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#its like being worried what the worst people on earth might think if they saw you
furiousgoldfish · 1 year
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me: going about my business
my brain: yeah but what would those piece of shit abusers think about you right now?? what would they judge you for? what kind of flaw would they point out?? would they approve anything about you?? how about you think about THAT for the next hour???
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hipstergecko · 11 months
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Okay people! DP X DC idea time!
This hit me like a trainwreck and I must release it into the wild. Will I write this properly one day?
Anyway!
Let's think about sensory deprivation tanks. Danny phantom. What if the thermos acted like one? It was only meant for short term storage. What if the Fenton's built a coffin like one meant for long term? 
And they caught Danny first?
—---
The Fenton's newest invention "ghost in a box" had caught him. It was a dumber bigger heavier version of the thermos and somehow they managed to catch him right as he was falling to earth after a nasty hit to the jaw from the latest ghost of the week.
He propped himself up on his elbows and hissed through his teeth. Better to get out of this box quickly. His parents probably couldn't handle this guy. Using the bright glow of his eyes, he examined the inside of his new holding cell. It was fairly big. Big enough for him to roll about and prop himself up on his elbows. There was 10 inches or so of watery ectoplasm sloshing around him as he moved and shifted. Surprisingly comfy too. At least compared to the cramped space of the thermos.
Without the glow of his eyes it was dark. Completely dark. The kind of dark that makes you wonder if you really had that hand on front of your face. And it was quiet. The only sounds were the faint sloshing of the ectoplasm and his own breathing. 
He saw the faint line of the lid and tried with all his might to push it open. His ghostly strength didn't seem to do much. He was panting by the time he decided to try to phase through it instead. He ended up with a sore head for his efforts. Airtight, watertight and ghost proof. 
There was no way out. 
He tried his phone which had luckily enough survived the fight.
No service.
Danny sighed heavily and lay back in the water, staring at his phone with a tired frown. So much for luck. Hopefully, Tucker, Sam, or Jazz would break him out before school tomorrow.
The silence was so strange. He'd never been somewhere this quiet before. Even the ghost zone at its most peaceful had the sounds of flowing ectoplasmic winds. He felt his eyelids fall shut as he slipped into a doze. He was frankly exhausted from everything that had happened that day and needed a nap. So he took one as he waited for someone to open the box.
But Nobody did. Nobody could. Apart from his friends and sister, nobody cared to.
You see, immediately upon his capture, the elder Fentons rushed the box back to the lab for testing. After several hours they had declared the invention a success. As long as no one opened the box, the ghost couldn't escape. 
Meanwhile Tucker, Sam, and Jazz were consumed with worry. They hadn't seen Danny get captured, but after Jack and Maddie proclaimed Phantom was caught the next day on the news, they feared the worst.
Jazz confronted her parents about Phantom in the box, but she was kindly and lovingly dismissed. You see, they had given it some thought and finally agreed with their daughter that ghosts too dangerous to be studied should just be caught and dealt with humanely. A compromise. Sure they couldn't do all the tests they wanted, but they would rather have their town and family safe.
The "Ghost in a box" was equipped with noise canceling movement dampening ecto-sustaining technology. In essence a sensory deprivation tank. The ghost would be kept safe until they were docile enough to be released for study or simply turned back into base ectoplasm to be recycled for something else.
But they didn't know about cores.
And they didn't know about Danny.
Cores would not dissipate like regular formless ectoplasm. They would remain even as the physical form of the ghost melted away as their consciousness faded into everything and nothing within the box.
But Danny wouldn't. Jazz knew that Danny couldn't.
A core wasn't made to house a human. A ghost, who was the personification of a person's emotions the moment they died, a being made of obsession, could be condensed and made dormant inside the fragile safety of a core. But a human flesh and bone body? A heartbeat? He would always be there. Able to be sucked in a thermos, yes. Ghost in a box, yes. His ghostly abilities made him pliable enough. But into his core? Never going to happen.
His heart and core were very different, but worked together in harmony. Neither could exist without the other. Neither could be taken out without issue. (The ghost catcher notwithstanding. Freaky duplication personality splitting weirdness) Should his heart vanish into the core, it would die. Hearts do not take compression and dormancy well. Should his heart be removed, the core would have no filter and overtake the body, burning it into pure ectoplasmic fire.
Danny was the perfect balance. His heart strengthened his core and his core energized his heart. He could not be easily shattered or dissipated. But this meant he also could not retreat into his core when his mind or body failed him. 
He had to remain fully formed. Fully in ghost form. The ectoplasm that was being cycled through the box made sure he was stable, but he would suffocate and starve if he became human.
He was well and truly stuck.
Jazz begged and pleaded with them to let him go. The psychological damage would be so severe if he stayed in longer than a few hours. But their success had blinded them to the point of pride. Instead they praised her for her empathy and willingness to study the obsessions ghosts were known for.
They only really started listening to her after Danny had been missing for an entire week. And even then it was just a call to the police and a search to hunt "they ghost who took our baby boy".
(Did Jazz ever break down and tell her parents the truth? Who knows.)
Perhaps the worst part was that his loved ones couldn't even get to the box. It had been locked up in some government facility almost immediately after the Fenton's announced their success. The patent was sold to the government for a truly amazing amount of money.
Danny was out of reach.
It was only after months of petitioning and rallying and absolutely threatening Vlad with ruining his political reputation, Sam was able to gain access to the box to "see for herself if they were truly as humane as the Fenton's claimed". She had 20 minutes with the box and she and Tucker did everything they could to open it. 
Nothing worked. No hacking or code they tried could open it. They had no power tools or weapons to try attacking it with. For 20 minutes they tried.
For 20 minutes they failed.
There was nothing they could do. They were escorted from the premises kicking and screaming.
Meanwhile the product went viral. Some opposed it, some praised it. The Fentons became famous for the "ghost in a box". Soon they were available widespread. Ghosts were being caught left and right and safely contained. most of whom were peacefully living out their afterlives in their chosen haunt.
Many ghosts were caught actively seeking Phantom. Skulker, Ember, some invisible ghost kid, a great hairy looking wolf man, and more. Ghosts were being caught all over the country. None of them could escape once they were put in the box. And none of the other ghosts knew what was truly happening to their kind. They only knew that if you went into the human realm, you didn't come back. 
Surprisingly enough, Vlad was eventually the one to put a stop to it. By forcibly closing the portals. The Fentons were too busy with their manic search for their son to rebuild their own portal. (And even if they tried after jazz told them the truth, would it have even worked?) His own portal was hardly ever used anymore. Mostly because alongside the "ghost in a box", the Fenton finder and ectoplasmic tracker were also extremely popular tools for ghost catching. It was too risky to activate his personal portal. If he was caught, he was as good as dead. 
But he too was eventually caught.
Somebody had finally looked into his shady dealings. Suspicious of him, and not wanting to rule out anything ghostly, they opened a box on him during a packers game.
He never saw it coming.
Eventually almost every ghost people across the world knew of were caught. The U.S. government paid for the boxes and had them categorized and stored deep underground in a ghost proof facility that slowly faded from history.
But what about Danny?
Let's ask a different question. Do you know what happens when a human stays too long without sensory input?
The hallucinations started when his phone battery gave out.
—————
The justice league had been an entity for quite some time now. Long enough that they felt secure in digging down into the underbelly of various world governments to root out world ending threats at the source. Especially after what had been going on with CADMUS and their government sanctioned cloning operation.
Someone (the flash? Batman? TBD) finds old records of a bunker buried deep under the earth full of something called "ectoplasmic" radiation. For the safety of the nearby town of Amity Park, they felt the need to dig it up and clean it out.
Upon entering the bunker in full OSHA approved hazmat, they find strange looking boxes. Boxes upon boxes stretching for at least a mile, maybe more if there are sublevels. Each box is labeled with a number. The first one they find is marked 3278 (or some other arbitrary number). All the boxes are sealed tight with no known way to open/dispose of them.
Most of the heroes agree just to let the bunker be. It was sealed and doing no visible harm to anyone or the environment.
But Batman (or other super? Dealer's choice) decides to do a bit more looking.
He stalks through the boxes, noting the numbers, the lights saying 'occupied' and 'dissolved'. Many of the boxes are buried deep. He can really only observe the ones close to the walkways.
He walks all the way to the very bottom. The very end of the bunker. Where there is a solitary box set on a raised platform. It is labeled number 1. The lights flash 'occupied'.
'Corporeal'.
He takes it back to the watchtower for analysis.
——————
The justice league cannot safely open the box. Any attempt to break it open could compromise whatever is inside. Scans do not indicate what could be inside.
More research is done into these boxes. Nothing digital is found. Eventually someone looked through some old offices stationed outside the bunker and finds patents for the boxes. Dr.s Fenton describe in detail what the box does and how to use it. It was meant to never be opened by anyone without the proper DNA match.
Apparently Jack Fenton, understanding that ghosts can possess people (read overshadow) coded the box to reject anything that had human DNA in it. He had to manually override the security to open the boxes. Which included several (read 100) security questions and passwords pertaining to Jack directly.
So only someone completely non human and non ectoplasmic could open the box.
Good thing they had aliens on payroll.
—————
Superman pressed his thumb to the scanner. There was a light beep and a sudden rush of pressurized air. A cheery voice rattled out of a small speaker embedded in the box's control panel.
"Wow! I don't know how you found an alien, but well done! Please enjoy your docile ghost or ectoplasmic goo! Thank you for using the Fenton GHOST IN A BOX! Patent pending please don't sue."
Superman, startled by the sudden voice, took a step back. The lid of the box opened slowly the inside dark. Toxic looking green mist sluggishly broiled out of the box. It spread almost like fog across the floor.
A black hand with abnormally long and skeletal fingers stretched slowly rose out of the mist, rising to grip the side of the box.
All the superheroes were immediately on edge. Hands flying to weapons and dropping into fighting stances. Superman himself jumped back to guard against whatever was coming out of the box.
What emerged was frankly horrifying to look at. A black mass of bulbous limbs and... Tentacles? Were those tentacles? Claws and teeth scrabbled at the edges of the box until the entire bulk of the thing fell from the edge, squelching with whatever liquid had been inside. It hit the floor of the watchtower with a wet sounding thud.
There was an immediate reaction among the heroes.
"Oh gross!"
"That... What IS that?!"
"Eugh..."
"It's not human, that's for sure!"
"Someone find a member of JLD!!"
"Get Constantine up here!"
Amidst the noise the thing on the floor writhed about. All over it's amorphous body, eyes opened. Countless eyes appearing all over it's form. They were the same toxic green color as the mist, but brighter.
The eyes rolled about and winced. The thing shuddered as if in pain and the eyes squeezed shut back into the void. Instead, teeth appeared, countless mouths inside mouths and razor sharp teeth upon teeth. It scrabbled on the floor and opened it's countless mouths.
And screamed.
Heroes threw their hands over their ears in an attempt to stop the sound. Those with enhanced hearing took it the worst. Superman himself was forced to kneel, hands pressing to the sides of his head desperately. It sounded like the screams of the damned. Of someone dying. Of thousands suffering. He couldn't move, couldn't react. It was going to drive him mad if it didn't stop.
It came almost in waves, battering against the triple reinforced windows protecting the inhabitants from space. Lights above their heads popped and broke as sound crashed about the room. Coffee mugs shattered, fuses blew, and the watchtower was plunged into darkness.
With the darkness came a panic. The screaming was unending, debilitating. Some curled into fetal positions, uncaring of their peers. Others tried to run, but with the power gone, doors wouldn't open.
Not many paid attention to the thing on the floor.
It is important to note that in attendance that day alongside batman were a few of his brood. Namely Red Robin and Black Bat. It is also important to note that Black Bat is a hero who is hearing impaired.
So of the heroes in the watchtower that day, Black Bat was the only one to focus on the amorphous thing despite the noise.
She watched the Eldritch horror even as the watchtower fell to darkness. It had too many mouths. Too many eyes. It's form was barely recognizable in the darkness, but as she watched she could see the makings of something humanoid.
It had a discernable head.
She watched it try to open its eyes various times only to see it shriek louder and shut them swiftly. It was in pain? Even though the lights had gone out? She looked at batman and the other heroes. They were screaming and yelling and trying to figure out a course of action.
She looked back at the thing. The sound beat at her ears in waves. Growing ever louder as those around her screamed in pain.
In that moment, Cass had an epiphany.
She lunged across the room, reaching Red Robin almost instantly. She allowed the sound to reach her ears as her hands left them to dig around in Tim's utility belt. She knew he had them, she'd seen him wear them often enough.
Ahah! She triumphantly pulled the headphones from a side pouch. Dick and Jason teased Tim about the headphones when he first got them for working on casefiles. They were the big chunky kind. Designed to fit over the entire ear.
Designed to be noise cancelling
She turned and sprinted towards the thing on the floor with her prize. The closer she got the worse the sound was. It beat on her brain painfully, she could feel a nosebleed trickle down her lip. Still she darted forward. She leapt ito the air, flipping upsidedown as she did. She aimed to the beings... Head? What could've been it's head... And deftly slipped the headphones onto it.
There was a flailing of... Limbs?... In her direction as she sailed through the air. She landed a bit ungracefully as the sound crashed over her again. She covered her ears with her hands and retreated, turning to face the entity as she backed away.
There were hands... Or hand like things... Clutching the headphones. Slowly the screaming dwindled. Soon it was quiet save for the cursing and crying and relief voiced by the heroes.
"Oh thank god!"
"It's over!"
"Ugh my head..."
"Is everyone okay?"
"I understand why they had that thing locked away now."
"Black Bat." Cass turned to see Batman holding his head in one hand. "What did you do?"
Cass mimed putting the headphones on. "Overstimulation." She said simply.
"What do you mean?" Batman looked to the entity. His eyes narrowed at the way it clung to the headphones. His gaze swiveled to the inky darkness of the box. An idea swirled in his brain and he nodded. "Extreme sensory deprivation."
Cass nodded, pleased.
"Batman! What happened? Are you alright?" Superman approached the pair. His voice was raised slightly. Blood dripped from his ears.
"I'm fine Superman." Batman faced him fully, moving his mouth in exaggerated syllables. "But you're not."
Superman smiled sheepishly. "I see you noticed. I can't hear anything right now." He turned towards the entity. "What do we do now? It's clearly too dangerous to simply let free." He turned back to Batman. "With the watchtower out of power the best option we have is to put it back into the box."
"Hnn..." Batman frowned. "I don't think that would work well. Based on how it reacted to light and sound, we can assume that the box was some sort of sensory deprivation tank."
"Sensory deprivation tank?"
"It's a box that cuts off all stimuli from the outside." Red Robin pulled himself off the floor with a groan. "It's a form of extreme isolation. Do you think that's why it was screaming?"
"What?"
Batman ignored Superman. "I believe so. Black Bat was the first to notice."
Red Robin squinted. "Are those my headphones?"
Cass grinned at him. "Useful."
He huffed and passed her a handkerchief from his belt. "You owe me new ones." She giggled silently and took the handkerchief, wiping away the nosebleed.
Batman grunted, gaze shifting back to the writhing mass of black in the darkness. "We'll have to quarantine this room. I don't believe trying to handle the entity would be wise."
"No kidding." Superman winced, putting a hand to his head. "But we won't be able to do much until Cyborg restores power. He was in the control room when the screaming started, right?"
Not a moment after Superman had finished speaking the backup lights came on.
And the shrieking started anew.
Heroes were once again forced to their knees as the sound hit them. Cass wasted no time and ran towards the entity. It was no longer a roiling bulbous mass, but rather had a partial humanoid form. A clear and present head and shoulders, thin long arms with hands clasped around the headphones.
She didn't know where it's eyes were supposed to be, but she didn't bother taking the time to figure it out. She ripped her cape from her shoulders and flung it over top of the entity. There was an immediate flailing of limbs and tentacles as it tried to get the offending object off.
Cass worked quickly. Pulling a blindfold from her belt, she wrapped it swiftly around the "head" of the thing in front of her. The knot was tied equally as fast, but before she could pull away, her hands were caught.
Long, impossibly long fingers held her hands in a vice grip. They were icy. So cold that it felt like her skin was burning.
But the screaming stopped.
"Black Bat!"
Cass ignored Red Robin's cry and Batman's frantic run towards her.
The entity had stilled.
It's limbs shrunk instantly, leaving almost normally proportioned arms and legs. The tentacles shrank away to nothing. The claws and fangs receding with them. The grip on her hands turned gentle, the fingers shrinking to a normal, proportional size.
Cass's eyes darted to Batman, stopping him just before he reached her. She shook her head minutely. This thing was not hostile.
It was scared.
Cass turned her gaze back to the thing and watched, tense as the fingers slowly ran up and down her hand. It felt her wrist, palm and fingers.
Slowly, the blackness faded into color. Blinding white hair fluttered with an unseen breeze. Skin tan underneath the headphones and blindfold. A tattered jumpsuit in black and white stained green.
A nose peeked out from under the blindfold. A pair of lips, thin and chapped. Freckles dotted what she could see of the cheeks.
It looked young. A young humanoid. It probably wasn't human at all but, the similarities were there. It looked like a boy. Younger than Tim, but older than Damien.
He looked thin. She traced the line of his ribs with her eyes. She would see where his hip bones jutted out. He was emaciated. Or very nearly. He looked as of he'd been starving.
She head Batman shift as he knelt beside her. She knew he'd seen it too. This boy had been tortured in extreme isolation. What had happened to him?
He didn't speak. She didn't really expect him to. He searched her hands for a moment more, before his hands stilled. Then, slowly, carefully, his fingers intertwined with hers. He gave a gentle squeeze.
She squeezed back.
The blindfold covering his eyes grew wet. The wetness seeped down the blindfold and dripped to the floor.
The boy was crying.
"You're real." Came a raspy whisper.
There was a flash of bright white light and suddenly a very starved human boy was collapsing into Cass's arms.
—————
(Cass looked up at Bruce with wide eyes, cradling the boy to herself. He now had pale skin, tattered blue jeans and a worn T-shirt. His tousled black hair was grimy with filth. Dark circles shadowed long dark eyelashes and hollowed cheeks.
Cass was suddenly sure. Whatever he was, he was hers now.
"New baby brother."
Batman sighed heavily.)
————-—
Aaaaaand I have more? Maybe? Like the idea that he has gone crazy and lost his senses for a time really appealed to me. Cue rehabilitation and him trying to free the other ghosts/Vlad and get them back to the ghost zone. Maybe try to go back in time to stop it all from happening? Idk.
I felt the need to post this before I dedicated too much time to it and wrote a multi chapter fic but never actually post it anywhere. 🫠
Tell me what you thiiiiink.
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nukacourier · 1 month
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For the Oc duo ask thing for James and Pierre- 😇⚖️👁🧠 (I struggled just picking a few if it's too many SORRY, I love ur characters)
NO ITS FINE!! May be kinda conceited of me but I rlly love writing about them
James:
Their best trait? - Loyalty, specifically towards people she cares about. Although their obsession with people (namely him) can be unnerving, James always can appreciate that he's there for him, whether she's helping out passively or actively, James has never had to worry about finding his knife in his back. And occasionally can't help but feel like she's the only person he can consistently turn to for comfort when he needs it, as much as that sometimes worries him.
Are they a good person? - It's complicated. James knows the things Pierre has done, and resents that, but has seen worse from others and can also see an almost childlike wonder and hope shining through the cracks of this broken persona he's put on, and knows that horrible exterior to his personality unfortunately exists for a reason. He thinks she has the ability to be good, but needs time to feel safe and protected before he can really fully bring out that side of themself without harming herself mentally.
Do you really know them? - No. James thinks he can sometimes see it, and what he sees is glimpses of someone who is sad, lonely, and lost. Someone that's too painful to be, so Pierre hides it. He knows better than to try to pry, he figures they'll tell him eventually if he needs to. He'd love to get to know the real Pierre at some point, though.
Best memory from them and worst? - Best is probably the time during their trip to Point Lookout where Pierre decided to accompany him and provided him with companionship and a shoulder to lean on after his first romantic heartbreak. It's the first time James had really seen how gentle and caring she could be.
Worst, however, was the one time James actually saw the physical extent of what Pierre would do to others "for him". He didn't want to know. He wishes he never did. It's something that's made him keep Pierre at an arms length since they'd left the Mojave, although eventually that tarnish on Pierre's image has faded since he's unfortunately been faced with seeing worse from others since then. But it definitely left some doubt in his mind.
Pierre:
Their best trait? - His kindness. James is a good person, good enough to treat Pierre like a human being despite seeing himself as scum of the earth. Sometimes it makes her envious, wishing he could care for others the way he does without feeling fear or doubt.
Are they a good person? - Yes. Pierre thinks James is the best a person could hope to be. Even after growing to learn his flaws, and learning how to unsee him as something more than human—Pierre still holds the belief that he truly is good to his very core if he's still trying despite how tired he must be. Although she worries it might lead to him getting hurt or winding up dead.
Do you really know them? - Yes. Pierre has never read into a book the way he has James. She knows what he likes, what he hates, how he feels about others, and even is at the point he's taken to being able to guess the action James will take the majority of the time. He finds familiarity in James that they'd never found before. Home.
Best memory from them and worst? - Their first meeting. Being given care without anything in return, from someone who had no reason to trust them is something Pierre has cycled through his head for years.
Worst, being told that he really is all she ever thought of himself and seeing him scared of him for once. In their eyes, Pierre was just protecting James, but he doesn't blame him for the reaction of fear and anger. He really is horrible. Disgusting. Heartless. But it was the first time Pierre didn't want it to be true despite knowing it was indisputably true. So maybe there was some merit in his hurtful words. Pierre feels he would've been just another raider left with a bullet in his head if she never had that moment of realization.
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drkcnry67 · 2 years
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like a fairytale
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A/N: congrats to @thing-you-do-with-that-thing for bringing on another wonderful challenge! Girl I hope I do this justice! Time to tug on those emotional cords a bit. Enjoy! Ps sorry for the bits of grammer and spelling mistakes I may miss along the edit train.
Title:
Pairing: Jensen x reader
Song used: go your own way by Fleetwood Mac
Rating: 18+
Tags: emotional strings pulled, prepare the water works, Jensen singing his feelings after you slipping into coma, you leaving him to protect him, you writing a note and slipping it to Jensen explaining your reasons, mild mentions of sex, mentions of rape not in much detail (penis in vagina, cum inside, rough mouth fuck) true loves kiss works everytime, that's all I can think of for now. Note not all of this might be in the story or even mentioned but I'll put it in there anyway
Mentioning @sweetness47 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing
Summery: not telling
It was your last day of spring break, your last day ever of your last spring break till college anyway.
You had gone out to the a all ages club with your best friends but lost track of them on your way to the washroom. un be known to you, you were about to have the worst night of your life.
a group of men stormed into the washroom locking the door, blocking all signs of exit... then you blacked out, the pain, the voice, the loud laughter, the tearing, the throbbing pains... the aches, the blood you were sure was pooling over the floor.
your best friends found you a few hours later with the security team, it would be morning before you would wake up to the bright lights of the hospital.
you started to move but found it painful, then it hit you like a shit ton of bricks, all the memories, the pain, the roughness of it all... you screamed slightly the sound of male peoples all around you...
your best friend jumped up in the moment and came to cuddle you in her arms. your other best friend went to find the nice lady nurse who had been in but a few hours before.
that was day 1 of the rest of your life. well now more like a year and a half... of being well solitary female solitary, basically not being around guys, not hearing their voices, all your teachers were female from then on, you still graduated but didnt go to the ceremony, or walk across the stage, or party with your class, you sat in the dorm, drowning out the sounds and memories from that night.
you didnt know if you could ever be around any man again, till your best friend was playing a song in the shower, you didnt recognize the voice, those vocals making yourcore heat up.
she came out of the bathroom and felt your judgy eyes on her phone.
alana: earth to yn whats wrong?
yn: who was that singing on your phone.
alana: oh that is the vocal stylings of Jensen Ackles.
Yn: for once I don't cringe at his voice, for once I feel hopeful at the dawn of a new day.
Alana: well if you want I won tickets to go see him the other day and if you want to go with me?
You nod...
Yn: ya of course I'll go with you but this time where you go I go... even if we have to chain our wrists together.
Alana reaches in to her nightstand...
Alana: well how bout the safety wrist thing that parents use for their children.
You take one look at this and smile.
Yn: its perfect. Now when is this concert?
alana smiled at how excited you seemed... it had been a long time since she saw you get excited about something outside of your dorm room, to say that she hadnt been concerned would be an understatement.
Alana: tonight, at the concert hall in town... the limo is gonna be outside the dorm hall entrance at 6pm... you have less than 2 hours to get ready. now up take a shower and then we will pick out an outfit and braid your hair.
You went to the shower, washing your hair, body, and just letting the water run over you. Relaxed and calm you get out of the shower, towel drying off you slip into your house coat and exit the bathroom.
Alana: sit here and don't worry about a thing... once your hair is braided and then we will get you into the outfit I picked out for you.
After some illustrious girl talk, laughter, and some tears as the memories came back from that horrible night, you just tried to forget it all over again, most certainly your best friend was coaching you through it.
It was time this was the first time since coming to this college dorm room, that you were leaving it, for almost 7 months you had allowed your life to be ruled by fear but no more.
Today you were going out, you were gonna have fun and you were gonna conquer your fears. It was time this was the first time since coming to this college dorm room, that you were leaving it, for almost 7 months you had allowed your life to be ruled by fear but no more.
Today you were going out, you were gonna have fun and you were gonna conquer your fears. You stared in the full view mirror on the back of the dorm room door, it was unbelievable how sexy you looked for the first time in years.
Yn: this is unbelievable
Alana: don't dis it girl, you look amazing! OK you ready for the all access backstage experience!
You nod your head as you walk through the halls with your best friend!
Yn: i cant wait… this is gonna be amazing! I hope…
Alana: hey dont worry nothing bad will happen this time, cause there will be plenty of security guards, we will be backstage and theres no fucking way that you are ever gonna go through that experience again. And theres no fucking way that we are getting seperated unless its in the washroom and even then we are only separate by the rest room doors for a few seconds.
Yn: ya i know. Now how cute is this man…
Alana pulls up a photo of jensen on her phone and shows it to you… your mouth falls open, wide open… your heart starts thumping loud in your chest, this feeling, this one time, your first time being out of the dormroom since that one frightful night.
Alana: girl theres the limo, lets get in and go… it will all be okay… though if you feel like backing out ill totally understand…
You shake your head.
Yn: we are chained up and going out, im gonna go meet this guy and hear him sing and maybe just maybe get the explanation for why my heart is beating super fast in my chest.
Alana shrugged her shoulder, she had never even heard you express those words before, except in your writing, but even then, she had never in all her time as your best friend heard you talk like that ever. She was both concerned and a little happy at the same time.
Alana and you take in the sights as the limo comes up to the vip entrance the limo driver gets out first and comes round to your side, he opens the door so you and alana can get out. You both walked hand in hand literally joined at the hands wearing your passes through the door.
Alana: this is gonna be awesome!
Yn: im slightly overwhelmed but ya i guess its pretty awesome.
Alana: im excited to actually see jensen in person… i wonder if we are the first ones here…
You and alana get into the final corridor and feel the air shift, you stop as you feel a set of eyes land on your form.
You look up a huge grin crosses your features as your brown eyes meet a pair of green eyes, the most gorgeous pair of green eyes in your opinion.
Yn: hi…
That's all that came out of your mouth, neither you nor your best friend knew what was happening.
Jensen: hey ladies, how's your night going?
Yn: its going good, I don't get out much…
Jensen: it's hard to get out and do what you want without fear or being told no.
Alana nudged you and you landed in his embrace, against his chest… your heart beats meshing together.
Yn: I'm so sorry.
Jensen: it's okay its all gonna be okay.. cliff…
A security guard steps up to the side of Jensen you and Alana.
Cliff: yes sir…
Jensen: can we find a special couple seats for my new friends here right in my eye view?
Cliff: I'll create some right away sir.
Jensen pulled back a bit in order to look at both you and Alana!
Jensen: sorry I don't think we have been introduced… I'm Jensen.
Yn: I'm yn and this is my best friend Alana! I honestly didn't know I was coming here till a few hours prior…
Jensen: and what made you come out tonight?
Yn: it was the sound of your voice when my best friend was listening to your music… it was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard.
Jensen: alright then how bout this you meet me in the campus community center at noon tomorrow and feel the wrath of my billiard skills… or we just sit and talk.
Yn: ok well if you want to loose ill be there but don't count on winning.
Jensen: your on, but if you ladies will excuse me I need to make my final touches and grand entrance. Cliff.
Yn: I look forward to being your eye sight tonight.
Jensen smiled and placed a kiss on the top of your forehead, sending shivers down your spine.
Jensen: I hope tonight is everything you hope it will be. And there is a rave tonight after the concert here if you ladies wanna stay and dance!
Cliff at that second comes running up…
Cliff: Jensen.
Jensen: Cliff please escorts these ladies to their seats and see to it that they are taken care of during the show. I'll find them after.
Cliff: yes sir. Ladies follow me.
Cliff leads you and alana to the very center of the seating view where only seconds later you saw Jensen make his grand entrance.
suddenly, it was like you were being hoisted on a cloud, high high in the sky. Jensens voice soothing and calming. But your night was about to take a wide turn little did you know.
Jensen: that's it for me tonight, now if you people wouldn't mind helping make things easy for the security team to clear out these chairs so people can dance! This is gonna turn into a huge rave! Now let's clear this floor and get this house pumping!
The crowd went wild as you and alana were escorted by cliff backstage to a private corner where Jensen was sure to be.
Cliff: Jensen will be along shortly, he is just getting changed! He wants to make a good impression on you miss YN.
You exchanged a subtle look with Alana, but then feel the cuffs slip off your hand.
Alana: it sounds like your gonna be busy girl!
Yn: omg I don't know if I'm ready for this…
Alana: just breathe and if he takes you away for the night make sure you explain to him what happened to you I'm sure he will understand.
Yn: your probably right… it will just be hard to talk about again…
Alana: just be yourself. Jensen will love you trust me. And if you do end up going home with him come find me before you take off…
Yn: shhh here he comes.
You say quietly as you both watch Jensen come from round a corner wearing a basic black tee that highlighted all his features, a pair of blue jeans and sneakers.
Jensen: what did you girls think of the show?
Yn: I loved it..
Alana: me too… shall we go dance…
Jensen: yes oh and I have a best friend who should be here already if Alana would like to have a dance partner.
Alana: of course any friend of yours is a friend of ours.
Cliff comes round a different corner with another guy a bit taller then Jensen but equally as cute.
Jensen: Alana yn this is my best friend Jared! Jared these are the 2 lovely ladies I was telling you about.
Jared shakes your hand and then has a similar reaction like what you had with Jensen to Alana… now you have the chance to step away from Jared and Alana with Jensen…
Jensen: i have a feeling this is the start of something beautiful.
Yn: me to… though i should tell you i feel like this is fate or destiny or something…
Jensen: ya know i was thinking the exact same thing. Come on lets go dance! Those 2 can come find us if and when they are ready…
Jensen takes your hand and leads you through the crowd of people and brings you close to his body, the music hypnotic, couples dancing all around making you and Jensen tune out the world, keeping it just between the 2 of you. Jensen had one of your legs up around his waist at one point as he dipped you.
Jensen then flips you around and brings you to move against his own body, his hands staying on your hips, the swaying, the music, the grip of Jensen’s hands against your hips, feeling your curves. After almost 2 hours into the rave and about 15 different dance steps/positions, Jensen leaned down and whispered in your ear…
Jensen: lets go home, to my home! I want to rip this dress off of you, and i wanna taste your sweet heat!
You could feel the heat between your legs, you could feel the beating of both your heart and his heart, so you pulled his face down so you could whisper back.
Yn: can we get out of here so i can talk to you, i have something important to tell you?
Jensen: ya sure of course! Lets find those 2 crazy best friends of ours.
Finding your 2 best friends was harder than you both thought. It wasnt till you both stood outside Jensen’s dressing room that cliff approached before the door could open.
Cliff: im sorry Jensen but you cant go in there right now…
Jensen: why not?
Clifff: cause Jared and Alana wanted some alone time to and i quote “get into some fun trouble”
You and jensen both cringe at hearing that. But jensen sighs…
Jensen: so how am i supposed to collect my stuff
Cliff: I'll bring it home once they are done, I'm having Harold drive you guys back to the penthouse… if that's OK with you sir!
You look at Jensen who kinda chuckled…
Jensen: so he did find himself a nice girl. Wow, alright cliff, thanks.. see you later. Call when your on way with my stuff.
Cliff: will do sir.
You walk with Jensen to a waiting car, another security guard standing in front of it. Opening the back door he nodded at the both of you and then shut the door.
Jensen: well who would have thought my best friend and your best friend.
Yn: it is kinda funny…
Jensen: so do you wanna talk now or when we get to my penthouse?
Yn: at the penthouse where if need be i can snag a drink… or 2 cause its gonna be really hard to discuss..
Jensen just held your hand the drive to the penthouse was calm, and scenic but all you kept doing was digging your nails into your lap.. Jensen took notice of this and knew that whatever it was that had you so nervous had to be worse than things that go bump in the night.
Jensen: we are almost there, but umm i have to let you know that whatever it is that you want to tell me it will be okay…
You feel the tears starting to form in your eyes as the car stops, jensen opens the door and helps you out of the car before the driver could get there… jensen then picks you into a cradle and carries you up the elevator…
A lady in a maids outfit greets you guys as you step off the elevator.
Maid: welcome home sir! What can I help you with?
Jensen: please bring us a bottle of scotch and 2 glasses.
You continue to hold onto jensens neck even after he sits down on his bed with you now in his lap. His eyes searching your own, your tear filled eyes now running down your cheeks.
Jensen: what's got a beautiful lady like you all upset…
Yn: 7 months ago, I was raped… in the washroom of a club… my best friend Alana didn't find me till almost an hour later but that was with the help of a security guard as well.
Jensen: im so sorry that happened to you yn… is that why you haven't been out much…
Yn: yes, I shut my self away in a dorm room with Alana, switched all my classes to online and cut everyone out pretty much.
Jensen: alright it's alright…
yN: its not alright, Jensen I'm Sorry I really am but…
Before you could Say another word, Jensen had your lips enclosed in his own… This kiss, your first real kiss…
upon breaking the kiss, Jensen Cupped your cheeks in his hands making Sure you were looking in his eyes…
Jensen: Do not worry, You never need to worry about any one harm you again. Like ever… which is why this may seem sudden and I don't expect you to say yes right away but will you consider moving in with me? Being my girlfriend, make me the happiest man in this entire fucked up world.
Yn: I will consider your offer to move in but yes I'll be your girlfriend.
Jensen: and we don't have to do anything your not comfortable with till your ready…
You were overwhelmed but still happy non the less you kicked off your sandals and tossed your purse on the floor placing your phone in jensens hands…
Yn: can we cuddle for tonight? Or till I'm ready to do more… I mean if you want…
Jensen: I wouldn't have it any other way. Why don't you get up and go find a shirt of mine to use as a night dress.. I'll slip into a pair of shorts.. we will also place our phones on the nightstand so we can have them in reach…
Yn: any shirt?
Jensen nodded as he went into a different drawer and grabbed a pair of what looked like athletic shorts like the kind that basketball players wear or the most comfortable.
Jensen: I'll change out here you can change over In the bathroom.
You close your eyes and pull a random shirt out of his drawer… you don't even look at it you just take it and walk into the bathroom, shutting the door almost fully you start to remove the outfit you were wearing and your bra.
You stare at yourself in the mirror for a few moments before straightening out your hair, putting on the shirt and walking out into the bedroom where Jensen was standing by the window.
Jensen turned around to see you smiling at him standing in his shirt.
Yn: I like this shirt, it suits me…
Jensen: yes it does… do you care who gets into bed first…
Yn: nope…
Jensen Crawled in first, you slid in beside him, placing your head on his chest only after he turned out the lamp…
Jensen: you know what I think I'm inspired to start working on a new song… your my new muse…
Yn: no more talk tonight, will you just hold me… till I fall asleep… and even after…
Jensen tightened his arms around you pulling you close against him.
Jensen: shhh it's okay… just rest now…
You didn't need to be told twice… that however was night 1, where angry text messages would lighten yours and jensens phones in the morning light… jensens security team told you guys not to worry about it but you couldn't help it…
Another 6 months went by and the messages continued, but so did your relationship with jensen. You both were very blissfully happy, till one day, but this particular day, the message scared you. It threatened Jensen…
You couldn't let them hurt him. So you left…
"Jensen, im so sorry, but I can't stay with you, I can't be here anymore. These messages, my past I feel like I'm dragging you down… please understand I wouldn't leave you if I had another choice. But I'll be where it all began for us… all my love now and always YN"
You folded the note and walked out of the apartment with your backpack… you had pulled out a bunch of cash, you were not going to be traced or held down, you also were not gonna put Jensen down before his big tour kickoff.
Jensen walked into the apartment, he called your name, didnt hear anything… he searched the house he tried calling your phone. No answer on all fronts. Then he went to the table sat down and thats when he saw it, his name in your handwriting on a piece of folded paper on the stack of mail.
He read the note and punched a hole in the wall… he was livid and thats when he received another text message…. “Sorry looser you didnt get the girl… oh well, i guess alls well that ends well… see you at the sold out show… ill be the one who drops your girl to the ground…”
He was angry, he showed the message to clif, told him to also track you down and make sure you got to the show safe and sound. He knew that was gonna be the night to end all yours and his suffering.
Jensen: I don't care who I have to pay or what I have to do I want everyone whose coming to the concert and whose working the concert to be screened, if anyone on the security team sees yn protect her and do not leave her alone. If this dumbass is gonna try anything then we need to be prepared.
Clif: all she said to me when I found her was that she needed to go her own way to protect you sir!
Jensen was shocked for no one had ever gone to such lengths who wasn't part of his security team before.
That gave Jensen his idea… he knew what to title his newest song. He also knew who to dedicate it too.
That night he finished the ending to his new song. He sent you a text message a cryptic one, not realizing that you wouldn't get it…
That night you were silent, the only way to get through to you was if they knew where you were… clif was the only one who knew…
He promised that he wouldn't tell Jensen. But that he would pick you up and personally drive you to the concert.
Clif left Jensen to get some sleep, clif stayed in the parked security vehicle outside jensens place. The next morning you woke up and got ready for the day. Jensen too woke up and prepared as best as he could for what could possibly be the biggest performance of his entire career.
As much as you wanted to just stay in the dark you couldn't you had to make things right before the concert.
As soon as you turned on your phone you instantly wished you hadn't. For what seemed like thousands of messages were now blowing up your phone.
Jensen heads out to the concert, you were waiting for clif to come get you… waiting in your room for clif to call you.
Jensen waiting now backstage gets a message… "alright tonight is the night… let's get this party started! Let me see if I can find your girl… oh look there she is… time to enact my plan, see you soon!"
That made jensens blood boil, knowing that this fool, this messaging creep was anywhere near you and he couldn't do anything about it made him so angry.
Jensen: you guys do whatever you have to do but no one looking either normal or suspicious gets anywhere near YN… clif is already with her but I want extra security at least 2 rows around her and clif on all sides. Do not I repeat do not let anyone near her for anything.
His security team made their way to do their rounds and a few of them went to take their positions.
Jensen was preparing to make his entrance, his eyes caught yours, you were staring right at him. That gave him hope, that told him that creep hadn't gotten hold of you yet.
Jensen heard the PA announcement and the screaming crowd and made his way on stage.
Jensen: good evening everybody! I'd like to thank you all for coming out tonight! And I'd like to dedicate this first song to a special lady one who stole my heart and tore it out just the other day. Someone spooked her, someone made a threat towards me and her. This is a song I've been writing for a while and now I'd like to know what you all think about it.
Jensen signals the band to begin the intro, and he chimes in with the song in its full force with every single emotion he could muster.
Jensen: Loving you, Isn't the right thing to do, How can I ever change things, That I feel?, If I could, Baby, I'd give you my world, How can I, When you won't take it from me?
Jensen kept watch on you, but didn't take notice right away how your expression changed. For in that instance you were having some issues, medically speaking of course.
Clif: miss YN are you alright?
Yn: clif I can't breathe… I feel faint…
Clif (over radio): search the area around yes seat she feels faint also radio the stage hands to call 911… and someone flag down Jensen…
Jensen: You can go your own way, Go your own way, You can call it, Another lonely day,You can go your own way, Go your own way…
It was then that Jensen saw it, saw that sight the one he thought he wouldn't see cause of all the security, the one he thought he had avoided from happening.
He saw the security team gathered around your seat, he saw clif and another guard carrying you out of the row, he stood there frozen as if he had been struck by a rock.
Security guard: ladies and gentlemen the concert will continue at a later date one of the people Jensen cares about deeply is in a medically critical state he is needed elsewhere. Please see the guards and stage hands on your way out for complementary CDs and tee-shirts as our way of apologizing for this delay in what was to be a fantastic concert. Please make your way to the doors and exit in an orderly fashion.
The crowd grumbled but complied, Jensen was already off stage and getting into the ambulance with you… to ride with you to the hospital. The doctors asked questions and Jensen answered them best as he could. But it pained him to see you like that… laying there defenseless.
Jensen: is she gonna be ok?
Doctor: well she has suffered what seems to be effects of a sleep drug of some kind. Until we run some more tests we wont know much more than that until if or when she wakes up… for now i can have an extra blanket brought in for you… a nurse will be in periodically to top up her fluids.
Jensen: thank you doctor, i just dont know how ill survive this if she doesnt make it out of this alive.
Doctor: you will and so will she… as we speak we are working on a cure… do not fret just get some rest.
Jensen: can I cuddle next to her, I won't knock out any cords I just want to hold my girl!
The doctor moves a second bed to the side that Jensen was now sitting to remove his jacket and shoes…
The beds were attached and were not moving as Jensen now scooped you close to him so his arms just held you.
Doctor: I'll leave you alone, the nurse will check in, in a few hours.
Jensen just buried his face in your hair taking in your sweet scent… he felt tears beginning to fall, he sniffled and knew he was not able to hold back any more.
Jensen(through the sobs): im so sorry YN I should have been there, I should have never let you go… please wake up YN please we haven't had any time.
Then it dawned on Jensen just as he was drifting off to sleep. He was not sure if this would work, he wasn't sure if this was even a cure, but this situation reminded him kinda of sleeping beauty.
Jensen(to self): well I mean no harm would come from trying this… true love conquers all after all… alright please let this work.
Jensen leans down just as the nurse, a police officer and the doctor walk through the door, and jensen places a kiss to your lips.
This motion was a sign of his surrender, a sign of his apology to you, this was the same sign that he had promised to you all those months before.
But the kiss sent a Shockwave through the room, your monitor which showed your heart rate and your vitals spiked, Jensen kept a tight grip on you as he watched your eyes flutter open.
Jensen: baby hey hey its okay… don't worry, hey it's ok…
Officer Welton: Jensen, YN I'm officer Welton, unfortunately we have not caught this man yet, but we are not giving up your also not his only victims. He has thousands of them. So we have the entire nation on alert, there was a positive photo we did get from the security tape at the concert hall. So neither of you have anything to worry about. Yn, Jensen good luck we will let you know when we have him.
The officer leaves the doctor and the nurse come to check you over, Jensen takes a few moments to breathe in the washroom, he splashed some cold water on his face before coming back out to you scarfing down a bologna sandwich and a soda pop and some jello.
Yn: Jensen I hope your not angry with me…
Jensen: no no no its me who should apologize. I should never have let those texts go on as long as they did. And I'm so sorry this happened to you.
Yn: can we live happily ever after?
Jensen just smiles as he crawls back into bed with you by his side. You both blissfully and as comfortable as possible fall into a peaceful slumber.
After all you only get to be truly happy once in your life. However long it may be.
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falinscloaca · 2 years
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unhinged rant about recent events in kill six billion demons and how it isn’t actually shitty queer tropes but also very well might be but its also not finished so who knows whats actually going to happen it makes my head hurt a bit i saw a comment on twitter mentioning it and my brain internalized the FUCK outta wanting to bring up that topic somehow somewhere all this is pointless i’m going to explode. SPOILERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ksbd: here! have some (questionably oversexualized) sapphics!
ksbd: here! have a character who was continually given transfeminine motifs actually (magic) transition! (for the record unlike the other parenthesis i don’t think this was badly handled much. (magic) is not a wince.) 
ksbd twitter: hey i know this is going to look bad and i promise i hate “this trope” (???? everyone assumes it is “bury your gays” but i don’t even know if that was what he was referring to????) but you gotta trust me
ksbd: ok so one of these disappears completely (and is implicitly dead by the others dialogue + not being seen later or anything) or die trying to save protag (also.... fellas devils can revive with their masks and they can have a *chance* at preserving *some* of their identities but. the mask fucking... *melted*. its a pile of sludge. three years in the narrative past. i’m not saying her making a comeback is *impossible* but the common “oh yeah allison will put the mask back together obvi” is so stupid) (also who knows if literally precidenceless angelhumans can revive like angels do. we do not know shiiiit yet)
ksbd: the omniscient character keeps implying that everything is prewritten and is rather ambivalent on whether our “hero” has the ability to still like. DO anything significant in the grand scheme anymore. like on one hand thats sorta implied but also like the insistence that free will is an illusion doesn’t mean that the character can’t actually start trying to Accomplish gay-people-who-died-related stuff anymore LMAO. like theres still an overall “give up and move on” vibe pervading all of this (which.... are we SURE “the trope” isn’t smth about “hero uses power of love to defy death” or some related shit like “hero... is a hero in the conventional sense and saves the day”? are we SURE this is about burying your gays or fridging women or something?? did abaddon say smth on discord or somewhere????) 
ksbd twitter: for once please take a character being defined one way (omniscent) at face value jesus christ guys (both related and unrelated to the whole Rocks Fall thing its just. added flavor to that whole last barely-can-even-be-called-a-paragraph)
ksbd: ok now that this whole depressing stint into our plucky implicitly-lesbian-but-never-actually-stated-to-be(PLEASE JUST CALL YOURSELF A DYKE ALICE. I. ACK. AUTHORS USE *WORDS* CHALLENGE) protagonist withering away completely is OVER, its DONE, the ultradepression segment is moving on, here comes *some guy!* (that people are making huge assumptions about being her ex-failed-fling and then making assumptions on top of that about him being here to try to help her somehow)
like, none of this is actually inherently shitty (well, none of the things that are actually the point of this, i dislike how cio and allison were framed since first official Couples Moment but that doesn’t REALLY factor in with this). gay people dying is fucking *fine* if the plot actually works. and i’m not actually worried it won’t! it *might* fucking suck but i’m not nearly as invested in “oh this is the worst thing on earth the author BETRAYED his gay fans” as the like two or three people in comments sections and tweets i saw (thus granting me this god damn thought cabinet affliction). the hyperbole that like three (other) people i’ve seen about “here comes some guy!” (which i will continue to mention like that bc even though i don’t take issue with it its FUNNY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) is just *delightfully* misplaced imo. but this is still stuff thats like... i don’t want to say trouble-ING but at the very least a bit trouble-SOME? its the kind of shit that’ll seem completely different (for better or worse!!) once the story actually finishes but for now is just like..... *Ehhhhhh...* 
(also a lotta people are more worked up about Cio which like, fair, she just got a god damn collectible statue made and has a massive sub-fanbase of her own, but like. she had arguably the *entire* comic being subtextually sapphic and about ~two books worth of being textually very much bi. white chain meanwhile transitions in a moment of triumph immediately before her moment of triumph gets blown the fuck up sflkdhlsdhlkhlkgsd. one (fucking LONG) fight scene later and she’s completely MIA and we have no *clue* how her dying would work out (though again thankfully for her that ambiguity means that unlike Cio her coming back to relevance one way or another is kiiiinda all but confirmed. like the possibility exists that she doesn’t get to reincarnate she’s a human now Git Gud Scrubs but that writing decision sucks so bad that not even my worst-faith version of the author would pull that lksfdjlkfsdljksfdjkl) so she’s just kinda In Limbo And We’re Supposed To Just Kinda Treat Her As “dead details pending”. it sucks ass.) 
but yeah all this is like. seeing hints of genuinely fucking terrible writing flaws but they don’t *actually* exist yet but they do but they don’t yes they don’t no they do </3. (also with a queer author i wouldn’t even bat an eye at this. like who cares. in my writing ideas i have a *terrible* track record at killing anyone but i strive for the guts to just drop pianos on my hapless transsexuals)
so all in all this was pointless but if i didn’t write it i would physically explode
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tacit-semantics · 2 years
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It’s 3am which means it’s finally time. Dirk OCD posting under the cut. cw for in depth descriptions of compulsive behaviors regarding scrupulosity (moral), violent intrusive thoughts (alluded to, non-graphic), and contamination, as well as mentions of self harm. If you’re prone to picking up obsessions or compulsions through reading about them, I would suggest skipping out on this one
So first of all I wanna say that this is not intended to function as a set of assumptions/inferences that point towards dirk having ocd in canon so much as a set of ways in I, as a person with ocd, saw myself in him. It’s a very… enthusiastic headcanon of mine though so this switches back and forth between long winded babbling and then its canon inspiration depending on how excited I am at any given moment. Also, disclaimer: ocd can manifest in a whole bunch of ways, and a lot of them are super specific to the person in question, which is to say that I’ll be drawing a lot (but not entirely, on account of the fact that there’s very much a limit as to what I’m willing to discuss regarding me specifically) from personal experience for the sole reason that that’s how I best understand the disorder. Now, getting into it!
- first things first: he’s got scrupulosity obsessions, I think, specifically moral. Very, very afraid of hurting the people close to him, which in turn manifests as a sort of hypervigilance in everything he says and does. I think that in this context the knowledge of Bro would be equally devastating and necessary in that he’s concrete proof of the worst case scenario, and acceptance of that possibility is necessary to overcome ocd, but also like. I don’t think theres much in the way of mental health accommodations on post apocalyptic earth (much the same as current earth actually), so in practice this would just be Bad.
- speaking of hypervigilance: his attention always being split between his physical body and his dream self reminded me a lot of how a solid chunk of my brains processing power is always devoted to various bullshit, even if the rest of me’s working on autopilot. I also think he’d be the sort to assume that not anticipating a threat to his loved ones counts as a failure, so he’s always on guard/trying to stop things before they start/jumping at shadows, effectually. For me this manifested as a contamination fear but I don’t think that would track here I think he’d be more along the lines of trying to predict his loved one’s actions and putting out imaginary/preemptive fires accordingly
- this would also work well with his fear of manipulation I think. Like he’s so worried about his actions being controlling that he tries to prod at THEIR actions to ‘protect’ them from him which ends up as a sort of bizarre self fulfilling prophecy
-information hoarder. He’s taken the tests, he’s read the articles, he knows what’s wrong with him (he thinks) but also doesn’t want to use it as an excuse (he thinks) and also gets thrown into spirals when his actions don’t match up exactly with the information he’s gathered. I also think it would be fun to try and puzzle out mental health bullshit through the juggalo-internet. Not fun for him, but for me thinking about it
-hal is basically an extended study in rumination. Dirk needs definitive proof of himself and his motives, and well. Hal is not that, but I can see how he might have been intended to serve that function
-reassurance seeker but like in the way where he continually asserts to other people that he’s bad. In his mind this functions as a warning so that they know to be on guard around him. He worries about this being a sort of manipulation too, of course. Nothings ever easy.
-this gets more difficult when he goes from living alone and isolated to living with other people, I think, because now there’s an added layer of ways he has to worry about hurting them.
-if you didn’t know, a super common way for ocd to manifest is (unwanted and frightening) intrusive thoughts about hurting others in one way or another. I think it’d make sense for him to develop obsessions like these once he starts sharing physical space with other people. Like meals and the like he’ll just be sitting there zoned the fuck out because he’s monitoring every single urge and thought he has so he can ‘restrain’ as necessary
-also think he’d still be Constantly Aware of Everything, Always, even when he’s no longer splitting his consciousness in the literal sense. The thought process might start with something like noticing a chair is slightly wobbly and immediately having to fix it because otherwise it might fall, and if it falls when another person sits in it it’ll be his fault because he knew it was wobbly and didn’t do anything to fix it, and then he applies that thought process elsewhere and it escalates
-the thing is is that all this escalation happens pretty quickly because it’s a very intense set of feelings that you’re sitting with 24/7 so like cut to a month later and he’s pushing cups of water to the center of counters because otherwise they might spill and someone’ll slip and it’s HIS job to make sure they don’t, he’s repeatedly checking food over to make sure nothing’s wrong with it, he’s mapping everything he’s touched in the past week to see if he’s done anything bad or wrong, etc etc. these just keep getting increasingly more disconnected and bizarre like shit gets weird and frankly it might not even register for him that what he’s doing is irregular like from the inside things can seem as reasonable as they’re not
-that said, once you take that hyperawareness and ramp it up in reference to like everything, you realize that it just… isn’t sustainable, which means that at some point he inevitably‘fails’ and that goes as well as you think it does. Like on a good day he dismisses an ambiguous dot on a piece of bread as an obsessive quirk (maybe because he’s tired from other compulsion sets or something it happens) and then two days later someone accidentally eats a bit of bread before realizing there’s mold on it and well now dirk can’t get up from bed for the next three days sorry
-I think there’s a lot of really interesting things to say in terms of control here too. It’s all a bit ironic of course, as in something out of your control making you feel in control even if just for a second, fear of imposition taking a turn into imposition with a different motive, the distance between motive and action for that matter. I am getting off track.
-also dirk strikes me as the sort to have a comprehensive list (either written or mental) of every bad and ‘bad’ thing he’s done, ever. Regularly combs through his memories to see if he can think of others, and considers them obsessively both within and outside of context
-also just. That one convo he has where he’s talking about drowning in himself. I love that one
-physically, think he might scratch himself during panic attacks. Lot of self harm urges (head banging, eye trauma) but those don’t bother him nearly as much as his fears of hurting others. He’s unsocialized as fuck, and I think that as such he might not necessarily realize that he processes distress and anxiety in harmful/irregular ways
-I also wouldn’t be surprised if there was like this super noticeable gap between how he perceives himself and how other people perceive him too that’s pretty common. I don’t think he would have a fear of people finding out that he’s ‘bad’ by his standards though for the sole purpose that he assumes they already know
-Anyways from there it’s just like a various grab bag of related bullshit/uncategorized neuroses and obsession/compulsion sets. I think he has trich and maybe dermatillomania too. Autistic, definitely. Probably some other stuff. Comorbidity king. Sometimes he has to finish a compulsion set to sit down but he just finished a different one and is too tired to start again so he just stands on his phone for an hour. Has weird stress dreams. Bites his nails.
-all in all, ocd tends to latch on the things you care about- hence why so many intrusive thoughts are so ego dystonic, hence the fixation. Dirk, in canon and in this spiel here, loves the people he loves very much and just does not want to see them hurt and- unfortunately- sees himself as a threat thus. Well all of this.
-this concludes OCD dirk hour. If you have anything to add, please feel free! But also please be respectful about it, especially considering the subject matter.
EDIT: wrote a sequel to this, found here. It's not as put together as this one, but it's definitely a thing that exists
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thornedrose44 · 4 years
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Prompt: Lena accidentally creates something that makes everyone attracted to her except kara (she is immune) basically jealous!kara 😬
Read on AO3 (Prompt from @urjustwaiting)
“My dearest Lena,” Brainy began, brown eyes bright and earnest as he cradled Lena’s hand in both of his like it was something precious and fragile, “I have always considered you to be my intellectual equal and a friend of the highest order. Recently, however, I have found my feelings of friendship for you have shifted - grown into something unexpected and wondrous.”
Brainy inhaled sharply, gathering his courage as Lena’s eyes widened with abject shock and horror at what was occurring.
“Lena Luthor, I have fallen irrevocably in love with you”, Briany declared confident and unfalteringly certain, “and I was wondering if I could spend time conversing with you over a sizeable meal?”
To say Lena’s day had started strangely would be the understatement of the century. She had arrived at the DEO following the news that there had been an attempted break-in last night at the secret facility that had been successfully fended off by Kara, Brainy, Nia and Andrea (the newest superhero to join the club).
Alex, who had taken her first night off since becoming director, had rushed onsite as soon as she was alerted to what had happened; her first order had been to bring Lena in to evaluate the building’s defenses and put in suitable improvements for any weaknesses identified. It was a sign of how much trust Lena had earned amongst the Superfriends, and more specifically Alex, that no one hesitated to call her in for help with something as sensitive as security flaws.
Lena had fought hard to earn back the trust she had nearly lost, rebuild the bridges both sides had burnt and therefore she didn’t balk at the ridiculously early wake-up call and did not even consider saying no to Alex’s request.
The second she arrived at the DEO, she knew something was off.
People were staring at her, which shouldn’t have been odd for a Luthor in the slightest but Lena was used to being ignored at the DEO. The agents milling the corridors would give fleeting glances and welcoming nods but nothing more - many of them owed their life to a last minute scientific breakthrough courtesy of Lena’s intellect and as such they respected her enough to treat her like she was one of them - like she belonged here - because of it. Walking into the DEO to find herself the subject of many furtive gazes and unsubtle wandering eyes was therefore worrisome to say the least.
Lena’s concern merely increased as she made her way further into the DEO where she couldn’t go more than a metre without being approached by agents trying out a cheesy pick-up line or inviting her to coffee/dinner. Two rather charming agents actually dropped down on one knee at the same time to propose to her there and then - Lena was saved from answering as her wannabe future spouses got into a fist fight. The worst one, by far, was Pam from HR who shouted that she was enthusiastically willing to bear all of Lena’s future children - Lena promptly sprinted into the command centre and had been momentarily relieved to see Brainy there waiting for her.
The relief was obviously dashed a minute later when Brainy grabbed her hand and sweetly announced his love for her.
“Brainy, what the hell!?”
Those were the exact words Lena had wanted to shout but had been unable to find her voice to do so, thankfully (or not so as the case may be), Nia had voiced them for her and was striding into the room with a furious expression on her face.
“Nia, it’s not what it looks like-” Lena rushed to reassure as Nia pushed her boyfriend away from the youngest Luthor.
“How could you?!” Nia demanded, rounding on the Coulan.
“Nia, I think there’s something wrong-” Lena began to interrupt, knowing how much Brainy loved Nia and her alarm bells from the agents earlier ringing loudly in her head when....
“I wanted to ask her out.” Nia exclaimed stamping her foot childishly before turning to face Lena with fluttering eyelashes and a seductive pout. “Lena, please my love is far more real than Brainy’s. Don’t go out with him.” Nia pleaded as Briany scoffed derisively behind her.
“Lena is smart enough to see through your fraudulent affection. She was on the precipice of accepting my offer of a date.” Briany cut in with a superior raise of his chin.
“No, she wasn’t!” Nia rebuked, turning back to Brainy with clenched fists.
“Yes, she was!” Brainy returned, chest puffing out as they both stepped forward as if to engage in battle when a sudden red and blue blur appeared between them as a physical barrier.
“What on Earth is going on?” Kara questioned, brow creased in confusion as she looked between the couple that seemed to be seconds away from trading blows.
“I LOVE LENA MORE!” They both shouted in answer whilst they simultaneously lunged towards one another.
“What?!” Kara gasped as she hurriedly tried to keep the two apart. “Lena?” Kara asked, wide-eyed and gobsmacked, clearly looking for an explanation.
“I don’t know!” Lena responded quick and panicked. “I came in and everyone’s been…”
“Everyone’s been what?” Kara prompted as she ducked a wild swing from a feisty Nia.
“Like this.” Lena gestured to Briany and Nia who were futilely trying to dodge around the kryptonian superhero.
Kara blinked rapidly at this information but reacted quickly, super speeding Brainy and Nia away from the command centre as carefully as she could. Kara was back less than a minute later, appearing harried and uncomfortable but she wasn’t looking at Lena any differently to normal. Soft blue eyes watched her the exact same way and as soon as she was back, she gently encouraged Lena into their standard hug with a light touch to her elbow.
Lena folded happy and willing into Kara’s arms burying her face into the kyrptonian’s shoulder as Kara gently stroked her back.
“So… interesting morning so far?” Kara teased managing to pull forth a relieved chuckle from the CEO.
“You could say that.” Lena sighed, letting her eyes slip closed for a fleeting second as she quickly inhaled Kara’s familiar airy scent before pulling away and putting her armour back on. “I seem to have suddenly become irresistible to everyone here.” Lena explained, nearly convincing herself that she saw a flash of a sad pout on her best friend’s face when she ended their hug. “Except for you, of course.” Lena clarified.
“Well… uh… I…” Kara stammered, face blushing a bright red as she self-consciously rubbed the back of her neck.
“Don’t worry, Kara, I’m not offended.” Lena reassured, giving Kara an out even as it caused her heart to painfully twinge with a familiar loss and yearning that always accompanied the realisation that Kara would never see her the same way.
“Lena-” Kara began, lips pressed tight together as she took a tentative step forward.
“Lena, there you are!”
Kara and Lena’s heads turned immediately to see Andrea striding into the room, dressed to impress in a tight black dress and red soled heels that drew attention to her long, sinful legs.
“Oh, dear…” Lena murmured, swallowing thickly, as Andrea approached with a dark predatory gaze that promised to fulfill all of Lena’s long forgotten teenage fantasies.
Lena was so fixated on the sight of her first crush looking like she was about to devour her right there in the DEO command centre that she didn’t see the heavy frown form on Kara’s face, nor the way blue eyes flickered red for a flash.
The sound of a rumbling growl was the only thing that broke through Lena’s stupor and pre-empted a red-blue blur sweeping Andrea out of the room, presumably to deposit her in the same place as Brainy and Nia.
“Was that your stomach?” Lena asked when Kara reappeared a few moments later.
“Was what my stomach?”
“That growling noise?” Lena inquired with a tilt of her head.
“Uhhhh….” Kara’s mouth opened and closed, the tips of her ears turning red before she nodded her head in jerky agreement. “Yep, stomach, super hungry, no breakfast.”
“You must be, you’re dropping verbs.” Lena joked.
“Uh huh.” Kara muttered, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot as she intermittently shot discouraging glares to any agents that looked like they were even considering coming up to Lena. “Do you have any idea what’s causing this?” Kara questioned, placing her hands on her hips and trying to ease into her Supergirl persona.
“No.” Lena answered honestly.
“Were you exposed to anything? Or working with anything that might have caused something like this?” There was no accusation within the questions, just genuine curiosity and a desire to work through the possible causes. Lena didn’t doubt Kara’s trust in her, not after everything they had been through.
“No.” Lena replied after thinking carefully.
“You were here yesterday and everyone was fine.” Kara rationalised, “So it must have happened since you left.”
“Kara, I didn’t do anything after I left. I went home, watched a documentary, had a bath and went to bed as I promised you.”
Lena’s work hours since re-taking L-Corp as her own had exploded and her rare free time was regularly being utilised to support the Superfriends. Lena had spent yesterday tweaking Kara’s supersuit to improve its diagnostic capabilities to provide Kara an edge when flying into an unknown situation. It had taken Kara forcibly frog marching her out of the building and using her puppy dog eyes to get Lena to promise that she would finally go home and relax.
“Good girl.” Kara said, softening immediately at Lena’s answer, blue eyes twinkling with pride.
Lena internally screamed at herself to keep her praise kink under tight control.
“Then maybe something happened overnight? Or whilst you were on your way in?” Kara continued to theorise allowing Lena much needed time to regain her cool.
“Unlikely,” Lena replied thoughtfully, “I stopped for coffee on my way in and no one there acted oddly. It wasn’t until I got to the DEO that things changed.”
“Then-”
“SOMETHING WEIRD IS GOING ON!” Alex announced as she strode in, practically snarling at the agents that were working at their consoles, all of whom had looked a second away from getting to their feet and rushing eagerly towards the older Danvers as soon as she appeared.
Kara, meanwhile, instantly moved to be slightly in front of Lena like a personal shield ready to jump forward but careful not to overstep and diminish the CEO’s autonomy - Lena couldn’t help how her heart fluttered at Kara’s mindful concern.
“Are you in love with Lena too?” Kara challenged, narrowing her gaze at her sister.
Alex came to a sharp and sudden stop, jaw dropping open as she looked between Kara and Lena, “Too?” Alex echoed, and Lena watched in confusion as a slow and incredibly bright grin appeared to light up the Director’s face. “Did you finally-”
“BrianyandNiaareinlovewithLena!” Kara yelled, panicked and fast paced, hands flapping wildly at her sides.
The smile vanished alongside whatever Alex had been about to say. “I’m sorry, did you say Brainy and Nia are in love with Lena?”
“Yep.” Kara popped as she let out an unusually large sigh of relief that made Lena think she may have missed something important in the sister’s aborted interaction. “As well as nearly all the DEO agents, but no one from the coffee shop so we think it's localised to here which is weird because we can’t seem to find a potential cause that would explain that.” Kara rambled, clearly intent on brushing over whatever had just happened. “Therefore I asked if you were in love with Lena like Briany, Nia and Andrea.” Kara explained placing unnecessary emphasis on their friends' names.
Alex glanced from Kara to Lena, frowning heavily, “Sorry Lena but I’m quite happily taken.”
“Shame.” Lena tsked, earning her an affectionate eye roll from the redhead, before being struck by a sudden realisation. “Wait, then why were you coming in yelling that something weird is going on if you didn’t know about me?”
Alex shot a look over her shoulder before moving closer to the other two and dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “People are being… ‘overly friendly’ to me.”
Kara and Lena shared a look.
“Hey!” Alex snapped, bringing guilty green and blue eyes back to her. “I’m being serious here!”
“So by ‘overly friendly’ you mean…” Lena prompted.
“People keep trying to hug me and ask me how my day is going. And they keep… complimenting me.” Alex whispered like she was sharing some heinous crimes.
Both Kara and Lena’s eye muscles twitched with the desire to share another look but they managed to resist - just.
“It’s weird.” Alex defended haughtily. “Yesterday, they were too scared to look me in the eye for longer than a second and now they can’t go ten seconds without giving me a motivational speech about how good a job I’m doing.”
“It could be worse.” Lena said trying to be comforting,
“How?” Alex huffed.
“Well, Pam from HR told me she wanted to bear my children.” Lena said with a shrug that was immediately followed by a loud CRUNCHING noise.
Lena turned to find the source of the ear-splitting sound only to discover that the round titanium table Kara had been leaning against was now heavily crumpled around two tightly clenched kryptonian fists.
“Kara?” Lena squeaked whilst Alex merely face-palmed.
***
“It doesn’t make sense.” Lena mused, unknowingly posed like ‘The Thinking Man’ on the stool as Alex and Kara paced the space.
They had made the wise decision to move to what was considered Lena’s lab at the DEO to free themselves of the foot traffic of the command centre that had both Danvers sisters glowering at any agents that dared to approach (though for vastly different reasons).
“What are you thinking Luthor?” Alex asked, plopping herself down heavily on the stool by the CEO.
“Disparate pieces that don’t logically fit together.” Lena murmured quietly more to herself than to the other two before she lifted her head and tried to slowly talk through what her mind was attempting to process. “Whatever happened, clearly happened in the last,” Lena glanced at her watch, grimacing at the time as her head pounded with lack of sleep, “eight hours. I left here at six yesterday and no one was acting any differently to normal. Whatever has happened changes people’s behaviour towards us.” Lena gestured between herself and Alex, “but only us. And whatever is doing it is localised to the DEO.”
Lena paused, giving the sisters a chance to disagree with her assertion of facts, both Danvers nodded in agreement and encouragement to continue.
“Therefore, we have two options:” Lena continued, laying out the two theories she was working with, “either something happened at the DEO that is causing this and we are merely triggers for it. Or something happened specifically to us and being here is triggering it.”
Alex pursed her lips, thinking carefully through Lena’s logic, “Which do you think is more likely?”
“Something happening at the DEO.” Lena answered with a shrug, “One target, one location, rather than two is more straightforward.”
“Agreed.” Alex sighed, “And we know something did happen after we both left last night.”
“The attempted break in.” Lena concurred.
Alex nodded, shifting to face the kryptonian who had been listening intently to the conversation, “Kara, give us a rundown of what happened.”
Kara frowned, hands moving to rest on her hips in classic Supergirl pose, “It was just dumb thugs looking to make a quick buck. They’d stumbled upon some alien tech that they knew fetched a good price on the black market. Rather than sell it quickly and get away with it, they got greedy. They knew more tech was held here and figured they could double their profits if they used the tech they already had to pull off a heist.”
“I want it noted that the DEO is the worst kept secret in this city,” Lena snarked, with a roll of her eyes, “and that’s saying something considering Supergirl's disguise is a pair of glasses.”
“Noted,” Alex grunted, shooting the youngest Luthor a smug smirk, “which is why making it your job to fix that for us.”
Lena chuckled darkly, “You couldn’t afford my consultation fees.”
Alex’s smugness increased tenfold at that, her chin lifting defiantly as she laid down her ace, “That’s why I’m making Kara be the one to ask you.”
Lena gasped, utterly outraged, “You underhanded-“
“Guys, focus!” Kara bellowed, clapping her hands loudly together to break the two of them out of their regular snarky banter that could go on for a good hour if not interrupted quickly (it was how they showed their affection for one another).
“Right.”
“Sorry.”
Alex and Lena murmured apologetically, gazes dropping to the floor as Kara shook her head in amusement at their familiar antics.
“What tech did they use?” Alex questioned, bringing them back on track.
“Stupid gas.”
Lena’s brow furrowed at the response and Alex’s aggrieved grunt that followed it, “I’m sorry, what?”
“It’s a bio weapon that makes-“
“People stupid?” Lena guessed.
“Hyper emotional, but… yeah.” Alex clarified, “Like when I was exposed to it, I just laughed for like an hour straight.”
Lena hummed thoughtfully, brain whirring away to make connections with this new information, “Are kryptonians immune?”
“No.” Alex laughed, earning her a pout from the Super that made Lena take a mental note to beg Kara for the obvious story behind it another time.
“Then why isn’t Kara affected by all of this?” Lena questioned, throwing in the other variable they hadn’t considered.
“Now that you mention it, the stupid gas didn’t work on me last night.”
Alex’s face scrunched up in confusion, “It did last time.”
Kara shrugged, seemingly unconcerned, “I think Lena’s upgraded suit protected me.”
“My upgraded…” Lena began slowly, her eyes suddenly going wide as she recognised the suit Kara was currently wearing to be the one she had been tinkering with all day yesterday, “Kara, I told you not to wear that yet. I hadn’t finished tweaking it!”
Kara winced at the sharp tone, hands flying up in supplication and surrender, as she whined defensively, “It worked perfectly Lena.”
“That’s not the point-“ Lena rebuked, crossing her arms aggressively causing the superpowered alien to shrink under her green-eyed glare.
“Kara’s not affected...” Alex murmured, though her voice was quiet there was something sharp to her tone that cut through the room - it was the tone that preceded a ‘Eureka’.
“Alex?” Kara and Lena both prompted.
“I have an idea.” Alex announced jumping to her feet, and snatching up her jacket, “I need to test something out.”
“Okay, what are you thinking?” Kara called out as Alex rushed out of the lab.
“I’m thinking that I’m grateful I memorised the number of that twenty four hour Chinese takeaway.”
***
Lena and Alex stood back and watched in complete horror as the DEO agents ravaged the table loaded up with potstickers, stuffing their mouths with ten at a time and throwing punches over the last handfuls. They had to forcibly pull Kara away from the scene who twitched with the obvious desire to throw herself into the mix to get a share for herself.
“I don’t understand.” Kara wailed, stamping her foot pathetically, once they had returned to the lab.
“Oh my god.” Lena muttered, snatching up the tablet she had been using yesterday and scrolling through everything she had done to Kara’s suit, leaving the explanation task to the older Danvers.
“They’re feeling what you feel.” Alex announced, “Lena and I aren’t the catalyst. You are.”
Kara’s crinkle appeared and deepened.
“It’s why everyone has been so friendly to Alex.” Lena mumbled, taking over the explanation absentmindedly as she distractedly ran through data, looking between the suit upgrades and the specification of ‘Stupid Gas’. “They feel your sisterly love for her and are treating her like you would but to an extreme degree. It must be because of their exposure to the gas mixed with some upgrade I put into your suit.” Lena frowned, mind running a mile a minute, “I fitted in further diagnostic capabilities that might be able to identify biological toxins and alert you, but-“ Lena froze, head snapping upwards to stare dumbly at her best friend, her entire brain grinding to a dead halt.
“Lena?” Kara inquired, blue eyes instantly glowing with concern at Lena’s absolute stillness and dead-eyed stare.
Alex nudged Kara’s side and whispered helpfully, “I think she’s just realised.”
“Realised what?”
Alex directed a soft and understanding smile at her sister, “How people have been acting towards her and what that means…”
“Oh…” Kara squeaked, paling considerably and breath held tight as she waited for Lena to finally react.
“You want to bear my children?!” Lena yelled incredulously, shattering the awkward silence with that explosive revelation.
Kara’s entire body flushed crimson, as she spluttered out (unable to stop herself), “Ummm… I mean… Preferably after a few dates…”
“Annnnnnd that’s my cue…” Alex announced, turning on her heel sharply and marching out of the room.
Lena blinked repeatedly, still not fully rebooted from this turn of events and everything it could potential - hopefully - entail.
“Lena… I…” Kara began, voice thick with emotion as she took timid, shaky steps towards her best friend, “I don’t know what to say…”
“You love me?” Lena asked, the bluntness of the question softened by the tremble to her voice that highlighted the vulnerability and hope of the question.
It was the hopefulness in Lena’s voice and the way green eyes were dark with poorly hidden want that gave Kara the courage to lift her chin, puff out her chest and declare sincerely, “More than anything.”
Lena let out a shaky breath, throwing her tablet down on the bench and demanding sternly, “Take off the suit.”
“Really?” Kara’s eyes bulged at the request, the flush from earlier deepening to a boiled crimson, “I mean I’m not saying no but I was kind of hoping we could go out on a date first. Maybe? If you’re interested?”
“Kara,” Lena said stepping forward into Kara’s personal space which effectively stopped Kara’s ramble, “you’re still wearing the upgraded suit which is feedbacking to everyone in the DEO your emotions. If you take it off everyone goes back to normal.”
“Oh,” Kara breathed, shaking her head with embarrassment, “I thought-“
Lena reached out, threading her fingers through Kara’s golden hair affectionately before seeking out the nape of her neck to gently tug Kara down the couple of inches between them so that she could press their lips hotly together. Kara’s hands instantly sought out Lena’s hips even as her mouth slipped open granting access to Lena’s insistent tongue.
Lena’s free hand traced the emblem on the supersuit whilst she teased her nails against Kara’s neck earning her an appreciative groan that served as the only warning before Kara effortlessly hoisted Lena up onto the lab bench pressing eagerly forward into the space between Lena’s legs.
Lena nipped at Kara’s bottom lip before breaking away, panting heavily to regain her breath. Kara, meanwhile, didn’t even hesitate to track kisses down Lena’s jaw and neck, sucking at her pulse-point until Lena’s legs wrapped tightly around Kara’s body desperately trying to earn some relief.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this?” Lena gasped.
“Oh, I do.” Kara murmured earnestly, leaning back to fully appreciate how wrecked Lena looked.
Lena lightly shoved Kara back with a playful laugh, fingers tapping against the edges of Kara’s supersuit emblem as she quirked a mischievous eyebrow. “The sooner you take this off, the sooner the problem is fixed and we can go on that date.”
Kara’s entire expression lit up at that and in flash she had disappeared only to return less than a second later dressed in the DEO sweatsuit that Lena adored.
“Shall we?” Kara checked, bouncing up and down so excitedly that Lena couldn’t resist pulling her back in for another deep kiss.
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bokettochild · 3 years
Text
Day 5: I've Got Red In My Ledger
Whumptober Day 5: Betrayal/Misunderstanding/Broken Nose
So, I ended up using all three options, and 'm honestly not sure if this counts as Warriors Whump, Four Whump or both.
I will excuse Legend's presence as being because I just wrote a Four and Legend one-shot and was still in Split Heroes mode.
Hope you read, enjoy, and don't hate me for what I've done, because I don't regret it :)
Warriors keeps staring at them.
The captain’s piercing royal blue eyes have been boring a hole into their back for ages and the ridiculous part of them worries that if they don’t keep moving that stare will bore a hole right through them. Thanks Red.
What? It’s a valid concern!
Red, when has having someone stare a hole through you ever been a valid concern?
Wild’s guardians.
Alright, but Wars isn’t a guardian, he’s-
He helped to build them. Red murmurs softly. Plus, he’s the Captain, I wouldn’t put it past him to be able to do something crazy after spending so much time jumping across worlds and learning stuff from the people there.
Red, we all jump through portals and learn things from across time. I think we’ll be okay.
“Four?” Legend’s voice is the one that breaks through to him as the vet stops in front of him, two bowls in hand and one offered to them as the vet cocks a brow. “Y’all okay?”
They smile at the vet, despite the itch of someone’s eyes fixed on them, and take the offered food. “I’m good, just thinking is all.”
“About what?” Legend presses, sitting next to them with curious cock of his brows as he begins to eat, violet eyes staring them down, piercing, but not as pointedly so as Warriors’ gaze. Legend’s eyes are gentle for once, and the vet seems to relax slightly as he eats, seated at their side and calmer than he’s been in days.
Four wishes they could feel the same.
They don’t regret sharing their secret with the vet (even if it wasn’t on purpose) and it’s nice to have someone to feel safe with, but no matter how warmly Legend might smile at them, a secretive wink or knowing smirk being shot their way, they’re still on edge.
“Nothing much, just...thoughts, you know?”
“No.” Legend deadpans.
They chuckle nervously. “Thinking about our different worlds and how we learn so much by hopping across them, you know? Like, Wild learning the recipes from your time or Wind getting to learn to ride horseback in Twilight’s world.” Th vet nods wordlessly, sucking on his spoon as they turn their attention to the meal Wild has so lovingly prepared.
Warriors still hasn’t looked away.
He’s been doing this for days, and usually, Four wouldn’t be worried, but it hadn’t started until after Shadow had helped them trip up an enemy in battle, and though the action probably saved the captain’s life, Wars hasn’t stopped watching them and it’s beginning to remind them of that time that Ezlo and them had been cornered by a cat in Pita’s Bakery. They still have the scar from that incident, and it’s something they guard the secret behind fiercely, if only out of shame of their own weakness and foolishness in that particular situation. Ezlo had warned them not to try darting away, to stay hidden in the sacks until the cat had been gone, but they’d rushed forwards and barely survived being made mincemeat.
Ezlo had needed stitches.
They had needed a minish healer and a bath in red potion. And even if they cover the worst of the scars beneath their tunic, the ragged tip of their left ear is a reminder. It’s why they chose to wear their earring, to remember to listen when the minish or the little voice in their head -or voices now- tell them to be careful. That voice, all four of them, is screaming at them to shield themselves.
And really, they should have listened.
Legend is on his feet in a moment, sword out to catch the second blow that falls their way as their ambusher grunts out an irritated oink.
“Ambush!” Wind shouts as the others pull themselves to their feet and grab hold of their weapons. They’d left their sword beside their seat, and from their place lying on the ground they can’t reach, but Shadow, Hylia bless him, sneakily pushes it close enough that they can wrap their fingers around the hilt and jump in to join the battle with their brothers.
It’s not a large group of monsters, and it doesn’t take much work between nine heroes and a sneaky shadow to fell them all, and they’re just turning to offer Wind a high five as the kid kicks the final lizalfoes off his sword when the cold of a blade presses against their throat.
“Warriors, what the bloody heck!” Legend shouts, jumping back up from where he’d been knelt to help Sky begin relighting their ruined campfire.
“Drop your sword.” The captain’s voice grates out behind them, cold and commanding in a way that sends shivers down their spine.
What’s going on?
The captain’s gone bonkers is what! Green, what’s the plan?
There’s only silence from their leader as the other deviants wait impatiently for an answer.
Green, we need a plan, War is-
Their sword clatters to the earth as the other colors begin to swear and panic, but Green has forced their hand, literally, and the stare they send their weapon is both resigned and horrified, one eye flickering various colors as the other remains solidly green.
Across camp, Legend’s own eyes are bugging out of his head, panic clear in his gaze as the vet’s hand closes on his sword hilt.
“Stay your hand, Legend.” Warriors rumbles, firm but not cruel. “No need for weapons-”
“Says the one holding a sword to Four’s throat!”
The captain doesn’t even shift, and their mind spins as they try and decipher what it is that the other man is doing or thinking, Red and Blue still screaming inside their mind as Vio murmurs various schemes about what they can do while Green sits in stony silence.
What were you thinking!
Green! We- what if- Red is nearly sobbing. Green, please! What are you doing?
Calm down. Of Green had his own body he’d be shooting them a rueful but reassuring look, and they can all feel it. This is a mistake or misunderstanding. If we listen and don’t make it worse, it can be cleared up faster.
Brilliant, might want to fill the vet and Old Man in on your plan though, and maybe Sky too, guys about to blow up.
They shoot a wary glance towards the Chosen Hero, careful not to move their head lest they press against the blade at their throat. Sky’s eyes are wide, but he’s still as a board and already falling into his ‘king stance’ as Legend calls it, shoulders back and jaw set with a grace and power behind his gaze that makes them shiver even more than the cool steel at their neck.
Or wait, that metal isn’t all cold, there's a bit of warm sticky stuff brushing their jaw and they nearly shiver again as they realize that Wars hadn’t even cleaned the monster blood off of his blade before trapping them.
“The smithy’s been lying to us.” Warriors grates out, cold and harsh and angry as the blade presses closer to their throat. They have to inch back a bit to avoid being cut, only to find themselves stumbling against the captain’s chest. “He may be a hero chosen by the goddesses, but he’s chosen his own path.”
“What do you mean?” Time’s voice is emotionless, stance unreadable and face carefully blank and it’s unsettling in the extreme, making the other young heroes draw back with wary looks as they glance from one to another of the adults, only Legend standing firm and furious as he glares across at the captain.
“Four’s working with the shadow.” The captain spits out, blade again pressing close to their neck. “I’ve been watching him, he’s either learned it's powers or the beast is here itself, but I know what I saw, he’s got a shadow helping him.”
The vet twitches. “Duh. Have you never read the Legend of the Four Sword?”
There are a few confused sounds from the others, but Four can’t bother to figure out what the others are all saying and doing as the steel presses sharp against his throat, leaving him pressed against Warriors’ armor-clad chest with no way to escape as something warm bubbles against the blade and crimson leaks down from the line the blade presses against him.
“Let him go!” Legend shrieks, hands already on his own blade as he darts across the camp, but Warriors, only draws Four closer, voice unbearable gentle and pained as he addresses Legend. “Vet, you’re not yourself. He’s messed with your mind, can’t you see?  It’s why you two have been so close all of a sudden, he’s put a dark spell n you, don’t give into it.”
“I’ll do what I bloody well want!” Legend screams in return, chest heaving as the tempered sword comes unsheathed, tip inches from Warriors’ face as Legend’s body begins to tremble. “Let him go, Captain.” The title is spat out like a curse, and Four can nearly feel Warriors’ shoulders sag as the man winces, but Legend doesn’t lower his blade even as Wars gently urges him to calm.
The others have started moving closer too, doubt on a few faces that makes their heart sink in their chest. Sky’s gaze is firm though as the Chosen Hero settles a hand on Legend’s shoulder. “Let him go, wars. If there’s a problem that needs addressing, we’ll address it like civil adults.” The words make hope flutter in their chest, but Warriors is only pressing closer, his blade digging in and making them whimper as blood dribbles into the collar of their tunic.
“Not a chance, Sky, he’ll get away, shadows are sneaky like that! They-” The captain is cut off suddenly, breath catching as the man wheezes behind them, his hand on the sword at their throat loosening its grip and giving them room enough to breathe again.
Legend takes the opening, whatever it is that caused it, to dart forwards, dropping his own sword and pulling at the captain’s sword arm hard enough that Sky can scoop them up into his strong arms and duck away, holding them close to his chest and giving them a full view of the shadowy hands that have wrapped around Warriors’ throat.
“I’d watch who you messed with if I were you, Captain.” Shadow hisses in the man’s ear before releasing him, zipping over to where they lay in Sky’s arms, startling both the Skyloftain and the vet, who’s already reaching for his weapon again as the shade stops to float over them. “Four, oh gosh Rainbow, are you okay?”
Good old Shadow.
Vi, we almost died, now’s not the time.
“All good.” They wheeze with a shaky smile, eyes darting up to Sky’s wary ones and then down to Legend’s steely indigo ones. Neither hero has made a move though, and for that Four is grateful.
A few paces away, Warriors is rubbing at his throat and staring in shock and horror at the shade that hovers over the trio of heroes who crossed him. They wince, this is not going to be easy.
“You’re bleeding.” Shadow hisses, nearly growls as his fangs glint in the glow of faded embers. “He- Oh Lolia no, this ain’t going down like this, not on my watch!”
Well Shadow’s managed to accidentally calm Legend at least, as the vet loosens slightly at the name of the Lolian Goddesses name, even if Sky still hold them tight like he thinks he’s going to have to run.
The shade looks up, away from them for a moment and salutes Sky with a knowing nod, all cockiness gone as from his demeanor as he addresses the Chosen Hero. “Thanks for sticking up for my idiot, feathers, watch him for a second while I handle this freak, yeah?” And Sky doesn’t even have time to speak or agree or even blink before Shadow has whizzed across the cam and sent one clawed fist slamming into Warriors’ face, a sickening crunch breaking the silence as Warriors stumbles, hand reaching for his face as Shadow wrings out his hand. “Thats for hurting my friend, you asshole!”
“Shadow.” Red’s wrested control as they flop against Sky’s chest. “That is not helping! You hurt Warriors!”
“He hurt you first!” The protective shade shouts back, crossing his arms and giving Wars his scary eyes before darting back to hover at Sky’s shoulder, much to the poor man’s surprise. “Racist jerk, what am I evil just because I’m a shadow? Never heard of shadow puppets as a kid? Or shadow dancing? Hey, guess what, you don’t need to think every freaking dark thing that moves is evil!”
Sky frowns, eyes straining as he stares at the being leaning on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
“Four’s shadow, resident dragon master, smithy wrangler and protector of one stupid hero who thinks surrendering and keeping the peace is more important than keeping their hide in one piece.” Shadow pokes their shoulder pointedly at that, making them wince as Blue grumbles something about sharp claws.
“So, you are real.” Legend cocks his head, chest still heaving and cheeks still flushed as the vet visibly tries to force himself back under control. “Huh.”
Shadow turns, hovering mid-air and giving Legend a once over. The shade offers a strained grin, forced and brittle as he tries to distract them. “Rabbit huh? Nice. Rainbow’s always liked rodents. You the younger or older brother here?”
And even though all eyes are fixed on them, Warriors glaring and the others staring in disbelief, Four find themselves bursting into laughter because, of all things, of course Legend would apparently also have a shadow form, and the fact that it’s a rabbit is only making it worse. To their surprise, Sky’s laughter joins their own, and across camp, Twilight huffs a strained chuckle as Legend glares up at the floating shade.
“I told you!” Warriors wheezes, blood spilling down his face as he pulls himself up. “It's a shadow! Four’s working with Dark Link!”
Shadow hisses. “That nutcase? Are you kidding? I’d rather die again, thank you!”
And really, now is as good a time as any for them to explain. “He’s just a normal shadow, Wars. Yeah, Ganon and Vaati brought him to life, but he’s been helping me protect Hyrule since we freed him form their control. He’s on our side, he was just nervous about showing himself around all of you guys because we heard you all talking about your own shadows.” Their eyes are flickering violet as they stare at the captain, and they know it. “He’s not a monster, and he’s only a threat if you make him one, same as any of us.”
The captain moves to protest, only to have Hyrule clear his throat from the edge of camp, all eyes swiveling to the traveler as Hyrule nods slowly. “He’s telling the truth, the Legends of the Four Sword all say that the hero befriended and helped his shadow, and the shadow reformed and sacrificed himself to save Hyrule.”
“Exactly.” Legend squeak growls. “The only threat in this camp is someone who’s more willing to draw a blade on their comrade than to approach them with their concerns.” The words make Wars flinch, maybe more than the blow Shadow had landed to his face, and though the captain makes to speak, he's cut off once again by Legend’s harsh voice. “Don’t want to hear it, Captain. I’ve got my brother to help heal up after what you did to him.”
It’s like the mirror shattering all over again, the silence in the air as two parties are separated by a line none can see as Legend and Sky settle on the opposite side of the camp from the others, Shadow hovering over the vet’s shoulder as Legend turns his back on Warriors, dabbing gently at the cut on Four's throat with a cloth damp with red potions.
The captain stiffens, standing and turning on his heel to march towards the other end of camp.
Blue eyes never leave them as their three protectors hover and fuss over them.
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summercourtship · 3 years
Note
i absolutely love your amanda writings! the lack of amanda fics anywhere makes me so sad. if possible could i request something mega angsty with her 🧍🏻‍♀️ i love angst but i know not a lot of people do so totally okay if you don't want to take this one! (if you take on this request it does not have to be dbd related)
Thank you!!! She def deserves more fic- I love her so much and think she’s such an interesting character to explore.
Quick question for all y’all: do you think it’s more interesting when Amanda’s s/o is also a Jigsaw apprentice or when they don’t know about Amanda’s involvement in the murders? I can’t decide which intrigues me more!
also taking this moment to plug my amanda playlist again
last night.
Amanda Young x Reader | warnings: character death | word count: 1077
“Hey, can we talk?”
Amanda slammed the drawer she’d been rummaging in, tossing the first-aid supplies on the counter. She hadn’t heard you, opening another drawer and starting to shift through its contents.
You’d only realized that she was in your apartment when you’d heard your front door slam shut. Though at first you had thought it was someone coming to kill or kidnap you, but when you’d crept into the living space, the kitchen light was on and Amanda was standing in front of your junk drawers, clearly out of it.
“Amanda!” You say, louder than you’d have liked for this time of night. But it got her to finally look up at you, her eyes wide and frantic. It took her a moment to recognize you, bringing her mind back to the present moment and away from whatever she had been preoccupied with.
You take a moment to really look at her, how different she was from the last time you saw her. Something had clearly happened, and you feared the worst. Amanda was no stranger to relapse, but every time you thought about her falling back into her dangerous habits your heart broke. Seeing her frantically searching for something in your kitchen when you’d been presumed asleep didn’t help your suspicion.
You didn’t know which was worse: her trying to find valuables to pawn for drugs or something to numb the pain and distract her from her cravings. Neither of which were going to be in your kitchen drawers, most of them filled with random wires, take-out menus, and batteries.
“I’m worried about you. I rarely see you anymore, and you seem... really unlike yourself.” You move towards her, and you notice just how tired she looks. Her hair is messily tied back into a ponytail, strands hanging out and sticking to her face with oil and sweat. The bags under her eyes are prominent, her eyes hazy and somewhere else. In short, she looks like she’s been having the roughest day possible.
“I’m fine.” Even her voice is tired, flat and grating on her vocal chords.
“You clearly aren’t.” You place a hand on her arm, relieved when she doesn’t throw it off. “You can talk to me, you know. I’m always here for you.”
For a moment, she relaxes at your touch, before she catches sight of the supplies she’d thrown on the counter. It seems to set her off again, and she yanks her arm back before throwing open the next drawer.
“Do you have any anesthesia?” She doesn’t even look up at you as she asks, as if it was the most common question in the world to be asked at 1:00 AM in your dinky kitchen.
“What?” That was not what you were expecting.
“I said, do you have any anesthesia?” She looks up at you now, her jaw clenched. But she’s on the verge of tears, something that she’s obviously trying to hide. But things like that don’t escape your notice, not when it comes to Amanda.
“No, of course not. Amanda, what the hell is going on?”
“If you’re not going to help me, then shut the fuck up and go away.”
All you can think is that you need to diffuse the situation, and try to keep her with you and not out in the world doing who-knows-what.
“Okay, but you’re in my apartment. I don’t just have medical supplies hidden away in my kitchen.”
“God! Are you always this annoying?”
Ouch.
“I just wanted to help.” You say, stung by her harsh words.
“Well, you’re doing a shit job of it.” The slam of the drawer makes you jump, unnaturally loud in the quiet night. But you barely even hear it, her words echoing in your mind. She snatches the few supplies she had been able to find- mainly gauze- and sweeps out of the room and apartment without even a second glance back at you, leaving you confused and hurt. But more than that, you were scared for her and worried about whatever she had gotten herself into.
___
You stared at the tiny cubby that had been Amanda’s bed. The place smelled awful, and it broke your heart to think of her spending her time here when she could have been with you.
The investigators had taken everything that was of any legal worth, leaving behind what they deemed to be useless. But you saw its real worth- drawings and notes, her blankets and clothes. It was all her, the only sign that she had been a living human being.
You’ve replayed your last conversation countless times since it happened, wondering if there was something-anything- you could’ve said to get her to stay. But you knew that her devotion to you was second to her devotion to John- to Jigsaw.
It hurts even more when you think about what he did to her, and how she had somehow convinced herself that it was good and right. You’d never have the opportunity to tell her that she didn’t need a near death experience to learn to appreciate life, what she had needed was rehab and someone who cared about her. Someone who actually cared about her, as she was. Who wanted to help her without giving her more trauma on top of what she had already been through.
Shuffling around the gutted space, ignoring the suspicious stains on the floor and the amount of tools left behind, the razor wires and gears and shards of glass, you think once more on the conversation in your kitchen. If you had known that that would be the last time you spoke to her, that that was her last day on Earth, would you have tried harder to get her to stay? You haven’t forgotten her venomous words or the look in her eyes when she left your apartment, but your newfound understanding of her life brought clarity to the day.
You’d be questioned, more so than you already had been. The Jigsaw murders had shaken your city, and the idea that a survivor of Jigsaw became his closest accomplice would only further rattle it. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care about that, or the fact that you might somehow be implicated due to your association with Amanda.
All you could bring yourself to do was grab one of her blankets and some of the papers off her wall and head home, your mind silent.
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imaginewarehouse · 4 years
Text
Marcus White x Jonah’sSister!Reader || Oneshot
Tumblr media
Plot: 
You find out that you are pregnant... with Marcus' miracle baby.
Warnings: Pregnancy, panic attack
🔆  🔆  🔆
Carefully, I pick out one of the pregnancy tests from the shelf. Then grab another... 2 more... and another. Just to be sure.
As I go up to the pharmacy desk, I thank god that Tate isn't working here anymore; I never would've gotten away with this. He would've snitched to Jonah or something, for his own sociopathic enjoyment. Instead, the new guy thankfully rings up and bags my items casually, not really caring what he flings into the white plastic bag- then hands it to me with a soulless customer service smile. If I had to describe it, I'd say its if the man had been working here for years before finally letting the job kill him on the inside- just in time for the wind to change and stick his face like that. Honestly, I never see the guy without this smile. Not even in the breakroom. Its unnerving.
Still, I take the bag and smile back even though I know he for sure doesn't really mean it and turn around so I can walk (The long way around the store, so I don't pass the doors to the warehouse) towards the employee bathrooms... but stop short, jolting into panic mode immediately. Freeze, freeze, freeze!
There's Isaac, standing as tall as a bear in my path behind the aisles, with a scanner in his hand and a surprised look on his face. Or at least as surprised as he would ever convey.
Clearly, though, he saw the tests. And I'm screwed. He is absolutely the well, second last person I wanted to catch me doing this; Buying these.
A nervous smile flickers onto my face and I walk the short ways over to him, hugging the bag to my front. He's still just staring; Mouth half open and eyes a little less dead, then usual. "Oh, hey Isaac! How's is going? You got sent to pharmacy today? That s-sucks... " Honestly I didn't think he was allowed to be assigned pharmacy...
Completely by-passing the option to forget what he just saw and exchange polite chit-chat with me, he instead closes his mouth and his eyes, shakes his head and then opens his eyes again. Then inhales. "Are those what I think those are?"
"Wh-what?"
"Pregnancy tes-"
Shit- Giving him a desperate expression, revealing my true feelings today - being complete and utter panic, - I cut him off. "SHHH! Isaac! No- uh. Yes. Um... Would you believe these aren't for me?"
"Mmm... " His face twists slightly into one of thought, tightening his lips together and sizing me up. "No, I don't think so."
"Well!- " I'm totally ready to make up an excuse... but peter out as soon I try. I could do it. I could string together some kind of half-believable bullshit like 'They're for Amy', but he would still go and tell Marcus and he would find me and... I would still have to have the conversation earlier then I want to. So instead I drop the façade, and my shoulders, and show just how tired I am. "I want to find out myself before breaking the news to Marcus. Okay? He might be unhappy about the idea and then we do the test and it turns out I'm not pregnant and then I just stressed us both out, for no reason! And, on the other hand, what if he wants it and it turns out I'm wrong about this? Please, Isaac, just don't tell him yet. Please, please." I feel like no matter how many pleases I use they may still not change anything. But I'm desperate.
He stands still for a few minutes... so long in fact I think he may be in shock himself, or having some kind of drug induced anxiety attack, and am about to wave my hand up in his face or say his name again, when he finally breathes a little more obviously and I relax back down to earth. "... Well, lets go find out then, right?"
"What- You- you want to come?" Something in me relaxes at the thought- I don't really want to do this alone. I want someone there, like in the movies, to hold the box and just read me the instructions. But I imagined it would be someone I'm actually close friends with, who can hold my hand and wouldn't care that it recently touched a pee-stick. I did not expect that person to be Isaac - Isaac, who likes to watch homeless people kill each other with shopping trollies and sticks and trash can shields like in a horrible, pitiful, modern-day coliseum, - in a million years.
But he nods.
"Yeah, sure." He puts his scanner on the shelf, and we set off the way I was going. He seems to silently understand why we have to go the long way around- to avoid passing the doors to the warehouse. Or he just doesn't care. Either way, I'm thankful he doesn't try to re-rout my course. Or even mention it. "Good excuse to slack off work... besides I should probably get out of this section, anyway. Hey, it is Marcus- right?"
I sigh- I suppose the companionable silence was too much to ask for. "Yes Isaac. If its a thing, in the first place."
"Yeah, right."
___TIME SKIP___
"You're having a miracle baby, you know? He's not supposed to be able to do that- isn't that kinda... good?"
I only whimper in response from |my new home| the cubicle I've been taking the tests in, holding my head. How am I going to do this? I have college, I have this job, I have my studio apartment to continue paying rent for! Marcus and I don't even... there isn't even... we haven't labelled it yet, and... Oh god, I'm shaking.
Isaac heaves a sigh outside, his chair creaking as he shifts. "Well, that's... three positives, so far." Isaac's memorable, slow drawl seeps through the cracks in my cubicle and takes away my thoughts for a moment. And my breath.
3 positives.
3 positives.
Not one, not two... three.
... Then he goes on, a whiny tone in his voice. "Do we really need to do another one?"
I breathe in deep. I don't know what else to do. The next logical step would be telling Marcus or Jonah, but I'm ready for neither of those. So procrastination through pregnancy test, it has to be. "Uh, yes. We do. Um... can you, please?- "
"Ughhh. Yeah, yeah. I'll get you more water. Stay here." Then Isaac, who has surprisingly been very helpful, even getting me tape so I can stick the finished tests up to the door in front of me so that I can compare them easier, disappears out of the women's bathroom, leaving me with my thoughts.
I peak back up at the tests, feeling panic fill up my chest cavity like its anxiety gas and my rib cage is the gas chamber- and my heart's the poor organ at deaths row. I'm... pregnant.
Oh my god. I'm pregnant. There is a human being growing inside me, right now. A human being who will require time that I definitely don't have, money that its parents certainly could not scavenge if we scavenged for used soda cans like Myrtle and sold them in our spare time, effort that I'm terrified might not even be in me at this point... A baby that needs some semblance of a comfortable, stable home, which I do not have for it.
I'm just burrowing my face into my arms and knees atop the toilet seat when the bathroom door opens again. Looking up, I immediately ask for Isaac- because that was really freaken quick, for him.
And get a familiar, confused sounding voice call back "... No, its Amy... Sorry, I just need to pee. Are you going to be long?".
"Oh!" Oops. Immediately, head going empty with panic, I unlock the door and and jump out to let her in. "No! I just finished. Um- go ahead. I'll just wash- wash my hands."
Now seeing each other, I see Amy's forehead crease and her eyebrows furrow in confusion and concern at my pink cheeked/pale faced appearance and the panicky way I'm talking. She reaches out toward me. "... Y/N, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine!" I laugh, the most nervous sounding laugh ever. "Don't worry."
Amy's nose screws up. "... why were you waiting for Isaac?"
"We-we're just having an affair."
... what??
Her eyebrows furrow even deeper. "Okay... I'm just gonna go... pee... now... " She says slowly, gradually disappearing into the cubicle; Not quite sure what to say back to that.
I sigh in relief when her eyes aren't on me anymore and the door locks, thinking flushing some water onto my face might calm me down, when a loud GASP comes from Amy and I i m m e d i a t e l y remember the tests stuck to the wall. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!!
Amy comes right out of there, looking at me with completely new eyes now- understanding truly why I'm pale, I'm sure, and definitely why I was acting the way I was. "Y/N! You're... pregnant??!" I open my mouth to respond. Maybe say 'yes' seeing as that's the truth and the only proper answer, but I choke on my words and instead say, "Isaacs getting more water so I can take another test."
"I think 3 is a pretty conclusive number!"
"I-" She is not wrong, but I don't want to do anything else but take another easy test, and get defensive instead. "I bought four, I'm doing four!"
"Wh- Is Isaac the father!?"
"God, no." Isaac and I both spit back in offense.
I whip my head around when i realise he wasn't supposed to be there yet at all, and- there he is in the doorway.
... Jonah right behind him looking sicker then me. My jaw drops. "You brought Jonah??!"
"Uh, no, I was just waiting outside for, um," He gestures to Amy and my stomach drops. So he heard the whole thing. Could this get any worse??! Well I mean of course it could, Marcus could be here. Stupid question. Don't ask questions like that; It always summons the worst, in movies. "You're pregnant!? Who- you know what, unimportant right now. Do you wanna sit down??"
I shake my head, taking a deep breath and holding my hand out to Isaac. "No, I'm fine. I have a test to do. Water, Isaac?"
"Here." He hands me the bottle, and I go to disappear back into the cubicle before jumping back away again, remembering that Amy still needs to go and gesturing for her to go, ridiculously enough. She shakes her head and gestures back, like I'm crazy, to take it instead.
I do so and lock myself in, starting to chug the whole bottle.
A blessed silent moment passes... before Jonah speaks. "Is the 4th test really necessary?- "
"For the love of god- Let me take the fourth goddamn test for fucks sake!"
___TIME SKIP___
"... so what is it?" Amy asks 10 minutes later, breaking the deafening silence, as I sit back down on the toilet seat and hold my face in my hands again.
"... Positive... "
Isaac sighs. "Who would have guessed, really?"
No one tells him to shut up. He's right. But also no one agrees, because I'm a fucking 23 year old pregnant girl and I will kill them.
"So... what now?" Amy asks, speaking to the room, but expecting me to answer.
"Well, I'd like less people to be here, honestly." I pipe up, removing my hands from my mouth to speak clearer.
"Done. Isaac, Jonah, get out."
"What? I was here before you... lady." Isaac exclaims, offended, but a moment later I hear the door close, anyway. I assume it had something to do with Amy's signature resting bitch face- cranked up to eleven. "We'll just wait out here, then! Yell if you need us."
"Yep... " Amy responds to him, sounding exhausted and I can totally imagine her rolling her eyes right now. She takes a deep breath, and sighs it out. I hear her rest carefully down into the chair Isaac vacated. For a moment she thankfully says nothing, and I do wonder whether I should... but I don't know what to so say. So I just stay hidden in the cubicle, silent until Amy takes another deep breath and asks the question. "Who is it?"
I take a deep breath, knowing that once I say it I cant take it back, while on the other hand... its done, anyway. He's already the father and I cant change that (Would I if I could, though?) but telling Amy may either make or break my confidence in having him as the dad of my kid. Not that I have a choice... I just know that Amy's going to be worried about it and I don't know if I can handle the criticism right this moment.
Finally I spit it out though. Marcus.
...
"Oh- wow."
Uncomfortable, I shift on the closed toilet seat. "Yeah."
Her voice gets higher, clearly fake and trying to sound like this is better then she really feels it is. My heart plummets into my stomach like a terrible roller coaster. "Well, that's... " She pauses, searching for a safe word to use, assumedly. "Great!"
"... 'great?" For some reason that word, and Amy's tone... hits something wrong, in me. Panic flickers deep in my chest and my stare on the wall gets colder, harder. "... you think this is 'great'? Really? You? No, you don't. Do you hear yourself? 'Great'. Puh! This is Marcus. 'Been to jail' Marcus. 'Ex Con' Marcus. 'Creator and CEO of BOOB CHEESE', Marcus. Marcus who shits in the shower and thinks breastfeeding is akin to whipping your dick out in public, Marcus who has a tattoo of his mother on his back for Valentines day- "
Okay so maybe I'm just picking on him because I'm inadequate, because I don't have the time for a baby, because if I'm trusted with this perfect thing then I will ruin it... I'll pick work, instead of love, and they'll grow up with less of it then they should have and I'll be to blame...
But I don't want to address that yet. I cant.
"Y/N."
"Neither of us even have the money for this." I'm panicking again. "He lives with his mother! And- what if he gets mad... " I suddenly get worried, my eyes go round and I cover my mouth. "I really like him Amy. I cant have him mad at me. Not for this. Not him. Please don't let him hate m- "
"Y/N! Calm the fuck down, okay, right now. Don't speak. Just... take some deep breathes okay? First of all, Marcus is not going to be 'mad' at you. He's sure as hell is not going to hate you. You're spiralling, just take some long breaths." Amy makes it sound like a ridiculous idea with her tone, that he might be mad or he might hate me. I do as she says as she talks; take deeeeeep breaths. Slowly, I start to clam down. "He might be shocked, yeah, but he's- he's not like that. He's an idiot, not a total asshole. Take it from me, I know what I'm talking about here. I promise you. Whether he'll be good at being a parent, is... debatable." Everything she says makes sense. And she would know- you've met Adam. "But he'll be there, at the very least.
And... and you'll be a great mum, anyway."
I feel my heartbeat start to slow down again as I breath. I close my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest and rest back against the wall, carefully.
I really hope she's right on that second part.
"... thank you."
___OUTSIDE THE BATHROOM___
Jonah rubs his neck in nervousness at his sister in the bathroom dealing with something like this, pacing around the small hallway area before turning to Isaac. He raises his dark eyebrows. "So, do you know... wh-who?? I mean... the guy, that- I mean, does he work here, or... ???"
"Its Marcus." Isaac pulls out a bag of trail mix from his vest pocket and starts picking through, standing by the bathroom calmly. The brother to whom he just broke such detrimental news - that his sister, has Marcus White of BOOB CHEESEs baby inside her, - widens his eyes until they're more like dinner plates. "Yeah, they've been talking for a while, man. You didn't know?"
"I- I just thought she wasn't interested in... guys... " All her time must be busy with balancing both school and work, plus her friends... how can she possible have had time to... But on the other hand, he realises that its a bit naïve to think that his younger sister still isn't interested in 'boys'. Part of it might have been wishful thinking.
Isaac barks out a laugh. Its a stale, dry sound that makes Jonah really uncomfortable. "She also went out with Tate. Had a bit of a thing for Sayid for a while, too... "
"What!?- "
"Jonah!" At Amy's exit from the bathroom, he calms down immediately and straightens up. She raises her brows at him. She nods into the bathroom. "She wants you."
Yep- it takes him about 2 seconds to fly into the bathroom... to find his sister still hidden in the cubicle. He sighs, pressing his hand against the door. "Y/N? Amy said you wanted me. Do you want me to get you something to eat? Its just, I'm the only one who knows your snack preferences... and maybe we shouldn't eat in here, cuz its kinda gross... but if you want to, that's cool too!"
She doesn't respond for a minute, silent apart from the careful peeling of tape from the cubicle door.
Then the peeling sounds stop. A moment later her voice, sounding small and tentative as if just saying this would open Pandora's box, slips out. "... how're mum and dad gonna react?"
Its a rhetorical question. They both know it'll be bad - and they'll like Marcus even less, - , but its said so he knows what she's worried about. He sighs and leans back on the door. "Well very, very badly. But that doesn't matter right now. I'll take care of them."
"How valiant." Her voice is still small, quiet. But she sounds less scared; She always believes her big brother. Even when she knows logically that he cant protect her from them. Not their parents.
"Well, I try."
"... hm."
___TIME SKIP, BACK OUTSIDE OF THE BATHROOM___
"She is not leaving that bathroom," Isaac shakes his head. Its been an hour, and they've all been in there with her a couple times but she has not left the cubicle. Not even peaked her head out. She hasn't even e a t e n anything while she's been in there. Its starting to worry them. "Maybe we should go get Marcus."
Immediately Jonah looks up from his phone - having been reading up on pregnancy. What is going to start happening to his sister, now?? - and shakes his head, firmly. "No, she'll tell him when she feels comfortable with it. We aren't doing that."
"Yeah, it isn't up to us." Amy agrees, while still looking like on a deep, unsympathetic level that is tired of standing here... she definitely wants to drag Marcus here. But she also knows that Jonah is, unfortunately, a n n o y i n g l y, right.
Isaac heaves a deep, frustrated huff and gets comfortable on the floor.
___TIME SKIP: 3 HOURS LATER___
Finally, Jonah breathes in a deep, exhausted breath and puts his phone away. That's enough of that. He's sufficiently disgusted. He looks down the hallway, out to the store. Then to Amy playing solitaire on her phone and Isaac drawing slowly on the ground. "... Well, I mean, it's Marcus's baby too, right? He should know... right?"
"Mhm,"
"Yep, that's right."
"And... besides, Y/N might need him, right? Maybe he could get her out."
"You make some good points."
"I just wish they weren't points we already mentioned." Amy looks up from her phone and turns it off, flashing an sarcastic, displeased kind of smile. "Earlier."
"Yeah well... " He rolls his shoulders, looking away from Amy's piercing gaze- god, her face is like a loaded gun with no safety. And he's totally into it. He coughs, then whispers. "So, who wants to go get him??"
"Not it."
"I would, but ah... nah. I'm down for the count, down here."
"So... me."
Amy nods, making a 'shoo'-ing gesture with her hand. "Yep, you, Jiminy Cricket. You made us stay here for hours- you go get Marcus."
Looking to Isaac for help, Jonah is just met with the deadest eye's he has ever come upon, so he eventually sighs deeply, wiping sweaty hands on his jeans. "Fff-fine. Wait here."
___IN THE WAREHOUSE___
"Uh, hello? Hi- have you seen Marcus anywhere? Wh- No? Well if you see him can you tell him I'm looking for him? Its about Y/N."
The warehouse worker with the nametag reading 'Nigel' that Jonah's never spoken to before in his life and who prior to his words, had the new deadest eyes that Jonah has ever seen, suddenly beams- a twinkle of evil mischief in his eyes. "Oooooh, cats outta the bag, huh?"
Jonah blinks. "What?"
"You found out about Marcus and your sister, and now you're gonna beat him up? I was waiting for this moment." Nigel clarifies, actively looking around the room for Marcus now as Jonah rushes to explain that no, that is not what he's here for. Please don't say that so loudly- "HEY RICO! You seen Marcus around?? Y/N's brother's here to deliver an ass beating." Half a second passes while Jonah's ears ring from Nigel's screeching before something new apparently occurs to the warehouse worker as his eyes widen and he turns again to who must be Rico. "And you owe me 20 bucks!! Told ya he'd come!"
How often is Y/N in this place? Just seems weird, these guy's saying her name so casually... Jonah's forehead crinkles in thought as Rico rolls his eyes and groans, walking off to assumedly find Marcus. I'm learning a lot about my sister, today... Not sure how I feel about it...
Jesus Christ, has she eaten the cheese, too??!
Jonah doesn't get a moment to panic about that particular bit of nightmare material before he realises Nigel is still standing, awkwardly now, arms straight at his sides and eyebrows raised expectantly, right by him. Watching him, instead of returning to his job. Jonah raises his own eyebrows back; Shrugging. Like, what?? What do you want?
Nigel just just shrugs and shakes his head back passive aggressively, crossing his arms. Like, he doesn't know. Fine, we'll just stand in silence, then...
"Jonah! What's up, buddy? Visiting me in the warehouse- this is so nice! Want me to take my break now, cuz we totally can. Just let me wrap one last thing up and then we'll be back in my car, together. Listening to tunes; Ya know. Guy buddy stuff." T h a n k f u l l y, Marcus seems to rush from wherever he was in the depths of shelf-land when Rico apparently found him and cuts off the awkward stand off between the two men, dropping a hand on Jonah's shoulder and beaming. "What up, man?"
Quick to turn away from Nigel and get to what his mission really is at the moment, Jonah graciously ignores the touchy greeting... despite the awkwardness on his end and the fact that Nigel is still there, watching.  "Actually, I wanted to talk about, uh, Y/N."
Marcus' eyes immediately widen and his eyebrows raise, taking his hand off Jonah in favour of ringing his hands and stepping back nervously himself. "Oh, man... you found out, didn't you? Did she tell you? Cuz like, I know the bro code says its not cool to bone your friend's sister but- "
"Ah, ah, ah!" No, no, no, Jonah does not want to hear those words. No. "No, um. That's fine, whatever. Y/N's sexuality is her own. But- "
"Its a ruse, Marcus. He's here to kick your ass." Nigel insists, still very much there despite everything about this situation having nothing to do with him and instead just freaks Marcus out more as the warehouse head's eyes go even wider and he takes another step back- raising his hands in surrender.
"No, no! Nigel!- That's... no. I'm not here to kick anyone's ass! The asses here are all perfectly safe, I promise. Okay?" When Nigel's expression doesn't change a lick, Jonah gives up and just gestures off in a random direction. "Nigel, could you give us a minute, here?"
"What, so you can jump my boy here alone?"
"Alone?? Who's alone?" Jonah is getting increasingly irritated. "We're literally surrounded by other warehouse workers!! Ones who are actually doing their jobs, by the way. Maybe you should- "
Marcus finally intercepts and pats Nigel's shoulder, getting his attention from looking confrontationally at Jonah and smiles relatively softly at him. "Its okay, Nigel. If Jonah wants to kick me in my junk once- he's kinda entitled to it. Bro code and everything. Why don't you get back to work? I got this. Thanks, though." Nigel leaves, with that, but certainly not without giving Jonah one last greasy look over his shoulder and an 'Okay, Marcus. But call me, if... you know... '. Along with an extra evil squinty look at Jonah. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks bud. I know I can count on you." When Nigel is finally out of the picture, Jonah feels fatigued and just wants to get back to Y/N. At least its just him and Marcus now, though, so they should be doing that very soon. "So! What'd you want? If you really do wanna hurt me, then, can we go outside? By my car ideally, so I can drive the emergency room right after? Or you, cuz I mean... you're small, man. And I'll have to defend myself. Even if its fair. Its instinct, you know? You get it."
"I'm not gonna hurt you?? Why does everyone think- " What is wrong with people here? Do I give off a confrontational aura right now, or something??? "Ugh, whatever. Y/N needs you- she's been in the bathroom for 4 hours. We did try to get her out ourselves, but our attempts have been... l-lacklustre." Lacklustre? Okay, even he is surprised to hear that one come out of him.
"She needs... me? Like, she said that?" All of a sudden Marcus' expression changes. Worry wells in his eyes and his forehead creases, and he glances at the door out to the floor before returning to Jonah, looking restless now as his body fights with him to go, immediately. "Oh, what's wrong with her? Is she sick??"
"Uhh... in a manner of speaking... Look, I just think she needs to see you right now."
That makes the taller man move towards the door, clipboard dropped on a box on his way. "Of course; Right away man. Come on, lets go see her. So you really don't know what's wrong?? Should we pick up some root beer on the way?" Jonah follows behind, hand on his chin as he answers Marcus' questions. Wow... He did not expect such a response from him... He... kinda respects it, in a way. Its a pleasant surprise, at least.
___BACK TO YOU AND YOUR POV. God I hate third person. Its so hard, I want to cry___
"Y/N? You in here??" As soon as that voice registers in my mind, my heart beat skips in the worst way and I almost start to full on panic all over again, but thankfully instead just freeze and only widen my eyes. What the hell? The door to the employee bathroom closes as Marcus shuts himself in and you watch his boots appear under the door to your stall. "What's going on? Jonah couldn't tell me what's wrong with you," Jonah. I glare at the stall door. I'm going to kill him. "But I brought you some root beer for you- a total cure all. I promise. And some (Enter your favourite snack) cuz I know you like them. Here," He stretches up and holds the items over the stall door, and, feeling genuinely touched that Marcus was sweet enough to bring these, I get up off the toilet seat and accept them from him.
"Thank you, that's really nice. I'm... not sure, that the root beer will fix this, though." I speak carefully, sitting down and holding the items in my lap close to my stomach.  
"Course it will! I poured some in Mateo's ear once when he had an infection... I think it worked?"
Probably not. "This is a lot bigger then an ear infection... Kinda permanent, too?"
"Oh god, is it cancer?" He pauses for a moment but before I can put that particular worry at rest... or remind him that cancer is not always permanent... he makes it worse, and I fight not to facepalm. "The plague??! Its still a thing, you know. Jesus, its not that is it? Please tell me its not that! That would be the worst!" I mean... yeah, it would.
"Oh- no no! No, nothing like that!! I'm just pregnant!"
... wait.
Immediately I want to take back my words and say them differently- because is that really the way I just broke it to him?? Oh my god. My hand slaps over my mouth- then pulls back an inch to speak again, but is definitely on guard to slap again and prohibit anymore stupid to come out. "I mean! ... N-no big deal?" My voice gets tiny. "At least its not the plague, right?" I'm just making this worse, so I cover my mouth again.
Marcus does not respond, and I can imagine his face crystal clear, without having to look. He would have his mouth hanging open like a cartoon character, his shoulders have dropped, eyes are blank, and he's pale as hell. Oh god... oh god oh go oh god... I cover my whole face now and just try to breath evenly, and not talk anymore. I was right! He's not going to even like me anymore, this is going to ruin how he looks at me- I cant have Marcus look at me coldly. I really cant.
Finally, a few minutes later the door to the bathroom creaks open again and I know it's not Marcus escaping because I can still see his boots under the door and they haven't shifted in a while. Amy's voice rings out, too loudly in the stock silent bathroom. "... everything okay in here? We haven't heard anything in a while- Marcus?"
He doesn't respond.
I hear Amy walk in now, her heels click-click-clicking on the tiled floor. "Marcus? Marcus, are you okay?" She snaps her fingers, assumedly near his unresponsive face. I slip my fingers down to just cover my mouth, straining my ears to hear any movement from him. "Wake up!" Another snap. "Marcus wake up."
All of a sudden I hear shifting and his boots shift slightly and I squeeze my eyes slowly shut- now he speaks. Now's the part where he speaks. Now's the worst part! He either leaves, or stays. "Uhh... I'm awake, okay?"
...
Amy and I are both startled by the seriousness in Marcus' voice- Amy evidently in the way she responds, backing out of the room. "... Okay! Um, well talk. To Y/N. I'm... just gonna... wait outside... "
Marcus just grunts in response, turning back to my stall door. Then he wraps his knuckles against the surface and I flinch- unsure whether to unlock it and be a grown up or stay hidden away like I really, really want to. Its not like I'm afraid he'll hurt me or anything, not at all! Its just... I don't like to disappoint people and I'm terrified at seeing his face. "Y/N? Can you come out, now?"
"Ummm... no... " I wince, keeping my eyes closed to the world. As if that'll hide me from it.
"No???" He asks, bewildered.
"No... "
Marcus' voice isn't at all as cold-serious as it was when he spoke to Amy, but still. There is still definitely an unfamiliar focused quality about it, and its making me nervous. "What? Come on. What do you think's gonna happen? I'll yell at you? Come on, that's not gonna happen; Come out. "
"I'd really rather stay in here... " I fire back.
"Don't be scared of me." He really does sound trustworthy... but that fear, man; She's one unrelenting bitch.
My voice goes high pitched when I answer, too vehement to be the truth. "I-I'm not! Silly! Why would I be scared of you??" My eyes open up again and I just wince. Such a liar.
"Aghh... " I just listen to him shifting around out there looking for something for a bit, or thinking of what to say next, while I myself sit and think comfortable that there is nothing that will make this worse, seeing as I'm safe and sound in this toilet stall... before his boots disappear from my vision under the door and I hear him disappear out of the bathroom then return again almost immediately, going into the stall beside me and putting something down on the toilet seat in there.
Oh my god- he wouldn't dare! He would not-
Then all of a sudden he's climbing over the wall and I have to jump off the toilet seat and press closely to the stall door, root beer and snack still hugged in my arms like teddy bears. Marcus eases himself over the wall and onto the toilet seat before my eyes, then jumps off it to the tiles again in front of me, while I gape wide at him. "I- what- Marcus!"
"Well you weren't coming out! It was my only option!" He exclaims, and now that I see him I do relax a bit. There's no coldness in his face now, and there is certainly no unfamiliar, unfriendly seriousness, either, seeing as the man just climbed into a toilet stall to get to me. Very Marcus-y. I slowly let out a relieved breath, which is still also a 'calm down' breath as the pressure is certainly still on. I can see him, but he can also see me.
Eager to avoid the issue at hand, I snap. "You might've kicked me!"
"No, I wouldn't have." He makes a defensive 'pshhh' sound immaturely, waving me off with a hand before resting them both on his hips and looking right at me. I give him my own dubious look right back- What makes him so sure??? He rolls his eyes. "Whatever, anyway." Suddenly, a beautiful big smile spreads across his face; the kind that still makes me a little bit weak and almost forces me to smile back. Even now, in this situation. "This is great."
And then I'm speechless, mouth closed and eyebrows furrowed together. ... Great? What? Quickly he moves to clarify, before grinning that goofy grin of his. "The pregnancy! Man, I've seen enough girlfriends get pregnant over the years... its nice to see one having my baby." A moment passes and my system is just registering this reaction - not even relieved, yet. Just in shock and a little less anxiety, - before he drops his smile, raises an eyebrow, and adds: "It is mine, right?"
Still shocked, I answer as if the question was more on the lines of 'That was my cupcake that I just ate, right?'. Meaning, probably too casually. "Oh- oh, yeah! Abs- absolutely." He doesn't seem to mind.
He beams again. "Great! We'll be awesome parents- that is assuming you wanna keep the baby, right?"
"Uh... " All I want to say is yes, right now. Even as the complications of raising a baby right now linger in the forefront of my mind. But at the same time I'm looking at Marcus and I just want to. I want to have the baby, and I want to do it with him... in the moment, he's the absolute perfect person to do it with. I choke out, "Yeah."
He fist pumps the air at that response, and finally the relief starts to settle in my stomach and my heart... a smile grows on my own face. My eyes even get a little watery with the powerful relief. "YES! That's right, I'm gonna be a Dad. Whoo! We gotta tell everyone. But how, do you think? Should we get a cake or something that says it in icing?? Or should we just go out there and announce it over the speakers? Or should we just not tell anyone? Cuz on the one hand, I wanna tell everyone- but on the other... I don't really want Carol to know you're pregnant. That could be bad."
"Um... " I don't even know what to say. I just want to hug him, so I do. I step forward and wrap my arms around his middle, burying my face in his coveralls and the body I've become so familiar with over the past months that smells so uniquely - and not always so pleasantly, but definitely comforting,  - like Marcus and squeeze tight, closing my eyes. He smells like that 'new furniture' smell that's really just 'warehouse', and an unfamiliar home, and a little bit of B.O.
Thank god.
Amy was right. Of course she was. Even when I was stressing, I knew the image I had of Marcus getting mad about this didn't feel quite right, but... you have to prepare yourself for the worst, you know? I'm just so glad he's the way he is though, as he wraps his arms around my shoulders in return and bends his neck to press his cheek to my head. "I'm really happy about this. And I know we haven't figure anything out. With us, with money, with anything actually, but... we will, okay? I'll do my best, I promise."
"... Thank fuck." I chuckle, although its muffled and get a similar sound from him in return. "I'm really happy, too." He rubs my back in that rough, comforting way that guys do and I might as well melt; He's too wonderful. I bite my bottom lip, thinking my next move through before taking a deep breath and deciding to take the plunge and ask. "... hey... um... b-boyfriend?"
Marcus immediately pulls me back and holds me at arms length, a crazy-big grin splitting his face. "Oh, yes! This day just keeps getting better and better; Come on, we definitely have to tell everyone this, lets go." Excitedly, he slips past me and unlocks the stall door finally, but pauses and turns back to me before its pushed open at all. I tilt my head in curiosity- what's up? "Unless... congrats sex?"
...
Oh my god- a snort, transforming into a laugh slips out of me before I can stop it. I pull him closer by the front of his coveralls, grinning at both the idea and how silly he is and gently tug him down closer to my level. I close my lips and knit my eyebrows together understandingly. "... How about you come over after work? First we should probably deal with the others? You know, the ones hanging outside right now?"
"Oh, yeah, probably. Oh man- I'll be basically related to Jonah now!" Oh- well- not exactly but... okay fine. If it makes the guy happy. "Ha ha, look forward to seeing this face every Christmas, bro." Oh boy.
I just grin at that - Goodluck Jonah, - before leaning up the rest of the way and pressing a careful kiss to Marcus' lips which he immediately returns with enthusiasm, hands abandoning the stall lock and collecting my waist instead.
This is going to be okay.
It will work out. I hope.
BONUS:
Later in the breakroom while Marcus is busy with talking to some of the other Cloud 9 employees about the news, Jonah takes the seat next to me and I raise my eyebrows at him- he's obviously dying to say something. I know my brother at least that much. He sighs.
"So... you... haven't eaten the cheese, right? I mean, I have but I'm hoping you haven't been put through such, uh, cruel and unusual torture... "
"Oh, no. Absolutely not. I managed to convince him it was cannibalism for women." I grin, returning immediately to my Cloud 9 Caesar salad as Jonah sighs long and hard in relief, relaxing back into his chair.
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khloros · 3 years
Text
A resident from another planet who seems to have willfully isolated themself from society finds a strange creature that shines in the sun, doesn’t eat, and seems to have the main focus of collecting rocks. Fortunately, save for the not eating part, the two seem fairly similar and form an unlikely family.
(Aka, I wrote a found-family thing for an alien and a rover. I usually don’t write much since it’s kinda a challenge for me, and this is my first time actually finishing something! It was fun and I wanna write more in the future, and I look forward to establishing my own style!)
_____
Scientists have recovered what seems to be a garden journal from the unknown planet that our rover, Trailblazer, crash landed on over twenty years ago. Photos of this journal have only just now reached Earth, and are being rapidly translated. The first entry is seen below.
_____ 
The crops are failing. The cold is settling in.
I’ve watched their leaves turn color, shift from rich greens to the frail purples and oranges of our moons in mid-summer. Some are so thin that they’ve become translucent and the sun sparkles through them like it does atop a pond. The scene is beautiful and terrible. I fear for this upcoming harvest. I don’t want to ask for help, not from anyone who knows me.
The only crop that has been doing well are the kaultchish. Their leaves are hearty and will be good roasted or eaten raw. The less successful leaves may be tossed in soups and stews, and preserved for the cold seasons. Like their foliage, the kaultchish berries hang heavy in their bunches. They are sweeter than they have been in any earlier years; it almost makes up for the lack of crops produced from the rest of the garden.
Now, despite the worries of the season, this is all somewhat normal news. I am reluctant to record the rest of this day, as it has been a strange one and I’m half-convinced that it was all a dream.
This morning, you see, I was checking on the berries. They were sagging close to the ground under their weight and I had been growing worried that pests would steal them. When checking for prints, however, I found the strangest ones I have ever seen. Two parallel lines indented wide into the ground, with jagged scores creating segments inside them. At the time, I could not have imagined what might create something so strange. I initially feared of something slithering, perhaps a verestial which may consume my crops with its jaws that part like clouds preparing to storm. I don’t like visitors, you see, even the small ones.
Naturally, I set a trap. The worst case scenario was that I’d string up one of my neighbors by accident, and even then, well, I wouldn’t mind never seeing them again. Loud creatures, they are. Sound carries across this flat land, the wind bringing it to my ears along with spatterings of sand. I am nearly convinced that this place hates me, neighbors and dust and all.
The trap consisted of a simple device that would sense the potential thief and spring a net over it. We used to craft them as children out of twigs and hardy grass often, this was the easy part.
The hard part came when I emerged from my home this morning to see a light flaring in the bushes. I’ve never lit any lanterns in that area and the sun had not yet raised her brows above the horizon, so naturally I was apprehensive.
And curious.
I approached the thing to find that it was a trembling creature with a seemingly bioluminescent spot on its chest. In fact, as I kneeled down to view it closer, this creature seemed almost identical to a child.
Its head and body are the correct shapes and colors, its skin is tough and reflective like ours. Its eyes seem to be the correct shape and color, though a bit bigger and protruding from the face in a strange way. Perhaps the biggest difference are its feet, which are quadrupedal rather than bipedal. They look quite similar to the wheels upon wagons, which had made me wonder whether or not this supposed creature might be a children’s toy.
It is not. It is most definitely not, unless children are more terrifying than I remember. I peeled the net away from its head and, sensing no distress from it, tugged at its foot. It immediately erupted into a series of short screams, staggered one after the other for several minutes even after I had let go. This seems to be quite the good defensive technique as the garden fell completely silent after that, not even the smallest of creatures daring to chirp.
I told it such, and added, “I should try that someday, if anyone attempts to tug on my leg.” It didn’t respond, but I feel that it was more at ease with me after I spoke.
I carried on with my garden duties, watering and trimming and weeding and hoping. A few times, I caught sight of the creature staring at the sunrise as if completely enamored. I can’t blame it, the sun has always looked beautiful to me as well. It reminds me of —
As I moved from one side of the garden to the other, I noticed the creature following me. At a distance and hesitantly at first, but my suspicions grew as I observed its behavior. After tearing a foreign grass out of the garden, I noticed the creature reaching out with its own arm to do the same. It placed the clump of grass within a fold in its skin, which I saw to be filled with shimmering rocks and half-planted flowers. This concerned me. I didn’t dare hope that this creature is sentient, this warped version of our own figures. This poor, abandoned child.
Without thinking, I dropped my gardening tools and rushed over to it, scooping the creature into my arms. It was heavier than expected, and its feet dug into my shoulder, but it didn’t send off any more shouts of alarm. Perhaps it is bold of me to assume its trust, but I have forever been outcast for my boldness.
I have taken this creature — and for now, until I know for certain that it is non-sentient, I will refer to it as a child — into my home. I have a meal being rewarmed on the hearth as I document this, and I will attempt to feed the feeble thing as soon as I can.
Addition: It doesn’t seem to like soup. I will attempt to feed it bread scorched over the fire, next.
Also, I have named it Keptie.
_____ 
Translator’s Notes.
Untranslatable words have been italicized. The definitions and potential pronunciations are listed below.
Kaultchish is just one interpretation of a plant that seems to be one of the more popular foods on the observed planet. German researcher and botanist Elias Zimmerman held a great role in learning more about this plant, and thusly it follows some Germanic grammar rules in all Earthly languages. For English, this means that the plural is not kaultchishes, but kaultchishen. Another common way of spelling that has arisen is kowltchish, which some people prefer to use under the belief that it represents the IPA better. The IPA pronunciation, to our current knowledge, is kaʊltʃɪʃ.
The verestial [vɛrɛstjiəl] seems to be a type of animal similar to our snakes, though possibly herbivorous. There is debate over whether it is a whole genus or a subset of one.
Most seem to be in agreement that Keptie is a “cuter name”, so the official name of our rover has been changed to it. However, its former name, Trailblazer, is still common in both everyday and scientific use.
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paragonrobits · 3 years
Note
What do you think about the sudden influx of openly expressed racism in the Tolkien and broader fantasy fandoms following the start of press for Amazon’s new Middle Earth show?
When i saw that there was a new trailer for something coming up in Tolkien-inspired works (that I haven't seen, since I'll admit I am SOMEWHAT pessimistic about them not really understanding Tolkien's themes and I worry a lot about them trying to make something tonally more similar to Game Of Thrones and other grimdark series because its popular, and LOTR functions interestingly as a sort of unbuilt trope directly countering all that) I had wondered what some of the fandom response to it might be.
I'm sad to hear that its apparently a wave of bigotry and racism being revealed in the fantasy and Tolkien-specific fandoms! Like, REALLY sad and disappointed. But at the same time, I'm honestly not surprised.
It's the vocal part of the same people who routinely seem to throw a fit whenever diversity, broader thought and any kind of 'hey maybe we sohuld make this a little more nuanced' shows up in fantasy in general. These are the people who just LOSE THEIR MINDS and its just.
It's really GODDAMNED ANNOYING seeing these troglodytes still in the hobby! And that's an insult to the concept of troglodytes. The morlocks didn't do anything to be associated with these reprobates.
I'd be lying, of course, if I tried to pretend the fantasy community in general hasn't had a problem with people like this for a long, LONG time. They're always present, mostly at the margins, and being the loudest voices of complaint. They also seem uniquely ill suited towards an environment like LOTR (which is actually rather interesting in a lot of ways such as positing humans being inherently flawed in a lot of ways that are ultimately self destructive in the grand scheme of themes, and a somewhat gloomy motif of 'things will gradually decline' in ways that outright oppose the power fantasy people like this obsess over).
I'm reminded of how for a while on Youtube, I kept seeing recommmends for a backwards-sounding channel that kept complaining about a player that was annoyed with orcs being portrayed as mindless beasts and didn't like killing them, and similar things during that period where you kept seeing the worst of the roleplaying hobby throwing a fit over the growth of nuance in the settings so you got things like 'orcs are not mindless beasts' and 'the humanoid beings are not universally Good people' so you got the weird experience of people being mad about there being MORE nuance, but that all says something about them. at worst this is blatant bigotry being shown through metaphor. At best they're whining about their hobby not being simplistic.
So broadly I'm really disappointed to hear about this initial response but again, I'm not surprised that its THAT stripe of fandom being loud and annoying about it.
Ironically the first i heard about this Tolkien stuff was people praising a female dwarf portrayed by a POC actress, and the thing they complained about? They missed Tolkien lore and stated that a female dwarf SHOULD have a beard! "THEY GOT SO CLOSE AND MISSED IT AT THE LAST STEP", essentially. And there's something to be said about the producers trying to be inclusive and diverse, but ultimately shying away from showing non-traditional feminity. I would say that it could also be seen as the creative types here missing what distinguishes LOTR from its imitators and those that were inspired by it (where dwarf women like this are pretty common, like Dragon Age).
I guess this means I'm curating my experience pretty well that I'm not seeing the worst of it! I think its likely that its always there, waiting for an opportunity to jump and expose the terrible opinions beneath the surface. Tragic and a sickening thing but thats why it behooves one to fight it as much as possible!
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fandomscombine · 4 years
Text
Make The First Move
George Weasley x Reader
BG: The Yule Ball is only a month away, but the boy you were hoping to ask you out still hasn’t make a move. So you decided to take matters into your own hands.
(With guess appearances of Fred and Cedric)
This is an entry for @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ ’s 1k Followers Writing Challenge
Fluff prompt #1 “Do you find it sexy when girls make the first move, or should I wait for you to do it yourself?”
Fluff prompt #6 “If you want to make a move, today would be the perfect time to go for it.”
Trope #8 Friends to lovers
WC: 2623
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y/n l/n is not a girly girl. You would categorize your fashion mentality to value comfort and functionality more than style.
Yes, during the weekends, you do tend to rock a graphic tee, jeans, soft sneakers and a outwear of choice, depending on what you’re feeling that day- be it a leather jacket, causal blazer to a denim jacket.
Hey in your defence, the Scottish Highlands where Hogwarts is located isn’t exactly the warmest place, besides students are only allowed to wear casual clothes during the weekends.
But every now and then you do wanna pop on a skirt or a dress, especially when its warm outside.
This upcoming event though…. you, like everyone else is oh so very much do want to feel like a star! To feel elegant! Luxurious!
That’s right the Yule Ball is only a month away. It is all that is in every single student’s mind ever since it was announced. Who would their date to the ball be? What outfit would they wear?
A number of students had already picked their respective dates and dresses. However, a remaining select few have not done either- Like yourself. Time is running out and the pool of available potential partners is decreasing day by day.
You didn’t mind going alone, as long as you have a great time with friends, going alone it isn’t really a big deal. But there is a small childlike wishful thinking that wants to have a fairy tale experience.
It also isn’t helpful that you had started to develop feelings for a certain redheaded twin over the summer. You swear that he too felt the dynamic changed between the two of you- who knew that 3 weeks tinkering with joke shop ideas and fixing out the burrow’s garage could be so impactful.
Though now coming to think of it, could you have just read the signs all wrong? The lingering stares, the tighter and longer hugs… Could this be signs that he planning of ways to murder you? Because if this were all romantic signs, wouldn’t he have had asked you out to the ball by now? It was no secret that you hadn’t said yes to anyone yet.
So, what’s taking so long? George Weasley is one of the most confident and popular guys on campus. Surely, he wouldn’t chicken out or get nervous to ask you.
Right??
Pushing boy trouble aside, you focus back on the dress catalogue your mum had sent you earlier today.
Flipping through the pages, 2 dresses caught you eye. One was a short tule the other had a long side leg slit.
You were in the process of bookmarking the page when you felt the catalogue being pulled out of your grasp.
‘Hey!’ You instinctively shouted to the culprit.
‘What’s this?’ George said, turning to the front cover. ‘“Madam Bella’s Evening Gowns, Autumn/Winter 1994”’
‘Give it back George!’ You tried to take it from him, but he quickly held it above his head.  
You stood on the bench in hopes to extend your reach. You could almost take hold-
‘Catch Freddie!’ Shouted George and threw it across the table.
Fred flipped to the dogeared pages. ‘Ahh..’ He was scanning through the choices you had circled. ‘Great choices indeed, my dear y/n!’
At first you weren’t sure if he was teasing you or being sincere.
That must had shown on your face as Fred continued, ‘I’m serious y/n/n!’ He placed his left hand on his heart and raise his right. ‘I swear! But you would look good in any dress anyway.’
You blushed at his compliment. ‘Thanks for the confidence boost Freddie.’
He hands back the catalogue to you, and as you took it, he whispered in your ear. ‘A little hint though,’ He shifts back a bit- now being face to face. ‘My vote is on the slit dress...’
Your brows scrunched together- was this boy seriously giving you fashion advice?
‘….I know George would like that..’ He steals a quick glance towards his twin, who has now turn bright red, both from being embarrassed and furious at him. ‘… I-I mean, it would match George’s dress robes.’
Fred sends you a final wink and bids you both goodbye.
You watch Fred exit the Great Hall, never letting him out of sight until he turns the corner. Which George to grateful for, as that had bought him time to calm his face down.
That was the one of the weirdest exchanges you’ve ever had yet, but you also couldn’t help but wonder if there was some truth to it.
George cleared his throat ‘So…y/n...Have you got a date yet?’
‘No why?’ You look over at him and you thought that you might give your hypothesis a try. Smirking hopefully, you asked ‘Are you gonna ask me?’
If you only knew what was going on inside of George’s head, the boy was panicking.
It was as if time slowed. Or it was because George’s thoughts are going a thousand miles a second.
Of course, he wanted to ask you to go with him!
But his brain was feeding him of insecurities. What if you didn’t want to go with him? What if you did say yes but only as a friend?
Plus, he didn’t want to ask you in front of all these people, thinking that you might be pressured by the crowd to agree.
No, he wanted to do it in a private, more intimate setting. Deserving of your beauty and grand place to confess his feelings.
He’d dream that in return you would say ‘Yes, I loved to go to the ball with you, George!’ and perhaps even say those 3 words he’s been dying to hear-more in the romantic nature than of friendship- and if he was lucky, maybe even share a kiss, that would be the best case scenario.
The worst-case scenario would be you rejecting him, possibly forever ruining the relationship with his best friend and having his heart broken- at least that case, nobody else would witness that.
‘Eh George?? Georgie?? Hello??’ You frantically wake a hand in front of him. ‘Earth to George Weasley!!!’
Great, when you finally had the courage to ask him to be your date-albeit indirectly- You broke him.
‘uuh.. I… I have to go...’ George looked like a deer caught in headlights
‘What?’
His eyes, dart upwards, thinking of an excuse. ‘Yes, I have to go… GO CLEAN MY SOCKS!’ Unfortunately, for him, in an uncharacteristic manner, he failed to think of a believable lie. ‘I’ll see you later!’
And with that he rushed out the Great Hall, leaving you once again gawking with a confused face at another Weasley twin.
~
You had your back against one of the rock formations near the Black lake, deciding which of the 2 dresses you would be wearing to the ball.
You were enjoying the last good sunny autumn days, taking in the sights of other students having a picnic on this beautiful Saturday. When suddenly a figure had landed right in front of you.
‘Ahhh!’ You had jumped in fright, causing you to slip a bit.
‘I got you, I got you!’ You felt arms holding you tight, preventing you from falling off the rocks.
Once you had regained your balance you check to see the perpetrator that had gave you a heart attack.
‘CEDRIC DIGGORY!!!!!!!! I TOLD YOU TO STOP DOING THAT!!’
The boy chuckled. ‘I know y/n/n, but I just couldn’t help it!’
You narrowed your eyes at him. Which made him laugh even more.
‘You know you love me.’ He gushed, bring you into a hug.
‘And that is my weakness’ Your reply being muffled by his shoulder. You Cedric were as close as brother and sister, having basically grew up together as both your families super close. Your father is best friends with his father and so are your mothers ever since their Hogwarts days. Therefore, naturally you and Cedric have a close bond too, being joined at the hip since birth-the only time part was the 3 months that you are older by.
It has been a while since you two had caught up with each other, him being busy with the Triwizard Tournament ofcourse.
‘Have you got any idea about the second task?’
‘Yeahh’ Cedric gulped.
You crocked a brow. Not buying his bullshit.
Cedric scratched the back of his neck. ‘Fine, I haven’t….’ Gazing towards the lake, he continued. ‘But I think it’s got something to do about the water.’
You take hold of his hand. ‘Hey, it’s alright. You’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out.’
‘Thanks y/n. I thought initially you wouldn’t be against me joining.’ He confessed.
‘You know I would support you no matter what. But don’t get me wrong, I’m worried for you Ced, always am. The tournament just upped it to level 1000! But I know that you have it in you to win this, to be the Triwizard Champion!’ You beamed. ‘Imagine that Ced, a Triwizard Champion in the family!’
‘It would be great, would it?’
‘Now to the matter at hand, The Yule Ball.’
‘What about it?’
‘Have you asked someone yet? You enquired.
‘Well there is this gorgeous lady that I’ve been meaning to ask…’ He hinted. ‘Though I am waiting for the right opportunity to ask her, you see everything has to be perfect!’
‘Awww, what an absolute sweetheart!’ You swooned.
Behind Cedric, you could have sworn that you saw someone in the trees. However, in your eagerness to know more of Cedric’s possible date, you brushed it off as the swaying of the branches and falling autumn leaves.
‘How about you? Has Mr. Beater asked you yet?’
You sighed. ‘Not exactly…’
Cedric leaned forward with hands on his chin, interested to hear more.
‘He asked if I had got a date yet, to which I said no. Then teased if he was gonna ask me.’ You recalled. ‘Then he froze. I guess I broke him, cause the next thing he said was that he’s got to go clean his socks.’
That had Cedric doubling over. ‘George really said that?!?!!?’ He had his arms wrapped around his stomach. ‘Clean his socks?!!??’
‘Yeah yeah yeah, laugh all you want Diggory. But you still hadn’t asked Cho out yet.’
‘Heyy! I told you I am waiting for the right moment!’
‘C’mon Ced, Sweet intentions aside. Cho has been declining offers to the ball, time is running out and I bet she is getting tired waiting for you to make a move, especially this close to the ball.’ You know how much Cedric likes Cho and hate to see him sad if and when Cho doesn’t get tired of waiting for him. ‘Sooner or later she might just say yes to some other guy, cause you’re talking so long!’
‘I’m sorry Cedric.’ You had realized that you projected your own frustrations on him. ‘I didn’t mean to go off on you like that.’
‘I know y/n, it’s alright really.’ He smiled, having come up with an idea ‘How about this, the next time you see George, YOU ask him out?’ He suggested.
‘ME?!?’
‘Yes.’ He insisted. ‘That why we would get a definite answer. And this time not more asking in an indirectly direct way. - We don’t want another system error in that head of his. Deal?’
‘Deal’
Picking up the discarded catalogue, he remarked. ‘Hmmm, I think that the long one would suit the occasion better, don’t you think? Being it a formal event and all.’
You agreed. ‘and you‘re not the first one to say that too.’ You muttered-more to yourself.
‘Huh?’
‘Nothing!’
‘So what color are you thinking? Blue or…’
‘Oh I got that all figured out! I was thinking that since the point of the Triwizard Tournament is school unity, I want the grown to be featuring my house colours.’
~
Fred had ran back to the Gryffindor dormitories as fast as he could. Glad to spot that his twin brother laying down on the bed.
As much as he enjoys teasing his siblings. He could no longer endure the obliviousness of his brother and y/n. He can no longer take the constant nonessential pining, especially when they obviously like each other.
Fred had been trying to get them together for the past month, but it seems that subtly pushing them to the right direction isn’t working. Which leaves him with no choice.
‘If you want to make a move, today would be the perfect time to go for it’ Stated Fred.
‘What?’
‘I can’t take it anymore Georgie!’ He grabs his brother by the collar. ‘I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE! I KNOW YOU LIKE Y/N AND BELIEVE ME GEOGRE WHEN I SAY THAT SHE LIKES YOU BACK OKAY.’ Fred pleads, shaking George with each word. ‘AND YOU HAVE GOT TO MAKE A MOVE TODAY! NOW! ASK HER TO THE BALL BEFORE CEDRIC DOES.’
George now dizzy, mumbled. ‘What? How?.....How do you know this?’
‘I saw them together at the lake and me being the best brother that you have decided to eavesdrop.’ Fred admitted. ‘And guess what, Cedric plans to ask a gorgeous lady- y/n- to the yule ball but is just finding the perfect opportunity.’
‘Therefore, brother dearest, it’s only a matter of time til that happens. And I your very supportive wingman urge you to freaking ask y/n out RIGHT NOW before it’s too late.’
That news that Cedric might ask y/n to the ball before he does, had put George back into his senses.
In record time, George had tidy up his clothes and fixed his hair. ‘Right.’ He turned to Fred who was looking smug leaning on the door frame. ‘How do I look?’
‘Smashing.’
‘Great, Now get out of the way you prick.’
~
George was busy thinking on how to ask y/n out to the yule ball and possibly even side in the chance to ask to go on a date with him, when he accidentally bumped into someone.
‘Wooooahh careful George!’
Damnit! he thought, out of all the people in this huge school, he just had to bump into the one person he doesn’t want to see.
‘Diggory.’ George growled.
‘You two alright?’ Said a voice beside them.
In his annoyance towards Cedric, George hadn’t noticed that you were close by. ‘Yeah, I’m good.’
‘Heyy’ Cedric interrupted. George had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. ‘I’ll see you later okay?’
Cedric kissed your forehead and whispered. ‘Good luck.’
This was is. George interpreted that sibling affection as you going out with Cedric to the ball.
Accepting defeat, he cleared his throat. ‘I guess imma go too-‘
‘Wait George!’ You held onto his arm to prevent him from leaving. ‘I wanted to ask you something.’
‘Go ahead.’ Replied George, curious onto what it is that is so important to ask him.
‘Do you find it sexy when girls make the first move, or should I wait for you to do it yourself?’
‘Hmm?’ George once again confused.
‘Gosh you are slow sometimes aren’t you.’ You chuckled. You take a step closer to him, coming up face to face. ‘George Weasley will you go to the ball with me?’
It took a second for George to believe what he was hearing. ‘YES!!’ He exclaimed then recomposed himself. ‘Yes, I would love to go to the ball with you.’
Wrapping his arms around your waist, he decided to take it one step further- cause what else has he got to lose? ‘Will you y/n l/n go on a date with me?’
You bring your arms to his neck, his him close. ‘I’d love nothing more.’ You grinned, pulling him into a long awaited kiss.
 Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1​
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Note
For the AiB headcanon thing: Arisu and Usagi are in a queerplatonic relationship. This isn’t News, it's canon. The thing is, people at the beach, including most of the executives, think that they are a full blown couple. This makes things awkward when Niragi catches Arisu and Chishiya agressively making out one day and reports back to Hatter. Hatter goes to Usagi being all "hey girly, hate to be the one to tell you this but your bf is cheating on you". Usagi has 2 possible answers for this: she either goes "Hatter, I'm a lesbian." Or, full blank faced says in a deadpan "oh noooo. How will i get over this."
(So I had to look up the particulars of queer-platonic relationships because they’re kind of new to me, which was a cool learning experience! That being said, I apologize if I got the gist of it wrong—feel free to correct me if you want! I like learning!)
(Also, this is basically PG, only very slight allusions to anything spicy, so anyone can read it!)
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
“Let’s talk about boys.”
Usagi’s heart skips—and not in a good way. Of all the trouble she could have gotten into today, tea with Hatter is perhaps one of the worst options; because it’s never just ‘tea’ or ‘drinks’ or ‘listening to The Doors’ self-titled album while we craft new locker key bracelets.’
No. He definitely has an ulterior motive.
“Specifically,” Hatter clarifies, snapping another grape from the bowl of fruit between them, “yours.”
Usagi stiffens.
“Uh,” she says, taking a nervous sip of hibiscus tea, “what do you want to know?”
“It’s not what I want to know,” Hatter says lazily, admiring his gaudy ring in the early afternoon sunlight, “but what you might like to know, my dear.”
He knows. Usagi gulps nervously, fingertips gripping the delicate porcelain of her teacup a little tighter. Hatter somehow caught wind of Arisu and Chisiya’s plan to steal the cards, and now he’s gonna get me to confirm it.
“I’m not sure I follow…” Usagi recovers, setting her teacup down on the coffee table.
Hatter smirks.
“Your Arisu is a handsome young man, isn’t he? Strong jaw, lovely eyes,the long and elegant limbs of a dancer,” Hatter muses, “why, I imagine he could get away with murder with just a pout of those kissable lips…”
“He’s, uh,” Usagi stammers, “he’s v-very beautiful. I’m, uh…I’m a lucky girl, I guess?”
“Look at how your eyes light up when you talk about him—oh, aren’t you precious,” Hatter pouts, taking up his teacup and examining its contents, “Although I worry that won’t be the case for much longer…”
He watches Usagi over the rim of his teacup as he takes a long, slow sip—he’s waiting for her to react, he’s waiting for her to shatter and tell him all about the card-stealing scheme with tears streaming down her face and a wavering voice.
He’ll have to keep waiting.
Usagi Yuzhua doesn’t break.
“Arisu is a good man,” she insists, “I can’t imagine him doing something that bad.”
“That’s the difference between you and I, I suppose. You can’t imagine and I…well, I don’t have to.”
Hatter leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His chin perched on his right fist, he regards Usagi with a questioning look.
“Your beau,” he says, “he’s…rather close with that Chisiya fellow, isn’t he? I hardly ever see one without the other these days—surely you’ve noticed it, too.”
Usagi feels her palms start to sweat. Not good, not good, not good! She must have told them a hundred times to lay low, that the walls in this place may as well have eyes and ears for all the gossip that gets spread around.
“He and Chisiya are,” Usagi says weakly, “they’re good friends—“
“Very good friends,” Hatter clarifies, putting an uncomfortable amount of emphasis on the word very, “Makes one wonder just what on earth those two have been getting up to…”
“I-I don’t,” Usagi clears her throat, “If you have something to say, I’d rather you just tell me instead of…whatever it is you’re doing right now.”
Hatter chuckles.
“I’ll admit,” he says, leaning back into a relaxed slouch, “not many people speak to me like that these days. It’s…refreshing to see a young lady so unafraid to speak her mind.”
He plucks a strawberry from the spread in front of him, examining the glistening perfection of the ripe fruit in the light. With a casual glance thrown in her direction, Hatter twists off the green stem and pops the entire strawberry into his mouth.
“I didn’t mean to barge in—truly, I didn’t,” Hatter recounts, “I was fetching some documents from the meeting room; classified information, couldn’t let just anyone pick them up, so I simply decided to go get them myself.”
Usagi nods along politely. It’s very difficult to maintain her composure when it feels like there’s an axe above her head about to come swinging down at any moment, but she must be doing a good enough job because Hatter is still regaling her with his little adventure.
“…Well, you know how it is,” He says, shooting her a cheeky little wink, “Anyways, imagine my surprise when I opened the door to see that your darling dearest and that little blonde fellow were already there. And—oh, how do I put this?—they were very much up to something.”
“What, uh,” Usagi asks, “what were they up to?”
He must have caught them with the very documents Hatter had been going to retrieve—it had a detailed set of blueprints, plus all the information they’d need to formulate their escape once the cards had been stolen.
“I hate to be the one to tell you this, darling,” Hatter says with an air of fake regret, “but I saw your boyfriend and his best friend…”
Here it comes. Usagi’s stomach flips with nervousness. There’s a few windows in this room—not many, but maybe she could break one and escape if things got rough. She’s not really wearing the right shoes for that, but she would just have to make do.
“…in flagrante delicto,” Hatter says, drawing out each syllable for dramatic effect, “and right on the table, no less.”
“Oh.”
Relief crashes over Usagi like a wave. Of course Chisiya and Arisu wouldn’t have failed their mission—they’re two of the smartest, sneakiest people Usagi’s ever met, and snatching up a few documents wouldn’t be any kind of challenge for either of them.
…But Hatter is looking at her like she’s insane, jaw slack and sunglasses pushing his hair back to reveal a pair of very concerned eyes.
“I mean, oooooooooh,” Usagi attempts to recover, doing her best to appear hurt, “that’s, that’s terrible! I’m, uh…Arisu is going to be getting a stern talking-to when I get back to our room…”
Hatter does not seem impressed.
“Nice try, sister,” he snaps, crossing his arms across his chest and regarding her with an impatient look, “but I’m not falling for whatever cute little doe-eyed excuse you’re trying to sell me. You…you knew about this, didn’t you?”
Now, Usagi isn’t usually one to speak publicly about her relationships. In a place such as the Borderlands, it could…complicate matters, particularly when it comes to being paired up for games.
But right now? With Hatter staring at her with the fire of curiosity burning deep in his pupils, Usagi has no choice but to fill him in on their situation.
Who knows—maybe this could throw him off their trail even further?
“Arisu and I,” she starts carefully, “we’re…well, we’re in a queer-platonic relationship.”
“A what, now?”
“It’s,” Usagi considers how best to explain it to the gobsmacked man in front of her, “uh, I’m a lesbian and Arisu is still figuring out his sexuality, but he definitely doesn’t identify as straight.”
“But you’re…together,” he says slowly, the cogs in his strange little mind doing their best to process this information.
“Our relationship is mostly based on emotional intimacy. He loves me, and I love him,” Usagi explains, “it may not be what some would call a ‘conventional’ relationship, but we’re happy together.”
Hatter ponders. The takes a wedge of pineapple and pops it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.
“So, the whole thing between Arisu and Chisiya,” he asks, “that’s…everybody’s cool with it?”
Usagi laughs lightly.
“Yes,” she nods, “in fact, I’m happy to hear that Arisu and Chisiya are, uh, finally expressing their feelings for each other.”
“Oh, they were expressing something,” Hatter muses, “Don’t worry—I left them to it. Far be it from me to interrupt young love…or whatever the hell that Chisiya kid’s got going on, I don’t pretend to know.”
He shrugs.
“Well, anyways,” Hatter concludes, “their business is their business, and I’m not one to pry.”
Usagi doubts that, but nods along anyways.
“But you, though,” he adds, lifting the delicate little teapot on the table and topping off her hibiscus tea, “since you’re already here, and we’re having such a lovely time together…”
Usagi gulps, that feeling of ‘this is not good’ settling into her stomach once again.
“…Let’s talk about girls.”
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elerondo · 3 years
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Headcanon | Rivendell and Celebrian
This headcanon is set in the timeline from S.A. 1697 to T.A. 2501, so it’s going to be very long. It is my attempt at the fullest account of Elrond’s priorities in that timeline, and his life and marriage to Celebrian. And the After.
PRELUDE After the initial crush that Elrond had on Celebrian, Elrond did wait more than 1700 years before proposing to her. Elrond did not want to subject her to a life of war and hardship with him when they’d only just met. Elrond loved Celebrian enough to let her go home to safety and a more peaceful life. But Elrond loved Middle Earth more, that he would sacrifice his personal happiness in order to protect and save the free peoples.
The dire costs of the War of the Elves and Sauron were echoes of the War of Wrath, where Elrond had seen the wrath of the dragons as a youth and the trumpets that eventually marred and sunk Beleriand. He was determined not to let Eriador reach that stage of destruction, and since few of the strangers in the Valley were well enough to engage in battle, Elrond was frequently at the helm of offensive measures against the forces of Sauron that sought to besiege Rivendell.
POST WAR OF THE ELVES AND SAURON When Rivendell was founded, it was basically filled with refugees and soldiers gravely wounded from the destruction of Eregion and Sauron’s conquest of Eriador. Simply put, Rivendell was functional at best, and a stinky shit hole of armour and blood at its worst. A stronghold with severely weakened military power. There was no Ring of Power to protect it yet, so Elrond took it upon himself to ride out and meet evil before it could come near. Frequently, he rode from the northern foothills of the Hithaeglir, to the south bordering the outskirts of Eregion, then east across the valley to the ford of Bruinen, and even further still to penetrate the forests to the west.
Even though Elrond wanted to beautify Rivendell with other areas like education, hospitality, music, etc, it remained clear to Elrond that his immediate and most urgent priorities had to be taking vanguard in most marches as his elves and men were recovering, returning home, or sailing West.
After Vilya was handed to Elrond and he was made Lord and Master of Rivendell, Elrond was at the peak of his power and strength. Loyal and following the passions of a war won, the coverage of Vilya stretched from the Men-i-Naugrim to the Coldfells to the Last Bridge to the meet of Mitheithel and Bruinen. It matched his initial marches, patrols, and more. Elrond purified the forests and straightened the roads, dealing death to the last of the fell beings out of the Coldfells, the East Road, and the Old Forest Road. Strongholds were built upon the Misty Mountains and the borders of Eregion to keep watch on the southern and eastern passages. Where the Ring could reach, there Elrond’s spirit was, working its inner machinations to keep it safe.
FALL OF NUMENOR Elrond took his marches very far south to keep the borders and to exercise his Crown rights. He tripled the patrols around southern Eriador. If there were any stray survivors, they must be verified clean and without evil before they could travel. Otherwise, they were caught and handed to the nearest City willing to let them stand trial. When the presence of the Crown Prince of the Noldor increased near the borders of Gondor, there were quite many mixed reactions. A certain pressure to observe decorum, for example, to stop everything one was doing to answer questions, possessions checked thoroughly, and weapons that were deemed stolen or machines of darkness were confiscated until further notice. As long as one saw the banners of Gil-galad, even from a distance, they were compelled to stop and obey.
MARRIAGE TO CELEBRIAN Elrond is not a free and easy leader. He is a leader who actively chooses to sacrifice his happiness, his reputation, rest / sleep / food, for the sake of protecting and aiding the people at large. Elrond’s version of taking care of himself was stretched until his limits threatened to break, then rest for a while. It was the equivalent of sleeping once a week.
I think that Celebrian would have heard a lot about Elrond and what he was doing, Elrond’s fame and infamy spreading far and wide over the Misty Mountains. On the other side of the land, Elrond knew his deeds and renown were preceding him. He had some fears that he wouldn’t be well liked, because who could understand the land’s emergencies as well as him? He didn’t think anyone could, not because he was arrogant or wanted to do everything himself, but he was the most endowed.
Celebrian would be the only person Elrond could be weak to without being judged, rejected, or told to change or stop what he was doing. With her, Elrond was that bit more comfortable in taking / asking for comforts, and sharing his griefs, resentment, the nasty stuff and not just his plans, counsel, the good stuff that was always dispensed to all without cost. Celebrian was the shoulder Elrond cried on, while he was the shoulder for the world. Celebrian was the person whom Elrond revealed all of his quirks and eccentricity to. It was Celebrian who really made Rivendell into a Homely House. Celebrian was the one who helped him fulfil his visions and execute the blueprints of his mind while he properly focused on keeping Eriador and Rivendell safe. With her in mind, Elrond took more care of himself because he did not want her to be worried about him. Elrond was the healthiest in the 1000+ years before the Angmar War.
ANGMAR RISING The split and existence of Rhudaur in T.A. 861 unsettled him and so Elrond frequently visited Arthedain in secret, debating upon many topics of potential insurrection and defense strategies. The chief of the matter were these: Both Rhudaur and Cardolan desired to possess Amon Sul, and Rhudaur resisted Argeleb who claimed to be High King over all of Arnor. Elrond was sensitive to the matters of kingship and the Palantir. For the lands of Men and the Palantiri to come under one king was better than for them to split into the hands of the wrong people. Celebrian understood that for Elrond to ally Rivendell with Arthedain, hostilities with the rest would be inevitable.
( my Angmar war timeline here where Elrond suffered a Morgul-wound at the end of )
THE WATCHFUL PEACE … is a deceitful name. It was more watchful than it was peaceful.
Rivendell spent the early years recovering from the 600 year war, especially Elrond - being the first of all elves to suffer a Morgul-wound, a large scar on his back with no recovery method yet. Elrond had to devise and experiment on himself, while he was suffering from it, before he managed to heal himself. However, the military never again rises up to any relevant standard in a war. A lot of commanders were lost, Elrond was weak and sick, and many elves succumbed to their injuries, grief, and they faded or sailed West.
Every year for the rest of Elrond’s life in Middle Earth, on the same week, the Morgul-wound brought Elrond searing and debilitating pain. He still could hold the power of Vilya over The Angle and the Misty Mountains, but the western forests and Coldfells were neglected.
Rivendell never ceases to send patrols across Eriador, despite Elrond being in an extremely bad shape and the vale was desperately short handed. Elrond depended on Vilya more, both to heal and to protect, as he would leave Rivendell defenseless except for the Kingsguard, while he sent aid and resources everywhere else. Celebrian was beside him every step of the way, going into a Post-war scenario in a huge piece of land called Eriador again. They really could not enjoy the quieter times at all.
Furthermore, before the Watchful Peace ended, evil again invaded Eriador. It was followed by Galadriel’s summons of the White Council.
CELEBRIAN ASSAILED, DEPARTURE TO THE WEST 46 years later, tragedy ended the marriage of Celebrian and Elrond. He would be officially widowed with her passing over the Great Sea. The greatest healer who ever lived could not save his greatest love.
He let her go when she made her choice to go. He did not force to stay her, it would be too cruel to her. Elrond chose to do what was right instead of what was kinder to himself. When she left, she tore half his heart and flesh along with it.
This trauma is one that Elrond carries with him. The darkening of the times did work to twist his sacrifice into guilt, into thoughts of ❛What if❜ he was stronger, more powerful, better, or enough. Because of how obvious it was that Celebrian’s assault was premeditated by Sauron to weaken Rivendell, Elrond would always blame himself for bringing her into his life. Perhaps he should have just continued hiding his love. Perhaps she would have been safe. Perhaps.
In Elrond’s lowest moments, he could not understand what was so good about Valinor. He could not reconcile Celebrian’s choice of Aman over him and their 3 children together. For all his wars and battles in Middle Earth, no army ever came from the West to aid the people. He has no good perception of Aman. Over time, Celebrian’s departure joined one of many gravestones that Elrond had to force himself to move forward from. It was the only way, force himself not to dwell on it, bury himself in work, in the forge, in planning. For his children, for all the people who depended on him, for the sake of unseating Sauron, Elrond had to move forward even if it was by crawling through the mud.
His love for her did dull, did become mixed with depression, and he feared to see her again if he sailed to Aman. Elrond fears that Aman might actually be better for Celebrian than him. The dilemma? Wanting Celebrian to be happy and healthy, but wanting it to be him for her and no one else. Elrond knew the solution to that, and the answer was: Not him. It is a fact that is so hard to swallow at times, that he has to leave the love of his life in someone else’s hands.
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artaefact · 4 years
Text
bakery 1995.
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—wordcount: 14.7k+
—genre: angst, fluff, romance, baker!jimin, bakery cafe au, childhood friends-to-lovers au
—pairing: park jimin x f reader ft. bestfriend!jungkook
—rating: pg-15
—warnings: age gap (jimin is 4-5 years older), brief mention of physical assault, memory loss, overprotective parents, some intended grammatical mistakes, swearings, y/n is dragged into jungkook’s shenanigans
—summary: After returning from college for summer break, you got yourself a part time job to keep yourself busy. However, things go way too unexpectedly and you find yourself unraveling your forgotten past.
author’s note: this is for @btswritingcafe promptly yours event !! i tweaked the prompt a bit, so hopefully no one would get confused! happy reading ♡
Prompt: “Person A once had a major childhood crush on Person B. Fast forward to college where Person A is convinced it was nothing but temporary, that is until they return home for summer break to find Person B back after being gone for several years. Turns out, they weren’t such temporary feelings.”
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© artaefact/eunoiabliss 2020. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is NOT permitted.
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It’s nice to know that no matter how judgemental the world can be, pigeons would never judge you. Despite the clear contrast between yourself and the asphalt pathway, they would not hesitate to excrete waste on either of them and can’t even be bothered by the possible consequences.
Staring at the dropping on your jacket sleeve, you exhale loudly while rummaging your pocket for a kleenex.
‘Out of all the places where their shit could have landed on, it had to be MY jacket,’ you grumble to yourself.
Reaching towards the bakery in the area, you hope they still have some cinnamon rolls you have been craving for. You can already imagine yourself humming in delight as the sweetness spreads across your taste buds and—
“You have got to be kidding me.”
The cashier attendee bows apologetically at you. “We’re so sorry, all the cinnamon rolls are sold out for today.”
Today must be the worst day to date in your entire years of existence. How on earth can a bakery run out of cinnamon rolls?
Groaning internally, you trudge out of the, now, third bakery that has sold out their cinnamon rolls.
Bad luck seems to follow you throughout the day. Is it because you went out of the house while your parents were in the middle of nagging you? For the last few days after you came back home for summer break, they have been constantly nagging you and you would kill to have an hour of peace and quiet.
Mindlessly, you whip up your phone and search up on Google while you walk to the nearby bus station, typing in the search bar — is it bad luck if a bird pooped on you?
Biting your lower lip, you press on the first link that appears on the screen.
Bird poop may be a sign of hope in disguise, you read. Snorting in incredulity, you scroll through the webpage.
It can’t be good luck.
You are not the type to believe in superstitions, however, besides getting pooped on, you dropped your phone on the pavement of the sidewalk just before you reached the first bakery, an hour ago. This resulted in the annoying crack of the screen right in the middle of it. Not only that, the sole of your right tennis shoes came off halfway which hindered you from walking properly and made you look like someone who hurt their leg.
Having had enough for today, you decide to go back home. Until a pastel pink store, right across the street, catches your attention with its aesthetic-looking door.
What’s this? A new—
A dramatic gasp escapes your lips after reading the name of the store, earning confused stares from nearby people. But you couldn’t care less.
Maybe Lady Luck does still care about you.
As soon as the pedestrian light turns green, you excitedly run, no, shuffle through the zebra-cross, reaching the newly-opened bakery.
My last hope is here. Please, let there be—
The interior of the bakery exudes a welcoming vibe, with the color of pale pink being the dominant over the whole place. Basically, it's a place where those Instagram models would kill to take their pictures at. However, it’s not the interior itself that your focus locks on. When the smell of freshly baked goods wafts into your nose, your eyes zero themselves on the various types of pastries that line the display counter, covered in glass domes. And there it is.
“Yes!” You squeal, grabbing the bakery tray to fill it as much as you’d like.
When you place the filled tray in the cash register counter, the cashier comments, “Woah, that’s a lot.”
If it is a normal day, you would have waved it off. However, unfortunately for the guy, it isn’t a normal day for you, after the constant annoying incidents that happened to you earlier. The comment snaps the last thread of patience you have for the day and sadly, targets the person in front of you. “I think you should mind your own—”
You take your thoughts back. Lady Luck is not on your side nor is the universe. They must be having fun, playing pranks on you so much today.
Your words cease immediately at his sheepish yet attractive smile.
“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer. “Just having a really bad day and I—”
“No! That’s okay.” The guy grins at you, eyes turning into crescent moons. “I’m the one who should be sorry, I just said the first thing that came up in my mind.”
“Ah...”
“I suck at starting conversations,” he says, sheepishly. “It’s a skill I’m planning to improve.”
Blinking twice, you manage to smile back at him, most probably just a cringed expression. “Well, um, good luck with that.”
As soon as he hands you the paper bag, you dash out of the bakery, not once looking back.
Your cheeks feel hot during the whole trip back home, every time you remember what happened, you would mentally kick yourself.
✧༺♡༻∞  ∞༺♡༻✧
Eating the warm cinnamon rolls is a blessing and a curse.
You have never tasted such heavenly flavour before, all your worries and exhaustion seem to fade away. This brings you to freeze in the realisation that you’ll want, no, need to go back to that bakery to buy those delicious rolls again. Meaning, you’ll see that cute guy whom you snapped at earlier, again.
His friendly eye-smile burns deep in your mind. But you can’t shrug off the sense of familiarity of his face and his voice…
Have I met him before?
Once you reach home, body aching and tired, you take a quick shower before digging into the rolls. Clicking your tongue, you continue to munch on the rolls in your room while your thoughts pull you in deep.
The sudden knock on your door, however, brings you back to the present. Groaning loudly, you stand up from your padded window seat.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Jungkook.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Your mouth agape at the sudden visit from your best friend. “Didn’t you say you won’t see me at all until break is over?”
“I might have changed my mind. I was very bored at home.” He enters your room, plopping on your beanbag. “So, now I am bored as hell and— Did you buy food without telling me?”
You met him during freshman year and you both hit it off quite quickly, you might add. After constantly pairing up together in projects, college project meetups gradually turned into hangouts.
“Says the one who claims to see my face every day makes him sick.” You roll your eyes at his dramatic ass, you go back to the window seat, crossing your legs. “It wasn’t planned, okay? I just got back home like thirty minutes ago.”
“But still you nearly finished everything without leaving me much!” He bit your last half-finished roll, letting out a noise of approval. “Which bakery did you buy it from?”
“It’s a new one. I never saw it before we went to college.”
“You should bring me there soon.”
“Nu-uh,” you refuse. “You can go yourself. I am not stepping a foot inside that place any longer.”
“What? Why not?”
“I may have embarrassed myself in front of the worker there.” Then you tell him what happened earlier.
Jungkook shakes his head in pity. “My poor Y/N, how do you always embarrass yourself when I’m not around? How would you survive in this world without me?”
Snorting at his words, you lean against the pillows on your back. “You’re the lucky one to have someone like me as his best friend. Anyways, how about that job I’m looking for?”
“Oh!” Jungkook’s eyes lit up. “Right, I was about to tell you! My friend is looking for a part-timer for his cafe.”
“Hmm, that sounds…”
Jungkook answers, “Boring? I know you’re looking for something much more exciting and—”
Narrowing your stare at Jungkook’s obvious judgmental face, you cut him off. “It sounds perfect, actually.”
Sighing, Jungkook whips up his phone. “You better bring me leftovers every time you get off work. I’ll bring you to his cafe tomorrow.”
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“You’re kidding me.”
“What? Why?”
“You little shit—” You smack his arm.
“Ow! Stop that, woman! I thought you said—”
“This is a fucking bakery, dumbass!” You hiss at him.
Jungkook gapes at you. “It’s a bakery cafe, what’s the difference?”
“It’s different! I can’t go back in there!” You whine in embarrassment.
“Wait— So this is the bakery where you embarrassed yourself?”
Nodding wordlessly, you exhale before catching Jungkook failing to stifle his laughter. “Shouldn’t be too big of a problem. He’s nice, Y/N.”
“But—”
“And I told him you were coming…” Jungkook scratches the back of his head.
After contemplating for a while, you decided to gather your courage and enter the sweet-smelling bakery with Jungkook.
Too late to go back now. It was either this or staying bored at home for the rest of the summer break, facing your parents’ look of disapproval at your lack of daily activities, or to be more exact productivity.
The cute guy just finished placing cakes inside the glass displays on the counter, then his gaze shifts to where you and Jungkook are standing.
“Jungkook!” The cute guy’s brown hair is slicked back as he takes off his baker’s hat, approaching your best friend.
“It’s been so long, Hyung!” Jungkook greets back with a hug, smiling from ear to ear. “And wow—” His eyes skim through the pastel-themed cafe. “You finally opened your own cafe.”
Watching them interacting is a foreign sight to you. It’s a rare right to see Jungkook, the usually shy one, so friendly and comfortable around the cute guy.
If you’re lucky enough, maybe the cute guy won’t remember you and—
“Ah! Miss Cinnamon Rolls!”
Scratch that. Of course, he still remembers you.
“I didn’t know you were looking for a job.” His eye smile lands on you finally and your throat dries up.
Jungkook fails to hold back his laughter. “Miss Cinnamon Rolls? Just how much did you buy last time?”
After sending a brief glare at your best friend, you introduce yourself to the cute guy, “Y/N.”
As soon as your name slips past your lips, the cute guy freezes momentarily, eyes widening a fraction. “Y/N?”
You nod slowly.
“Uh,” He fumbles. “Jimin. Park Jimin.”
✧༺♡༻∞  ∞༺♡༻✧
“So, this is the kitchen area. We need to get the place ready by 8:30. Can you come by at 6 the latest?”
You nod at his question.
“We have a different menu each day. It will take some time for you to learn everything. But don’t worry I’ll teach everything you need to know.” He shoots you a smile, sending your heart to slightly flutter as you fiddle with your fingers.
Thank goodness Jungkook has left. Or else you’d never hear the end of his teasing or knowing smirk.
“I’m starting with bread and cakes these past few days before I open up the cafe section.”
For the rest of the day, Jimin spends his time letting you know everything about how the bakery runs whenever there are no customers. Even gracing you with two pieces of freshly-baked cinnamon rolls which made your cheeks burn in embarrassment at the memory of your first encounter.
“Go ahead, enjoy it,” Jimin shoots you a knowing grin.
Muttering a quiet ‘okay’, you take the first bite — holding a delighted groan at the sweetness that bursts through your tastebuds.
Propping his chin on his hand, he stares at you in amusement. “You must really like cinnamon rolls, huh?”
“They’re my comfort food,” you admit after swallowing down a piece. “My late grandmother used to make a lot of rolls at home.”
“I see… Well, have you ever baked before, Y/N?”
“The basic stuff like chocolate chip cookies…”
“Oh, that’s great—”
You added quickly, “But I nearly burned down Jungkook’s kitchen, though. He banned me from the kitchen ever since.”
A surprised laugh escapes the man’s lips which you don’t mind hearing more often, especially if you are the one behind it.
“At least the cookies still turned out great. It was a bit on the burnt side but still good… Crispy and crunchy.” You nervously chuckle. “But I swear, I’m not that bad if you provide a clear recipe!”
Still giggling, Jimin leans forward on his seat. “I can teach you everything you need to know. The basic stuff on baking and then there would be clear recipes I can provide you.”
Your eyes lighten up at that. “Yes! I’ll try my best.”
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Arriving at the bakery at 6 am sharp, the next day — your official first day at work — Jimin can be seen moving back and forth from the small window opening connecting the kitchen and the bakery itself, already busy in the kitchen.
The smell of his work wafts through the entire bakery, indicating that he has been there for quite some time. Once you enter the kitchen, your mouth waters instinctively at the smell and sight of freshly-baked breads on the counter.
“How can I help?” From observing the finished baked goods, your eyes shift curiously at some ingredients — eggs, chocolate chips, sugar, flour — on the kitchen counter while you tighten the knot of your apron.
“You’re going to bake some chocolate chip cookies.” Jimin places a tray full of another different set of bread near the first one through the window. “So, go ahead, preheat the oven first.”
Following his instruction, you move towards one of the ovens. “Um…”
The corner of his lips quirks up at your obvious confusion before he chimes on how hot the oven should be set on.
With a brief nod, you turn on the oven. “Is this a test to see how far my baking skills go?” When you take a glimpse of the honey-haired man, he returns it with an amused grin of his own.
“Bingo.” Jimin’s smile is boyish and carefree and his eyes become crescent moons.
In other words, it made your heart race. However, you dismiss such unprofessional thoughts quickly before blood rises to your cheeks.
Clearing your throat, you move to the counter and start mixing the necessary ingredients altogether and set the dough on the baking tray. When the oven is preheated, you bring the tray towards it only to realise your mistake too late: not opening the oven first.
“Let me help,” Jimin says softly, opening the oven deftly.
“T-Thanks...” you mumble, concentrating on the task at hand.
Time passes quickly, before you know it, the oven makes a soft ‘ting’ sound. Opening it, the sweet smell wafts through the kitchen.
“I did it!” you say, excitedly placing the hot tray on the marble counter.
“But the final test is how the cookies taste.”
You watch in nervous anticipation as Jimin pops one of the cookies into his mouth. Not a moment later, he lets out a surprised sound.
“This is really good, Y/N. You do have the talent to bake.”
You beam at his words.
“Since that’s all set, I believe we still have other kinds of pastries to prepare for the day. I have all the recipes prepared for you here.” He motions to the notebook on the counter — you flip through it, astonished at all the recipes.
“Are these your own personalised recipes?”
Nodding, Jimin shoots you a grin. “I’ve always loved baking and there are some ways to make things with their own unique taste.”
The rest of the upcoming hour, you and Jimin were busy baking with Jimin instructing and giving you pointers. At some point, you even talked about anything and everything, as if you both have known each other all your life while you both work.
You have to admit, you find it really enjoyable. When the bakery closes, you sit quietly on one of the empty tables near the cashier after Jimin tells you to wait.
Mindlessly flipping through his recipe notebook, your attention soon shifts to Jimin himself with a steaming cup in his hold.
“Here.” He sets the cup in front of you.
You look at him quizzically before he motions for you to try.
“I’m opening the cafe part next week,” Jimin says. “Thought you can be the first to judge my caramel macchiato.”
“That’s a lot of caramel in one drink…” For a few moments, you observe the steaming coffee, froth decorates the top of it with drizzles of caramel in patterns of criss-cross nearly covering most of the foam itself. “Why caramel macchiato, though?”
“I thought you’d—” He clears his throat. “So many people really love caramel macchiato. So, I thought I’d go with this one for you to try first.”
Bringing the cup carefully to your lips, you take a sip of the beverage. The texture of the coffee is so smooth and the slight bitterness spreads through your taste buds and down your throat. Then you taste the caramel, letting out a delighted surprise when you find caramel bits inside the beverage.
Jimin keeps his stare on you, one hand supporting his chin and his eyes unreadable.
“What is it?” You ask, after downing the drink.
He blinks as if he was lost in his own thoughts. “Uh, how is it?”
“It’s very good.”
“Do you like coffee?” He asks.
Nodding, you tell him you loved to steal your mom’s coffee when you were younger. “There used to be a cafe near my place. I used to go there frequently during my high school years.”
Jimin briefly stills at yours words. “Do you... Still go there?”
You shake your head. “It was closed two years ago unfortunately.”
“Hmm, that’s a shame. I would’ve wanted to try the coffee there.”
Chuckling at his words, your mind takes you back to your high school days. “It was really good.”
Humming to yourself, you continue to flip through the pages of Jimin’s recipe notebook. “What’s this?” You stop at one page, pointing at a child’s drawing on his recipe notebook. “Did you draw it when you were younger?”
“It’s a shooting star.” Jimin answers. “And, no. I didn’t.”
“Oh? Sister? Brother?”
“I don’t have a sister and my brother just does not have the artistic skill to draw that,” he laughs. “It was someone from my past. Someone who is precious to me.”
“Oh…” Noticing his faraway gaze on the notebook, you sense it is a sensitive topic. “Why a shooting star though?”
“It represents hopes and wishes, according to her.” His smile turns nostalgic. “I was having a hard time back then. But this girl,” he chuckles as if in disbelief. “— just straight up grabbed my notebook and drew a shooting star on it, saying I should wish on this star since seeing a shooting star is not that common here.”
There’s something sad but warm in Jimin’s tone as he talks about this girl. You can only assume that this girl is not in his life anymore. Or even in this world.
“I see…”
“As ridiculous as it sounds, I actually did it. Very frequently in all honesty. Whenever I’m having a hard time, I’d wish upon that star.”
✧༺♡༻∞  ∞༺♡༻✧
A week passes quickly and just like a normal day, you arrive back home just a quarter past eight. Tugging off your shoes near the doorway, you hear your dad calling from the living room.
“Yes?” Mindlessly, you step into the living room only to meet the stern glare from him.
“Where were you?” Your dad asks. “Do you have any idea what time it is now?”
“It’s around eight...”
“And your curfew?”
Furrowing your brows, you gape, “I thought that was back in high school.”
“That still applies until now. I expect you to come back before seven.” Then he repeats his question, “Where were you?”
“From my new part-time place.” You answer. “I thought I told you about it.”
“If you want a job, you can intern in the company for the summer,” your dad sighs. “There’s no need for part-time jobs.”
You should have known it would last just three days before you are missing your university life, or to be more specific living alone. With the constant nagging from your parents, you crave for silence for a period of time. One thing you have been missing quite badly you have to admit, which is why you took the job in the bakery. Away from the scrutinising stares of your parents.
Here it goes again.
“I don’t think I’m ready to start there, Dad,” you exhale. “I want to do other things while I can.”
The same topic, the same debate you’d try to avoid as much as possible ever since you arrived back home for the summer. That was why you’d try to find something else to do. You always wanted to try a new hobby over the holidays. Now, with the excess amount of time in your hands, you are able to try.
That is why you opt for the part time job Jungkook found — working in the bakery.
“This isn’t going to work if you get home after your curfew, Y/N. You know how dangerous it is if you come home late.”
“I’m an adult now,” you reply, exasperatedly. “I can take care—”
“Things can get unpredictable, Y/N. It’s better that you’re safe than sorry.”
“Dad, when will you stop reminding me of that?” You groan in annoyance. “I don’t even remember how the accident happened.”
“The more reason for you to be cautious!”
Exasperated, you storm up to your room and carelessly throw your bag on the side of your bed. Laying on your back, you stare at the ceiling as your thoughts muddle when you try to think of what happened.
All you remember back then is that you woke up in the hospital, met with the worried gaze of your parents as soon as you got your consciousness back. However, they never tell or fill you in on what happened.
Gradually, your eyelids grow heavier — exhausted from the day and the burst of negative emotions over the argument you had earlier. Thus, you succumb to sleep. However, your mind takes you elsewhere.
Everything is dark.
With your own ragged breathing, you struggle to keep yourself as quiet as possible, biting down a hiss from the sting of your scraped knees. Tears pool in your eyes as you wait, hidden behind one of the playground’s slides and out of sight of any possible passerby.
There are no memories of what happened beforehand. All you know is to stay there and wait.
“Y/N?”
Peeking out of your hiding place, the figure draws closer calling your name in another hushed whisper.
But you knew this voice. So, you whispered back, “Here...” As soon as you get out of your hiding place, a warm embrace envelops your small frame.
“We’re okay, everything’s okay. I’ve lost them. We’re safe now,” he whispers, stroking your head softly while your fists clench on his shirt.
Not a moment later, your tears start to fall and you sob into his shirt. He tightens his hold on you, one hand on the back of your head as he repeatedly whispers, “It’s okay, I’m here.”
“I’m here...” His voice then seems to echo and your surrounding becomes a blur.
When you open your eyes, you realise you’re back in your room yet there are stray tears in your eyes. Sitting up on your bed, you take a few deep breaths to calm yourself.
Was that a memory…?
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“Have a good day.” You bid the last customer of the day farewell and once they leave, your cheeks droop into a frown. With a sigh, you walk out of the cashier register place towards the front door, turning the ‘Open’ plate to ‘Close’.
The dream you had last night still felt so vivid that you considered it was a flashback of your memory loss. You wanted to ask your parents about it. However, yesterday’s conflict was still fresh. You were sure they would dismiss it.
After cleaning up the counters of the bakery café and mopping the floors, you trudge into the break room, sitting down on one of its chairs as you wait for Jimin’s return from his “errand”.
Your mind takes you back to the dream where someone was hugging you tight.
Who was it? you wonder. In the back of your mind, somehow you never felt his warmth among your high school friends. The guy who was holding you is just different.
You are so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t realise Jimin entering until he brings something right in front of your face. “What—”
“Hot chocolate,” he answers, softly. “You seem distracted today, I thought this might cheer you up.”
Taking the steaming cup from him, you mutter your thanks before breathing in the sweet smell, blowing softly on the beverage. “That was fast.”
“Hmm?”
“Wait, did you go out to buy this?” You lift the warm cup of hot chocolate.
Jimin lets out an embarrassed chuckle. “I wanted to make you one. Until I realised that the ingredients are finished. So, I had to run out.”
“You didn’t have to, you know…”
“I know. But I wanted to anyway.”
Your eyes look down, can’t help feeling touched by his sweet gesture as you fight back to keep yourself from blushing.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He must have noticed the change of your expression before he says quickly, “Only if you’re comfortable, of course! I just thought talking about what’s on your mind can ease you. At least a bit.”
Blinking your eyes twice, a chuckle escapes your lips. “I guess so.”
“That’s your first smile today.”
You raise a brow at him.
“Your first real smile, I mean. Your cheekbones do not have much tension if you’re genuinely happy whereas if you fake a smile, it seems more like you’re cringing. Like our first encounter.” He chuckles, meaningfully.
“I’m sorry...” you mumble, eyes glancing down at the steaming hot chocolate on your lap.
“That’s fine,” he says easily. “Everyone has their bad days.”
You smile slightly at his words. “Had a fight with my parents last night.”
Jimin stays quiet, still listening to you.
“They are always so protective when it comes to me. Maybe a bit too much at times. I’m a grown adult for fuck’s sake.” Another sigh escapes your lips before taking a sip of the hot chocolate. “My dad especially. He made it sound like a big deal when I came home around eight. I’m just frustrated at this.”
“Have you talked to him about it?”
You nod in response.
“Was there something that made your dad feel that way?”
“I...” You blink. “I guess it’s because that one time I ended up in the hospital?”
“You did?”
You nod. “A few years ago, I had an accident.”
Jimin stiffens at your words. “Oh?”
“But it was nothing. I didn’t even remember what happened in all honesty.”
He stutters, “W-What?”
“I lost my memories. I had no recall of the accident at all.” Eyes training blankly on your front, focusing on nothing as you dive back into your memories. “My parents told me there is nothing to worry about and my memories would come back gradually. They never filled me in on what happened too.”
The corner of his lips soon quirks up slightly, his expression wistful. “Maybe they wouldn’t want you to be traumatised by what happened. It’s already fortunate enough for you to be able to recover from your head injury.”
“Yeah... I guess so,” you mumble.
However, since that incident you can’t deny the feeling of something missing since a chunk of your life has been cut off. No memories of the accident have returned even after years. Recovering from the head injury—
“Wait—” Head snapping to face Jimin. “How did you know I had a head injury?”
Jimin blinks repeatedly, as if your words just sink in. “Ah! I mean isn’t it a head injury? You lost your memories after all.” An awkward laugh escapes his lips. “Usually, people who lost their memories have head injuries, right?”
“Well, yeah...”
“Anyways, finish the hot chocolate and you should head home before your parents—”
Suddenly, a wave of deja vu washes over you. Snapping your gaze from the hot chocolate in your hands, you look at Jimin as your brain starts to grow fuzzy at the familiarity of Jimin’s words.
“Jimin...” you begin.
“Huh?”
“Have we ever met before I started working here?”
“You mean the first time you came into this bakery?”
You shake your head. “No, even before that. Did we know each other?”
A surprised glint appears in his eyes before it dissipates as quick as it appears. “I don’t think so…?”
Oh.
“Maybe we’ve just ran into each other at some point in town. But I don’t think we ever knew each other.”
“I see...” Disappointment floods through you at his words.
Right, you thought to yourself. If he was a close friend he would have recognised you instantly when you came to his bakery.
“Oh, look at the time.” Jimin stands up. “You need to be home before dark, right?”
“It’s not a big deal—”
He shakes his head. “It’s alright. You’ve finished cleaning today. I just need to close up and check the supplies.”
“But—” Your words die in your throat when Jimin pats your head.
“You’ve worked hard today,” he grins at you.
✧༺♡༻∞  ∞༺♡༻✧
“I’m home,” you call out to no one in particular before you hear your mother from the kitchen.
Once you reach the kitchen, your mother turns her head to see you. “Help me set the table, dinner’s almost ready.”
Nodding, you follow suit. “Where’s Dad?”
“Your father is still caught in a meeting. He’ll be home late.”
“I see,” you mutter, placing the silverwares on the table.
“How’s work?” your mother asks. “You’re home earlier than usual.”
“It’s great,” you answer. “The boss lets me off early.”
And you continue to talk about your day. From helping Jimin bake cakes and bread early in the morning, serving customers coffee and desserts, cleaning up the whole place, and enjoying the hot chocolate Jimin bought you earlier.
“He sounds like a nice guy,” your mom muses when you both sit at the dinner table.
“He is.” A smile appears on your face, remembering his sweet gesture and warm presence. Then your mind shifts to the conversation you had earlier, and what has been bothering you lately. “Mom?”
“Hmm…?”
“Five years ago, how did I end up in the hospital?”
Your mother noticeably stiffens at your question, ceases digging through her plate of food.
“You and Dad never filled me in. You both kept on saying that my memories will return eventually… Until now actually.” You let out a breath. “I think I’m old enough to know what really happened.”
Letting out a deep breath herself, your mother puts down her fork. “What do you remember?”
“I was at a playground and hiding… Then there’s someone who came to find me.” Met with silence from your mother, you continue, “Was it one of my friends?”
Shaking her head, your mother answers, “It wasn’t any of your high school friends.”
“Then who…?”
“You never mentioned his name. But you’d always talk about him back then.” Your mother sighs. “Go through the attic when you’re having a day off. You’ll find some of your old stuff I hid there. Make sure your father is not home.”
Standing up, you want to go there at once. However, your mother stops you. “Y/N, listen to me. Whatever you find there, if you… If anything hurts or feels just too much, I want you to stop, alright? You’re a grown adult and I trust you’ll prioritise your own health.”
Nodding wordlessly, you finish the remaining food on your plate.
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[ when you were fifteen years old: after the incident ]
When the dismissal bell rings, some students instantly scramble from their desks, some stretch lazily on their seats and have conversations with others.
“Hey, Y/N.” One of your classmates calls you, a smile etched on her face. “So glad to have you back.”
“Yeah! This sem has been a pain in the ass. You’ll get through it in a breeze!” Another classmate adds.
You respond with a grateful smile of your own before packing up your things.
It hasn’t been that long since you were released from the hospital. You have persistently insisted your parents to let you go back to school and they finally relented after you promised them that you’ll go straight back home and to not strain yourself after dismissing your parents’ idea of hiring a driver.
Today is your first day back. Your friends greeted you excitedly when you stepped into the classroom. Even those who you recall never talked much with you greeted you with a ‘Hi’.
Walking mindlessly through the streets of your neighbourhood, your legs take you to a cafe as you recognise the familiar scent of coffee.
Tilting your head in confusion, you stare at the cafe building in shades of black and brown.
What exactly are you doing here?
There were no planned meetups with your friends, yet, your body seems to find its way here. Fishing out your phone, you scan through the past messages to double check any planned hangouts.
It’s a Wednesday.
But…
With the curiosity nagging inside you, you search for Beomgyu’s contact.
[ 4:05 PM ] You: beomie, do you know the cafe near my place?
[ 4:05 PM ] Beomgyu: i guess?? Every wednesday you'd always go there for no apparent reason at all. When i wanted to tag along you’d always give me the devil eye :(
[ 4:05 PM ] You: oh… that’s… well, sorry lol. Do u wanna come here?
[ 4:06 PM ] Beomgyu: wait, r u srs ???
[ 4:06 PM ] You: i mean if u’re not busy and i think getting coffee and hanging in the cafe would be good.
[ 4:07 PM ] Beomgyu: i'd never thought this day would come :’) i’ll be there in 10.
Chuckling at your friend’s response, you place your phone back into your pocket. Exhaling, you enter the cafe and make your way towards the cashier register.
“Welcome, what would you like for today?” The person smiles at you.
“Caramel macchiato, please.”
She nods, typing in your order. “That will be four dollars.”
After exchanging your payment with a receipt, you wait at an empty table for two near the window. Something about this familiar place, however, feels off. Like there is something missing that you can’t seem to put your finger on.
Your thoughts are cut off when someone takes the seat across from you. “Why are you so deep in thought?”
Beomgyu stares at you quizzically as you blink in realisation. “Uh…”
He narrows his stare at you suspiciously before shifting his gaze around the cafe. “So, what is it that kept you going here?”
You shake your head in response. “I have no idea either. Honestly, I have this gut feeling to come here when I passed by earlier.”
“Hmm, maybe the coffee?” Beomgyu watches one of the waitresses bringing your orders, placing it on your table.
Sighing, you stare at the steaming cup with caramel drizzles on the foam for a few moments. Then you bring the cup to your lips to take a sip.
“Argh, why is this bitter?” Scrunching your nose, you motion towards the waitress for extra caramel.
“Did… Your taste buds change too? You said the caramel macchiato here is perfect.”
A snort escapes you as you drizzle more caramel into the coffee. “I got hit in the damn head, Beomie. It doesn’t change my taste buds.”
He shrugs. “Well, who knows. I never knew you like caramel that much.”
You freeze momentarily.
“Y/N? You okay?” Beomgyu waves a hand in front of your face.
“Y-yeah, I just…”
“You just…?”
Shaking your head once more, you whisper, “It’s nothing…” But your eyes scan through the busy workers in the cafe.
Deep inside, you had an inkling that the coffee here isn’t your sole reason for coming here.
✧༺♡༻∞  ∞༺♡༻✧
Turns out you were right.
Once when you came into the cafe on another Wednesday, you sat at your usual place after ordering your usual drink.
“Oh, my dear, you’re finally back,” someone says.
Blinking, your gaze snaps to the elder woman — maybe around her mid fifties — and you give her a small smile before asking, “Do I know you...?”
It was her turn to look confused at your words.
“I’m really sorry for not recognising!” You grow flustered at your words. “I lost my memory in an accident a few months ago...”
“Oh, that’s awful!” The lady — a regular customer, you assume — gasps. “So that’s why you don’t frequent this cafe anymore. The young man looked so heartbroken before he quit his job—”
“Young man?”
“The barista, dear,” the lady replies. “You used to come here and meet him. I had to shush the both of you every time to not disturb the other customers.”
“I... Was he from my school?”
The lady shakes her head. “I don’t think so. He never wore a uniform like yours.”
“Do you know his name?”
The lady shakes her head once more. “His name was Park. Probably that’s his last name. At least that’s what is written on his name tag.”
And you internally groan. There are thousands of people with that last name.
“Do you know where he’s gone?”
“I’m afraid no, my dear. I heard he quit the job suddenly.”
Sighing, you thanked the lady before heading out of the cafe with your shoulders dropping in defeat.
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The trapdoor makes a loud creaking sound when you lift it up, indicating that it hasn’t been used for a very long time. Slipping the key back to your back pocket, you step up further on the ladder with the trap door laying on another side as you go through it while the floorboards creak underneath your weight.
It didn’t take you long to locate your old things. Scanning through the boxes, you find one doodled in various flowers and rainbows with your name written on it as well.
With a grunt, you lift up the dusty box, bringing it down to the floor with a thud which causes you to cough at the flying dust. In an attempt to swat the dust away, you wave your hand in front of you. Still coughing uncontrollably with your eyes watering. After your cough ceases, you crouch and open the box. A few notebooks can be found inside along with some old dolls from your childhood.
You vaguely remember the locked diary you liked to write in about your day and its pale pink cover which was covered in sparkling stickers you used to be obsessed with.
Digging further through the books, you finally found it — the possible answer to your lost memories — with a small key dangling on the lock.
Climbing down from the attic, you made your way to your room while fumbling with the lock and key of your old diary. After successfully unlocking it, you take a seat on your padded window sill, flipping through the yellowing pages.
The first page was clearly written by you. Your old handwriting and your name. The first entry you wrote dates back to a decade ago.
Your fingers twitch at how cringe-y most of the entries are. Yet, at the same time you find it endearing how you used to write about your day. The good, the bad, and the normal things — appreciating just to be able to experience and get through them.
The last of your entries date back to months before the incident when you were fifteen. Probably because you decided that you were too old to write diaries any longer.
Recalling how you’d always visit the cafe every Wednesday, you skim through Wednesday entries. However one particular name seems to stand out in those entries.
“Mochi?” You flip from one entry to another. Who the hell is that?
Deciding to get to the bottom of this, you search for the earliest entry that you can find — nine years ago.
I met the hot choco guy again, today. I’m feeling so happy!!! He is so nice. why can’t any of the boys in my school be like him????
Hot... Choco? Furrowing your brows, you skip to the next Wednesday entry.
i am feeling so happy that mama brought me to the cafe last last week!!! she do not let me drink the coffee drink, so Mochi give me hot choco! i think it’s the best BEST drink EVER!!!
“How the hell did hot choco guy turn into Mochi?” you mumble to yourself, flipping through your diary to the next Wednesday entry.
Mochi teached me how to do math!!! It was so fun! But when Teacher Lee teaches me, it’s always boring. How did Mochi make math fun??? I wish he go to my school instead and teach me math :(
You internally cringe at your younger self. Exhaling, you press your temple in disbelief.
This whole diary of your younger self is basically gushing over this hot-choco-turned-Mochi guy as you flip through other pages. However, you stop at a certain entry.
Today… Is a very bad day. But Mochi suddenly makes it better.
Glancing at the date — it was the day your grandmother passed away.
He promises to make me cinnamon rolls whenever i tell him to! Just like Grannie… I’m sorry, Diary. I don’t think i can write more today. I just hope tomorrow will be a better day.
“Mochi…” you mumble repeatedly with furrowing brows and the name seems to trigger your brain to relive some memories.
“I’m calling you Mochi!” You hear your own twelve-year old voice. Yelping, your diary lands on the floor with a small thud.
“No!” Another voice rings in your head — familiar and warm. “That’s a really uncool nickname.”
“But you look like a mochi! And it’s not uncool! I think it’s really cute!”
Blinking, your mind brings you back to reality. Reaching down for your diary, you freeze momentarily before clutching your head. For a moment, your heart stops when your gaze lands on your diary’s open page — a drawing of a familiar shooting star.
Mochi is… Jimin?
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[ when you were twelve ]
When another sigh escaped his lips, you glanced up from your math workbook — his face can only be described as perturbed. With no hesitance, you quietly pushed the last cookie on your plate to him, earning his glassy stare as it shifted from his notebook that’s lying open on the table.
He blinked a few times before clearing his throat. “Why didn’t you finish that? Do you want to bring it home?”
You shook your head, heat tinging your cheeks. “It’s for you. You look like you need it.”
“It’s caramel cookies.”
Nodding, you mumbled, “You said eating it can comfort people.”
The boy stared at you for a moment longer — recalling the time when you had a bad day and he gave you that, then he chuckled. “I guess I did.”
Pursing your lips, you nodded again. “I can order hot chocolate for you too.”
He reached for the last cookie, finally a small smile you have awaited appearing on his face. “This is enough, Y/N. I really appreciate it. Thanks.”
You beamed at his words, then you extended one hand to take his notebook and draw a shooting star on the page it was opened on.
“We can’t really see shooting stars in here,” you explain, pushing his notebook back to him. “So, whenever you’re having a hard time, wish on this shooting star! It represents hopes and wishes!”
“What that’s—” He stopped himself. Letting out a sigh, he found himself nodding despite how ridiculously endearing the idea was. “Alright. I will.”
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The blare of your alarm jolts you awake. Groaning, you grab your phone, turning off the alarm when you realise you have to go to work. You can’t find it in yourself to see Jimin today. Not after finding out that he was, is, part of your missing childhood memories.
Your gaze lands on the diary, laying open on your window sill. As you read more and more of your diary entries, Mochi being Jimin just makes sense. You remember how he went out of his way just to buy you hot chocolate when you were having a bad day — just like in the past.
After all this time, Jimin is actually part of, no, in most of your childhood life.
And he denied it.
Why?
You continuously drift back to that one question. Why did he deny it when you asked him? Don’t people usually love to get reacquainted with their childhood friends?
Sighing, you message Jimin listlessly, telling him you aren’t feeling well before you turn off your phone completely. You don’t think you can handle interacting more with him.
Hours passed, when someone barges in your room. “Y/N!”
Peeking out from your blanket, you glare at your best friend. “What the fuck, Kook?”
“Jimin told me you aren’t feeling well. So, I came to check up on you.”
“Okay, you did. Now, go back home.”
Without responding, he opens the curtain in your room, letting in the piercing sunlight and you let out an annoyed ‘tsk’.
Should have known your best friend isn’t going to let this go easily.
“What’s wrong with you? You’ve been off the whole weekend. You may be able to trick Jimin but you can’t trick me.”
Still burying yourself under your blanket, the bed dips on your friend’s weight as he waits for your response. But you keep your silence, trying your best to even your breathing. You’ve cried enough after all.
“Hmm?” Jungkook stands up. “What’s this? Your diary?”
Abruptly, you fling yourself off the bed and grab your diary from his clutches.
“Go home, Jungkook. I’m not in the mood to deal with this.”
“You know I won’t until you tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m just...” Your shoulders droop in defeat. “Why?”
“Why what?”
You hate crying in front of anyone. But it’s as if a dam broke, your tears do not stop falling while you babble, “Why did he pretend to not know me? Why did he deny? Why—”
Jungkook blinks repeatedly at your sudden change. “W-wait! Why are you crying? I don’t under—”
“Park Jimin!” Your sudden outburst flusters him further. “The guy who you’re friends with and who you recommended for me to work with! That’s who!”
“But—”
“He‘s Mochi.”
Jungkook looks dumbfounded for a moment before your words register inside his head. “M-Mochi?”
Like a petulant child, you climb on your bed once more and hide your diary beneath your pillow. “Leave me alone, Kook.”
With a defeated sigh, Jungkook trudges out of your room, leaving you once again drowning in your thoughts.
✧༺♡༻∞  ∞༺♡༻✧
Jimin has always loved mornings, especially when he is able to quietly bake on what most people would call ungodly hours. There is something enjoyable about being fully awake during this time when no sounds of passing vehicles can distract him, making him feel at ease.
He had started appreciating the little things in life when you — who once stared up at him with curious eyes, expression lightening up when he made a cup of hot chocolate for you — taught him to.
Chuckling to himself, his mind drifts back to the time you first entered his bakery. Gods, he should have known it was you. But you were so different, he could hardly comprehend how much you had grown.
Gone was your happy-go-lucky self. He was stunned when you suddenly snapped at him. Your younger self would probably respond with a smile and drone on about how much you love cinnamon rolls. For a second, his heart had hoped. Maybe you remembered him after all these years?
Yet that hope dissipated in an instant when you merely apologised and ran out. Moreover, you didn’t return to his bakery after buying the cinnamon rolls, he thought he had screwed things up by attempting to start a conversation with you. Or maybe that person wasn’t really you. Just someone who looks a lot like you. He still had his suspicions after all.
However, his suspicions were gone the moment you introduced yourself, leaving him speechless. Jimin would be lying if he said he didn’t hope — at least for a bit — that you would remember him when he mentioned his name.
That was why the moment you appeared once more to work as a part-timer, he was ecstatic. No words can explain it.
He started to look forward to work every day — coming to his own bakery to see you even when you didn’t remember him, but he would still gladly take whatever he can to be around you.
Once he sets the tray of unbaked cinnamon rolls into the oven, his phone buzzes. As soon as he reads the text, his heart drops a little.
[ 7:08 AM ] You: Sorry, I cant come to work today. Not feeling well.
He types, ‘That’s okay. get well soon, y/n :)’
But it left undelivered. Did your phone die? He wonders.
Jimin can’t help shake the weird feeling bubbling inside. So, he messages Jungkook.
[ 7:15 AM ] Jimin: y/n isn’t feeling well today. do u mind checking up on her ???
But of course, Jungkook didn’t read the message until a few hours later. That boy enjoys gaming all night.
[ 12:03 PM ] Jungkook: what?
[ 12:03 PM ] Jungkook: for real ?? since when does she get sick? that girl has a fucking high immunity. she never even once got a cold during the semester
Jimin furrowed his brows at that.
[ 12:04 PM ] Jimin: still, go check up on her pls. she’s ur friend too
[ 12:04 PM ] Jungkook: yeah, omw
It hasn’t even been an hour later when Jungkook rushes into the bakery — earning surprised and curious glances from the customers who were chattering among themselves. “Hyung—“ he catches his breath as he stands in front of the counter. “I think you need to fix—“ Huff. “—I mean go to Y/N’s house yourself.
Jimin blinks in confusion.
“You... You’re Mochi, aren’t you?”
At the mention of that name, blood drains from Jimin’s face instantly.
She remembers...?
“How did you—”
“What matters is, you need to fix it, hyung. You’re the only one who can. She’s not herself, right now. I've known her for a few years and it takes a lot for her to react like this. So, please, you should talk about it.”
“Okay,” Jimin breathes out. “Do you mind closing the cafe once the customers are all done?”
Jungkook nods. “Yeah, just go to her, hyung. I’ll handle everything here.”
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[ when you were fifteen: before the accident ]
“I wish you can teach me math all the time, Mochi,” you giggle, leaning back on the cafe chair. “Everything is easier when you explain it.”
Jimin chuckles at that. “I’m pretty sure you’re the one not paying attention in class.”
Shaking your head rapidly, you deny, “Of course I paid attention! It’s just... I don’t know… It was really boring when my teacher was teaching. He just drones on and on without stopping.”
With an amused hum, Jimin stands up. “I’ll get ready to leave. I’ll walk you home.”
After a few minutes, you head out of the cafe with Jimin behind you. Shivering against the cool night air, you draw closer to the boy. Instinctively, Jimin offers you his open hand which you accepted with no hesitance.
Little did he know, every time he does this, it makes your heart beat a little faster at the way your hand fits well in his. And you savour it.
The build up of feelings has been going on for a while now. Maybe a few months. You’ve developed a crush on him. Like, how can you not? Jimin possesses charming qualities that no one else has. Not to mention how kind and warm of a person he is.
Meetings in the cafe had you wishing they were dates instead. And you had to let him know.
And tell him you did.
He blinks at first, words sinking into him. Mochi, I think I like you. Like, really, really like you.
His cheeks are pink, you weren’t sure if it's from the cold or his embarrassment.
“I’m sorry.”
Of course. What were you expecting? He only sees you as a little sister.
“No, that’s okay,” you reply quickly, but your heart drops. “It’s just… You know, I wanted to tell you know because you’re really cool, Mochi.”
“Y/N… Listen, this is not a good time—” Abruptly, he stops, catching your wrist on his. “I want you to hide in the playground.”
“What?”
“Hide, please. I will explain everything later.”
You want to run away from him. But the pleading look on his face makes you listen.
“There he is!” You hear an unfamiliar shout.
Cursing under his breath, Jimin quickly pushes you under the slide. “Wait here.”
With your own ragged breathing, you struggle to keep yourself as quiet as possible, biting down a hiss from the sting of your scraped knees. Tears pool in your eyes as you wait, hidden behind one of the playground’s slides and out of sight of any possible passerby.
✧༺♡༻∞  ∞༺♡༻✧
[ Present time ]
Jimin reaches your house, his heart beating fast against his chest with a box of cinnamon rolls in hand.
You are home alone and Jungkook has left the door unlocked.
Letting himself in, Jimin glances around. Everything still looks the same as back then. He went to your house once to tutor you. And he still can remember that day clearly.
Climbing up the stairs, he reaches your room. With shaking hands, he knocks on the door.
Silence.
A moment or two passes then your door opens. Jimin braces for the anger you’d throw at him.
But nothing comes.
You merely stand there, eyes glassy as they lock on his.
“Y/N...” He mutters, torn between to reach out or not. But you leave the door open as you sit on your bed. Jimin enters your familiar room, still surprised at how it still looks the same. And his eyes fall on a notebook — the notebook you never let him read — on the table.
“Why are you here?” you ask, voice trembling.
“I wanted to check up on you—”
“Why?”
Jimin knows at once what you are asking.
He approaches you sitting on the edge of the bed. He kneels down, peering up with those chocolate eyes of his to meet your downcast stare — like those times when he wants to talk to you and you refuse to look at him.
“Do… Do you still remember me?” Your voice barely comes out as a whisper.
“Y/N…” The lack of surprise in his voice answers it. He still remembers you as you recall the once shocked expression on his face when you first introduce yourself. Now, it all made sense.
“W-Why didn’t you tell me?” A sob escapes your lips. “Do you not want me to remember—”
He shakes his head, denying it quickly. “No! Of course not. I just… I was ecstatic actually when it was you who came to work for me.”
“But why didn’t you tell me?” Voice cracking. “You knew me—”
Clearly in conflict, he sighs, “I don’t want you to remember your traumatic memories… Remembering me might cause you more pain.”
“But it didn’t. Those memories, from what I can remember there’s nothing—”
“That’s what your parents told me, Y/N.”
Eyes widening, you gape at him as tears cascade down your face.
“You were seriously injured back then. The doctor said it will be best for you to let your own memories come to you in their own time. And I had to leave this place... I came by after your operation and... I wanted to say goodbye but I was told it was best to not see you any longer to prevent anymore distress—”
“But you are important to me!” You cut him off. Then turning quieter, “You are important to me…”  You say between sobs.
Covering your eyes with your hand, you whimper when Jimin engulfs you in a hug. “I’m sorry…” He murmurs, caressing your head. “I’m so sorry…”
His heart breaks at your current state, tightening his hold on you, who’s crying into his chest. Years of buried regret and longing resurface. He had envisioned many times on how you would remember him. But he fails to realise how much it can hurt you when your memories return. If only he can turn back time, he will take that chance to save you from the misery of your memory loss.
Yet, all he can do now is to hold you close, begging you for forgiveness and hope that you’d let him stay by your side.
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“So, let me get this straight, you—” Jungkook points his straw at you. “—and Jimin hyung were childhood friends—” He pierces the plastic cover of his milk tea. “—and he used to tutor you in a cafe.”
Nodding, you purse your lips and enjoy your own drink.
You had taken a few days off after the reconciliation to collect your thoughts and confront your parents about what had happened. They have come into terms with their protectiveness of you staying out very late. And you have managed to convince them to let you stay out late as long as you let them know.
You were planning to stay in bed all day if it wasn’t for Jungkook who barged into your room like he owns the place, after he claimed that Jimin lets him off from work early — which you doubt honestly, it’s more of Jungkook escaping from work — and decided to drag you to the nearest milk tea shop.
“Is something weird?” you blurt out.
“Did you by any chance, I don’t know...” Jungkook mutters. “Have feelings for each other?”
You nearly choke on your tapioca pearl and rapidly you shake your head. “No! That’s—”
Jungkook narrows his stare at you, sipping his drink as you continue to blabber, “I mean, I knew him since I was like, what? Twelve? He never sees me that way.”
“Maybe he didn’t back then.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I mean both of you are adults now. Aren’t things different?”
You snort at his words. “He always sees the little girl in me, Jungkook. So, please, don’t make things weird, alright? I can literally see your head gearing.”
Jungkook lets out a sigh. “Alright, if you say so. But how about you?”
Sipping your drink, you lift a brow at him.
“Do you like him?”
“Of course, I do.”
“I meant like, like him.”
“Kookie, what are you? Five?”
He snorts at your response. “Five heads taller than you—” Your glare shuts him up. “Okay, but do you see him as someone special?”
An exasperated sigh escapes your lips. “Why are we discussing this? We’re just friends. Who coincidentally are childhood friends as well.”
“You sure?”
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sigh once more. “What are you expecting me to say?”
“What do you think of him?”
Almost at once, the words flow easily out of your mouth. “He’s a caring person and he knows how to comfort someone when they’re having a bad day.”
“You mean, he knows how to comfort you when you’re having a bad day yourself,” Jungkook chuckles.
You blink at that.
“Look, I’m not implying anything but he was worried as hell when I told him about you the other day. Even nearly left his bakery without supervision. That’s when yours truly—” He points at himself. “—came in.”
And the question that swims in the back of your mind disappears. “So, it is you, you overgrown rabbit. You told him about me—”
“Well, you can’t blame me. You should be thanking me instead. It’s because of me you both finally reconciled. Admit it, you’re happy — happier, in fact.”
And you can’t deny it. Jungkook has been one of those people who’d look out for you. Yes, even when he can be a pain in the ass sometimes, or just loves to hear the “piping hot” tea of what’s happening in your life.
Sighing in defeat, you murmur, “Even if I do like him...” You shake your head. “No, it shouldn’t even matter in the first place.”
Noticing your shuttering expression, Jungkook thankfully does not press the subject further. Nor does he question why. And you are grateful for him.
“Interesting. So, you do like him.”
Scratch that, your best friend is still a pain in the ass.
✧༺♡༻∞  ∞༺♡༻✧
Standing in front of the bakery cafe, you released a deep breath.
Through the glass door, Jungkook is helping out at the cashier counter, serving beverages and desserts to dine-in customers. However, Jimin is nowhere in sight.
Releasing a deep breath, the bell of the door rings which signals your entrance. Jungkook notices you at once before he points to the kitchen.
You rush inside — stopping abruptly a few steps away from him — now, regarding the man differently. He was the boy who has been your comfort for so many occasions after all.
Jimin is icing cupcakes, his eyes focusing on his task and you can’t help but smile at the sight.
With your memories — of kindness, warmth, and friendship — now fully returned, you remember how you were always enamoured watching Jimin work. You’d watch him make drinks in the cafe when you had no homework to do. You’d sit at the bar, munching on cookies-of-the-day as your eyes followed Jimin’s movements.
A few moments pass, Jimin’s gaze shifts to you briefly and double-takes. He curses under his breath, cupcake slipping from his grip — icing spilling on the marble counter. “Hey, you’re back—” He quickly grabs a cloth and wipes off the cream before he turns to face you properly, grinning from ear-to-ear. “—you didn’t tell me you’re coming in today.”
He opens his arms and your legs move of its own accord, following your instinct as you close the distance between you and him — wrapping your arms around his waist.
You weren’t surprised at how your younger self used to have a big fat crush on him. He was and always will still be your Mochi. The guy who treated you to your favourite sweets, who knows how you like your caramel macchiato the best, and who never fails to put butterflies in your stomach.
Breathing his sweet scent, you remember the time you’d ask him for hugs whenever you were down and your younger self had even claimed once that his hugs were magical as it was written in your diary. To quote it, “Mochi gives the BEST BEST hugs in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD”.
“Your hugs…” you mumble, eyes closed. “They’re still the best…”
Jimin merely tightens his hold on you. That is until a force — appearing in the form of Jeon Jungkook — shatters the serene atmosphere, bringing you back to reality. “Hyung! Oh—”
Abruptly, you both pull away from each other. Jungkook stands awkwardly, shifting his weight from one leg to another.
“What is it?” Jimin breaks the silence, composed as ever.
“Uh, need more cupcakes. The ones on the display are finished…”
“Right,” Jimin turns to you. “Y/N, can you help me ice the rest of the cupcakes?”
Nodding, you turn to the employee’s room, putting your things in the locker and grabbing an apron.
Hugging Jimin seems so natural that you fail to consider how weird it looks to the people around you. Jungkook’s awkward silence proves that.
Your thoughts are swimming in confusion. And once again those butterflies appear in your stomach. Fanning your heated cheeks with your hands, you take a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm your racing heart.
Your childhood crush is gone. You’re just happy to have Mochi back in your life. That’s all. That should be all.
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One afternoon, you mindlessly clean up the kitchen. Due to the public holiday, the bakery is closing earlier, and your thoughts have drifted back to the past.
You remember the night of the incident when Jimin walked you home after he had lost those men who chased after him. He stopped you for a moment, breaking the silence. “You okay?” Warm concern lacing his tone.
Jaw clenching, you mumbled. “Just a scratch.” Reluctant to give him any longer response.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have shoved you harshly before.” He crouched, inspecting your knees before he peered up to meet your stare.
“It’s fine.”
When you were just a few blocks away from home, Jimin broke the silence. “Listen Y/N—” His footsteps faltered as he reached to touch your shoulder. “—about earlier, I think you shouldn’t have feelings for me, I—”
Abruptly, you pulled your hand away from his, hurt consuming you. “I shouldn’t have feelings for you?”
You wished Jimin had forgotten your spontaneous confession as he nodded, hesitantly.
“Well, I can’t control my feelings. So, just let it be. It’ll be fine.” You glanced at him before walking faster.
The rest of the trip home was tense, full of unanswered questions. Who were those men? Why did they chase after Jimin? Is it really that bad to have feelings for him? Who gave him the right to dictate your feelings?
You felt so childish back then. Recalling the memories makes you cringe at your younger self for overreacting. But you suppose it’s normal for a fifteen year-old girl. And you were able to sense that Jimin wanted to ease the tense atmosphere. But you were too hurt to even give him a chance. You needed time to process what happened that day.
However, one minute Jimin had stopped you again, desperate to appease you. And the next minute, someone ran towards him with a bat in hand. It’s as if time slowed down, you moved before a harsh impact landed on you.
Your mind brings you back to reality, and instinctively you touch the part where your head was struck with your free hand.
“Y/N? Are you done cleaning up?”
Jimin’s voice startles you and you nearly drop the mop’s handle from your grasp.
“Yes,” you manage to say. And somehow you can’t look at him in the eye.
“What’s wrong?” Out of instinct, he cups your face to look at you in the eye. And hell, your heartbeat gradually increases as you can smell the sweet scent of bread from him along with a tinge of his cinnamon scent.
Mind blanking out at the close proximity, the only intelligible response you can say is, uhhh. Your grip on the mop handle tightens as your palm grows clammy.
He’s gorgeous. That’s one thing for sure.
“Hey, why are you blushing?”
Blinking rapidly, you watch his eyes turn into those crescent moons and a giggle escapes his lips as he pulls away, grabbing the mop from your hold.
“I’ll put this back. You nearly snapped it in half, you know.”
“Yeah,” you nod, mind whirling and you blabber the first thing in your mind. “I have a pet fish.”
“Huh?”
Realising how random you sounded, you clear your throat. “I just remember I had to come home early today, since Mr. Goldy is waiting for me.”
“Ooh, that’s—”
But you’ve run for the lockers, quickly changing out of your work attire.
“Thanks for today, Mochi. See you tomorrow!” You say and run out of the bakery without sparing him another glance.
✧༺♡༻∞  ∞༺♡༻✧
“What are you exactly doing here?”
Unflinching, you answer your best friend monotonously, “Buying a fish.”
“You don’t have a tank at home.”
“Exactly, that’s why I’m looking for one now.”
“But why?”
“Why not?”
Jungkook lets out a sigh. “You’ve been acting weird all week, Y/N.”
You ignore his words, eyes scanning through the fishes of different colours and kinds.
“Oh! These ones are pretty.” Jungkook comments, earning your attention.
“Excuse me?” You call one of the workers there. “I was wondering if this fish is suitable for beginners.”
The worker nods, smiling. “Yes, these are what we call the Betta fish. Their scales are beautiful and they are also easy to take care of. Would you like to purchase them?”
You respond with a brief ‘yes’.
“Now, all you need is a tank,” Jungkook says.
“We provide delivery services for the tank. I’d recommend buying this one.” The worker points at one of the tanks. “In the meantime, you can purchase the fishbowl for now.”
And with that you have a new pet fish and a brand new fish bowl in hand — specifically Jungkook’s, because you gotta put those muscles into good use — and you head back home. On the way back, Jungkook suddenly clears his throat. “So… What’s up with you?”
“What?”
“Let me summarise what just happened,” he says. “I had the day off today, and suddenly you called me to meet you in a fish store, and you have been acting all weird and somehow out of all the nice shades of blue fishes in the tank, you chose the ugly yellow—”
You kick his shin in retaliation. “It’s not yellow, it’s gold, dumbass. How dare you say that in front of Lady Goldilocks.”
“Oh, wow, now it even has a name.” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I seriously can’t believe you chose this one out of all the other colours. It reminds me of Jimin hyung—” And he gapes at you. “No way. Is it because he likes this colour?”
You blink in realisation. Jimin does like this colour.
“Okay, ‘fess up. What’s up with you?”
You let out a defeated sigh. “I like him.”
Jungkook looks unamused.
“I mean like, like him. And I need to get over him.”
Jungkook furrows his brows. “Why would Hyung want that?””
“I shouldn’t like him, Kook. He told me once and, I don’t know, I just can’t control my feelings. I don’t want to lose him again and I’m scared that he’ll be gone if he knows—”
“Wait, wait, wait—” Jungkook grasps your shoulder with his free hand. “—I can understand what you’re feeling, Y/N. How about let me prove to you that Jimin won’t be gone even when you have feelings for him?”
“I swear, Jeon Jungkook, if you utter a single word about this conversation—”
“No!” He denies repeatedly. “I won’t. Promise. I can prove it to you another way. Don’t worry.”
“Okay, then. How?”
“I have a plan. To take the title as your number one best friend once and for all—”
“Who says you are even at the top?”
“Aren’t I? You told me once.” Jungkook fishes his phone out of his jacket, taps a few times on his screen before he shows you a video of your drunk self a few months ago after exam week.
“Kookieee, I think you’re my number one best friend! So proud to have someone like you in my life—”
You try to reach for his phone, cheeks burning in embarrassment, as you shoot him the nastiest glare you can muster. However, Jungkook being Jungkook merely cackles at that. Your voice from the video still continues, “—you’re like Mochi—” Your present self tenses at that.
“Who’s Mochi?” Jungkook asked curiously in the video.
“Shhhhh… We don’t speak of that name here, m’kay? Mochi is gone. So you are best friend number one!”
Jungkook stops the video, tucking his phone back to his pocket. “I asked you once who Mochi was when you were sober. But you didn’t remember back then. So I never asked again until you mentioned the name ‘Mochi’ once more a few days ago.”
Gaping, you stop walking as the stunned silence falls over you.
“I think your subconscious had always known about him. And it shows how special he is to you.” When you’re about to deny that, Jungkook shushes you. “Don’t try to deny, Y/N. Even before you knew he was Mochi you already liked him.”
“I hate that you’re starting to look like a rooster. Were you always this cocky?”
Your best friend merely shrugs. “So, here’s the plan. As I was saying, with my ‘number one best friend’ title under threat, we’re going to demote Jimin as your boyfriend! It’s a win-win situation!”
“What? I never even asked for him to be my boyfriend but wait— Don’t you mean promote?”
“Y/N, as much as I love your dumb ass, you tend to be quite demanding with people. Hopefully, he knows how to handle your present self.”
“Jeon Jungkook, please don’t make me regret this.”
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A few days after the conversation with Jungkook, the boy gets to work as fast as possible, and by work, it means work to get on Jimin’s nerves instead of actually being helpful in the cafe.
Jungkook has become noticeably clingy, or overall, just more touchy with you. It’s not like it’s anything new in all honesty. Throughout college, the relationship between the both of you is purely platonic. Your other college friends knew this and seeing the both of you cuddle wouldn’t be a strange sight. Jimin, however, isn’t one of your college friends and Jungkook seems to have taken advantage of this. Thus, he begins to work in the bakery almost every day, claiming just to see you.
At first Jimin showed no reaction since Jungkook is a good friend of his. But he has grown visibly irritated lately while Jungkook revels in pressing the older one’s buttons further.
“Jungkook…”
“Hmm?”
“Can you please stop invading my personal space?”
“But it’s not going to work if I don’t— Oof!” You shove him away before going back to your task — placing the cupcakes on the display tray — annoyance building up at Jungkook’s disruptions.
“I’m going to file a restraining order on you at this rate.”
He huffs, moving towards you once more. “Don’t you want to prove that Jimin is going to be pissed if he sees me being affectionate to you?”
You shake your head. “I just want to work in peace.”
“Hmph. You’re no fun.”
“Cuz you’re the one not working.”
“Hey, I’m helping here voluntarily.”
You ignore his words, focusing on your task while Jungkook starts whining for you to give him attention. “Kook, I fucking swear if you don’t get your hands off—”
Jimin’s voice rings “Y/N, are the cupcakes...” He trails as soon as he enters the kitchen, freezing at the sight of Jungkook wrapping his arms around your waist, snuggling his dumb head on the crook of your neck.
“He’s going to rage,” Jungkook whispers, laughing softly.
“Uh, Jungkook can I talk to you?” Jimin asks, eyes noticeably narrowing as his tone tenses.
“Finally,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, before he lets go of you and faces Jimin. “Sure, Hyung.”
You take that cue to leave, bringing the freshly iced cupcakes to the display counter, leaving Jungkook and Jimin alone in the kitchen.
✧༺♡༻∞  ∞༺♡༻✧
“What’s been going on with you lately? You come here to work everyday but all I can see is you busy flirting with Y/N.” Jimin throws the younger one an unamused glare.
Jungkook answers easily, “I do my job, Hyung. And so what if I do flirt with Y/N?”
“You can’t,” Jimin blurts out, earning a questioning look from Jungkook. “You just can’t.”
“Why can’t I?”
“Do you like Y/N?”
“Of course, she’s my best friend.”
Jimin shoots Jungkook another unamused look at his answer.
“I’m going to tell her how I feel in three days,” Jungkook continues.
Jimin’s stomach drops at that statement. However, at the same time the urge to let you know how he truly feels increases. But the thought of the impending rejection after hurting you and causing your memory loss makes him think twice.
Maybe Jungkook deserves you more than him — he can protect and support you while Jimin has failed.
With a shaky breath, Jimin mutters, “Take care of her, alright?”
Obviously, his response catches Jungkook off guard. “What?”
“Take good care of Y/N, JK. I’m seriously counting on you.”
“Wait—“ Jungkook looks downright flustered at the unexpected response. “Hyung, wait.”
“What?” Now it’s Jimin’s turn to be confused.
Jungkook clears his throat. “Just give me an honest answer, hyung. No lies.”
A pause.
“Do you like Y/N? As in more than friends?”
Jimin nods without hesitance.
Jungkook mumbles something under his breath that Jimin is sure it sounds like, freaking idiots.
“Go tell her how you feel, Hyung. And tell her as soon as possible.”
“But you—”
“It’s to push you to confess to her. I don’t see Y/N that way.” Jungkook sighs. “Honestly, what would the both of you be without me?”
Jimin stands in the kitchen, speechless, as Jungkook continues to ramble how significant his role is in between your relationship and how you and Jimin owe him so much.
“So, yes, go tell her how you feel, hyung. She’ll listen to whatever you’ll say.”
With a newfound resolve, hope sparks in Jimin’s heart. “I will.”
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To say that Jimin is nervous would be an understatement. He had barely slept a wink last night, thinking of all the words and how he would explain why he had left so suddenly and confess his feelings to you. Jungkook has been a supportive friend, even if he does push Jimin’s buttons along the way. However, Jimin knows that it was his own way of showing encouragement.
You are cleaning the rest of the tables of the cafe and Jimin can’t take his eyes off you, staring at you through the small window opening between the kitchen and the counter area.
“Are we done for today, Mochi?” Your voice snaps him out of his daydream.
“Yeah!” Jimin continues to wipe the kitchen counter quickly, replying almost too enthusiastically before he clears his throat. “Do you have plans tonight, Y/N?”
You enter the kitchen and once again Jimin’s heartbeat rises. “Nope. I’m going straight back home after this. Lady Goldilocks is waiting for me.”
Lady Goldilocks. Jimin chuckles at the mention of your fish’s name. He wonders if one day he’s able to see the pet fish for himself. He had asked what happened to Mr Goldy and you had become flustered at that since you didn’t know the fish was female. So, now, you have changed the fish’s name. Yet, somehow Jimin got an inkling that there is more to the story. He had asked Jungkook — to which the boy had valiantly refused to utter a word about it and had babbled, “Huh? Fish? What fish? Is that for dinner?”
Once the both of you finished closing up the bakery cafe, Jimin taps on your shoulder before you had the chance to go back home.
“May I walk you home?”
You blink, processing his words then nodding rapidly. “S-Sure.”
Jimin smiles warmly at you. It’s easy in fact. Just being in your presence always brings happiness into his heart. You had grown into an amazing person and even more attractive.
Something about you had always captivated Jimin since the first time you met him in the cafe where he used to do his part time work. Your curious eyes were always following him as he took the customers’ orders and honestly, it was very endearing.
Comfortable silence falls upon you both, walking through the asphalt pathway and naturally, Jimin opens his palms, extending it towards you.
You stare at that for a moment and clasp his hand with yours. Jimin weaves your fingers together, bringing you closer to him as you continue to walk back home.
“Do you mind if we take a little detour?”
You nod at his words.
Once Jimin reaches the destination, he can sense your eyes glance curiously at the empty hill. He pulls you up onto the top of the hill, sitting down on the grass while he pats the space next to him and you follow suit.
“Look up,” Jimin whispers, and you did.
A quiet gasp escapes your lips at the sight of twinkling stars that scatters across the dark sky.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Jimin voices out. “Someone made me realise how beautiful the stars are…” He falters. “A-And she had never left my mind all those years. One of my deepest regrets is that I wasn’t able to say goodbye when I had to leave.”
You hear his words, yet you stay silent — an encouragement for him to continue to speak what’s on his mind.
“My family was in a difficult financial position back then and my dad had done things I wasn’t proud of…” Jimin’s eyes turn glassy and faraway, even when he sets his gaze up. “And one of them is that he had made a deal with loan sharks without the guarantee of paying them back… And of course, they were angry.”
He pauses, taking a deep breath.
“I once thought that probably I could still stay here back then. Even more so when I met you. But I was wrong. Those men started to chase after me and because of that, you—” He shudders. “—got injured. And that night my parents had made plans to leave without me and my brother knowing.”
He turns to look at you. “I never got to apologise to you for causing that. I should be the one to protect you but… I failed. For that, I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
“Jimin…” You say softly. “It’s not your fault. I was the one who jumped in front of you when the man came after you. It’s my own choice because you are special to me.”
“But I could have—”
You shush him with a pointer finger in front of his lips for a few moments. “You don’t have to be sorry anymore, Mochi. It’s not your fault. And what matters now is to focus on the present and look to the future, right?”
He nods, emotions swimming inside his chocolate eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“I thought—”
“For telling you that you shouldn’t have feelings for me.”
And you lapse into silence. He remembers…?
“I hate that that has hurt you. I shouldn’t have said that. But I was happy but desperate too since my family—”
“Jimin.”
“Y-Yeah?”
“What do you see me as, now?”
He blinks. All the practiced words on how he would tell you his feelings dissipate from his mind as he blankly stares at you. “I… I like you.” His voice grows quieter. “More than friends…”
“And if I said you shouldn’t have feelings for me?”
A flash of hurt crosses his eyes briefly. But he answers, nonetheless, “I would do what you want.”
“So, you reciprocate my feelings now?”
“H-huh?”
“I like you too. More than friends. In fact, I think my feelings have grown for you ever since I found out you’re Mochi.”
It takes a few moments for Jimin to process your words. He gapes, mouth opening and closing.
“You are resembling Lady Goldilocks right now.”
“What?”
Your cheeks flush. “Lady Goldilocks is a Betta fish. She was the golden one in a tank full of her blue siblings. Jungkook tried persuading me to choose the blue ones since they were more attractive to look at. But all I could see is the gold one since it reminded me of you.”
“I like golden colours…” Jimin mumbles in realisation.
“Exactly,” you let out a sheepish laugh, eyes turning to look back up into the sky. Before Jimin can respond, your eyes brighten up. “Look! A shooting star!”
Jimin snaps his gaze up as well.
“Hurry, make a wish!” You then close your eyes, smiling from ear-to-ear. Jimin follows suit, making his own wish.
As soon as you both finish making your wishes, you turn to face him once more.
“Are you still sorry for saying that to me?”
Jimin nods, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. Hell, he thinks he would always regret hurting you that time.
“I know how you can make it up to me then.”
“Yeah?”
“Kiss me.”
“W-What?” He splutters.
“Unless you don’t want—“ Yet, your words die on your throat as Jimin moves closer to you, eliminating the distance between you both as he cups your face just like that time in the bakery.
Without another word, he leans down, pressing his lips on yours softly while you place your hands on top of his before he presses further, brows furrowing as he kisses you fervently. For the time being, all that matters is just you and him. He caresses your cheeks and you run your hands down to wrap around his waist until you can feel his heart beating against his chest.
After pulling away — both of you catching your breaths — Jimin presses his forehead against yours, running his thumb over your lips while you were unable to open your eyes for a few moments at the burst of emotions that is coursing through you.
“I’ve imagined this moment so many times,” he admits. “My wish finally came true.” And you smile at that.
“My wish also came true because of you, Mochi...”
✧༺♡༻∞  ∞༺♡༻✧
Sitting on one of the tables, your eyes can’t take themselves off Jimin as he serves customers. Today is your day off and you decided to pay him a visit in the bakery.
“You’re drooling.”
Your gaze snaps up to your best friend who sits across you after placing a cinnamon roll on the table for you. Jungkook continues, “I swear I’m going to vomit one of these days if I see you or Jimin hyung throwing each other— what was that called? It’s an old term— Oh! Goo-goo eyes one more time.”
“Shut up, Jeon. I’m not.” You reach for the roll, taking a bite.
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah right, you basically either stare at him like he placed stars in the sky or like you want to tear off his clothes—”
You choke on the roll, quickly reaching for your glass of water before you throw your napkin at his face. Jungkook cackles at that before he resumes his act, sighing. “This is a mistake. I shouldn’t have intervened. I didn’t know you’d be like this. My best friend is so uncool now.”
“Y/N is what?” You perk up at Jimin’s voice.
“Whipped,” Jungkook mutters before he takes his cue to leave. He stands up, passing by Jimin after shooting the older one a teasing glance.
Jimin sits across from you, and he instinctively reaches for your hand on the table. “How was your day?” And you swear you can hear Jungkook making a gagging sound amidst the chatter of the customers.
“Good. I finished my chores at home earlier today. So, I thought I would come visit.”
Minutes pass by quickly as you chatter with Jimin. He had almost forgotten to go back to work until Jungkook reminded him. When it is time to close up the bakery, you watch him wash the remaining mixing bowls while perching on one of the cleaned counters of the kitchen.
“You know, I could use some help,” Jimin teases, drying his hands on his apron.
A smile curls up on the corner of your lips, eyes following his movements — drawing closer to where you are. “Well, I think you got it all handled, Mochi.”
Once he reaches you, he pulls you to wrap your legs around his waist while your arms rest on his shoulders — encircling around his neck. You both stare at each other and he pushes a strand of stray hair away from your face, tucking it behind an ear while his other hand settles on your waist.
“Sometimes, I still can’t believe that you’re really here with me,” You admit. “Just like a sweet dream.”
Jimin shakes his head. “It’s not, Y/N...” He leans to give you a chaste kiss. “... we’ll make up for the lost time we didn’t spend together.”
“Promise?”
He softly smiles at you. “Promise.”
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author’s note: this was originally intended to be posted on jimin’s birthday but well i decided to add more stuff in it. thus, i am late alskflsdda so yes, i hope you guys enjoy this fic and feedbacks are always appreciated !! thank you for reading ♡
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