them. I’ve watched him do it for his two closest friends for the past few months and I don’t want him to beat himself up over this. If I have feelings for him, he’ll never forgive himself for it.”

Hoseok nods contemplatively and pauses to make a few notes on the clipboard in front of him before redirecting his attention at you.

“Last week, you told me that your first episode was actually in front of him.” He recalls, scrolling through his history records on the computer monitor. “So, he’s probably already beating himself up over this. Don’t you think the best course of action, then, is to get better? So that he doesn’t have to blame himself?”

You see the logic in Dr. Hoseok’s words. Reluctantly, you nod your agreement. Hoseok smiles thinly and nods.

“To do that, (Y/N),” He explains. “I need you to be honest with yourself. The idea of these therapy sessions is to help you process what you’re feeling and hopefully gain some sort of closure for the unrequited feelings. There are other, more invasive steps we can take like medication or hypnotherapy, but I don’t want to go there yet. I really think that if you can be honest with yourself, that you can get through this. You’ve done it before, after all, and you didn’t have Hanahaki then. This time is no different. Remember that Hanahaki is random- not dependent on strength of feelings. Think of it like this- Jungkook isn’t a special case. He’s just a guy you had feelings for and that you have to get over. It’s essentially just a crush you have to move on from.” Hoseok tells you.

The thought is an uncomfortable one. You don’t feel like it’s just a crush. Your entire body is revolting against you. Jungkook had never told you how painful the disease is. But now you feel it in your whole body- the way your throat aches, the way your extremities are always cold. The way that you feel you can never get enough oxygen into your body no matter how deeply and slowly you breathe. And this is just the early stages. According to Hoseok, they prefer to grade the disease to decide the necessary treatment. You are grade 1, whereas Jungkook is a whopping grade 5 Hanahaki. You can’t imagine what this must feel like for him. But even then, even if you have the mildest, earliest stage of this awful disease, just thinking of it as unreturned feelings you have to move past seems wrong.

Because, if you’re being honest, you feel so much more towards Jungkook than a mere crush. You don’t want to call it love. It feels pathetic, to be in love with him. But it’s hard to find another way to describe it- this strange yearning in your heart. A yearning that has always been there- a desire, for him to be happy and healthy. You remember, back when you spent the night sharing the hotel room, how full your heart had felt at the sight of his carefree grin. His laughter had made you feel like you were flying. And every painful step of this journey since discovering his illness has been because the thought of his pain makes you feel like your heart is being slowly sawed in half. But are you in love with him? Your body sure seems to think so. And maybe your heart does too.

“What’s going through your mind right now?” Dr. Hoseok asks curiously. You shake your head.

“It… feels strange to think of Jungkook like that.” You confess. Dr. Hoseok nods understandingly.

“It would- Hanahaki is a disease of unrequited love. He is more than just a crush to you, I know. I’m just trying to help you put things in perspective.” He explains kindly. “And I’d imagine thinking of the man you love as an obstacle to move past would feel very wrong. But I thought maybe using less extreme language might help you admit out loud what it is you’re feeling. We can try something else instead though- just tell me what you are feeling, (Y/N).”

You swallow deeply and squeeze your eyes shut. The past two weeks, attending treatment, you’ve been avoiding this question. Hoseok has asked it of you at least once per session. And every time you answer with “I don’t know.” The problem is, you do know. And if you keep avoiding the answer, you’re going to keep going in circles. But even though you know the name for what you’re feeling, you don’t understand it. How did it get to this point? When did it get to this point? Was it when he asked to be friends, the night you shared the hotel room? Was it when you spent the night watching that movie together? Or was it earlier? When you first agreed to let him work with you again? Or maybe even all the way back when he first gave you hope and helped you start up your dream business?

“I… I do love him.” You finally say aloud. Your voice cracks and a single tear rolls down your cheek. Hoseok doesn’t comment on it- he merely nods solemnly. “I… I just don’t know when or how or why.”

“That’s often how these things go.” He says. “I see so many patients who didn’t realise what their feelings are, or how deep they go, until they have their first episode. It’s completely normal. We don’t always know how we’re feeling until something forces us to think it through. It’s probably that way with you and Jungkook. But at the same time… the “how” or “when” or even the “why” actually isn’t as important as you might feel it is right now.”

He pauses there and glances at the clock.

“It looks like that’s the end of our session though.” He tells you. He beams at you. “You did really well today. This step is often the hardest one- I’ve had patients who I’ve had to resort to hypnotherapy because they couldn’t get to this stage. And after this we no longer require the intensive sessions we’ve been having. We can leave it at seeing me just once a week. Speak to the receptionist and make sure you’re booked in, ok?” He says, gathering his papers and getting to his feet. He offers his hand for you to shake. You gratefully accept and smile.

“Thank you, Doctor.” You say, wiping away the tears that have been spilling down your face since your admission that you do love Jungkook. He nods and leads you out in the corridor before leaving you to organise your next appointment with the receptionist.

Just as he does, your phone starts vibrating in your pocket. It’s Seri. You wince, hoping that your business is surviving with just those two running all the event-planning aspects.

“Seri?” You say, as you pick up. She doesn’t answer for a moment or two.

“It’s about Jungkook.” She says urgently into the phone. “I convinced him to tell Minah and Taehyung about his illness.”

People often go silent when they are devastated. After all, what can you say, when your entire world crumbles around you? So Jungkook is not surprised when a deathly silence follows the end of his spiel. Taehyung’s eyes have gone red and Minah hiccups in a repressed sob.

“Can it…” Taehyung finally speaks up, but his voice cracks. “Can it be cured?” He rasps. He swallows and clears his throat, dropping his gaze to where his fists are clenched against the wooden surface of the table. All the colour has drained from his knuckles.

“It can.” Jungkook says. “But… as advanced as it is… The only reliable form of treatment is hypnotherapy.”

“Then do that!” Minah urges. Jungkook smiles warmly at her enthusiasm, but he can’t help but wince at her words.

“Hypnotherapy involves erasing the memories of the affected person.” He explains patiently, much like that doctor had explained to him when he was first diagnosed. “So… I would lose all of our memories together, Minah.”

Her hands fly up and she covers her mouth as a sob wracks her entire body.

“That… that can’t be.” Taehyung cries. “Surely… surely there’s another way?” He pleads, and that had been Jungkook’s response too. He had attempted to bargain his way out. To avoid these two terrible options. He shakes his head with another sad smile.

“If I could somehow… if I could make these feelings go away.” He explains. “That’s the idea behind hypnotherapy. If regular counselling sessions don’t work, then it’s the next step before resorting to surgery. And surgery involves losing my ability to fall in love at all.” He recounts. “I did try, to stop feeling this way… I really tried my best, so that I wouldn’t come between you two. I’ve been attending therapy sessions since your engagement party. But nothing works- I think that hypnotherapy may be the only way.”

He’s imagined the scenario where the two of them find out a hundred times. It’s never been by his own will, or him telling them. In his head, they’d have found out because he had an unexpected vomiting fit, or because Taehyung (who wouldn’t understand the meaning of boundaries if someone threw a dictionary at him) was rummaging around in Jungkook’s drawers and found his meds. But in those scenarios, they always react badly. Taehyung, in particular, would get mad and shout. And Minah would just cry. Tears would pour down her face. And then they’d both refuse to see him ever again and he’d have lost his two best friends forever.

Jungkook never could have imagined how they actually respond- Taehyung stands and walks around the table and pulls Jungkook into a firm hug.

“I’m so sorry.” He sobs, pulling Jungkook in close. The action is surprisingly comforting. “I’m so, so sorry, Jungkook. I had no idea that you were suffering like this.”

Another pair of arms wraps around him- Minah has gotten up from her seat as well, sobbing as she embraces her old friend.

“This whole time, we were planning our wedding like happy idiots and you were dying.” She realises. They must look like quite the sight, the three of them. The other people in the café stare, but Jungkook doesn’t care. He screws up his face as his eyes fill with tears and suddenly, he feels safe. Wrapped in the arms of his two best friends- he had forgotten what it was like, to be supported and cared for by them. Somewhere along the line he had stopped trusting them, and it all comes rushing back, what it is like when he has them. Abruptly, he remembers feeling a similar way the morning when he’d woken up in your apartment, but he quickly pushes the thought into the ‘deal with later’ basket when Minah starts speaking again. “You should have said something!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” He says. His voice is small. “I thought you’d be mad. And I didn’t want you guys to think it was your fault. And… I didn’t want to forget. All my happy memories… they have you in them, Minah. I couldn’t… I couldn’t give them up.”

“Oh, Jungkook.” She sobs. They stay like that for a long moment. You had told him how therapeutic it would be to just cry things out, and he hadn’t realised how right you are until the three of them finish sobbing their hearts out. He’s grateful for you, in that moment- he doesn’t think he could have opened himself up to them like this if you hadn’t been there first. If you hadn’t held him together like this, he could never have gone back to them. And he had wanted to, so badly, for their friendship to return to what it was and for the first time, he feels like maybe it can.

Eventually, the three of them must separate. They pull away and look at each other and abruptly burst into laughter at how ridiculous they look after crying their hearts out. Taehyung and Minah re-take their seats and their eyes are swollen and noses are snotty. Jungkook holds back a chuckle at how ridiculous they must look to the other people in the café.

“Should we… should we call off the wedding?” Minah asks tentatively. She glances at Taehyung, then at Jungkook. “Would that help?”

Jungkook smiles and shakes his head.

“That’s the last thing I want. And it wouldn’t change how you feel, would it?” Jungkook questions. Minah bites her lip and looks away and it’s answer enough. “Don’t cancel the wedding. I don’t want that.”

“But then… How will you get cured?” Taehyung asks. “What can be done? We can’t just live in marital bliss while you’re like this.” Jungkook presses his lips together as he contemplates his answer.

“Well, I won’t forget you.” He promises Taehyung. “And I’ll miss those memories with Minah, for sure. But… maybe we can just make new ones?” He suggests. “I know, it won’t be the same. And I’m scared of the things I’ll forget. Minah was there when mum…. You know. And you were there when I graduated highschool, when I won those sports trophies, when I finally got a job… But we’ll be ok. I’ll be ok.” He promises. “We don’t have to deal with that yet, though. I can go back to therapy. Dr. Namjoon is a huge advocate for therapy and is doing a bunch of research to prove that is can be used as sole treatment of Hanahaki. There’s still hope. I can put off hypnotherapy until after the wedding, at the very least. And I have until then to get better by other means. But in the mean time, if you’ll have me… I still want to be your Best Man and Maid of Honour.”

Taehyung and Minah exchange a long, searching look at each other, before peering at Jungkook.

“We still want that too.” Taehyung says softly. Jungkook releases a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. The whole conversation went so much better than he could have imagined and yet he feels as tired as if he’d just run a marathon. He suddenly wants to go home.

They don’t protest when he excuses himself- no doubt they have things they need to talk over between themselves. He feels oddly light as he exits the café. The sun seems to shine a little brighter as he steps out onto the pavement. Seri was right- he shouldn’t have kept it a secret as long as he had. If he’d told them that first day, when he went to their apartment, would he have saved himself from a year’s worth of suffering? Oddly, despite their positive reaction and the knowledge that things could have been so much simpler from the start, he can’t bring himself to regret keeping it from them. He’s not really sure why, given all the suffering he has endured and the way he has essentially been isolated for a year. If he could go back to the start, knowing that if he’d interrupted Minah and Taehyung back then that they would have supported him this entire time, he feels like he wouldn’t.

It isn’t until he sees a florist as he walks back to where his car is parked that he realises why. A pot of white daisies sits just inside the display window and the answer arrives at him with alarming clarity. He doesn’t regret it because of you. Undoubtedly, had things not played out the way they did, he probably would never have gotten as close to you as he has. He remembers the day he’d woken up in your apartment. His life was supposed to have fallen apart, but it hadn’t. You had been there, in his darkest, scariest moment. Or when the two of you had shared a hotel room and he had fallen asleep with your warmth within arms’ distance- his body is always cold thanks to his Hanahaki but that night he had fallen asleep wrapped in an almost unfamiliar cosy warmth. He remembers your embrace when the two of you had watched that sad movie together, the way it had made him smile. He remembers not being the slightest bit embarrassed or nervous about leaving a letter where he poured his heart out on your desk because he trusts you. He remembers you, and what you have come to mean to him over the past few months. He wouldn’t have those memories with you if things had played out differently. Suddenly, Jungkook is gripped with a powerful wave of longing to go back to that- to when you weren’t avoiding him and before things got so complicated and tangled. He misses you. These past two weeks have been hell. Before you, he had been alone, but now that he knows what it’s like to wake up in the morning and know you have his back… just two mere weeks without you have been harder than an entire year of being sick.

But still, clearing things up with Minah and Taehyung should be enough for him. Now that he has their support, he can get treatment without fear of losing them. He’s not alone anymore- they should fill the void that you left. And once he’s cured, he can go back to work. You’re probably getting treatment too, so the two of you will be able to work together like before and pretend none of this ever happened. His life can finally go back to what it was after more than a year of torment. He has everything he needed- support while he gets treatment, the promise of hope that things can be normal, his two oldest friends back to being there for him. That should be enough- that’s all he thought he had wanted.

But after everything that has happened, suddenly it isn’t enough.

“Jungkook!” A familiar voice jolts him out of his thoughts, and he turns to find Minah panting beside him. She’s clearly run up the street from the café in pursuit of him. She doubles over and supports her weight with her hands on her knees for a moment, before straightening. “Thank goodness I caught up with you.”

He blinks a few times before smiling tentatively at her. He should have known she would come after him. She has never been the kind of person who could leave things on such an awkward note. It is how their friendship had survived their uncomfortable teenage years- she has always been chasing after him, wanting to know if he was ok, wanting to know where his head is at. And it is how it had survived after college, when he first realised that he loved her. Instinctively, he had wanted to push her away- he wasn’t brave enough to tell her how he felt, and he hadn’t been ready for a relationship. But she had clawed her way to his side, clung onto him and refused to let go. Perhaps it would have been easy to get over her if she weren’t so stubborn, but he doesn’t really want her to be any other way. Before, her attitude had felt like a prison but now he just feels relieved- how could he ever have thought that his illness could end their friendship?

“I didn’t give you an answer. You just poured your heart out and I just watched you go.” She laments, when she’s regained her breath. He shakes his head at her.

“I don’t need one- I know what your answer will be.” He admits. She squints at him and frowns but there’s a knowing light in her eyes. He feels like she’s seeing straight through him.

“Kookie.” She says warmly. There’s something sad in her eyes despite the fond exasperation to her tone. “I’ve known you since you were that little boy who hid in the bushes whenever we went to the park because you were scared of the other kids. And despite the fact that you’re now a giant, I know that scared little boy is in there and I know when you’re running away from something.”

Her words floor him because he hadn’t realised that he has been running away until this exact moment. He’d thought that he had made his peace with Minah’s feelings for him but now he realises that until the very end, he is deathly afraid of her answer. What will happen to him, when he knows once and for all that Minah and he can never be?

“It must seem stupid to you.” He says softly. Her gaze is soft as she reaches forward and gently wraps her hands around his. Growing up, Minah had always been taller than him. She had lorded it over him all through their highschool years. And he had grimaced and complained but secretly he had always thought the world was too small for Minah and her big personality. Her big heart filled up every room she entered. But somewhere along the way she became the tiny woman in front of him- both her hands just barely wrap around one of his. When had things changed?

“It doesn’t.” She answers. “But I have to say it out loud, for your sake.”

He winces and smiles- she doesn’t address why she has to say it. But she knows why- he can see it in her eyes. It’s because of that stubborn strand of hope, the one he’s never been able to fully kill. The tiny, ugly part of him that still wants her. Wants her to leave Taehyung and choose him. And it’s the part of him he hates most. That ugly, ugly hope is why things got so messy. Things can never truly go back to normal while he is harbouring this awful longing.

“Hit me with it, then.” He says lightly, trying to cover the mortification and shame filling him with a joking tone. He squeezes his eyes shut and raises his arms like she’s got a gun pointed at him, bracing himself for the words that will finally end everything.

They never come- instead, he flinches as he feels her arms wrap around his middle. She’s warm and her height is such that he can comfortably rest his chin on the crown of her head if he so chooses. But he doesn’t- instead his arms fall limply by his side and he feels a searing pain deep in his chest.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” She says, and her voice is muffled by the soft fabric of his hoodie. “Thank you for loving me, for so long. Thank you for valuing me so much that you went through all this pain to make me happy. And thank you for being willing to stay my friend after all of this.”

She probably knows he’s crying. She can feel the way he sniffs to avoid getting snot in her hair. Her arms tighten around his middle and to his surprise, he realises the front of his hoodie is damp as well. She’s crying too.

“I love Taehyung.” She confesses softly. “Maybe, in another universe, it could have been you and me. But I love him, and I want to marry him. I’m so sorry, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nods and presses his lips together. Slowly, he raises his arms, which had been dangling pathetically at his sides and wraps his arms around her tiny frame. It’s strange, how it can feel so right having her in his arms, despite everything. How Minah feels like she belongs there, like she is made to be in his arms.

But she isn’t. And she doesn’t belong there. She belongs with Taehyung. It hurts. It hurts so much but at the same time the realisation is peaceful. He had always assumed her rejection would kill him. That he would finally succumb to the Hanahaki if she ever killed that stupid flame of hope he was never able to extinguish on his own. Namjoon, in all their sessions, has addressed that stubborn hope before, but Jungkook has always dismissed it. But it feels good to finally address it- to finally lay it to rest like it should have been when Minah and Taehyung first started dating. He feels… clear. He inhales deeply and slowly and feels like the breath reaches all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes. Minah pulls away and steps back and rather than miss her warmth… he feels refreshed. Like swimming in a clear pool on a warm summer’s day. He blinks a few times wonderingly and thinks of you, for some reason. When you pull away from a hug, he always feels cold after, like you’ve sapped the warmth from his body with your absence. Oddly, he does not miss Minah’s warmth like he expects to, but he always finds himself missing yours.

“Are you… are you going to be ok?” She asks tentatively. He smiles and it’s not the sad smile from before, or a placating smile to comfort his despairing friends. This time it’s a genuine, warm smile and even Minah notices the difference as she beams back at him.

“I think I will be.” He admits. “Thank you, Minah.”

She nods and then her smile turns oddly coy.

“Oh, and Kook, about your boss…” She starts. His heart leaps into his throat and he’s so surprised at the sudden mention of you that he abruptly breaks into a coughing fit. When he recovers Minah is flat out grinning. “Actually, never mind. I’ll see you later, Kookie.”

She tosses one last word of farewell in as she leaves him- “Tell Seri I said thank you.”

He doesn’t have the foggiest idea what Minah means or why she wants him to thank Seri of all people, but she’s already out of earshot before he can ask her. With a sigh, he shakes his head and sets off towards his car, whistling a tune cheerfully as he goes.

His apartment door is unlocked. Jungkook distinctly remembers locking it before leaving- he had dropped his keys in the process, and he remembers grumbling to himself as he crouched to pick them up. So, it’s weird that his door is suddenly unlocked. The main offenders would likely be Minah and Taehyung considering they are the only ones who know where he hides his spare key. But he’s just come from meeting them so it’s strange that they would barge into his apartment so soon after such a heartfelt conversation. The only other option is that someone has broken in, which is honestly the last thing he needs after the day he’s just had.

Still, he carefully opens the door and slips inside the entrance hallway and grabs the broomstick resting next to the door for good measure. Wrapping both hands around it like a golf club, he edges through his apartment- he can hear the definite sounds of someone rummaging around in the kitchen. Steeling himself for the inevitable confrontation, he tightens his grip on his broomstick. He charges forward with a loud shout, ready to beat the intruder with his broomstick.

Only to stop mid-shout. The broom stills in its downward swing and you are flinching with your arms thrown protectively over your head. In the long moment it takes him to understand what is happening, he registers the pleasant smell of dinner cooking on his stovetop. The broom clatters to the floor beside you as his grip loosens in surprise.

“(Y/N)?” He asks aloud and you unravel your arms and glare at him owlishly.

“A broomstick? Really?” You say, unimpressed. “At least use something that can cause damage, like a baseball bat or something.”

He frowns at you.

“I don’t play baseball! What are you doing here?” He demands. You blink as you seem to recall your location and you smile sheepishly.

“Well, I was making you dinner.” You admit, gesturing to evidence of your activity around the kitchen- a chopping board and a knife sits on the kitchen counter, and the sink is piled with dirty dishes. The oven is on and baking something sweet smelling and the saucepan bubbles on the stove. You’re making a feast.

“Why?” He blurts stupidly. It is not lost on him, that this is your first face-to-face meeting after your fight and subsequent Hanahaki episode but honestly anything he could have or wanted to say has abruptly fled from his mind thanks to the sheer surprise of having you in his apartment. You make him stupid. You wince and look away, flustered.

“Well, Seri called me, and she said that you…” You swallow nervously and meet his gaze and the tentative way in which you do so is oddly endearing. “She said you’d told Minah and Taehyung everything. So I thought I’d make you dinner cause I knew it would probably have been a rough time for you.”

He feels something in his chest soften at your explanation. Is he really surprised, that despite the current state of your relationship you had still rushed over to make him a warm dinner? Of course, you’d do something thoughtful and sweet after everything that has happened between the two of you. That’s just who you are.

“So, you��re not mad, anymore?” He blurts. “About how I acted?”

You shake your head and turn your attention back to the stove top. He can’t see your expression like this, but he can see the way your shoulders are hunched in discomfort.

“I don’t think I ever was mad. I know why you acted the way that you did.” You admit after a long silence. “I… I was embarrassed. That you didn’t like me. I was hurt because it was a pretty clear rejection. I just didn’t realise that was why I was upset until I threw up.”

Your words hover awkwardly in the air between the two of you. There’s so much to say, and yet he’s at a loss for words. How can he even begin to address this situation?

“I’m sorry.” You both say at the same time. It’s almost eerie, how you say it in perfect tandem with each other, but it’s also baffling to him why you are saying sorry. You take his confused silence as a chance to explain yourself.

“I’m sorry for being sick.” You say. You don’t turn away from where you’re stirring the sauce a little too aggressively. “I’m sorry for avoiding you. It probably wasn’t the best way to handle this situation. But I didn’t want to face you because I knew you didn’t feel the same way and I couldn’t handle the humiliation. Still… this sickness is not something you can control. I knew that before, but I especially know it now. You… you must have been so terrified. I know how much you hate hurting other people and I know it must have driven you crazy to think that you were hurting me, but it’s not your fault. And I’m sorry it took me two weeks to be able to say it, but I-“

Your spiel is cut off by him wrapping his arms forcefully around you and pulling you into a tight embrace. The fact that you even feel the need to apologise it ridiculous. Why should you apologise to him, of all people, for something out of your control? If anything, he should be thanking you, for seeing enough good in him to feel such a way about him. But your baffling apology helps him to realise something. Earlier, Minah’s rejection should have killed him. He should be in hospital right now- if she had done the same thing at her engagement party, he knows he wouldn’t have survived. Even just seeing her in a wedding dress managed to trigger the worst episode of his life and yet her rejection hadn’t elicited so much as a cough from him. And the reason it didn’t is because of you. From the moment you stepped into that bathroom and saw the petals scattered everywhere, you’ve been changing him. Because you’re the kind of person whose first instinct was to help him when you could have just walked away and saved yourself the trouble. The safety he feels with you, the warmth, the security, the kindness you have showered him with- somehow without him noticing those things became like glue piecing his shattered heart back together and that’s how he was able to walk away from Minah with his heart intact. Though she had the power to tear him down, your ability to hold him together is stronger.

“Why would you apologise?” He gasps. You’ve changed him. He doesn’t know how or why or when but he’s different to the person who chose to avoid treatment and suffer alone 12 months ago. Because of you. “You should be mad! You should hate me! How can you be making me dinner, after everything that’s happened?”

You freeze, in his arms, and then offer a tentative shrug.

“How could I ever hate you, Jungkook?” You ask softly.

In that moment, Jungkook has an unbelievably selfish thought. He knows you’re sick with Hanahaki because of him, and that you’re getting treatment, but he has the sudden thought that it would be nice if you didn’t get treatment. Not because he wants you to be sick… but because it means that you would continue to love him. Maybe you could even wait for him, to love you back. In that moment there is no Minah and no Taehyung and no Hanahaki. Just you. In his arms where he thinks it might be nice if you decided you belong.

“Wait for me.” He pleas softly against your skin. He’s quiet enough that you don’t hear his request. He hopes that even though you don’t hear it, that it’s a request you’ll carry with you, where he’s breathed it into your skin. But it’s not something he’ll ask of you out loud. Not yet, at least.

He has a lot of work to do before he deserves to ask you that.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook x reader #btsboulangerie #writing

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jazzforthecaptain · 4 years

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Yesterday was the last day at work. Made it through the exit interview, sent out the goodbye emails, got the emails and phone numbers of folks I want to keep up with. Handed off my key fob, loaded my light-up unicorn into the car.

Everything's been handed off, wrapped up, and shut down. I spent the weeks before I handed in my resignation writing SOPs for every duty I could think of, to help my team and any future person settling into the job. They have resumes for some good people to fill the position. It feels done at the same time it doesn't feel completely real and I keep forgetting that I'm done.

So now that I'm done, here's the abbreviated version.

I'm leaving partly because of the way they handled COVID, but mostly because of the toxic asshole they hired to replace my previous, retired director. In just over six months, he systematically destroyed my creative team and made a job I loved into an anxiety-ridden misery. Endlessly negative, about anything and everything. Behaves as if he's the only competent person in the room, no matter how little skill he has in the subject. I have had my job explained to me almost daily since he arrived in a part time capacity to work alongside our outgoing director in September. Questions about how we do our jobs are framed as insults. Bullshitting answers to questions that wasted my time as I made a project based on incorrect information. Throwing his creative team under the bus when he made a mistake, until his behavior started taking a toll on my preexisting working relationships with managers and employees at my workplace whom I've known for years. We didn't work enough unpaid OT. We weren't working far enough ahead. Nothing was done right, nothing was enough. For someone who 'didn't like to micromanage his designers,' he micromanaged tf out of almost every project. Disrespect, diminishing our competence, disbelieving us when we offered feedback - and feedback of any kind would prompt a long diatribe about how he was right. Body comments about our male coworkers. Weird personal criticism. Like I can't make this up - I got criticized for having a higher temperature when we had to record our temps after reopening. On top of that, LOUD political diatribes with people from other departments that frequently centered my age group as The Problem With the Country Today. My values and my age meant he called me evil, stupid, malicious, out of touch and incompetent by associstion. I'd hear him ramp up and put my headphones on so I didn't have to hear it after it became clear it was going to happen on a regular basis.

I WARNED top brass back in October that things were getting rough in my department, and wasn't believed.

Well, they believe me now.

He's solely responsible for 3 members of the creative team quitting, including myself. Coming back to work after shutdown brought back all the bullshit I'd escaped for 2 1/2 months and made it clear this job wouldn't be sustainable for me. And I can, without hyperbole, lay ALL of that at his feet. Coming back reminded me that if I stayed, even if this asshole fucked back off to wherever he came from in a year, I'd be subjected to whatever new asshole they hired based on his claims of improving the bottom line, and his job description is so vastly outside my experience that I didn't have a hope of getting above him in the chain of command without a complete retrain. Even if the management at my new job turns out to be frustrating, at least it's something I chose.

I didn't pull any punches about him in the exit interview with the VP of internal operations, and I talked to our GM yesterday about him too. I've been in this job long enough to have credit banked with leadership, and damned if I'm going to let the dude who signs this asshole's checks get a filtered HR version of what happened. There are still people I care about there, and I might as well blow that banked credit trying to make things better. He heard me. He also made it clear that other team members from other departments have voiced issues, they're going to deal with it, he's sorry they didn't see it in time for me and he's glad I've found a better opportunity.

I took some vicious, petty satisfaction in unfriending the toxic director's ass on social media accounts IMMEDIATELY after I walked out. I maintained my professionalism everywhere else because I know that it's important not to burn your bridges in case you end up interviewing with former coworkers or managers at some other job. But man, if I found out he worked at another job I wouldn't want it anyway. He made a wreckage of a team I loved, and he's so incapable of taking a shred of personal responsibility that he'll make a wreckage of any other place he works.

#personal jazz things #long post

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lia-jones · 4 years

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Growing Stronger - Chapter Thirty-Six - Preview of What's to Come

It was the day before the big day! Saturday, March 21st. In twenty-four hours my last name would no longer be Jones, and I would officially belong to a new family, one Victor and I were creating for ourselves. A dream come true. I had butterflies in my stomach since I woke up that morning, I could only imagine how I would be on my wedding day.

Victor and I spent most of the day packing and making the last arrangements for our honeymoon. Our conjugal expedition would last a total of two weeks, which I thought was very ambitious, given LFG would be minus a CEO, but Victor was adamant that we took the time to ourselves, since we had been so busy the last few months.

“We need to learn to take time to ourselves.” Victor pointed out once again later that evening, while we drove to Aunt Terry’s ranch for the wedding rehearsal. “I don’t mean just you, me too. I have been solely focused on work for way too long. Our lives are changing, so should we.”

“You are not wrong, but I still think your no phone policy won’t last long. Eventually, Goldman will need something from you. Two weeks is a long time.” I frowned at him.

“At least just for the first three days. I want those to be just for us.” He turned down the familiar dirt road that led to his aunt’s property, stopping the car right at the entrance. “Ready?” He smiled tenderly. I took a deep breath, my heart starting to beat faster.

“Yes.” I nodded with conviction.

The dusky sky was getting darker, the fiery hues being replaced with dark ones, as we drove down the dirt road. It was like I was entering a fairytale. Every tree lining the road was covered in beautiful colored ribbons, and from them hung jars with flickering candles, lighting our way to the mansion. By the gates, two huge golden letters, V and A, signed the place of what would be called by the media the most important event of the year: our wedding. The gates and the walls by them were adorned with beautiful white roses and peonies, and huge lit candles were strategically placed by them, giving the whole area a whimsical atmosphere. The child in me was expecting to see fairies floating about, like I was watching one of those Tinkerbell movies.

“I think it’s safe to assume you like it.” Victor gave me a smug smile. “You’re yet to say a word.”

I had helped plan some of the wedding, but the big plans were in Victor’s and the wedding planner’s hands, and Victor insisted on keeping some of it a surprise for me. When I looked at the man I loved, my eyes were brimming with tears of joy.

“It’s perfect.” I couldn’t help my wide grin. I was so happy. And seeing him grin back just as wide made things even more perfect.

As we entered the gates and I observed the garden, perfectly illuminated in the now darkening night, I felt my heart fill with joy and love. I was so distracted with my professional life, only awakening slightly to my personal one, that I completely forgot how romantic and magical Victor could be. This was clearly an ode to our love. It had the care and the tenderness I felt from him every day times a million. It was dazzling.

“This weekend, I want you to be surrounded by nothing but joy, beauty, and love.” He spoke with tender eyes looking at me, containing a million emotions, most of which I couldn’t decipher, but one was very clear.

Bernard met us at the door and we strolled around in the garden for a while, admiring in detail what we were sure we wouldn’t be able to the following day, while he showed us every aspect of the decorations. After spending some time with him, his English was starting to sound more normal to me, although peonies were still a serious trigger for my laughter. Noticing that it was getting late, we headed for the wedding venue. The officiant was already expecting us at the gazebo, along with my family and some of Victor’s family, which included his father, some of his aunts and uncles, aunt Terry and her partner, Susan. Gregory didn’t look happy.

The rehearsal was pretty simple, as we assume our positions, my father walking me down the aisle and taking me to Victor, and the usual exchange of vows that we chose to memorize instead of repeat. It was pretty uneventful, but of course, no wedding is a true wedding without a story to tell. And although this was a Lee wedding, held to the highest of standards, ours wouldn’t be an exception.

After we said our vows and pretended to exchange our rings, the officiant made the dreaded declaration that is always so popular in movies: If anyone has reason to be against this wedding, speak now, or forever hold your peace.

This part was so useless nobody was actually paying much attention. That is, until we heard a loud NOOOOOOOOOO coming from the end of the aisle. It turns out, it was Mia’s assistant, Minor, who was playing something on his cellphone and apparently was not having a great game. But that wasn’t actually the funniest part. Gavin, who was sitting by his side, got up ready to fall on him like a boulder, but not before Mia, red as a tomato, got up from Gavin’s side, smacked Minor hard in the stomach, making him double over and let out a loud ooofff.

Victor witnessed it with an expression that screamed What are these idiots doing now? To me, it was the funniest thing I had ever seen since blue penises. I stifled a laugh, noticing Greg watching us closely with judgemental eyes. But, truth be told, I knew what was coming, and I wouldn’t be able to hold it in. Pretending to show affection to my beloved future husband, I leaned my face against his chest, letting myself laugh a little. Noticing it, Victor rubbed my back.

“Quit it, Andrea.” He whispered between clenched teeth. I was lost. Victor’s reprimand only made me laugh more.

“Is she crying?” I heard Terry ask. “Oh, honey, there’s no reason to cry.”

“No.” I heard Victor’s voice, flat as a board. “She’s laughing.” He turned to me. “Ok, enough already. It wasn’t that funny.”

But it was. I replayed the entire scene again in my mind, picturing Minor’s face getting slightly purple with embarrassment and surprise, and tears started to come.

“The little woman…” I heard the officiant’s voice, strained as he tried not to laugh. “For someone so little she sure does pack a punch!” He let out a hearty laugh.

“Just like the bride!” My brother chimed in, laughing, and soon I could hear my parents laugh too.

They say there is nothing as contagious as laughter. One by one, all the guests present started laughing in unison. Even Victor, who was trying to keep it together, threw composure to the wind and was laughing too, his chest rumbling against my cheeks.

When, after some very long minutes, the laughter stopped and I was able to lift my face from Victor’s shirt, Gavin, Mia and Minor were nowhere to be seen, and Gregory was shooting daggers in my direction, a look of disgust on his face. The officiant was still wiping tears from his cheeks, trying to catch a breath.

“I have to say, in 10 years of practice, I have never heard a single objection, let alone such a heartfelt one!” He chuckled. “Well, let’s finish this practice. Does anyone else object to this wedding? If that’s the case, I think we can summon the little woman again!”.

I laughed loudly and the room followed me again. Victor gave the officiant a stern look.

“Skip that part tomorrow.” Victor instructed the officiant.

There is definitely no cleansing power like laughter. We left the rehearsal in good spirits, Victor particularly excited for the next activity.

It is customary for the groom to plan a dinner with all his favorite things before the wedding, usually during rehearsal dinner. My father and Victor were planning this for weeks, constantly talking on the phone or via Skype, constructing the perfect wine tasting dinner. Victor hired three renowned chefs to cook for us that night, one of them being his teacher Guy Sauvant, and some sommeliers to explain the wines and the pairings to the guests.

The decoration of the tent was truly Victor’s taste, and it somehow reminded me of old cellars and antique parlor rooms, intricate iron candle holders and dark velvet sofas and chairs, images of paintings everywhere, decorating the menus, hanging on the walls or in the background of the bars.

We sat and ate, and I noticed how relaxed Victor seemed to be around my family. Although we were trying to give both families the same attention, we would naturally gravitate towards mine, and Victor seemed to enjoy himself more in their presence, either engaging in light conversations with my parents, or laughing at some joke Joshua had made, or simply holding Ana on his lap when she demanded attention. He had clearly been adopted by the Jones, but it seemed he had adopted them too.

Gregory walked up to us while we were laughing about a story my father was telling from one of his trips.

“Greetings to the happy couple. It seems like my son has such a busy life nowadays that he doesn’t have time to greet his own father.” Gregory shook our hands, his expression as dry as the desert.

“I was waiting for you to finish your meal.” I noticed Victor’s shoulder’s tense as he shook his father’s hand. “I hope everything was to your liking.”

“I can’t say I’m terribly impressed so far.” Gregory gave me a weird look and turned to Victor. “Make sure your fiancée shows a little more restraint tomorrow. We don’t want that ridiculous scene in front of our guests.”

“You mean your guests.” Victor kept his poker face but his ears became red, revealing his anger. “The people I know nothing about and yet you insisted I’d invite.” He gave Gregory a defiant look. “Moreso, please remind yourself that this is Andrea’s wedding too, and she is allowed to laugh as much as she wants, even if that is disagreeable to your guests.”

Gregory took a step further, ready to charge with some venomous words. I held Victor’s hand tight, anticipating a confrontation.

“Gregory!” My mother touched Gregory’s arm amicably. He looked at his arm and then at her, as if he was considering if he had been infected by something. “Have you tried the cherry wine my husband brought? Come, I’ll serve you some while we chat, I would love to know the father that raised this remarkable young man.”

Wise as always, my mother knew that a stroke of Gregory’s ego would be enough to divert his attention. The flattery made him quickly conclude she was worthy of his attention, and both walked away to get the cherry wine. Sitting by my side, Victor was fuming.

“It’s ok, let it go.” I rubbed his upper arm lovingly.

“That’s exactly why I didn’t want him here.” He mumbled, turning at me after. “How are you not angry? He basically implied you were some idiot I should control.”

“I don’t care what he says.” I shrugged. “Besides, he’s the real idiot if he thinks he’s going to ruin my night. You shouldn’t let him ruin yours either.”

Victor nodded, coming closer for a short sweet kiss. We heard a soft clink from afar. It was my brother, in the center of the room, gathering everyone’s attention.

“Good evening, everyone. For those who don’t know me, my name is Joshua, and I’m Andrea’s twin brother. If you are wondering if that is actually true, because I’m taller and better looking, yes we are twins, no, I didn’t steal all the food in the womb, and yes, despite being the second born, I am the best twin.”

Everybody, especially my family laughed, while I playfully stuck out my tongue to my brother, Victor chuckling with the both of us.

“Hmmm… So what can I say about the bride and the groom? I’ll start with the bride, since I know her since we were two fertilized eggs inside my mother's womb.” Josh continued. ”Growing up, Andrea was a tomboy, refusing to live up to her gender role, always defying the rules and sticking true to what she believed in. I remember at a relative’s wedding, we were eight at the time, she tore her dress trying to show some ‘snotty boy,’” he used air quotes, “that girls could climb trees just as well as boys. The dress caught up in one of the branches and ripped apart, as Andrea dangled happily in one of the branches, her underwear showing.” There was another wave of laughter in the room. “My mother was livid but didn’t ground her, because she did climb the tree faster than the boy, even with her dress tearing apart. And even though she now is a respectable lady of the elite, and such dress ripping habits are frowned upon, I am sure she will still be the Andrea I’ve always known, a small yet concentrated force of nature, defying everyone that tries to put her down and showing us all there can be incredible strength in adversity.” Joshua’s throat caught up with emotion. “I’m so incredibly proud of you, sis.” He turned to Victor. “Now what can we say about our CEO.”

“This should be good.” Victor spoke to me, his flat voice not matching the smile he had in his eyes.

“Perhaps our groom doesn’t know this, but we had heard of him way before the two started dating. The truth was, Andy originally didn’t like Victor very much. Well, that’s an understatement. Every time she referred to him, she used some very original terms. My two favorite still are “Lord Victor, King of Highhorseland” and “Victor Lee, the Slayer of Souls and Destroyer of Joy”.

Again, everybody laughed, including Victor, but he still gave me a dirty look. I could feel myself seriously blush.

“That was before I knew the real you, you know that.” I defended myself. He simply smiled and softly rubbed his nose against mine.

“But the mighty King of Highhorseland must’ve done something right and somehow convince damsel Andrea to ride with him because, to our surprise, he flew across the ocean for about twelve hours just to see Andy defend her thesis and… they seemed pretty intimate, if you know what I mean. And that’s when I found out three undeniable truths about my future brother in law: one, he is persistent, because I bet it was no picnic trying to woo this one.”

Victor shook his head and everybody laughed. Thank you, dear brother.

“Two, he is caring and extremely giving. He flew from a distant country, ready to face our family and Dr. Mariana’s thorough interrogation, just to make my sister happy. And by the way they held each other, the way she looked at him, she was. It’s obvious you make my sister very happy Victor, and I have to thank you for that. Thank you for taking such good care of her.” Joshua was misty-eyed again. “And three!” Joshua cleared his throat. “Victor is a very strong man. Not only did he date hurricane Andrea, he’s marrying her. Now seriously, I wish the best to both of you! Victor, welcome to the family!”

Everybody clapped and we nodded, thanking them for the applause and the best wishes, although it was more of a roast than a best wish speech. Either way, it was the way my brother would say I love you , through comedy and sarcasm, a mask not very different from the one Victor wore with his poker face. Goldman stood up, and took the mic from Joshua.

“Victor, Andrea, it is with great joy that I come here to witness your commitment, and what I believe is the beginning of a lifetime of happiness. I still remember the first day Andy came to LFG and thinking she wouldn’t last a day there. But she was a pleasant surprise, manning the desk in no time and impressing us all. Apart from some minor mishaps with a fountain pen.”

I looked at Victor with wide eyes, feeling like a burglar caught red-handed. Way back when, when I started my internship at LFG and was moved to Victor’s office, I accidentally broke his favorite fountain pen. It was a stupid accident, I unwittingly threw it to the ground while getting some documents from his desk and stepped on it. As I saw the ink spread on what seemed to be a brand new rug, my heart nearly stopped. Fortunately, Goldman entered the room, and, seeing the panic in my eyes, he swiftly exchanged the broken pen with a new one from his front pocket, and spilled coffee on the ink stain to hide my crime. And soon we were partners in crime, joined in a secret that, if revealed, would make Victor have my head.

It looked like it was time for my punishment. I just hoped the wedding would reduce my sentence.

“Stop acting so nervous.” He smiled at me. “I knew it was you all along.”

“YOU DID?!” I was appalled. “How? Why didn’t you say anything?” He kept quiet this whole time, letting me live with the guilt?

“Unless Goldman was trying to poison me, coffee isn’t blue. And I could tell the pen I was using was brand new. After that, it was a matter of finding out who truly did it. The guilty look on your face the next morning was the final clue.” He came closer, pecking the tip of my nose. “I knew that if I mentioned you would feel bad, and most likely want to leave LFG again. I couldn’t allow that.”

I smiled at him, my heart warm for knowing he wanted me close to him since the very start. We turned to Goldman, who was still giving his speech.

“... a good man, with a heart made of gold. Yes, he may sometimes be demanding, but he is that way for the good of the company and to allow us to keep our jobs. And Andy has changed him deeply in that department as well, he’s very different from what he used to be. I mean, when I started seeing him so happy I started tasting all his drinks, fearing she was putting something in them.”

“WHAT?” I heard Victor shout by my side, making me laugh hard when I saw his disgusted expression.

“And I should probably finish my speech, if I still want to keep my job. Let’s hear it for the happy couple! A happy life for you two!” Goldman rushed to finish. Needless to say, everybody laughed.

After a few more shorts speeches, with guests wishing us a happy life, gushing about how Victor and I looked cute together, some more lively music started playing. Victor and I sat in one of the sofa’s bantering with my parents, his hand on my waist, holding me lovingly, while I occasionally nudged his chest with my head. Eventually, Terry and Susan came to sit with us.

“Are you enjoying yourselves?” Victor asked.

“Actually, I would like to thank you both for inviting me to the wedding.” Susan spoke. “It means a lot to us.”

“No need.” Victor answered with a frank smile. “My pleasure.”

“I’m just sorry I was so oblivious before.” I chimed in, slightly embarrassed. “I didn’t even invite Susan to my bachelor party.”

“It’s alright.” Terry took my hand, turning it. “I can predict a double date in the near future, after you are done honeymooning.”

“That will take a while.” Victor joked.

“What is this I’m hearing now? Terry’s assistant is invited? Is it the theme of this wedding to display the stains of this family for the whole world to see?” We heard Victor’s father say, behind us.

“I have invited them.” I stood up, facing him. “If she’s with your sister, she’s part of the family.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Gregory spat. “You are definitely unfit to be a Lee. You lack the decorum, the finesse-”

“Ok, enough.” My mother approached us, trying to lighten the mood. “We don’t want to start a fight here, Gregory, our kids are getting married tomorrow.” She paused, holding her hands up, urging us all to calm down. “Let’s all get some sleep, tomorrow we’ll all have a big day. Agreed?”

“Either she goes, or I go. You choose.” Gregory warned Victor. Victor was about to retort when my mother intervened again.

“Please, no need to choose.” She looked at Gregory warmly. “This isn’t about any of us, it’s about Victor and Andrea. Let’s get some sleep, come on. Off you go, guys.”

“Do you still think it was a good idea to invite him?” Victor sighed, frustrated, as we walked towards the house.

“Hey, stop worrying about it.” I held his bicep, squeezing it tight. “Tomorrow we will have the wedding and we will be too busy to even know he’s there, and he won’t dare misbehave with all the media around him. And after that, we will only deal with him if we want to. It’ll be over soon.”

“You are right. He will forget all about us the moment all of this ends.” He smiled at me as we walked in, heading to my bedroom. “Go get your things and come sleep with me.”

“No, we should spend this night apart.” I smiled, stroking his chest lovingly. “To make it more special the night after the wedding.”

“We’ll spend the night after the wedding on a plane to Paris.” He grabbed my waist, pulling me closer, luring me in. “Come sleep with me, I can’t sleep without you.” He kissed my neck softly, teasing me.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Lee, but my answer is no.” I pushed him away playfully, only to get a sigh in response. “I’m saving myself for marriage.”

“You can’t even say that with a straight face.” He gave me a flat expression, which only made me laugh.

“I bid you goodnight.” I pecked him on the cheek. “Sleep well.”

Obviously, I wouldn’t get away with it. He pulled me against him once more, kissing me so passionately I had no choice but to melt in his arms.

“Fine.” He broke the kiss and let me go, chuckling when I slightly whimpered. “No, no, don't complain. My fiancée wants to sleep away from me and her wishes are my command. She shall sleep alone tonight.”

Later that night, alone in my bed, I was tossing and turning. Not only did I miss my bed, but mostly I missed Victor, his touch, his smell, his warmth. This was going to be a lot harder than I thought. With a heavy sigh of resignation, I opened my bedroom door and left, taking my pillow with me. Time to get some sleep.

#mister love queens choice #mldd #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #victor x oc #mlqc fanfic #love and producer

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matrixaffiliate · 4 years

Text

Endeavor

Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

Two chapters today, because I know last week's ending was a cliffhanger and I do have a heart. :) Next week's update is on Saturday, September 5th, and we'll move to Vic's POV for a little bit.

Chapter 7

Ted read the text message from Sunday again.

Ron: Ted, come to my office at headquarters on Monday at 8. I hope you're having a good holiday.

Ted looked back at Bread & Butter headquarters from the car park and took a deep breath. At least he didn't have to see Vic first thing.

Talking everything through with Nicki had taken the rest of that Friday night and well into the early morning of Saturday, but it had felt amazing to tell someone everything, every stupid detail. And Nicki listened.

That was what probably made the last week less hellish. Just having had someone listen to what his life had been like for the last six months and how he'd laid it all on the line for a woman who ultimately didn't want him, it had lightened the load and made him feel more confident in his decision to walk away from Vic entirely. It still killed him, but he had to move forward, he had to move on.

But first, he had to find out what Ron had planned for him, and whether or not it would be working in the same building as Vic.

"I'm here to see Ron Weasley," Ted nodded to Ron's receptionist.

"Ted Lupin?" He looked down at his computer screen.

"That's me."

"Go right on it," he motioned towards the door to the left.

"Thanks," Ted hiked his backpack up a bit higher over his shoulder and walked into Ron's office.

"Ted!" Ron stood and shook his hand. "Enjoy your holiday then?"

"It was good, thank you." Ted sat in the seat opposite Ron at his desk.

"Glad to hear it," Ron picked up a sticky note from his desk and squinted at it before shaking his head and tossing it in the bin. "So, now, on to the important things." He leant forward and smiled. "You might be surprised to know that I have big plans for the kitchen equipment side of this business, Ted. I want to turn this little department into its own venture."

Ted grinned, "Vic, and I suspected that was your goal."

"Brilliant the two of you are," Ron laughed. "Well, no beating around the bush about it then. Ted, I want you to be my front man. I've asked Bread & Butter's Chief Marketing Officer, Branson Kilpatrick, to be your mentor but everything for Weasley Commercial Kitchens' marketing is in your hands."

Ted felt his eyes trying to pop out of his head. "You're kidding!"

"Absolutely, not," Ron laughed. "You've proven your worth ten times over in the six months you've worked for me, and I know you're driven. With Branson helping to guide you, I have full confidence in your ability to market this company to the top."

Ted laughed as the adrenaline and excitement coursed through his body. "Wow! Thank you! I'm, I won't let you down, Ron!"

"I'm sure you'll do a fine job. Now, I'll need you to run over to that little office space and collect your things. You'll be moving into an office here so you can call on Branson when you need him and so he can check in on you."

Ted felt the elation rush out of him, and it was immediately replaced with anxiety. "Is, er, do you know if Vic is in today?"

"Oh," Ron frowned, "She didn't tell you? Vic quit the same day you called me about wanting to move to the marketing department."

Ted felt like the wind had been kicked out of him.

"Oh, er, alright, so I'll just go grab my things then."

Ron nodded, "Let me show you your office here first. You're having lunch with Branson and me this afternoon, and then tomorrow you're jumping headfirst into getting Weasley Commercial Kitchens standing on its own two feet."

Ted followed Ron down the hall to what was probably a conference room but now housed several desks.

"You get the first pick of the desks. I'm going to be bringing in the rest of the team over the next few weeks." Ron gestured around the room.

Ted set his backpack down on one of the desks that faced out the window.

"I think I'll just take this one."

"Excellent," Ron looked at his watch. "I have a meeting to run to, but I'll be by with Branson at noon and we'll grab something to eat while we get you rolling on your new position."

"I'll be here," Ted nodded, "and thank you. I promise I won't let you down."

"You're the man for the job, Ted, I'll see you in a couple of hours." Ron headed back toward his office.

Teddy tested out the chairs before picking the one he liked best. It was a normal enough task to keep his brain from spiraling.

Vic quit.

Those two words echoed in his head as he climbed into his car and drove to the little office space. It seemed impossible. He knew that she wouldn't be there, but he honestly couldn't picture the office without her. She was so much a part of that space for him that even though he told himself she wasn't in there, his palms were sweating and his heart beat faster as he unlocked the door and flipped on the light.

Her desk was empty, barren of all the things that had been there before. Then he noticed that the office was also bare. The supply closet was open and empty. The card table and folding chairs were gone. The only reason anyone would know people worked in that space was that Ted's desk was still covered in his things.

Ted sighed; it was as though she'd never been in his life. He should be grateful for it, but he couldn't ignore the way that his chest ached at the thought of it. He couldn't wrap his head around it, but he had wanted her to be here. He had wanted to see her, even if it would have hurt more than he could bear, even if it would have been the worst thing for him, he had wanted to see her.

It didn't take long to pack everything into the printer paper boxes he'd snagged at Bread & Butter and loaded into his car. Doing one more check of the office before locking it up for the last time, Ted shook his head. The one place that he felt somehow belonged to him and Vic was gone.

He managed to get his boxes up to his desk in the new office, but as he sat down to unpack someone knocked on the door frame.

"Ted Lupin?"

Ted spun in his chair to see a man with a stack of papers in his hand.

"That's me."

"I'm Fritz, I'm here to go over the paperwork with you to transition into Weasley Commercial Kitchens."

"Sound like a plan," Ted grabbed his laptop from his bag and motioned to the empty desks, "Why don't we set up over there."

The transition paperwork took what felt like an eternity and by the time they were done, Ted no longer had anything to do with Bread & Butter. He went back to unpack his desk, feeling even further from Vic than he had at their old office.

He needed to have this distance. He needed to move on. Even Nicki agreed that since Vic had chosen Sean, the best thing he could do was put space between himself and her. He had to move forward. He had to move on.

But he didn't want to and it sucked. Because a part of him hadn't been able to stop thinking about the way Vic's lips felt against his. A part of him could still feel her hip under his hand, her fingers laced through his. A part of him was trapped in that memory, and a part of Ted wanted to stay trapped.

"Ted Lupin?"

Ted turned to see a woman at the door.

"How can I help you?" He nodded.

"I just need to get the asset tag numbers for your laptop and dock set up." She lit up her tablet.

"Sure thing," Ted pulled out his laptop and set it down on his desk before getting his dock set up out of the boxes he packed it all in.

She was out the door in just a few minutes and Ted returned to unpacking but was again interrupted. Someone came by to confirm his information for business cards. Then someone else walked in to get his shirt size for company shirts. Right behind them was another person who needed a quick photo of him for the website until they could schedule a photographer for a professional headshot. Before Ted knew it, Branson and Ron were at the door ready for the lunch meeting, and Ted still hadn't unpacked.

"Don't sweat it, you've got time." Ron smiled. "Grab your laptop and let's head down to the main conference room. We'll order some food to be brought in and get this ball rolling."

Ted looked over his things before grabbing his laptop and following Ron and Branson out of the conference room turned Weasley Commercial Kitchens headquarters.

It turned out that Ted was just a part of Ron's grand plan. He was going to have Bread & Butter be the mentor to Weasley Commercial Kitchens and bring in new people, young people, to be the chief executives.

"Do you have everyone already hired?" Ted asked as he popped a crisp in his mouth.

"Almost everyone, I need to find a COO, but I have the rest of the staff coming in over the next two weeks."

"I thought your niece was the COO?" Branson frowned.

Ron nodded, "She was, but she quit a couple of weeks ago, even after I offered her the position. I have some ideas though, and Athena is helping me narrow it down."

Ted nearly choked on his crisp and went into a coughing fit. Ron pounded on his back and Branson handed Ted his Diet Coke.

"Alright there, Ted? What got you to choke on your food?" Ron finally stopped pounding on Ted's back when Ted started to breathe again.

"I, er, I, I was just er, going to ask who Athena was." Ted lied.

"Oh," Ron sat down, "Athena Yazzie is my COO."

Ted nodded, but he had a hard time concentrating through the rest of the meeting. Had Ron told Vic what he was planning to hire Ted too? Did she know she walked away from the opportunity of a lifetime? Did she do it because of him? Or had Vic not wanted any of this in the first place? Had it all just been a joke for her when Ted had tried to teach her business? Had she been worried to make things awkward so she never told him she had no desire to learn what he was teaching her? Or was she running from him and his out of line behavior?

But whatever those answers were, it was obvious that Vic wouldn't be coming back to him. She had taken herself completely out of his life. She left what Ted would consider a dream career position to get away from him. She was going to move on, she was going to marry Sean. She would tell the story to her girlfriends in thirty years about the coworker that she had to run from because what kind of arse kisses an engaged woman? He would be a good laugh in the pages of her history.

Meanwhile, she would be the ache in his chest, the one who stole his heart but wouldn't ever be his. Vic would be the woman that kept a piece of his heart with her for the rest of his life. She was gone, and while he might move on one day, Ted knew that he'd never have the whole of his heart back. A portion of him was hers, and no one would ever be able to get that back for him.

The meeting took most of the rest of the day. It was nearly five when Ron and Branson decided they were finished for the day and gave Ted a stack of assignments. Ted was grateful for the distraction though. He felt like he might be able to bury himself in work and stop feeling the ache he felt over everything with Vic. Maybe if he worked hard enough, he'd forget about her and could try to live his life, move it forward, move on.

The events of the day had seemed to emphasize his need to move on. Everything was working to wipe Vic from his life, every memory surrounding her was slowly losing its place in reality. And while he knew it was probably a good thing in the grand scheme of his life, Ted felt that ache in his chest trying to collapse him, even with his brain knowing that he should be moving on.

Ted sat down at his new desk to finally finish getting his things settled. He pulled a folder from one of the boxes and opened it to decide where it ought to go, but stopped when he saw the top page.

There, written in Vic's loopy handwriting, was their antique time stamp machine sign.

A turquoise sticky note was at the bottom.

Congrats! You're going to be amazing! - Vic

Ted grabbed an empty folder and carefully placed the sign in it before putting the folder in his backpack. He'd finish unpacking tomorrow. He wanted to finish today knowing that Vic hadn't been completely removed from his life. No matter how much he probably needed to leave her memory behind, he didn't want to.

He didn't need to move on today. He'd start trying tomorrow.

#Endeavor #tedoire #tedoire fanfiction #tedoire au #tedoire muggle au #teddy x vic #ted x vic #teddy lupin x victoire weasley #teddy lupin #victoire weasley #muggle au #next gen au #next gen fanfic #next generation #next generation muggle au #romance #fluff #coworkers romance #harry potter fanfiction

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amethyst2900 · 4 years

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SO, after a year of basically not wanting to write I finally got off my ass and started to write the Detective!AU again. Probably not the best time to write this AU but hey, my my mind hates me. Anyways, here’s the better version of chapter three because i hated the last one :) TW: Literally a dead body, so expect that kinda stuff. And blood, obviously. -- Chpt 1 Chpt 2 --- Read on A03 __________ The drive to wherever Stephen was taking them was...interesting. Loki’s never ridden a motorcycle before but he could tell that the way Stephen was driving was a bit reckless. Turning corners without slowing down, running the occasional red light. (“We’re cops it’s allowed,” Stephen had said before Loki could comment on it.) And don’t get Loki started on how...uncomfortable it was. Having to hang on the Stephen so he wouldn’t fly off, plus the uncomfortable heat coming from the seat wasn’t helping. Neither did being stuck in a traffic jam. “Dammit, I hate living in New York,” Stephen said, sighing. Leaning forward so that his head was resting on the speed meter. “Then just move, it’s as simple as that,”

Stephen cast a glance back at him. “Yeah, like it’s that simple to pick up your life and move to a completely different state,” Stephen snorted and Loki forced down a frown that was threatening to come up, instead he let his face rest in the most neutral position it could. Because he had been forced to pack his life away, as a prince, as a god. All because of one fucking thing that he could’ve prevented. Instead of voicing his demons out loud he just said. “Well, I think you’ve done that before. No offense but you seem somewhat kinder than the normal New Yorker. Plus the accent is a bit off,” Stephen laughed at that, a warm chuckle that made something in Loki’s chest spark. He decided to put that spark in a little box and set it on fire. He would think about what it meant later. Probably. Yeah, he won’t. “You’re right on that one, not many people notice though. So, good on you I guess.” “It’s why Stark hired me, I guess,” For a few moments, neither of them said anything else as Stephen moved the motorcycle forward for what only seemed like a fucking inch. Norns, why did the Avengers have to make their home in New York? Why couldn’t be someplace without so many people in it? Like Kansas. Which he only knew about from watching The Wizard of Oz. That movie was a guilty pleasure of his and he would admit to no one that he watched it. “Where did you grow up?” Loki asked after what seemed like an eternity. “Sorry?” “Where did you grow up, Strange?” He asked once again, annoyed that he had to repeat himself. Stephen shifted a bit around Loki’s arms before realizing that yes, Loki was in fact still hanging onto him even though they were practically parked. In Loki’s defense, he didn’t know when they would be taking off again and he’d rather not completely fall off into the tires of cars thank you very much. “You’ve read my file, and I haven’t read yours so it only fair that you tell me where you grew up at the very least.” “Yeah, Uhm,” Stephen paused and took a deep breath like he was trying to settle his nerves. “I grew up in Nebraska, not as interesting as Norway though,” Loki hummed and nodded, trying to seem like he knew what this ‘Nebraska’ was. He really should’ve paid attention when the little spider was trying to teach them about all the states in America. He’ll look it up when he gets home. “Couldn’t have been that boring, every place has something charming about it,” That charming thing to Loki usually had been magic cults. People out in the countryside had nothing to do really. Stephen made a non-committal noise and Loki knew that it was the end of the conversation. Loki sighed and settled back a bit as Stephen started to move forward at a slow, but steady pace. All Loki managed to get from that conversation was the fact that Stephen was a heavily guarded person. Which, he already assumed, but it was the fact that he was so smart about it was what caught Loki off guard. Most people with secrets to hide would talk so much just to make you not think about it, but Stephen didn’t. Stephen stayed silent and choose his words with care. Despite himself, Loki did have to admit that he was impressed. Not all Midgardians were as calculating as Stephen was. Though, he did have the advantage of knowing that Loki could spot lies, so that dialed it back a little. As Loki felt the wind in his hair getting faster and faster as they finally picked up some speed, he decided that he definitely wanted to know what the hell Stephen was hiding. No matter the cost. He could afford to lose this job anyways, it wasn’t like he was getting paid. ___________ Ten minutes and three stoplights driven through Stephen finally parked in front of a rundown bar connected to the other buildings on the street. A glowing neon sign at the top indicated it as ‘The Wandering Glass’ though, the last part in ‘Glass’ was out, making it look like ‘The Wandering Gl’. Policemen surrounded the bar, making sure anyone who walked by couldn’t stay there for too long. As soon as the motor of the motorcycle turned off Loki had his arms off of Stephen and was standing up, brushing his suit off. “Took long enough to get here,” Loki murmured to no one in particular as he straightened his tie. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his reflection on one of the rearview mirrors and scowled at himself. His hair, which he prided himself in taking expert care of, was messed up worse than Hel itself. “This stupid ride ruined my hair,” He said, glancing up a directing his scowl towards Stephen who glared back at him. “Sorry, princess, I’ll bring a helmet next time if that’ll make you happy,” At those words, something in Loki’s mind clicked and he felt like such a dumbass for not realizing it as soon as he got on the damn thing. Stephen wasn’t wearing a helmet. When Stark told him the basics of cars, which he once again didn’t pay much attention too but he at least caught the part where Stark talked about motorcycles for exactly ten seconds. He remembers Stark saying that it was highly unsafe to not wear a helmet, that it was basically guaranteed death if they got in an accident. “Why don’t you have one now?” Loki asked, more forcefully than what’s normally socially appropriate on Earth. He set his jaw and stared at Stephen. Stephen didn’t point out his tone of voice and instead just shrugged. “I don’t need it,” Loki stared at Stephen like he was an idiot. Because he was . What amazed him was that Stephen seemed to believe that he didn’t need one and that he wasn’t just covering up something. “You’re kidding me,” Loki said. Stephen, the bastard, just shrugged again as he started to walk towards the line of tape the police had set up. Loki quickly fell into step with him. “I’ve been driving for a while, I know when to be careful.” “How long is a while?” Loki couldn’t help but grin like a cat when Stephen steps faltered, even if it was for just a split second. Even though Stephen was smart, Loki had been alive for a thousand years. He knew how to get under people’s skin. Stephen slowly turned to look at him, clenching his jaw.

“Long enough,” Was all he said before shoving his hands in his pockets and heading directly for the police tape. Not caring that he was leaving Loki behind. Loki didn’t stop smiling as he ducked under the police tape and made his way inside behind Stephen.

He only stopped smiling when he saw the crime scene, instead, that smile was replaced by a feeling of being sick as the scent of murder filled his nose. A scent he was all too familiar with. The place was littered with policemen, running around the place doing who knows what. But through all that Loki managed to notice two things at once.

The wall behind the bar was streaked with dark red blood, whoever did this clearly didn’t care to clean up after themselves. And at the same time, he saw a young man with fluffy brown hair frowning down at the floor where the body most likely was.

Peter Parker. Peter Parker was here and Loki couldn’t help but feel anger boiling in his chest. He knew that Peter wanted to be a forensic scientist for them all, that he wanted that to be his cover story. But he still felt angry that people allowed Peter too, he was only nineteen. He was still a kid in Loki’s eyes and he already had enough on his table between collage and being Spider-Man.

Loki knew all too well what it was like to grow up too fast.

Loki pushed his anger down hoping that it wouldn’t boil up here.A crime scene wasn’t a good place to be angry, even he knew that.

He walked towards the bar as fast as he could, faster than pissed of Stephen could at least. He slipped behind the bar, just as Peter glanced up, meeting his gaze with his mouth open.

“Oh shit, uh hi Mr. Loki, and you too Detective Strange,” Peter waved to Stephen who came to rest at his side. Stephen gave a small, but polite smile to Peter.

“Hey, Parker,”

Peter nodded then looked back to Loki. “How’s your first day going?” “As well as it could, though I do not think it’s respectful to the dead to have small talk in front of their bodies,” Loki smiled softly, hoping that Peter knew he was joking, but did want to move everything along. Peter nodded a few times, rubbing his hands along his jacket. “Right, right, well uh I've been here for like, five minutes but this,” He gestured to the body laying on the floor. The body was of a woman with red hair which was sprawled on the ground around her. She was wearing a white dress shirt that was now smeared with blood from where the cuts on her chest had seeped into it. She had three long cuts across the entirety of her chest that looked blacked around the edges.

Almost as if they had burned. Loki realized distantly. “-Is Laila Wood, she was thirty years old and worked as the bartender for this bar, we have two witnesses in the back room, I haven’t taken statements from them since, y’know, that’s not my job. But I’ve heard that they only heard what happened. Anyways, go ahead and take a look,” Loki stared at the body, before kneeling next to her, looking closely at the wounds, at the blacked edging around them. Definitely burns, but from what? Stephen seemed to be on the same page, but instead of kneeling like Loki had he just stared down at her before turning to Peter. “Any clue what the weapon could’ve been?” He asked, crossing his arms. Peter sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. “Of course that’s the first question you ask, well short answer, no,” Peter said as he kneeled beside Loki. He reached out and touched one of the cuts gently with his gloved hand. Loki grimaced a bit as he did, just because he’s killed things before doesn’t mean that he liked to look at the bodies afterward. “Long answer: It looks like a simple knife or something of that caliber but as I’m sure you’ve both noticed, there are signs of burning on the wounds. Which I’m pretty sure weren’t post mortem, don’t quote me on that though. Anyways, the point is, the burns weren’t enough to cauterize the wounds, so yeah,” Peter finished and he looked at Loki for a split second, as if trying to search for something, but quickly looked back down to the body. Loki raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what the fuck that was about. Before looking back at Stephen, asking him if he’s ever seen anything like this but stops in his tracks when he sees the look on his face. He looked...distant like he was thinking about something Loki couldn't comprehend. Which was absurd Loki could understand everything Earth had to offer if he actually cared too. Loki snapped in front of Stephen’s face. “Strange, are you there?” Stephen jumped as soon as he snapped, coming back from wherever his mind had been in a split moment. He frowned at Loki and slapped his hand away before turning on his heel. “I’m...going to talk to the witnesses, you got everything here? Good,” He didn’t even wait for a reply before he turned and walked away. Loki watched him go with a raised eyebrow until Stephen disappeared behind a door that a policewoman had directed him towards. He turned back to Peter. “That was weird,” “Eh, not really for him,” Peter said. “Strange is like that sometimes, he gets in his own head and kinda stares for a bit, but he usually comes out of it with something figured out,” Peter shrugged and turned to look at a little case that he carried with him. All Loki really knew was that it was for lab stuff.

“He’s probably a little mad about having a partner so having you snap at him probably pissed him off a bit,” Loki snorted and shook his head. “A little is an understatement Spider,” Peter rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, just give him a chance Mr. Loki,” There was a heavy pause as Peter took some kind of vial with a cotton swab on the end of it out of the box. “I’m really happy that you're out of your house,” Peter said softly. The silence returned heavy and thick as Peter took the swab and opened the victim’s mouth and swabbed the inside of it. Loki didn’t know how to respond to that. So, he didn’t. Peter shouldn’t be happy about this, this was stupid and only something that he was doing to make his brother happy...right? Loki shook his head. He was at a crime scene where someone had been brutally murdered, no time to think about that. “You looked at me oddly when you were explaining the wounds, why?” He asked bluntly, hoping to whoever was listening that Peter would move on from that last topic. “Oh, well, “ Peter screwed the cotton swab lid back on the vial and moved to put it in the case. “They’re not completely cauterized but I’m ninety-five percent sure it didn’t happen post mortem right?” Loki nodded as Peter turned to look at him, a deadly serious look on his face. “Well, my first thought was Star Wars but that led me to my second thought which was,” Peter took a second and looked around before leaning into him, whispering so low that only those with super hearing could hear him. “What if this has something to do with our…..other gig? Specifically your uh, specialty” Loki immediately understood what Peter was getting at. Magic. Peter wanted to know if something magic-related was going on here. Loki turned his head back towards the wounds. He considered it for a moment trying to think of wounds like this that he could’ve seen over countless battles. But, he ended up shaking his head.

“No, none that I can think of, most abilities of that sort tend to either not cauterize at all or cauterize completely. Unless it was a type of magic I haven’t seen, which is pretty much impossible,” He whispered back. It was true, he’s been to most of the realms and has seen magic of all types. It would be hard to find one he hasn’t discovered. Peter frowned a bit and nodded. “Yeah, It was kind of a big push honestly,” Loki smiled a bit and reached over to lay a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “It’s was a good thought though, really Spider.” Peter smiled at that. “Thanks, Mr. Loki, but, shouldn’t you be with Stephen right now? I mean it is your job to take the statements. Plus, the whole human lie detector thing you have going on would be pretty helpful,” Loki rolled his eyes at that. “Yeah, yeah, good luck with, whatever science stuff you do,” Peter laughed lightly as Loki got up, brushed himself off. He made his way to the door he saw Stephen go through, not particularly excited to see him again. He would much rather have Peter as his partner.

#strangefrost #froststrange #Detective AU #loki x stephen strange #loki x stephen #stroki

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