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boygiwrites · 7 months

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Harley D. Dixon 23

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📖Chapter List.

Author's Note.

Warning for strong themes of suicide in this chapter because of Beth, and well, everything else.

Herschel left the farm all by himself while we was out.

As the sun sets behind the porch railing, Lori explains to Rick and Glenn that Beth's in shock — the thing I was in this morning. She tries to mutter it under her beath, but I hear just fine that she tried to kill herself by slicing her wrists up. Different to how Momma did it, but I know just about every way there is, and that's one of 'em. If I were Beth, I would'a just jumped out the window. Prolly would'a worked, but maybe she didn't want it to. Lori and Patricia found her just in time to save her. She's laid up in bed now, apparently still staring at the wall.

Rick keeps glancing at me throughout the whole conversation. I don't know why he's doin' it, but I wish he'd cut it out.

Herschel told us today he'd learnt what grit was, but I guess he ain't learned enough to deal with his daughter wantin' to die, 'cause he hopped in his truck and took a trip to town to get away from it all. Maggie begs the two of 'em to go bring him back, and they agree.

"You got any guesses where he might'a gone?" Rick asks, putting his hat back on. Always savin' people. "Parks, stores, houses?"

"Hatlin's." She answers unhappily. "Bar on main street. He practically lived there in his drinking days. If he's gone anywhere, it's there."

I can't imagine Herschel in a bar. My Daddy and Uncle Merle used to rot away in bars when they was angry or sad, but that was them.

Rick must be thinking the same thing. "I didn't take Herschel for a drinker."

"He gave it up the day I was born." She half-smiles. "Didn't even allow liquor in the house... But not anymore, I guess."

"I've seen the place." Glenn assures her, holding her shoulder and turning to Rick. "I can drive us there."

"Okay." Before they turn to leave, he murmurs to Lori, "Does Daryl know 'bout Beth yet?"

She shakes her head and glances at me, too.

He warns her, "Well, you're gonna want to. Harley's been havin' a tough go of it and I ain't sure how this is... gonna affect her."

She gives a look of understanding. "I'll go talk to him now."

When he comes down the steps, he crouches in front of me. He's got his Dad-face on, the one that's all nice and reassuring.

"Hey, you did good today." He tells me. "How 'boutchu go find Carl and read some comic books together or something for a while?"

"Alright." I lilt, watching him gently clap me on my shoulder before following Glenn down the path toward the cars.

But as soon as they're gone, I don't go find Carl. I take myself around the side of the house and slouch between two old barrels in the grass, hiding from everyone. I've gotten real good at swallowing down the need to cry, so that's what I do. At some point, the darn ringing returns.

I wish some little animal would cross paths with me, so I could take my knife out and stab it dead. That'd make me feel better.

Merle would smack me if he saw me like this. Don't cry, Harley. Don't cry. Been a long, long day, but you don't gotta cry.

The sun soon disappears under the earth.

"Sh, sh, sh. Baby, it's okay." The night is quiet, but our little tent is filled with my pent-up sobs. "It's okay."

I wish I could go to sleep like everyone else, but I can't. The day's finally caught up with me. Rick and Glenn still haven't returned, but the farm's been a mess without 'em all the same. Dad's been watching me like a hawk since Lori spoke with him, and dinner was spent in silence, and I been trying not to cry for hours. He keeps crooning the same thing to me over and over. It's okay. I hear that stupid lie every time things aren't okay. It don't get any more okay-er no matter how hard I bawl or scream into his shoulder, or wish with all my heart and all my body, right down to my toes, that I weren't such a little wuss. I wish Sophia was alive. I wish Shane made it to Fort Benning.

Seems I'm always hurting. If anyone asked me what I did best, I'd say this. Sometimes feels like all I was made for.

I did good faking my way through the day, but as soon as I laid my head down to go to sleep and realized that I couldn't no more 'cause of my ear, I finally broke. Can't shoot, can't hear, can't sleep. Everything, even the way I curl up at night, been stripped from me.

"It's not okay," I moan, hating that when I close my eyes, I can still see the things I don't wanna. "S'all wrong. It hurts."

"I know it does, chicken. But I'm 'ere. I'm always here." He murmurs into my hair, holding me even tighter to his chest. "Just get it all out."

I wanna tell him I can't, it don't work that way. If you could cry yer sadness out, I would'a lost all mine by now. But he already knows. Just like me, he's made up of sadness. Most people say we're alike 'cause our matching scowls, our little moles. But more than anythin', it's that.

I don't think I've ever been this type of angry before. There's just nowhere to put it. There's no-one to blame. It's just inside me. And I think it'll be there forever, like my bones are. There's no use being sour at Rick or Dad for killin' Shane. You can't get mad at people when there's no right or wrong to it, when they was just doin' what needed to be done. Shane was crazy, we've always said it. He done so many things he shouldn't have. No, I ain't mad at them for that. Or at Glenn, or T, or Andrea for helping 'em. Not at the bullet that shot my ear off, not at the Greenes' God for takin' all my friends away. I'm just angry at being alive.

"He said it was gonna be d-different this time." He said a whole bunch'a things, but that one I remember. "Daddy, I want it t'be different."

"It will be, baby. It will. I'mma keep you safe with everythin' I got, okay?" At least that one's not a lie. "You know that."

"But I'on care about me." I pull back, my fingers twisted in his tank top. "It's everyone else that's dead. It's Shane and Sophia a-and Momma and Merle and Morales and prolly Meemaw and Kyle and my cousins. I'm sick of it! Ain't no point in movin' on if people gonna keep dyin'!"

"Don't talk like that, Harley Dixon." He gently scolds, brows twitching into a frown. "Don'tchu ever. There is a point."

Well, I don't get it no more. "I ca-an't even sleep properly, Dad."

"Well, let's just try again. You can lay on yer other side." He offers. "Dad'll read you another story, huh? Or you want me to sing again?"

"No." I croak miserably. I don't want a story. I don't even want a song. "Even if I go to sleep, t-that's ruined, too. I get nightmares. And when I wake up, it's the same thing all over again. Eatin' scraps and cryin' and takin' ringing meds just for somethin' else bad to happen."

"That's the way life is, Harley." He tells me, a little stricter this time. "I can't change it any more than you can. People die—"

"People mourn," I quote him with a roll of my wet eyes, "Life moves on. I heard."

"Stop it." He don't like that I mocked him, not one bit. Not when it comes to this. "It's true. We move on. We keep livin'."

"Well, maybe I don't wanna. Maybe I'm done."

Herschel says I got a thing called grit. Dad says I'm his brave girl. Carl thinks I'm some sorta badass, but really I'm just a nasty, broken little thing called Harley Dixon. I don't wanna keep living if living's full of death. Maybe it's better the other way. Beth thinks so. Momma sure did, too. I never got to ask her if it worked out like she wanted and got all her sadness taken away, but I like to think it did. I like to think there's no bad things where she is, only good and happy things. She ain't watched Shane die. She ain't stood at Sophia's grave. She ain't hurtin'.

"Little girl," Dad's voice is thin and shaky like a whisper, but also very, very, very angry. "I know you ain't just said that."

I stare right back at him through my tears without a word, 'cause I did say that. Not to hurt him, but because it's the truth.

He slowly starts shaking his head. "Nah, I ain't raised you this way. I ain't raised a girl that gives up."

My wobbly frown deepens. "So that's what Momma was, then? She was weak?"

"Yes. Weak an' stupid." He says unapologetically. "And I won't have you talkin' like her. Over my dead body, girl, I won't have it."

"And how's that?" I challenge him. "You gonna make Sophia come back? You gonna fix my ear? You gonna make Shane—?"

"Weren't me that did that, Harley. Weren't Rick, weren't nobody but himse—"

"—Come back? You gonna kiss it all better and sing a song?" I taunt, shouting in his face, "They're all dead!"

"I know they are." He argues, taking a moment to suck in a breath. "I'm sorry I ain't find Sophia. I'm sorry 'boutcher ear. I'm sorry you're hurtin' and I can't do nothin' about it, but this type'a talk ain't what's gonna help you, Harley. It's bein' strong. You gotta be stronger."

"But I ain't," I tell him, and the tears are back now, streaming down my face, 'cause I'm right. I ain't strong. "I'm just nothin'."

"You're my little girl, is whatchu are." He says sternly, voice cracking. "I love you more'un anythin'. How you think hearin' that makes me feel?"

Probably makes him see the little traces of Momma on my face. Makes him feel like he's failing the same woman twice.

But I'm just so tired, and I just don't care. "I'on care how it makes you feel, Daddy. I'on care 'bout nothin' anymore."

Being empty must be worse than being full of somethin' like anger, 'cause this is the thing that really gets to him. Under his pair of twisted brows, his sharp eyes start to well up, his mouth curls into a sneer. The crickets outside chirp happily either way, dutifully filling the silence that comes. For the first time, I think my Dad is wrong about something. There is no point in moving on. Bein' strong, that's a waste. Shane said we deserve for things to go differently, go better in some way that ain't so cruel, but it didn't. It won't.

"You're fuckin' scarin' me, Harley." He utters thinly. "You ain't never talked like this."

I know. I ain't never stayed down after a hit, but I been strong for so long, I think it's just ran out.

I don't answer him. Instead I confess quietly, "I think I wanna go sleep in somebody else's tent tonight, Dad."

I need out this stuffy tent. If I could sleep alone in a hole somewhere, I would. I'm done arguing. And he's done, too. He wordlessly slides me off his lap and helps me gather my bedding, trying his best not to tear up more than he already is, muttering to himself, swiping at his eyes. He leads me back to main camp, where all the lamps are shut off and the fire pits are smoking. The night air cools my hot, red cheeks.

He taps his knuckles onto a crate just outside the Grimes' tent, and before he even steps back, there's shuffling inside.

The zipper peels back, revealing Lori's sleepy, moon-lit face. She takes us in with a confused look. "Daryl? What are you doing over here?"

"Listen, I'm sorry for wakin' ya." He murmurs, putting on a level voice. "Came to ask you if... Harley can bunk with you guys tonight."

"Uh, sure." She agrees kindly, encouraging me to step inside by my shoulder, taking my sleeping bag from Dad. "Everything alright?"

"No." He answers gruffly. No point in lying. He don't give up anything else, and she don't pry. He places a kiss to my hair. "Night, chicken."

"Night, Dad." I force myself to say back, 'cause I'm grateful he ain't just kept me stuck in our tent, and that he really listened.

As he gives me one last glance and then leaves, Lori zips the tent up and lays my bedding down next to hers and Rick's. Carl snoozes away in the corner, an open comic book splayed out over his chest. I bet Lori knows what's the matter with me. Rick saw that thousand-yard stare I had after they killed Shane, knows how I been hating myself. He no doubt told her everything. But she's too nice to say anything.

"Here, sweetie." She takes my lumpy pillow and sets it down. I wiggle into the sleeping bag. "Comfy?"

I give a nod, even though laying on my back feels real strange and I don't got Matilda anymore.

She smiles blearily and crawls back under the covers. "Wake me up if you need anything."

And that's that. I stare up at the sky through the Grimes' tent, counting the stars through the black mesh until I fall asleep.

Sometime during the night, I bolt awake, sweating, crying, confused. Shane, I couldn't save him. I watched him die. Again. A gunshot, blood, shouting, dying, searing pain and a dog tag dangling from a broken mirror. Darkness, and then two little hands on my shoulders, shaking me. A boyish, worried voice telling me, hey, it's just a nightmare. I cling to them. Carl. He's here. I don't think before I let him hug me. I sniffle into his neck as he pets the soft spot between my shoulder blades like his Momma and Daddy do when he's upset.

"It was him again," I shudder. "Shane. I miss him. I miss all of 'em."

Life moves on, Daddy said. But how's it that mine ain't? When's that moving part happen?

"Me, too." His arms tighten around me as much as a boy's can. "You're allowed."

After that, I remember the sound of blankets shuffling, a flashlight clicking on, a comic book being quietly read to me. I remember my eyes closing, heart slowing, and I remember thinking he's gonna be the best big brother one day. In a way, he already is.

The next morning, my eyes flutter open to the sight of a quiet, empty tent. By some miracle, I must've slept in a little. I hear the fire crackling away outside, the clinking of spoons on bowls, muffled conversation. After taking a minute to yawn and stretch, I crawl out the tent.

"Ah, there she is." As I round the camping chairs, Dale sends me a warm smile. I take the seat next to him. "Just in time for breakfast."

I glance up at the second storey of the farmhouse, imagining Beth behind one of those pretty windows. I wonder how she feels about waking up this morning. I know I'm exhausted, and all I've done is open my eyes. Another day of eating scraps, crying, and taking pills. Ironically enough, Lori interrupts my spacing out by holding out two little white capsules and a water bottle to me. She's speaking, but I'm not hearing her. I throw both pills back and wash 'em down so I don't gotta look at 'em any longer. I hate that my body can't work on its own anymore.

"Harley." Lori's voice comes quick and sharp this time, startling me. "Are you listening?"

I glare up at her. She's standing so close to me that I don't know how I couldn't hear what she said the first time. "Huh?"

She looks at me like I've done something strange. "I said, 'You can't take those on an empty stomach'. Are you hungry?"

"Oh. Yeah." Now everyone's lookin' at me like that. I reach under my hair and nervously tug on my ear as she turns and fills a bowl with the creamy soup cooking over the fire. I've never not been able to catch what someone's saying like that. She hands the food to me. "Thanks."

As conversation picks up again, I struggle to pin certain words being said, especially when they're from Andrea, who's sitting the furthest from me, and Lori, on my left. S'like half the world's gone silent, and the other half's just a high-pitch squeal. God, it's makin' me mad. I claw at my ear again, as if there's somethin' stuck in there, like a wad of earwax or a cork, but there ain't nothin' in there but the ringing.

A scary thought crosses my mind. If you can't hear for no good reason, that means you're deaf. I can't be deaf.

When Andrea looks directly at me and says something that I think's meant to be a joke, I snap back, "I can't fuckin' hear you, Andrea."

Her smile drops pretty fast, but I don't feel bad. I feel frightened. To my surprise, I don't get told by anyone to mind my language.

Lori just looks at me all pitiful-like and hesitates to guess, "Is it the ringing?"

I'm tired of hearing about the ringing almost as much as I'm tired of hearing the ringing itself. "It ain't the damn— I just can't hear proper."

She glances side-long at Dale. "Herschel did say..."

He sighs, looking a little stressed, before scooting his chair closer to mine and clicking his fingers on my right ear. "What about that?"

It sounds like a far-away thud, thud, thud, where it should actually sound like a snap, snap, snap.

"S'dull." I mutter unconfidently.

He moves to my left ear. This time, there isn't even any thud, thud, thud at all. It's just silence.

When I say nothing, he leans back. "I'm no doctor, but... It seems very obvious to me."

I'm not a doctor neither, and neither is Lori or T or Andrea or Carl, but it's all rather obvious to us, too. I can tell, 'cause they're all lookin' pretty uncomfortable, like this discovery has already ruined the rest of my life as I'm just sitting here. I'm losing hearing in my left ear. That's what it is. As soon as Dad mentioned my hearing to Herschel, and when it got worse at shooting practice, I was scared this would happen.

Ain't nobody shocked. I was never gonna walk away from a gunshot to the side of the head with all my hearing intact.

I guess whenever somebody talks, I'll just have to try reading their lips.

"I had a teacher who was deaf." Carl offers this up like it means anything. "She was really nice and smart. Everyone liked her."

I almost feel like scoffing at him, Wow, thanks so much, Carl. You've cured me.

"It's really nothing." Lori's quick to reassure me, covering for his shitty attempt. "Hundreds of people live like this and they still thrive."

"Hell, I think I'm going deaf sometimes, too." Dale jokes. "And I'd say I'm doing alright, wouldn't you?"

"Sure, Dale." I try to chuckle, staring down at my cold soup.

Nobody mentions the fact that having sharp senses is what keeps you alive nowadays. If a walker sneaks up on me, I won't hear it.

It's then that Dad walks into camp, looking nearly as tired as I feel. He mutters a good morning to everyone, and Lori reluctantly stands to go collect my bedding for him. I waste no time hopping out my seat and going over to hug him, locking my arms around his neck as he kneels to hold me close. I said a whole lotta things last night, and so did he, but I don't think either of us is angry at the other over it. We can read each other well enough to know. He kisses my cheek before pulling back and taking my things from Lori.

Clearing his throat like he does when he might cry, he asks me, "You sleep well, chicken?"

Instead of answering, I just hug his waist and Lori changes the subject. "Daryl, just a heads up. That thing Herschel spoke about..."

"Damn it." He sighs when what she's implying clicks. He reaches down to soothingly pet my hair. "And they still ain't back, are they?"

"No. But we both know Harley and Beth are... in some type of way. We need him."

"And y'all want me to go and fetch him, huh?" He guesses, taking a long moment to consider. Then, "Y'all be grateful you been good to me."

"Thank you, Daryl." She exclaims. "Thank you. We've always been able rely on you."

He scoffs. "Maybe not always."

"Well, enough." She smiles. "They said they were headed to a bar in town called Hatlin's. I think you'll wanna head there first."

"There even gonna be anythin' he can do?" He mumbles so I can barely make it out. "I mean, the guy ain't David Copperfield."

"Well, in the old world, I might've suggested trying out a hearing aid, but now... I'm not so sure."

He grunts. "Them things need batteries, don't they?"

"I think so, but not any standard ones we'd have. You're thinking of finding one, aren't you?"

"I'd turn the whole fuckin' country upside down to get her one, if it's what she needs." He says. "Maybe some old dead guy's wonderin' around with his. Maybe I find one in a doctor's office. Either way, ain't no bill attached to 'em these days and if there's one out there, I'll find it."

She admires the determination in his eyes, lips twitching into a smile. "Rick will help you. I know he will."

"Best I go find officer goody-two-shoes and company, then." He agrees. "Look after my girl for me."

She nods. "That goes without saying."

"I love you, baby." He tells me, which is how I know I done messed up. Takes a lot for him to randomly tell me he loves me, and I guess all that talk last night about giving up was enough. He even places another kiss to my cheek, pinching it after. "I'll see you later."

"I'm sorry, Dad." I mutter.

"I know." He understands I can't help what's happening to me, or how I feel. "I'm gonna get whatchu you need. It's gonna be alright."

I'm not quite sure what I need, but at least the adults seem to know. At least some part of me can be saved.

After he leaves to put my bedding back in our camp, I climb back into my seat and watch the blue truck bumble down the drive and eventually, through the trees. Dale encourages me to finish off my soup in that annoying way my Dad always does, but I only eat a spoonful or two before my stomach shrivels distastefully and he tells me I've tried enough for this morning, so I take to curling up and staring at the fire.

I know if Shane was alive to see what he did to me, he'd be that word Lori likes to say, appalled. He never wanted to hurt me.

A hearing aid. It's one of them things I've never had to think about until now. If I had to go back a couple months and tell seven-year-old Harley, with her long, straight hair and chubby cheeks and bright, green eyes, that I look like a boy, got half an ear, and need a hearing aid, I think she'd hit me upside the head for being a liar. But I know now that you gotta be ready for anythin', like dead people in barns and a last-minute gunshot, and now, I guess, the need for a hearing aid. I have to try squash that feeling of shame. It ain't good for me, but it's always there.

I almost make myself chuckle imagining Carl tryna make being half-deaf badass. He's so relentlessly supportive. They all are.

It's too bad, then, that I still feel this way. This numb and hollowed out, alive but-also-dead way.

The way Carol must feel, and maybe the way Dad felt after Momma died.

"Thank you." Maggie tells Lori and Jacqui in the kitchen, as I stand in front of the fireplace in the next room over. "This is nice of y'all."

I see what Glenn was talkin' about now, about Maggie's great grandfather lookin' like a bald Georgie Washington. He's sitting all proper and important-like inside a photo frame on the mantle, like all people from forever ago do. But there's also newer photos, ones with color, like Maggie and Beth as little girls, posing with horse riding trophies and smiling together at old Thanksgivings and Christmases. I feel happy just looking at them. Baby photos, kind-looking people, school photos. We never knew the Greenes before, but I feel like now I might.

"We just thought you could use some help." Lori replies. "It's been a difficult time for all of us, especially Harley and Beth."

"I appreciate it. Sharin' your supplies, that means a lot these days. You wouldn't mind helpin' me toss it all together will you?"

"Not at all." Jacqui pokes her head around the arch and calls out, "Harley, you wanna come help Maggie finish cooking?"

With a little flinch, I turn to face the three women, remembering why we came here in the first place. We had some tinned vegetables and whatever else left over from breakfast, and Lori thought we'd offer them to Maggie, who's in the middle of cooking a meal for Beth.

"I guess." I hum as I head into the kitchen. It ain't like I got anything better to do. "What're you makin'?"

"Potato soup." Maggie pulls a few bowls from the worn cabinets with a smile. "Well, veggie soup, now."

"Hopefully Beth will feel a little better after a warm breakfast." Lori muses. "It always helped me."

All their words are muffled, as if I'm underwater and they aren't, but I can still just about make out what they're saying.

When Maggie places the bowls on the counter and sees me peering over the ledge, she chuckles. "Let me grab you a stool, huh?"

She grabs a mini wooden step-ladder leaning against the pantry, pulls it open, and sets it down for me. I step onto the lowest rung. She fills a bowl with water from the faucet and slides it in front of me, instructing me to how to rinse off the fat, muddy potatoes and lay them on the dry rag afterwards. It's an easy, mindless task. I get to work while they start slicing up the vegetables and opening the tins.

As Maggie scrapes carrot into the pot, she jokes, "I been makin' so much soup recently I think I forgot how to make anything else."

"Good thing we've taken a liking, then." Jacqui smiles. "I've never tasted a tater soup good as y'all Greenes'. You know your stuff."

Feels like I'm back at the quarry again, helping prepare our next meal from whatever scraps we had, listening to the women gossip.

"Pssh. I'm tellin' you, as kids, Beth and I loathed the day Wednesday came around and Momma'd make her famous potato soup." She scoffs, grinning at old memories. "She always put too much salt in, said it was good for us. But all it was good for was makin' us barf."

Lori makes a sassy face. "I'm taking it the recipe's been tweaked a little since then."

Maggie smirks. "Wouldn't be eatin' it if it hadn't."

"Must've been nice, growing up with food on the table that's straight from your garden."

"Yeah, it was. Fresh peaches and apples to take to school, home-made bread and the like. We've always lived this way."

"Pretty perfect, if you ask me." Jacqui agrees. "Me and my fiancé were always eatin' take away all the time. God, I miss it sometimes."

"A nice greasy burger sounds so good right now." Lori moans, like she can almost taste it. "Oh, and some curly fries on the side."

They all laugh. It's a little funny. I remember her back in the beginning, braggin' about how her family never ate fast food. Now look at her.

As the conversation drifts to more boring things, I find myself thinking about Beth again. We sure grew up different, but we got broken the same way, at the same time. We clearly been thinking about the same things. She was just brave enough to actually pick up a knife and do something about it. I wonder if she knows now her Momma and step-brother been dead a long time, that they weren't sick at all, and were just bodies needed mourning. The Greenes were a little late to that, but it's like Meemaw used to say, better late than never.

I wonder if Beth regrets what she did. She could be dead right now, in a mound of dirt right next to her Momma.

When I was littler, I used to think Dad could read my mind when I was thinkin' unsavoury things like this, and that he'd give me in trouble right away. I thought that's how it worked with adults and kids, but it ain't. I can think whatever I want and it's safe inside my head.

The potatoes get peeled and diced and thrown into the soup like everything else, and then my new job is to help wash dishes.

When we're down to the last few, Maggie says I should take the bowl of soup up to Beth, 'cause they've got this handled.

"Sure." I agree before hopping down, wondering why my heart's beating so fast all of a sudden.

The door to Beth's bedroom creaks open.

I don't bother waiting for her to give me permission to come in. I just creep in all on my own, because from what I've heard, she hasn't talked all day. Her room is exactly like I would'a guessed. Like something out a trendy teenager's magazine, with a nice white desk covered in perfume bottles and hair clips and crumpled paper and books, blonde pop star posters stuck to the walls, a fluffy, cutesy rug, a teddy bear thrown on the lounge chair sitting by the window. Even the Mp3 player Maggie was telling me about, laying forgotten on the floor.

I carefully set the hot bowl on her nightstand, but something keeps me curious, and I don't turn to leave just yet.

Beth's staring at the wall like they said. Not out the window or anything. Just at the wall. I can't imagine her humming sweetly and letting me borrow one of her shirts, giggling at something I said from the other side of the bathroom door. She looks like a totally different girl.

"I went into shock too, yesterday." I randomly muse. "Or at least that's what Rick said. He's the one with the cowboy hat."

I think I might still be in shock. I'm talking and walking around, but inside, I feel like whatever statue Beth's turned into.

"I ain't sure if anyone's told you about it, but you prolly heard the screamin'. The man my Daddy stabbed, Shane, he took me away. We got pretty far. Sometimes I think about what would'a happened if we got even further, but... he was meant to die. Some people just are."

At that, she breaks her gaze away from that spot on the wall and looks me right in the eye. "Do you think I'm one of those people?"

"I... I ain't smart enough to know." I say honestly, before an awkward pause takes over. "'Cause I was only in grade two, y'know."

Carl seemed to find that funny when I first told him, but Beth just looks uninterested.

"And you?" She hides her bandaged wrists under the covers when she catches me looking. "What're you meant for? Dyin', or somethin' else?"

"I think, um... All I'm meant for is suckin' up hurt." I confess. "Like, there's all this bad in the world, and when there's nobody left for it to go to, it goes to me. Maybe I'm just unlucky. Maybe I done somethin' wrong. That's how life is, my Daddy says. So if that's the 'something else', I think I'd rather just be the type meant for dyin'. That's what my Momma did. She was in pain, and then one day... She wasn't."

"She killed herself," Beth says as fact.

"Yeah." I mutter, feeling the weight of the locket crush down on my chest as I take a seat on the edge of the bed. "She did."

"Was she the sort meant for dyin'?"

"No. She weren't." That much, I'm sure of. "She was just meant to be my Momma."

Beth's pretty eyes gloss over as she says very dully, "Our Mom's dead, too. Right before I thought I was about to die, I imagined what she'd think of me when we'd meet in heaven. She'd be ashamed, I know. Somehow, that was so much worse than the thought of going to Hell."

"Well, maybe your God made sure you didn't die." I guess, hoping it's comforting. "Maybe he wants you to live for everybody else."

A tear beads up on her waterline before sliding down her pale cheek. "I just don't know what to do. I think I'm ashamed, too."

"My Dad says you just gotta be stronger, but I don't know how." I wish I did. "I'm sorry. I'd tell you if I did."

"It's okay." With a sniff, she sends me a tiny smile. "You know, you're kind. I can just tell."

That makes me smile back. Something about my rugged hair, my mean face, my missing ear must still be soft like it was before.

Author's Note.

Sorry for the longer than usual wait between chapters! I've been dealing with intense writer's block recently so it just took me a while to get this out, but I'm pushing through!

I hope you're ready for a familiar face to return next chapter! ;)

PS. I wanted to thank you all for the touching dms and messages I've received recently, both on here and on ao3. It's still so mind blowing to me that there are so many people out there who hold a special place in their heart for this story just like I do. I'm so grateful for you all :) 💙

#the walking dead #fanfic #daryl dixon #twd #twd fanfiction #rick grimes #angst #daryl dixon daughter #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #daddy issues #daryl dixon x reader #ao3 fanfic

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riddles-n-games · 6 months

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Can you write a headcanon about what types of tattoos each character would get? If they would get one…

Ok, but why did that remind me of the Tattoo Roulette game with One Direction on James Corden's late night show? Xander would be Niall, Nash would be Liam, Grayson would be Louis (the sassy mothertrucker) and Jameson would be Harry but much more willing and enthusiastic. Actually, I could see this happening on a very badly drunk edition of Drink or Dare.

youtube

Sure, I'll just do our main crew though. Here goes:

Nash-Personally, he really doesn't want one but if Libby asked he would. One of her fun suggestions would be a little cowboy hat on the base of his thumb. He thinks it's cute but for himself, he may just choose a motorcycle or a horse on his forearm. Something in black. Tattooing Libby's name would also be a must for him.

Grayson-This boy would be really against them but the only time he'd get them, very begrudgingly might I add, is if all his brothers wanted to get tattoos or because of a lost bet and he doesn't lose them often. He may get a dagger on his wrist. But, if he wanted something very personal, he would get a meaningful one that reflects a bit of the past and he would get it on his ribs, just to make it hurt, to punish himself for past wrongs like his haiku, the words Never Forget or Nothing Less Than Perfection. Although, for a bet, on a dare, his brothers (read: Jameson) would make him get a smiley face with I AM PERFECTION surrounding it on his abdomen.

Jameson-Wholeheartedly, this one would go all out and for fun probably pick something to go on his ribs even though it's the placement with the worst pain to get one since he has no self-preservation. Probably flames, maybe Ghost Rider. If he was one to already have tattoos, he'd probably have a bunch of stupid ones from like a dare or something. For some reason, one he'd get is a snake coiled around his wrist with the words from the Bible verse: Be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. In honor of Avery, he would get Heiress tattooed over his heart or something funny like Property of A Very Risky Gamble along his collar bone. But his girlfriend's actual suggestion is getting the word EXTRAORDINARY on his finger.

Xander-He'd say he want one without any thought whatsoever about the process he has to go through to get it but then when he gets in the chair, he'd chicken out and pass out. Insert Stiles Stilinski fainting gif here. Although, he actually wants a really cool cartoony classic robot design in color on his arm if he did.

Avery-She's not necessarily fond of the idea but would totally do it for a dare or get one with Jameson. Avery entertains the idea that if she ever did, she might get a key tattooed on the inside of her wrist or a chess piece (we all know which one; the queen). Other ones that feel like a good possibility include getting her mother's name in cursive with little postcards on either side or Hannah, The Same Backward As Forward. One that she would get to commemorate to her relationship with Jamie is Heads or Tails on her ring finger with a small penny on the underside of the finger.

Libby-She'd get one on the back of her neck saying Love Yourself, some fun finger tats that Xander, Max, and Avery helped her pick out and get Nash on her ring finger where the wedding band would go. Also, a cute cupcake with Stress Baker underneath it would be mandatory on her arm or leg. Maybe the top of her shoulder blade. She and Avery would design some sort of special tattoo that they'd get together at some point in the future.

Max-Straight up would get AUSTRALIA with a kangaroo on her foot because she's real like that and also a fanatic for that crazy place (honestly don't understand how she survived). She'd also get a blueberry scone in honor of Xander who couldn't get one for himself because of the fainting incident. Maybe a quote from the Bible from John or a Star Wars quote on her arm.

Hope this is what you were looking for along the lines. I could make a part two in the future. Thanks for the suggestion.

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yurisorcerer · 28 days

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If anime were appraised solely on their last episodes, Metallic Rouge would be pretty decent, but they aren't, so it isn't.

I'm not going to recap all the various little revelations and plot twists here because honestly who could possibly care? The gist is that the events of the preceding twelve episodes don't truly matter because everything was really just building up to this, a showdown between Rouge and her father figure Dr. Jung, a character who is barely in the show before this point (even in his hooded guise as The Puppetmaster), and who feels ancilliary to much of what the series was trying to do before now.

The actual events of this episode feel very random and I'd almost say fanficky? In isolation it's not a terrible finale but finales of course do not occur in isolation, when taken against the backdrop of everything Metallic Rouge could've been, and indeed *actively tried to be.* The Neans' plight doesn't matter because the entire thing was orchestrated by Doc Jung, which he demonstrates in a long monologue that comes off as trying way, way, wayyyy too hard to make this boring cutout of a Super Intelligent Chessmaster type character seem interesting. If the show had just focused on this from the start instead of interpolating like four unrelated plots along the way, it might've worked a lot better, but it's inherently hard to know.

It would certainly feel less distasteful. I cannot get over the fact that this series treated "serious examination of discrimination and a moral question over the ethics of armed struggle," regardless of its (deeply shitty and unbelievably milquetoast) conclusions, as just another hat it could put on and take off at will. None of it ends up mattering! At the last minute Rouge just decides to free the Neans, because *now* she thinks it's the right thing to do. If we were going to build Rouge up as some kind of liberator and savior it would've had to start many episodes ago, and despite occasional toothless gestures in that direction it, really didn't. I hope fellow tumblr user @naomiortman doesn't mind me digging up the comments they left in the tags of their reblog of my last writeup on this show, because honestly, they're completely correct and get to the heart of the problem of why *this specifically* was a pose that the show should never have attempted to strike if it wasn't going to commit.

The whole thing is just very offputting!

And as for everything *else* the show tries to do, the genre-hopping was occasionally fun when it remembered to not be stupid about it, but that was really only a handful of episodes in hindsight and if someone doesn't feel that that's enough to make up for the show's *many* writing mistakes, I find it very hard to disagree with them.

And then there's the last couple minutes of this episode which....reveal at the end that Clown Robot Girl was secretly a Usurper all along and installed a virus turning all Neans into murderbots, which just completely threatens to saw the legs off what happened mere seconds before, and then it turns out to completely not matter because Gene installed an antivirus beforehand because he knew this would happen somehow? (Gene is a nothing of a character and is another reason this show's writing sucks eggs.) And thus Neans have freedom now, because of a completely unforeshadowed, last-minute minor plot twist that occurred offscreen.

This show is hilarious, and deeply unserious. My friend Sredni (@ihfsttinuf) also pointed out that apparently a bunch of this a wholesale bite of the end of RahXephon? I haven't seen that show so I can't comment, but like, lol. (EDIT: That's apparently by the same guy, by the way! So if anything it's self-plagiarism.)

Just so this entire post doesn't come off like an angry rant, there are a few things that work. Mainly the buildup of real, mutual trust between Rouge and Naomi. (Or maybe I just want it to work because otherwise this show truly does have nothing going for it on the writing side.) At the very least, it's delightfully gay, I like the visual of the two of them together inside Rouge's mindspace. Although even this comes with an icky side effect in that Naomi is now like, functionally dead as her own physical person. IDK man, any time I try to give this show credit for something I find another way in which it could have so easily done better.

Hey, at least they brought the dedicated combat theme back, that's good. And Cyan is right, Rouge's new form does look really cool. (Why did they feel the need to kill Cyan, by the way? You can't both have a shitty central narrative AND kill all your best characters.)

I don't want to come off as though I just completely hate the thing top to bottom. It was entertaining on a week to week basis, but in trying to do so many different things it just kind of does nothing, and I find it really frustrating for that reason. The visual aspect of the show remains compelling (I love the Gladiator designs, seriously), but I could never in good conscience recommend this to someone even if I don't "regret watching it" per se.

What a mess! Glad it's over.

#metallic rouge #yurisorcerer talks about media

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houndslayr · 2 years

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Save a horse, ride a cowboy Pt.1

Gender: M! Reader

Pairing(s): Kaeya x Reader

Warning: Cowboy au / rdr2 inspired type thing, Kaeya might be ooc since I dunno much about him

Summary: When a lone rider stumbles upon a beaten-up-looking Kaeya, deciding to take pity on him he helps the rough-looking man.

Words: 933

Recently started getting into rdr2 again (replaying the story for like the 5th time lol) and was like I want to make a cowboy reader fic with genshin so who other to pair a cowboy with than a Cavalry Captain? Also, I can't stop listening to mary on a cross from ghost :') Dunno how I feel about this fic

Fem aligned dni

[Not edited or checked]

The sun was beating down on the poor dark-skinned guy as he lays up against a large oak tree, bloody and beaten after a group of thieves ambushed him. While trying to fight them off his horse got spooked in the commotion bucking him off the saddle and sending him flying onto the ground, the thieves took advantage of that beating him to a pulp and stealing all his shit.

The sound of someone approaching where he lies was heard in the distance, with what little energy he has Kaeya looks over to see a massive cloud of sand and dust kicking getting closer to him. 'Must be a damn big horse if it's making all that big of an impact on the ground.' The battered man was indeed correct as a huge Percheron horse came from the smoke, its black coat shining in the sun as the muscles shifted with the power of its canter.

Kaeya could not see too much of the rider but all he knows is that with the horse and the outfit the cowpoke wears it looks like the grim reaper is coming for him. He closes his eyes hoping that the rider will just pass and not try to rob him as he has nothing left, his stupid Arabian horse ran off like the pussy it is. Much to his dismay, the cowboy stops right in front of him, how can he tell? The clunking of the colossal horse's feet is so loud that he can feel the dust blowing into his face and into his nose almost making him go into a coughing fit.

"Hey mister, you don't look so good..." A gentle but rough voice calls out to him as he opens one eye, the other covered by an eye patch. A deep county accent carries with the man in front of him, the cowboy's (s/c) skin gleams as the sun is right behind him making him look like an angel. Kaeya looks up and down the rider, a black mask donning his face along with a rugged hat. The rest of his outfit consists of red, black, and white, an pistol sits on top of a wonderfully made vest that looks mighty pricely.

A gloved hand snaps its fingers in front of his face, as he registered that the cowpoke jumped down and is now waving a hand in front of the dark-skinned man's face. "Howdy! Did you hear me, sir? Are you alright??" The ringing in his ears now dimming down a bit, as he shakes his head a meager 'no' as a response. Kaeya thinks that if he talked his voice would come out as barely a whisper.

A worried look flashes on the cowboy's face pacing before him, the (s/c) hand wiping sweat off his eyebrow. "I- I can't just leave a man here-" the man in dark clothes quickly spins back around to face Kaeya. "Do you have a horse? What happened? Are you dying?" He begins to nervously ramble off questions that beat his brain, blue eyes just staring at him. If Kaeya could laugh without hurting his bruised ribs then he would be dying on the floor seeing as such an intimidating man can be acting like such a softie.

"OH, I SHOULD PROBABLY GET YOU SOMETHING TO DRINK!" The man grabs a flask from his belt and holds it up to Kaeya's face, helping him drink down the last of the water. After waiting for a little, the dark-skinned man finally seems to get ahold of his voice. "Got robbed.. by a few scums and my stupid horse ran for the hills somewhere." (Y/n) nods, as he looks over to the direction where Kaeya shakily points his finger talking about the path his mount went. "Ah, I can go get 'em for ya' what does your horse look like?" (Y/n) ask, his eyes shifting back to the gruesome-looking guy in front of him. "He is an um-" A cough rattles the man, quickly moving his right arm to wrap around his ribs trying to rub the pain quickly away. "Sorry, he's a black roan arabian, he scares easily so it might be a hassle catching him though."

An overconfident smile makes its way onto the rider, as he let's out a rough chuckle. "Well, you ain't nev'a seen me and my boy in action. I can catch just 'bout anything." He walks forward and hoists his arms carefully around Kaeya holding him in a bridal position, making sure not to hurt him as he walks closer to his draft stallion. "Wait- wait what are you doing?" Kaeya speaks up quickly, his arms finding themselves around the other's neck tightly. "Well, I ain't gonna leave ya here am I?" He boosts Kaeya up onto his mount, soon hoisting himself up behind him. His arms reach around Kaeya's waist grabbing his horse's reins, his chin resting lightly over Kaeyas shoulder and arms barely laying upon the other's hips. "Alrighty bud, go!" He whips the reins, faintly tapping the edge of his boots against his percherons side, yanking his horse's head to the way Kaeya pointed to. "By the way sir, I'm (y/n) and this is my bud Gale" (Y/n) speaks up, not wanting to be riding with someone who doesn't even know his name. "Kaeya, my name is Kaeya.." A little sly smile makes its way onto Kaeya's face as he leans back onto the chest of the other, his pecks feel like plush feeling better than most pillows Kaeya ever has had.

Request are open! Also, I will continue this when I have some time and get some inspiration. Constructive criticism is welcomed :)

#kaeya alberich #kaeya x male reader #genshin #genshin x male reader #male reader #male insert #genshin imagines #genshin kaeya #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin impact x male reader #genshin scenarios #x male reader #male reader insert #male reader fluff #male reader fanfic

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 6 months

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A couple of my OCs who won't be appearing until a fair bit later in Hearing Problems won't get out of my goddamn head, so I gotta do a thing, please forgive me.

Here's a rough outline of their character profiles without giving away too many plot points.

These are my boys. Know them both like the back of my hand, have been dealing with them for literal decades.

So here we have the captain and first mate of the Hurricane pirates, Lyon D. Rollo and Janx.

Their general dynamic in a nutshell, pulled from an old fic:

Janx shot a glare at his captain, and then elbowed him into an innocent bystander. Lyon turned to apologize, but instead decided, as Janx had at that moment, that it would be a better idea to run, as it was actually a Marine that Lyon had just been elbowed into. Behind him he heard the man yelling, "Vice-Admiral! Lyon just ran off down the street!"

They took a detour down a back road and slowed down a little.

"Well, I guess we won't be skipping off into the sunset anytime soon, will we?" Janx said bitterly.

"Skipping? Definitely not. Running wildly toward it with a hundred or so heavily armed Marines chasing us? Very possibly."

That's them. That's my idiots.

Lyon first.

Age: (during Hearing Problems) Late 30s to early 40s. Hard to say since he honestly won't give a definitive answer, been lying about how old he was since he joined Roger's crew as a cabin boy/apprentice and hasn't really been able to get it straight since. Around the same age as Shanks and Buggy, give or take a year or two.

Appearance:

face claim is Josh Upshaw, edited for eye color; younger face claim is Berthold Rothas, hair and eyes edited, age late teens to early twenties

Art by me

Wild dark blonde hair that he keeps around shoulder length or longer, may be tied back in a loose ponytail. Honey brown eyes, short dark facial hair. Around 5'11" height, broad shoulders, lean build.

Black tricorne hat (replacement for the tricorne he gave his daughter twenty years ago), loose button shirts or t-shirts, loose comfortable pants, cloth belts, long black or dark blue overcoat. Silver oval locket he keeps tucked into his collar, with pictures of his late wife and daughter enclosed in it.

Primary weapon is a curved cutlass. Also often carries an old classical acoustic guitar; can't actually play the thing, it's just a reminder of home.

Personality: Oh the poor sweet dumbass. He's not exactly stupid; he's actually quite well-spoken and well-read, but he has all the common sense of a thumb tack. Was gullible to a fault in his younger years, and while age has eased that off a bit it hasn't done away with the issue entirely. Strongly prefers negotiation over physical altercation, but doesn't shy away from a fight at all if it becomes a necessity. Absolutely will deck anyone for shit-talking his mother. Hates Marines with a burning passion. Bit brooding at times, but mostly fun-loving. Strong sense of ambition—no interest in becoming King of the Pirates since that honestly just sounds like too much responsibility, but he's quite intent on racking up the highest bounty in known history.

Powers/abilities/talents:

Blades: If it has a sharp edge, Lyon can wield it fairly well, but he has a strong preference for one-handed swords, in particular sabres and cutlasses. He can easily go toe-to-toe with Shanks in a swordfight.

Devil Fruit: Kaze Kaze no Mi (Logia type: Wind). When Lyon initially left home at twelve, he really had no navigational skills whatsoever, and following the Log Posse he had stolen led him to an uninhabited island full of nothing but trees and beasts. Bordering on starvation while he waited for the log posse to set, he happened across a tree full of fruit. Being twelve years old and honestly not the brightest bulb in the box, he noticed one particular fruit that stood out due to its bright colors and shape, and he decided he wanted that one. Tasted disgusting, but he had climbed a damned tree to get it and he was hungry, so he dealt with it begrudgingly. Once he was back out on the sea, he realized by total accident that he could now control the wind (wind wasn't blowing and sloop was crawling along, he got impatient about it and started literally shouting at the wind to just blow already and it listened). Had no knowledge of devil fruits at the time and didn't really know what was going on until he joined Roger's crew and found out devil fruits were a thing and he had eaten one. Roger found this hilarious of course, though Lyon's abilities did cause them a bit of trouble; they were difficult to control, and if he wasn't careful he could end up altering wind and ocean currents and causing a literal hurricane.

Haki: Very adept with Armament Haki (Busoshoku), fairly adept with Conquerer's Haki (Haoshoku). Observation Haki (Kenbunshoku) not so much.

Music: Try though he may he has never managed to learn to play any instrument, which annoys him to absolutely no end because his mother was talented with several; but he has quite a lovely singing voice, and has penned a good few shanties in his time on the sea.

Affiliations/Relationships:

Helena Lionne (OC): His mother, who raised him more or less on her own. He was unaware she had been a pirate until he was around ten years old, when one of her old crewmates got a little too drunk and spilled the beans. She didn't want him to follow in her footsteps, but he ended up doing so anyway, stealing a sloop and a log posse from their island when he was twelve years old and setting out on his own. He's fiercely proud to call himself her son and took a variation of her surname rather than his father's.

Monkey D. Garp: The initial source of his hatred for Marines. Absolutely not his father and if anyone suggests it he WILL fight.

Monkey D. Dragon: Much older brother (more than ten years older), weren't close in their youth but have recently reconnected due to mutual interests.

Janx (OC): First mate, best frienemies, pretty much brothers. Janx probably never would have become a pirate if it hadn't been for Lyon. They bicker like an old married couple, but they also balance each other and they'd both lay their lives on the line for each other.

Sedna Lyon, nee. Beckman: The love of his life, his original first mate, briefly his wife, who died tragically amid a firefight with the Marines barely an hour after their daughter was born. They barely had two years together, but he still firmly believes they were soulmates, and he's never truly loved any other woman since he lost her.

Karimi Lionne (OC): His daughter and only child, who he hasn't seen in twenty years; left her in the care of his mother after she accidentally ate a devil fruit aboard his ship when she was three years old. Believes her to have died in the massacre that killed his mother and destroyed the village where he grew up.

Red Haired Shanks: Best friends in their youth, Shanks was essentially responsible for recruiting Lyon into Roger's crew. Hard to say which of them is actually older due to Lyon's tendency to lie about his age, but Shanks is definitely the older brother figure here since Lyon was such a gullible little shit. They set out together after Roger's execution, as allies rather than actual crewmates since they both intended to be captains, and parted ways as friends once they had both gathered enough crew to handle a ship.

Benn Beckman: First mate of the Red-Hair pirates, and also technically his brother-in-law. Benn still blames Lyon for the death of his younger sister and essentially hates his guts. Refers to him almost exclusively as Lyon D. Dipshit.

Buggy: Once a good friend aboard Roger's crew, but Lyon hasn't heard from him since they went their separate ways after Roger's execution. Buggy used to prank Lyon relentlessly when Lyon was younger and more gullible, but it was all in good fun. Mostly.

Hurricane pirates: Captain thereof, though presently disbanded for personal reasons.

Red-Hair pirates: Strong ally, though they haven't heard from him in nearly a decade

XxXxXxXXxXxXxXXxXxXxXXxXxXxXXxXxXxX

Aaaand now Janx (who I may or may not have named after the strongest liquor in the galaxy, a la Old Janx Spirit from Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy)

Age: 42

Appearance: (face claim, after literal years of not being sure, is Bruce Campbell c. ARMY OF DARKNESS, except bright blue hair. Voice claim as well. Basically just picture Ash with blue hair and that's our boy. Young face claim is Trent Ford for late teens-early twenties.)

Bright blue hair, slicked back from forehead and temples, not quite shoulder length. Big bright blue eyes that he has no problem using to get himself out of trouble. Clean shaved. Square jaw, square shoulders, trim build, about 6'3" height. Rarely seen without a shit-eating grin.

Tank top with black and white horizontal stripes, loose black pants with several pockets and belt loops to attach belts and guns.

The trope of characters being patted down and innumerable weapons being removed from their person is Janx in a nutshell. He never has less than six guns on him (two revolvers, two flintlock pistols, a rifle across his back, a sawed-off double barrel shotgun at his hip, probably a few knives in strategic locations, and a pair of brass knuckles for particularly sticky situations). Also has an altered gun holster at his belt where he carries a corked bottle of either liquor or some other flammable liquid, for use in making a quick molotov cocktail for distraction.

Personality: My beloved idiot, I haven't written him in literal years but he still lives rent free in my head twenty-four-seven. He's not very well read, and every other word out of his mouth is probably a profanity, but he's got enough street smarts and common sense to make up for it. There's no filter between his brain and his mouth. None, at all. I'd say he's a womanizer but that wouldn't be totally accurate, he's pan af. Basically if it can be fucked and is willing then he's going for it. There is absolutely no question that he has ADHD, with severe executive dysfunction. Everything is a chore, just let him vibe. Gives not one single iota of a fuck what anyone thinks of him. Eternally the life of the party. Cannot say no to a bet or a dare. Will start a bar brawl, throw a punch or two, and then quietly back out of it just to revel in the chaos he has created. Fiercely protective of his comrades and chosen family, especially his captain, and would lay his life on the line for any of them.

Abilities/Talents:

Firearms: Whether it's building them, maintenance, or shooting, he's your man. His father was proficient in carpentry and gunsmithing, and Janx took to the latter far more than the former. He could disassemble and rebuild any firearm put in front of him by the time he was eight years old. And shooting? You could throw a pebble in the air and he could shoot it down without batting an eye. Quick reload time even with flintlock weapons. If it uses gunpowder, he knows everything about it—and if he doesn't, give him five minutes and he'll be all but a certified expert.

Charisma/conning: He could sell ice to an Eskimo. He could convince you that he owns an entire island. He spent the better part of his formative years scamming people to make ends meet and he's turned it into an art form. If he had never become a pirate, he still would have been a successful conman.

Gunsmithing and carpentry: He had a fair knowledge of both from apprenticing under his father, but definitely more knowledge when it comes to gunsmithing. He can handle minor repairs around the ship, but not anything major. But when It comes to guns, he's the one to ask.

Chaos: If havoc need be wreaked, he's got it. He has a serious talent for it, is pretty much the embodiment of chaos. He absolutely revels in it, and if a distraction is needed, he has it handled.

Haki: Armament haki (Busoshoku), and even more adept with it than his captain; and fairly adept with Observation haki (Kenbunshoku), which goes hand in hand with his talents for both charisma and chaos.

Relationships/affiliations:

Lyon D. Rollo (OC): That's his captain, but that's also his lil bro. You fuck with him, you fuck with Janx, and you do not want to f with Janx.

Karimi Lionne (OC): That's his babygirl, basically his niece, see above for further instruction. If he considers someone family, you do NOT f with them. Would protect that child with his life, even if she does irritate the everloving hell out of him. Like Lyon, he is under the impression she lost her life along with her grandmother ten years ago, amid the massacre of Conch Cove.

Helena Lionne (OC): MILF. Does not care at all if it makes his captain uncomfortable, if he can bag The Siren then that's fucking bragging rights. Only actually met her once, when they made it to her island to take Karimi there, and he literally bowed down and pledged his undying loyalty on the spot. Helena did not help the situation by flirting right back, and Janx has spent the past two decades occasionally referring to his captain as "son" to get under his skin.

Monkey D. Garp: Government trash, no other opinions.

Monkey D. Dragon: Pretty cool dude, if a little intense.

Red-Haired Shanks: Also his bro, these two are not allowed to drink together unsupervised under any circumstances. Last time they did was over twenty years ago, around the time Janx joined up with Lyon, and it ended up resulting in Janx's first ever bounty because they decided it would be fun to incite a brawl in a primarily Marine tavern.

Benn Beckman: Considers Janx an absolute menace to society and is probably not wrong.

Buggy: Literally his younger brother, by blood. They haven't seen each other since Buggy was nine years old and Janx was thirteen or fourteen; they didn't part ways well. Janx still hated pirates at the time. Their father was killed by pirates, along with the majority of their hometown. They avoided death because Janx, at eight years old, convinced said pirates that they were children of a noble and worth taking for ransom. When said pirates learned otherwise, they were sold to a noble as servants, who treated them as less than human and had a tendency to punish them violently for insubordination. Janx ended up murdering the man at ten years old when one of said punishments nearly killed his younger brother, by smothering him in his sleep with a pillow, and then incited a riot among the other servants at the estate that allowed himself and Buggy to escape on a stolen brig without any notice and get as far away as possible. Janx remained fiercely opposed to pirates, used his skills in carpentry and conning to make ends meet for the two of them; but Buggy, having been much younger and not having any vivid memories of their father or their home, ended up being enticed into joining Roger's crew as a cabin boy/apprentice at around nine years old. Begged Janx to come with him but he refused, and the resulting argument between the brothers ended with them essentially disowning each other. Janx still regrets it almost three decades later, and still keeps an ear out for any news of his younger brother; he doubts there's any chance of making ammends at this point, but he would still to this day give his life to keep him safe.

#one piece #one piece original character #one piece oc #opla oc #original character

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crustyweirdo · 8 months

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smash or pass but it‘s pretty much the entire BrBa cast and i‘m adding my weird headcanons (queer edition)

please don’t take this too seriously, these are my preferences and most of the headcanons are obviously jokes. 18+ please!!

Walter White: hell nooo he worked with n*zis and wears those tighty whities. definitely needs pills to get it up

Saul Goodman: smash, i feel like he‘d call me mommy. minus points bc he‘d make dad jokes during it.

Jesse Pinkman: 1000% SMASH HES SO FINE!! would smoke in bed with me after. i feel like he has piercings down there too, don’t ask why. definitely whimpers

Skyler White: had to think abt it a little but i‘d smash, misunderstood queen. lots of aftercare too

Hank Schrader: hard pass. he‘s a cop and has the personality of a paper bag.

Gus Fring: sure! more of a hookup though because i can’t imagine him being kind and gentle. he‘d say no cuz he‘s gay fr

Mike Ehrmantraut: probably not what you guys wanna hear, but smash. call it a guilty pleasure, ik that guy has experience. would focus on my needs first. i‘d do it in his car

Jane Margolis: yes omg are you kidding?! her style is everything and she’s genuinely so hot, i‘d gay panic being in the same room as her. definitely uses toys

Walter Jr: pass, too young for me and i don’t find him that attractive

Marie Schrader: smash! she‘s genuinely so sweet and pretty, perfect balance. hank didn’t deserve her

Todd, Jack and co: hardest pass, i don’t think i have to explain why. would go on about how women don’t deserve rights when they’re on top of me

Tuco Salamanca: no, he scares me. probably into knife play or some weird shit

Skinny Pete: yes! he‘s an acquired taste guys

Badger: probably? this is a hard one, smash if i got paid like 50 bucks. for free if it‘s with pete. but i‘d definitely go on a date with him

Steven Gomez: pass bc he‘s a cop. if i had to choose between him or hank i‘d choose him any day tho

Hector Salamanca: pass, no disrespect. rip Mark

Lydia Rodarte-Quayle: i‘m anxious 24/7 so her nervous attitude would make it impossible for me to enjoy it. she‘d accidentally insult me during it in some way

Gale Boetticher: smash because i love his personality. he‘s a keeper, husband material. lasts 2 minutes :(

Combo Ortega: pass i like him but not like that fr

Ted Beneke: hard pass. wouldn’t shut up abt his stupid company for five minutes. he makes really weird sounds during it and asks if you came right after (u didn’t)

Eyebrow Guy: i like hair but not like that

Andrea Cantillo: yesss baby bring it on. easily one of the pretties characters. sadly her personality wasn’t shaped out well in the show

Gretchen Schwartz: i feel like she‘s too smart for me don’t ask why. would absolutely reject me

Elliot Schwartz: maybe if he wears a hat to hide those big ass ears. i‘d do it if he paid me tho

Wendy (blonde meth head): seems very sweet and i love her style but i‘m a fan of hygiene and her teeth are not it

Carmen Molina (principal): yeah i guess, she‘s pretty

Huell & Kuby: pass bc they‘re silly little guys. only come package deal

Donald Margolis: sad guy but seems very sweet. smash? he cries when he finishes

Salamanca Twins: probably never had sex ed, lots of uncomfortable stares… pass

Krazy-8: i don’t remember much of him but going off looks, smash

Jesses Therapy Group Leader: pass, he has those crazy killer eyes

hope you enjoyed! :D

#breaking bad #brba #better call saul #entertainment #nsft #queer #tv series #headcanons #smash or pass #walter white #jesse pinkman #mature #saul goodman #skyler white #hank schrader #gus fring #mike ehrmantraut #jane margolis

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themoon-saturn · 1 year

Text

Wonderland

Scaramouche/Wanderer x Fatui/Forest watcher gn! reader (fluff-angst) Suggestive and things are implied but not fully N$FW but still minors dni. Reader injury, If there is anything else I missed feel free to let me know!)

A/N: I tried angst for the first time oof. I thought about this one for a bit and finally did it but its a long one. I also had to edit it to actually post but everything is fine lol. I also have his name in my game as Ren so that's his name in this. The inspo was Wonderland by Taylor Swift. Not proof read as normal so please ignore any grammar or spelling issues. Love y'all and thank you for reading!

//Flashing lights and we Took a wrong turn and we Fell down a rabbit hole//

You were never scared of him, always finding ways to push his buttons but never far enough to be disposed of. You joined their ranks because of him truly, though you would never admit that, and worked your way up to be one of his most trusted confidants. Scaramouche enjoyed your company even though he never acted like it. You never took his snide words to heart and even fired some of your own back at him. You were incredibly smart, an excellent fighter, and had an energy that captivated him. “Sir, The rain will pick up soon.” your clothes already damp from the drizzle were annoying enough but Scara liked to see how far he can push you. “Can’t handle a little rain? You are supposed to be my second in command and you are scared of some water?” he smirked. “I just don’t want my clothes sticking to me, but I guess you do?” you retort. “You think that low of me? Are you actually that stupid?” you nod and continue on while he follows behind in a huff. You were to escort him to Sumaru city for reasons he wouldn’t say no matter how much you begged. He would rather you stay in the dark with this one at least for now, “There! That cave looks relatively safe.” You make it inside, “I’m gonna start a fire to help me dry off a bit. If someone had let me use their hat, maybe I wouldn't be drenched right now.” Scara rolled his eyes and sits on a nearby rock to watch the rainfall. “Ugh, I hate the forest.” You groan walking up to him in only your body suit as you bend down to start a fire. The way the tight one-piece hugs your figure perfectly causes Scara’s mind to wander but he quickly turns his attention back to the rain to calm himself. You were setting up the sleeping arrangements and you can feel Scara staring, “Sir? Is there a reason you are staring at me?” You tease, “ I wasn’t doing anything of the sort.” He turns away from you to hide his blush. You do enjoy having his attention, the tension had been building between you ever so slowly that it was bound to boil over. The teasing, the stolen glances, the personal space invading… you both were not subtle. “It’s all set up sir.” You call out as he makes his way over to you, “Always so efficient. Maybe you are worth keeping around.” He gave you a smug grin, you pushed his hat up and leaned toward him causing him to take a step backward. “Anything for you Sir Balladeer.” You laugh at his reaction only for him to grab your waist, catching you off guard. “You are an annoying thorn in my side. I could kill you, you know?” His voice drew you in like a spell. “I don’t think someone who finds me so annoying me so much would be holding me this close, hm?”, “Still as sharp and annoying as ever.” He says, pulling you towards him as your lips collided. It felt so new and exciting, your head was spinning. You both hit your breaking point, not able to get enough of each other and you hoped the storm raging outside would drown out the sounds from both of you. You fell asleep with Scara’s arm twisted around yours, thinking of the plan. His plan for godhood. The reason he is even here. He couldn’t hold back from you anymore and all he was hoping for was for you to follow him, for you to be his first disciple of the new god of Sumaru. He watches as you sleep so peacefully in his arms, kissing your temple. Soon enough the plan will be set in motion and nothing will stand in his way. He will be complete and you will be with him, side by side, forever.

//Didn't all feel new and exciting I felt your arms twisting around me I should have slept with one eye open at night//

The next morning you awoke to Scara next to you, still in his arms, confirming the activities of the night before. You lay still taking it all in and trying not to wake him but you feel him moving, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. “Good morning Sir Balladeer.” You say in a sing-song tone causing Scara to roll his eyes, “The day hasn’t even started and you are already frustrating me.” You watch as he stands to his feet and puts his clothes back on, “Frustrating? Hm seems I misunderstood your actions, Sir.” You laugh while dressing yourself as well. Scara lets out a huff of annoyance as he walks over to you, kissing you swiftly before you could even react. “I found a better way to shut you up is all. And from this point on… just call me Scara…” his voice changes from his usual snarky tone to something softer and more genuine as his finger traced down your arm to hold your hand. You softly nod, “Of course… Scara.” The days progressed normally as you made your way to Sumaru City though Scara was more touchy with you, he was holding on to your hand and was quick to pull you out of harms way but still kept his sarcastic tone when he spoke. You loved it though. Your nights were spent in each other's arms feeling like you were in a wonderland built just for you two. You were growing comfortable with this new side of him and Scara was equally as obsessed with the changes as well. Once you had arrived in the city you were greeted by some lower-ranked members with a bow, “ Welcome to Sumaru City Sir Balladeer. The Doctor has been expecting you.” You turn to Scara in confusion but his eyes are fixed ahead. The Doctor? What is he doing here? Once you see him, you bow immediately. “Greetings Scaramouche. Glad to see you made it here.” Scara's eyes shift from him to you before speaking, “Of course. Now y/n you are dismissed.” You nod and bow once more before exiting, finally able to breathe. You spend your time exploring the city while you wait for Scara’s return, the stares of the locals felt like they were burning a hole in you as you passed by. You didn’t care though, you still felt on top of the world. Maybe his aura rubbed off on you to give you this confidence because you felt above everyone, even the other Fatui soldiers, as you strolled in the city. One question still burned in your mind, why you had to bring him here? “There you are.” His voice whispers in your ear sending a chill down your spine. “Come. We can get something to eat before we go rest for the night.” You smile at him and follow. After dinner you both head to a room at an Inn in town, “They have a space for you, though you will be staying with me?” He gives you a smug smile. “Trying to put words in my mouth is quite rude don’t you think?” You match his energy and he moves to kiss you. You felt so in love, all the questions you were going to ask faded to the back of your mind. Scara loved the way his name fell from your lips and how beautiful you looked under him. He has been through betrayal after betrayal but you were different, like someone he couldn’t afford to lose. After another passionate night, you fell asleep next to him. He watched you for a while and planted small kisses on your forehead before he sat up, doing his best not to disturb you. “Scara? Where are you going?” Your tired voice made him stop in his tracks. “I have to meet Dottore. I will be back by the time you wake up.” He says still not looking at you. You sit up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, “Scara…? Is there something you aren’t telling me?” He was still silent for a moment before letting out a sigh, “There are things I can’t discuss right now. I’m sorry.” You gently place a kiss on the back of his neck where his electro mark is and let him go, “I understand. I will see you soon okay?” He can feel a shockwave through his body when he feels your lips on his neck. He doesn’t want to leave you but he stands and looks at you giving you a small smile, leaving you to sleep.

// But there were strangers watching

And whispers turned to talking

And talking turned to screams//

The night consisted of painful experiments all over again. Multiple testing and procedures had Scara screaming in pure agony. His only solace… the gnosis taken from the electro archon herself, his own mother. He would finally feel complete so he continued to endure the pain for many nights, hiding it all from you. You questioned him but he always told you not to worry. “All will be revealed soon,” he would say while squeezing your hand. You overheard the whispers for the other members about your closeness with the Balladeer, many watching you closely as you walked together but quickly looking away when Scara looked in their direction. He struck fear into the hearts of others but to you, he was sweet and gentle. Scara knew that he had fallen for you hard enough already but that love and devotion kept growing. He wanted to protect you from any harm and once his dream became a reality, he wouldn’t have to worry. He would dispose of anyone who tried to hurt you in any way. Some may call him obsessive but he was in love… you both were but he still had to fulfill his goal, all to be fully complete for you. Weeks had passed like this, but one morning you awoke and he wasn’t there. You waited and waited but he never came back and you tried not to worry, he was a harbinger and fully capable of handling things himself but that morning turned into a day and that day turned into multiple. You didn’t know where to look and it wasn’t like anyone would help you so all you could do was wait, until one night you were getting ready to sleep and you heard a voice in your head, “Y/n? Looking beautiful as ever I see?” You whip your head up to the door but he’s not there. You assume you had finally gone insane until you see him approaching you but it wasn’t him. He looked like a figment of your imagination, “ Scara? Is that you?” You cautiously stand up to face him with tears of worry in your eyes. Scara puts his hand to your face, “You are the first to see what we have been working on all these weeks my darling. I’m sure you have questions but this will all make sense soon enough.” His eyes look colder as he explains more, “I have never admitted this to you but I am not human. I was a puppet created by the Raiden Shogun herself… but she didn’t see me as useful and had cast me aside. I have had many turn their backs on me in the past but you, my darling y/n, never did. You showed me love and I don’t want to let that go. I love you. Y/n” You hovered your hand over his chest, “Oh Scaramouche… I love you. For someone who claims to not have a heart, I refuse to believe that. You are human to me Scara and the love you have shown me proves that.”

//I reached for you but you were gone I knew I had to go back home//

You looked into his eyes, expecting his soft gaze of affection like normal but it was still cold and almost… hollow. “Sumaru requires a new god. The Doctor has helped to achieve this goal and the people of Sumaru will bow to me and me alone. I will finally become what I was destined to be… I would like you to be my first disciple.” His tone shifted into something more sinister. You have heard how he commands his subordinates but this was different, he didn’t sound in his right mind. “Scara? What do you mean? Why would you even want to become a god? I don’t want to be another follower of yours, I’m your partner?” You asked plainly but he starts laughing. A strange laugh that shakes you to your core. “Are you that dense? This is my chance to get what is rightfully mine. This is what I deserve.” His anger began to spill over. Why did you look at him like that? “Scara you’re scaring me… This is too far don’t you think?” You try to reach for him but he looked at you in disgust. “You want to reach for me after thinking that I’m crazy? I thought you cared. You should be bowing to me.” He snapped as you tripped over your feet and fell to the floor. “ You said you loved me… Was all of that a lie?!” You yelled out with angry tears. He laughs again, “How stupid are you? You have been below me for years. You. obey. me.” You feel so small. Your expression turns from fear to disappointment and for a brief moment, Scara almost looks hurt. He leaves after that. You sit on the floor and cried for the rest of the night. You decided right then you were done with the Fatui, your heart was shattered into a million pieces and you didn’t want to stick around to see this mess unfold. You overheard some Fatui soldiers talking about the "Birth of a New God" in a factory under the city and you went to investigate. You had to face him again and get the truth from him. You sneak inside and look around until you hear the sound of his voice in a large room, “You finally arrived to witness the birth of a new god.” Without thinking you sprint forward, “Scara!” He pauses and sees you running up to him, “My darling y/n… did you change your mind? You will witness me take down the ones who stand in my way.” His voice sounds different entirely. You couldn’t even recognize him anymore. The Scaramouche you have known for years has gone insane with power. “Scara please… I don’t care about any of this I just want to be with you! I love you… Stop this before you get hurt!” You looked back on your new love affair, and how you got caught up in this whirlwind romance that you were oblivious to all the warning signs. You reached out to him, “I don’t need those who betray me. I wanted to be whole and fulfill my destiny with you by my side, but I see you have made your choice.” He says so coldly, knocking you aside with lightning. You scream in pain and the blonde-haired outlander runs to your aid only to be stopped by Scara. “Sir Balladeer…I still love you even now.” You manage to choke out before everything then went black. All you could think about was how his eyes were hollow when he looked toward you. Scara felt a pain he hadn’t truly felt yet, he is all too familiar with the pain of losing someone he considered to be a friend but losing you hurt so much worse. Your words cut him deeper than if you would have said you hated him. His fourth betrayal… was you. The traveler stood in front of him as he watched Nahida pull you to safety, he wouldn’t stop until he got what he deserved… with or without you by his side. He will always love you and that may be why this hurt so much.

//And in the end in wonderland we both went mad//

When you woke up you didn’t know how or when you arrived in Sumaru. Your body was sore but you had no memory of anything, “Oh you’re awake!” Someone called out. You were still in a daze when you could make out some people walking up to you, they were doctors that had been tending to you by order of Lesser Lord Kusanali. You didn’t think you were worthy of that treatment from the God of Wisdom herself. You never really got an answer but once you were healed up and could walk, you decided to stay in Sumaru. You joined the forest watchers due to how you enjoyed being out in nature and they were impressed by your determination, along with your sarcasm and quick wit always made talking to you interesting as well. One day, you were on patrol when you saw a man in an all-blue outfit with a massive hat walking down your path, “Hey! Are you lost or something? It’s dangerous out here and I really don’t need more adventurers getting themselves in trouble.” His eyes met yours and he looked pale. “Are you okay? Do you need some water?” You say pulling the canteen off your belt and handing it to him, “Thanks but I can handle myself. Don’t you have anything better to do?” He says while taking it, trying to ignore the lightning scar going up your arm. “It’s kinda my job to help idiots who get lost so I’m trying to see if you are one.” Your smug smile made his eyes dart to the ground. “Well, I’m y/n. Do you need assistance?” He looks up at you and you feel a pang in your chest. Something feels familiar but you can’t put your finger on it. “No, I can manage.” He said as he tilted his hat down, handing you back your canteen, and started walking in the opposite direction. “You can’t even tell me your name stranger?” You laugh a bit and he stops in his tracks, “I’m just a wanderer… but if you are so insistent on knowing, you can call me Ren.” He says not turning back to you. “Well Ren, maybe I’ll see you around.” His presence felt comforting somehow and you were sad to watch him go, but you shook the thoughts from your mind as you walked away. “Ren” knows you; he remembers every sarcastic comment, every sweet word, every kiss from you. He may have whipped his existence from Irminsul but he regained his memories after encountering the Traveler again. He turned slightly to watch as you walked off admiring the nature around you as the words, “I hate the forest,” played in his head. He realized then that if you never met him, you would have never joined the Fatui… you joined for him? How stupid could you be? He smiled to himself, “You deserve this nice life. One without me in it.” Though he wasn’t sure if he wanted that. He wanted to be selfish again but at least for now, he will admire you from a distance. He had to face what he had done to others, what he had done to you. He will never be a "good guy" but he will atone for his wrongs in due time and maybe you can get to know him as "Ren". Fate is cruel and he knows that he may never get that chance but he will do what he has to… in hopes he will have another chance to make things right.

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masterwords · 1 year

Text

legend

I had this idea. And I sprinted it in 20 minutes and didn't edit it and if it sucks, I'm sorry but CM: Evolution has really put me in my Hotchgan feels HARD (as if I ever really leave but...) so this happened. It fits with the @comfortember prompt for today: proud. ❤

1.6k words. Cheesy, stupid, self-indulgent and so sweet. Hotch & Morgan semi-retired and freezing at a Northwestern University football game.

Breathing hurt.

Hotch tugged his hat down over his ears and pressed his gloved hands over his mouth and nose, sucking in one, two, three deep breaths through the filter of warm knit wool. It didn't sting his lungs the way the air did. Derek's aunt made them for him, and a hat to match, and they were holding up better than anything he'd ever purchased at the store. She had made some crack about how he was always cold and made him two pair...his indoor gloves and his outdoor gloves. It was meant as a joke, poking fun at the way he wrapped himself in blankets or seated himself as close to a fire as he could, but he'd never minded a good joke at his expense. Especially not when that joke came with the warmest gloves he'd ever put on his hands.

“WOOOOOOOOOOO! GET EM!” Derek shouted from beside him, startling him by jumping up and waving his arms in the air wildly. “YEAH BABY!” Hotch glanced up at Derek and smiled cold and dreamy. He had no idea what had just happened on the field, but it mattered little. He had sixty quizzes to grade and Derek had a game to watch, that was the deal.

“You see that? DID YOU SEE THAT?!”

Hotch blinked up at him and Derek knew what that meant. He hadn't. It was okay, too. He would explain that it was one of the boys Derek had mentored at the youth center, one of the many he'd helped get scholarships to Northwestern. He was in his last year and he was a stud. NFL quality, Derek said, and he was working his tail off to get scouts out, get him noticed. He had connections.

That was how games went with them. Hotch went along dutifully, sometimes watching the game, others absorbed by the work he had to do. Since retiring from the FBI, since choosing that his family had to come first, he'd been teaching part time at Northwestern Law. It made sense, taking on a class or two at Derek's alma mater in order to prove to Derek that yes, moving to Chicago was a good thing for all of them. Being closer to Fran, to Derek's sisters and the rest of the Morgans was important. He'd spent so many years away from all of them. At a certain point they both realized what it cost them to remain in the D.C area and it wasn't worth it. Once Roy passed, the decision was even easier because Jessica wanted to go too.

“Let's get away from all of this,” she'd said, sealing the deal when Hotch had his doubts, most of which involved leaving her. “There's nothing left for us here.”

She was right. But in Chicago, they had the Morgans, and it was a quick trip from there to New York to visit Sean once he was released from prison. They were doing better at that whole visiting thing, too. Better at being brothers. Sean sent birthday gifts and cards; he even came to Chicago to visit. Hotch couldn't remember a time in his life when family looked like this, and it was overwhelming at times, but it was always good.

Except the temperatures in Chicago when winter hit. If he had to come up with one complaint to file for the record, that would be it. Right now, they were sitting in temperatures that were in the single digits, and the windchill took them down below zero. His nose hurt, his lungs hurt, his joints ached, his nose ran. In his pockets he kept plenty of packets of Hot Hands, and his collection of wool undergarments had grown exponentially, but there was really only so much you could do to combat this kind of chill. It settled deep in his bones.

“What quarter is it?” he asked, blinking his frosted eyelashes as he tried to focus his eyes on the scoreboard. It was a blur of purple and yellow, bright lights and nothing else. His glasses had fogged up enough times he'd given up on them...he could see his papers just fine without them, everything else would be up to Derek.

“Third. One left baby. Hang in there.”

Hotch scrunched his frozen nose but he smiled and went back to his papers. He only had a few left to go, and they would occupy his mind until the frostbite set in at least. At that point...well, at least he knew Derek could carry him if his feet no longer worked.

“Hey,” Derek said quietly, nudging Hotch with his elbow. “That one of your students?” Hotch glanced up and squinted, focusing on a young woman a few rows up who kept turning back to look at him. He smiled at the vague shape of her and she lifted her arm in a nervous wave.

“Yes,” he replied, returning the wave with one thick gloved hand. Her eyes darted from him to Derek and back, the vague flicker of realization in them, and blushing she turned back around and turned her attention back to the game. He scrunched his nose; it was really about the only expression he had left available that his frozen face could manage and watched her for a moment longer. He had some misgivings about what she saw or thought she saw, some horror at the thought she might feel it was inappropriate in some way that he waved at her, or perhaps that he was here with his husband. Whatever it was made her turn in an instant, and all he could do was turn back to his papers and begin scribbling furiously in the margins with frozen stiff fingers. He was going to be a human popsicle by the time this game was over.

“Professor Hotchner?” came a voice from beside him, and he glanced up, sniffling a little. His nose was running it was so damn cold. The student he'd waved at was now standing above him with an expectant smile.

“Monica,” he answered quietly, nodding and pushing up to standing as fast at his locked and painful joints would allow. He steadied himself against the seat when it flipped up behind him and smiled. “How can I help you?”

“I um...” she started a little nervous. “This is probably really out of line and I'm sorry to bother you, but is that Derek Morgan beside you?”

Hotch glanced over at Derek who was so intently locked on what was going on in the game that he hadn't noticed what was happening beside him. He nodded.

“It is,” he replied. He left it open, just hanging there, doing his best not to make any assumptions about her intention. The stadium erupted around them, and Derek leapt out of his seat again, hollering. Without wasting a moment, hHe wrapped Hotch in a hug, arms tight around his shoulders and kissed his cheek. Not a care in the world.

“TOUCHDOWN!”

“Derek,” Hotch whispered, nodding his head in Monica's direction. “This is Monica Jordan, one of my students.”

“Oh, hey! Pleasure to meet you!” Derek released Hotch quickly, with only one arm, and extended his hand to her. The other arm stayed hooked around Hotch's shoulders, fingers digging into his puffy coat protectively. “He's nice to you, yeah?”

“Yes,” she said quickly, taking his hand. “Yeah, his class is great. It's my favorite.”

“Nahhh...that can't be true,” Derek said, shaking his head. “He's so boring. I've been forced to sit through this man's lectures. Come on, what's your real favorite class?”

“No, really,” she began, squaring up her shoulders as if she needed to defend him. “The way he presents topics is so engaging. You can tell he's got a lot of lived experience, it's not just something he read in a textbook and regurgitated for us. Did you guys work together?”

“Yeah, we did. For a long time.”

“I'm supposed to do an interview with someone I admire for my sociology class, and I was wondering if um...if I could interview you, Mr. Morgan?”

“If it's all good with the ol' ball and chain...”

Hotch rolled his eyes and sighed. Sometimes he just had to question his own sanity. “Derek.” He said nothing more, and Derek let out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, sure. Let me know when and where, I'll be there. OH HELL YEAH! WILDCATS WIN BABY! WOOOOOO!”

Hotch couldn't blame Derek for his enthusiasm, the way he was easily distracted by what was happening on the field. It was the team's first win of the season. Likely to be their only win, too. The team seemed to be permanently ailing, it was kind of their thing, but Derek never wavered in his support. No one could accuse him of being a fair-weather fan, and Hotch followed him dutifully to every game. His support of Derek was unwavering, too.

“I um,” Monica started, stepping a little closer to Hotch. “He's a legend in my neighborhood. I grew up hearing stories about him from everyone. You're really lucky.”

Hotch, frozen as he was, beamed at that. His eyes shone bright with tears that froze before they could do much more than appear. “I am.”

Breathing hurt, but the celebratory kiss Derek gave him, and the warm air pushed into his lungs didn't. He hoped Monica had walked away, hoped she wasn't staring at them, but he wasn't going to let it stop him from wrapping his arms around Derek beneath his open coat and hugging him close. Sucking up all of the warmth he had to offer in the glow of the stadium erupting in loud cheers. “I love you,” Derek whispered between kisses, and Hotch smiled against his lips and muttered his reciprocation breathless and happy.

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #hotchgan #aaron hotchner x derek morgan #hotch x morgan #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #comfortember 2022 #prompt 27: proud

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wulvert · 1 year

Note

i sent an ask earlier about a triptrack movie

yes red would have a motorcycle at some point - maybe stole it from some loser or it could just be something cool he has - and his mask would actually be a motorcycle helmet - also tex would be so annoying to ride on a motorcylce with lmao hed be so distracting

i know that we like people who look stupid but pre-sunburn red in a black leather jacket for a flashbackor whatever? mmmmmmmmm

i personally am not a big fan of sunburnt red - i am a tumblr sexyman lover forever - so if he got his hair back and maybe had a bunch of scars instead of a sunburn that would be pretty marketable - i just hate his sunburn lmao idrk why

red shouldve kept his disguise jacket it looked awesome on him idk why - texs disguise shouldve been one of those sun dresses and a floppy hat lol

imagine tex and red running through the glass city from the feds but stopping to take a photo next to a headline about them as criminals - red in sparkly makeup and some kind of whore outfit and tex wearing a unicorn onesie for no reason? slay

instead of the train stopping during the fight with shae, what if tex and shae fought on top of the moving train - shae knocks tex and red off the train at one point

i know tex cant eat but what if he could drink things? ensues red dragging tex to a random bar for a break idk? - even if tex doesnt like music 0r loud stuff he could at least enjoy dancing with red or wwhatever

terry could have a massive dangerous transformation scene where his hands turn into saw blades or something and he his a big mouth full of incredibly sharp teeth idrk

toad could look a little less diseased - maybe shorter hair and less sweat? - and use the science of eels to power his robot creations

also red and tex jumping off a building to avoid the feds and basically skydiving lives rent free in my head

while lost in the desert red and tex come across an oasis and maybe do some swimming??? i just want a beach episode man

ms tarantula being a cyborg like shae could be cool idk why

terry being scared of possum lmao

tex and red run into mits and mouse at the roller rink - mits and mouse spinning each other on skated while starting an insane shoot out with ak47s while tex and red skate and dodge while also drinking slushees

tex vs toad would rock as a finale - imagine toad using eel dna to transform/bioengineer himself as a way to prove to tex that tex is inferior due to being artirficial

i really dont know im just thinking about them

edit: reading this back i think i came off as a bit too much of a hater IM SORRY ITS HARD 2 CONVEY TONE OVER TEXT))

...................................eyes glazed over at hating sunburnt red im ngl, I don't rly care if he's less marketable- I have no interest in giving him his old face back after triptrack either I much prefer him being at peace with the way he looks. him having the minor scarring of a cowardly phantom of the opera adaptation would be lame, doesn't rly drive home the pain he's in at the moment with him still needing to apply antiseptic and bandages. I dont think he physically looks stupid either its just the clothes he's wearing atm.- wait instead of a sunburn? the sunburns reinforced by the worldbuilding i think itd be a missed opportunity to not have it be caused by the sun.

also these days tumblr sexymen make me feel physically ill- I can barely stand drawing tex's abs. the green jacket muddled their opposing colour schemes, it needed to die.

bc red would die trains are fast.- 2 be clear i dont like the shae fight i dont like a lot of triptrack, but for that to happen red would fly away, tex would immediately then also fly away- leaving shae presumably completely fine, not leaving you with anything about the sun- or, she's not fine, bleeds- passes out and dies, which rip and red would also die. he can take broken ribs but hes not train proof shae's head isnt train proof either.

terry isnt built to murder ppl hes a bouncer at best so it wouldnt rly make sense. he does have a mouth though i mentioned this, its more like a toothless puppet mouth though.

😞 why would you make him less sweaty 😞 thats his whole appeal. 😞also an eel robot that would be animal abuse 2 him and he doesnt support that- dont know how her being a cyborg would come up but way more acceptable than less sweaty eel

personally i like possum never being mentioned

I rly need to get toads arc over with so he can beat the being anything other than a sweaty middle aged guy with multiple untreated anxiety disorders, allegations.

there are a lot of changes i wanna make to triptrack dont get me wrong. but i think we have different ideas of my dudes, i hope i didnt come off as too much of a hater tho

#asks

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mostlygibberish · 9 months

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"Jurassic World? Not a fan."

I liked the part with the bullet time.

I'd say that I'm not sure what the point of Jurassic World Dominion was, but like the rest of this trilogy, it clearly exists to profit off nostalgia for better movies.

The concept of dinosaurs now living freely around the globe was barely explored; There was about a five minute montage of dinosaurs attacking random people and making human lives generally worse. Instead they spent most of the movie in, get this, a large park built to contain dinosaurs which ultimately failed to contain the dinosaurs. This is what, the sixth time now?

What little plot this movie actually contained was weirdly focused on giant locusts instead of dinosaurs. For some reason the villain had been keeping these genetically modified super locusts around, even though their existence was evidence he wanted suppressed. He then arbitrarily decided to light them on fire after the protagonists had already gotten away with one. Despite being very flammable they were barely affected by being engulfed in flames, so they just flew around lighting his whole park on fire.

At the end of the movie they stopped the giant locusts by releasing a genetic virus that… did something to them I guess? The science guy just said "I can spread change from one locust to the entire swarm", without giving any details. A news report at the end praised him for his "use of a pathogen to alter the locust's DNA", again not actually explaining what it did to them or how it helped at all.

There were about two dozen characters and none of them were interesting, the action set pieces were either offensively stupid or just dreary, and the movie ended with a nonsensical, non-sequitur speech about co-existence with dinosaurs. The stuff about Isabella Sermon being a clone was as uninteresting as last time and her performance was remarkably bad, just making the same vaguely concerned expression regardless of what was happening in the scene.

The return of Laura Dern and Sam Neill felt as hollow as Jeff Goldblum's brief return in the last movie, and he was back to do nothing in this one too. There was this really bizarre scene where Dr. Grant risked his life for his hat, as though that was an important facet of his character or something like he's Indiana Jones? Also he sounded like he was poorly impersonating Liam Neeson. The fact that the villain was the guy Nedry met at the start of Jurassic Park stood out as an especially pointless callback, even among a sea of pointless callbacks.

The most strikingly bad aspect of this movie was the editing. Characters would be in different positions and poses between immediate perspective changes, making it clear that the thing had been chopped to all hell. None of the action scenes had danger or urgency, and the way every shot had like fourteen people in it excluded any potential sense of threat to an individual character.

What else can I complain about? Their cargo plane had three seats but one of them was an "ejector seat", complete with permanently open hole in the roof above it and a handheld device that tracked the position of the seat, presumably to be used by one of the two people who didn't have ejector seats and would probably die in the crash.

Chris Pratt pointed at a map of the park and asked "Where is that?", as though he wasn't literally pointing at map that showed where it was. Oh yeah, and this was the extended edition that allegedly improved the movie in some way.

Another bland, soulless cash grab. Just terrible.

#jurassic world dominion #jurassic world dominion 2022 #movie review

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sillyunicorn · 2 years

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Fanfic writer challenge (aftg edition)

1. list & explain the three lines/moments from canon that are most fundamental to how you write your fave character

2. challenge 3 more fic writers to do the same!

Tks for the idea and tag @mostlymaudlin !

I meant to sleep but couldn't stop thinking about this so here we go. ANDREW MINYARD:

1. Theres a lot under the surface (and under this break)

"How a man who viewed the world with such studied disconnect could kiss like this, Neil didn't know, but he wasn't going to complain." (TKM)

One day I'll share my essay on surface ppl versus depth ppl but just know Andrew is a depth person.

2. He knows Neil.

Neil asking Andrew how he can stand him after everything:

Neil reached for him, unwilling to let him leave without a real answer.

"No," Andrew said, and Neil's hand froze a breath from Andrew's arm. (TKM)

Maybe also indicative of his understanding of other ppl in general. Analyzes them, never forgets anything. Pretty much always knows what to expect. Neil is the only one who ever really manages to surprise him. But in this moment he knows what Neil will do, and he uses that to demonstrate his point.

Not the most important thing in this scene, which shows how Neil knows and respects Andrew's boundaries. Among other things. But still.

3. He's a self sacrificing asshole who sees things in black and white. Especially his own commitments and what it means to protect someone. Neil explaining to Aaron why Andrew killed Tilda:

"Why he—what? That isn't the same. He didn't do that for me."

"He told me he did," Neil said. "I didn't even have to ask him. He warned her to stop hitting you and she wouldn't. He had no choice but to get rid of her. ...

"Except I lied," Neil said, getting to his feet. "Unlike you, he's not angry that you interfered. I just said that because I needed you to understand." (TRK)

Andrew doesn't get angry, he gets even lol.

4. Bonus. He doesnt get angry, except when he does.... at how much he cares about Neil.

hotel scene:

"I'm sorry," Nathaniel said.

...

"Say it again and I will kill you." (TKM)

Like, is he bluffing? Is he serious? I don't think he'd hurt Neil (death threats are old hat at this pt) but I think it does make him absolutely livid that Neil would put himself in harm's way. Angry at Neil for being a martyr and making him worry, but angry at himself for worrying in the first place. Neil made him renege on his deal, which Andrew never does, but even after that Andrew still cares about him. And then Neil goes and gets himself kidnapped. How! Dare! He!!!!! And how dare Andrew for still wanting to protect this stupid little rabbit. Love him

#this was more #what i see as andrews defining charactwristics #more than how i write hin #bc i have only written vandrew #APPARENTLY #but still fun to think about #sigh #andrew minyard #aftg #tag game #doh forgot to tag ppl #its too late am asleep #gnite

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leahsfiction · 2 years

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sword au mxy's new names

@garden-ghoul wrote me an insanely long mdzs AU fanfic that i helped brainstorm over the course of like 4 months in 2021. we truly came up with some banging ideas, including a main plot arc about mo xuanyu being named the heir of lanling jin and the family horrors that ensue.

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 MAN does mxy ever picture jgs formally legitimizing him & giving him a new name tho!

tl;dr

courtesy name: 金子翕 jin zixi [generation name to match zixuan] + "to furl OR amiable, compliant"; also contains the 羽 "feather" in xuanyu

pun on 仔细 zixi "be careful"!!!

personal name: 金鹃 jin juan "cuckoo" (this only appeared like once on-page lol)

below you can read the lightly edited Discord chatlogs... they're still Very long

---

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 but I DO want to think about possible new personal names for him as well….

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 ohhh jin guangyao absolutely seething on the inside

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 jgy: ::))))))) jgy: come to my room and learn about demonic cultivation, since we're brothers

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 jgs basically made him the Retainer for life with that guangyao!! fuckkk

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 mxy, internally: with that name aren't you more like my uncle mxy, not stupid enough to say this out loud

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 like. he's permanently the evil scheming uncle by name YEAH AKFJSJ

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 assigned evil vizier at war hero…

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 fuck. put it in!

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 YEAH

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 I WILL. I'LL PUT IT IN

---

the thing is I'd like to come up with a cute set of black bird-related names… but then we'd lose the chance to make jgs as shitty as possible

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 ahhh what would be the SHITTIEST way to name your new* son

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 right yes exactly -ponders-

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 like you could give him a really WEIRD fuckin virtue name

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 some kinda pointed reference to certain virtues/values? HA SAME HAT

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 same thought… lemme just name my new son "obedient"

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 贴 tie… that doesn't sound great to me but the collection of meanings 😬

noun: subsidy; allowance verb: paste, stick, glue; keep close to, nestle; subsidize (variant of 帖 tie) adjective: submissive, obedient; proper, appropriate

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 also have the page for tie open on yellowbridge lol the meanings are SOMETING jin tie… or is this going in the courtesy name? jin zitie? I guess I don't like either of them much

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021

服 fu (from futie, obedient) verb: wear; take (medicine); serve; be convinced/obey/admit; convince; be accustomed to

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 no that's really good…. his goth outfits…. and also. yk. putting on this weird new identity.

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 hmm these are a little pedestrian since dictionaries sort words by frequency… i should scroll to the bottom

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 I'm enjoying

屈服 qufu to surrender or yield; qu (bent, to feel wronged) fu (clothes, to obey, mourning clothes)

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 lol this isn't relevant i just

温驯 wenxun: docile; meek; harmless; moderate and obedient; tame

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 hehehe I'm tempted by both the sound and sense of Jin Qu, Jin Zifu

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 mmm!

逊顺 xunshun - modest and obedient; unassuming xun, verb: abdicate. adjective: modest; (literary) inferior shun, verb: arrange; obey; fall in with…

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 ::)

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 shun also means favorable so u have that plausible deniability

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 hahaha this isn't the same xun as jin zixun is it

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 uhhh NO idea

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 it's not OH motherfucker. annoying little man. his xun is medal or merit to be knighted or awarded an honor….

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 I'm also thinking about how weird it would be to name him zishun because it sounds EXTREMELY similar to both zixuan and zixun and I mean weird in maybe a narratively good way to go "jgs what the Fuck"

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 imagine if they named him zixun (written differently) lmao

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 nooooooo we CANNOT see a reason I like zifu actually is because it has a hugely different vibe than the previous heirs jgy killed it feels gentle

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 i like this one for the visual relationship to "yu"

翕 xi literary verb: furl; fold; shut adjective: amiable and compliant 羽 yu

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 I also REALLY like "furl" as a. thing to be related to mxy.

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 lol if it's "zixi" that's an exact pun for "careful"

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 ::DDD

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 but like. mxtx would….

--- do i want to come up with a new personal name to go with zixi then… do we just keep "xuanyu"

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 know what's a super pretty name. probably too pretty for jgs. huiyu

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 OOO? hui as in grey?

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 I mean 晦 I'm not sure if it's grey, I looked at it in the hxgl post and they said it's "dark"

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 ah no different hui i didn't know this one lol. it's a nice one!

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 hmm I like the tones better on grey-hui I mean. can we JUST give him a name that's pretty and not one jgs has to pick out…. ugh I want him to have a pretty name maybe when he leaves and joins the new mountain sect he can be huiyu ::) okay it still means we have to pick out a personal name from jgs' library of shittiness tho…

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 (he meets yllz and she's JUST a nice older sister!!!! ughhh) library of shittiness alfjsjdj

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 is there some kind of backhanded compliment or. no. the opposite

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 OTHER than obedient??

gardenghoul — 03/16/2021 a thing that sounds like a compliment but actually is like "no I don't think you have any value" like, a symbol with some kind of literary double meaning idk rn I'm thinking about 沼 and how a pool or marsh can have connotations of natural beauty OR of uhh "a nasty little puddle" depending on how much of a dick you are wait I'm really into this

Yellowbridge list of binomes for 荡 dang, e.g. 荡妇 dangfu "slut" 荡然 dangran "vanished from the face of the earth" 动荡 dongdang "unrest (social or political); turmoil"

especially 👀 at dangran (AND I like the sound of jin dang)

leahsfiction — 03/16/2021 mmm!

子规 zigui variant of 杜鹃· dujuan noun (ornithology): cuckoo (鹃 juan)

(4 days later lol)

leahsfiction — 03/20/2021 aaaa can i change my mind Again 😔 and propose jin juan for mxy's new personal name… i think it's both easier to look up + connect to "cuckoo" and also preserves that assonance with xuanyu

翠金鹃 cuijinjuan: Asian emerald cuckoo

#sword au

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forthegothicheroine · 2 years

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How Other Great Detectives Would Solve the Murder of David Kentley

Inspired by @ bpdtomwambsgans . A series I do sometimes. Assuming we’re still using the setup of the film Rope, all the detectives here will be at a disadvantage because they don’t go in even knowing a crime has been committed. I considered over whether any of the detectives could reference the real life Leopold and Loeb and decided against it, although it would have been hilariously stupid if that crime had existed in the Rope universe (”RIP to Leopold and Loeb but I’m different.”- Brandon, probably.)

Columbo: @ bpdtomwambsgans said that he was Rupert’s ex-boyfriend, so sure, let’s go with that. He tries his best to be polite during Rupert’s incoherent philosophical ramblings, although he offers interjections such as “Aww, geeze” and “I don’t know about that.” He keeps his eyes on Brandon and Phillip the whole time, though. They seem nervous, could he offer them any cigars? It really is a shame David couldn’t be here. Columbo comforts David’s loved ones, but keeps slipping surreptitious glances at the boys- particularly the arrogant Brandon, even though Phillip would seem to be the more obvious. Finally he says that he’s very sorry, but he’ll have to ask them to come in for questioning. Brandon gives the grubby little untermensch a haughty attitude, and then Columbo shows him David’s left behind, monogrammed hat.

L: I’ve given L a hard time in this series, but I think he’d be in his element here. He sits perched on his chair nibbling on only the dessert, staring unblinking at his fellow guests. When Rupert goes on his ramblings about how the Nietzschean superman could commit murder and be morally justified, L just says “No,” and stares at him until he becomes too uncomfortable to go on. He starts idly kicking at the chest holding up the food table, and comments on the oddly non-empty sound it makes, while staring at Phillip and Brandon in a knowing fashion. After enough of this, Phillip has a screaming nervous breakdown.

Sam and Peter: These guys are actually beautiful, perfect foils for Brandon and Phillip! The series they are planning to film would have been all about implying their teacher Rupert Cadell was a serial killer (he has been happy to give plenty of sinister interviews!), and Peter has his cell phone camera surreptitiously on during Rupert’s Nietzschean superman speech (he will edit the clip at the end to say “I swear to god, we did not dub any of this!”) Already knowing and disliking his sycophants Brandon and Phillip, they keep asking annoying questions about murder (Sam: “Hypothetically, would your theories justify me killing Peter to get to his hot mom?”) Phillip thinks they’re onto him when they are not, which leads to them actually becoming onto him. Sam ‘accidentally’ knocks over the buffet table in the hopes of creating a distraction to search the house, but oh shit, there’s a body in that chest! The finale to this web series will involve them wondering about the responsibility a teacher carries with them in shaping the minds of their students.

Sherlock Holmes: Holmes is happy to engage in philosophical debate with Rupert, and responds to his Nietzschean superman speech with one intellectual point after another- how would a man realize he was superior? Wouldn’t a profound belief in one’s own inherent superiority indicate a lack of self-questioning, a flaw in itself? At the end of hours of discussion he reveals that Brandon and Phillip murdered someone because of the exact pattern of worry wrinkles in Phillip’s forehead and the direction Brandon’s eye twitched that one time.

Dale Cooper: I love Cooper, but he isn’t going to solve a case in a single night. He can’t solve a case in a single season.

Kinsey Millhone: Kinsey dislikes Brandon but takes an unexpected liking towards the nervous Phillip and wonders if he’s being abused by his partner. Not exactly, as it turns out. She cuts Rupert off during his Nietzschean superman speech by asking if he’s ever seen the body of a murder victim. Does he think it would look like a work of art? She nevertheless correctly reads that he’s all talk, while Brandon seems to be responding to the speech with genuine callousness. She tries to talk to Phillip privately when David doesn’t show up, and incites Brandon’s jealousy. Phillip and Brandon fight, and in the course of this they reveal some very incriminating details. Rupert puts it together and yells “Did you think you were god, Brandon?” “Why shouldn’t he?” Kinsey says. “You told him he was.”

Miss Marple: Of all the detectives here, I think Miss Marple is the best suited to solving a murder over the course of a single dinner party without doing any legwork. She knows David, he’s a dear, and he wouldn’t just abandon his loved ones to worry about him. She spots the monogrammed hat and hears the lies Phillip and Brandon tell about themselves and notes their attentiveness to Rupert and his speeches about Nietzschean supermen. She correctly deduces that Rupert is all talk, though, and at one quiet point she takes his hand and says “I hope your little jokes haven’t set something terrible in motion.” Rupert is unexpectedly drafted to do her legwork and uncover the corpse beneath the table.

Hercule Poirot: Poirot does not enjoy nasty topics over dinner like inherent superiority and how smart people should be allowed to commit murder, so he’ll already be on edge. (So is Hastings, but he just reacts by going “I say, isn’t this a bit much?”) He is dotingly attentive to David’s loved ones when he doesn’t show up and purse-lipped towards Brandon and Phillip for their callousness. Normally he might need longer to ruminate on a crime, but these boys were not exactly criminal masterminds so he’d probably poke a million holes in everything they said about themselves and with each pointed question he grows more certain that something terrible has happened. Rupert puts it together based on Poirot’s questioning and yells “Did you think you were god, Brandon?” “Worse,” says Poirot- “they thought you were.”

Philip Marlowe: I’m going to avoid emphasizing Marlowe’s weird homophobic scene in the novel version of The Big Sleep (you’ll notice I left Sam Spade off this list for similar reasons) and instead say he dislikes Brandon and Phillip because they are slimy little weasels (perfectly valid!) But he’s not even here to see them, he’s here because the investigation of an art theft lead to a murder for hire which lead to a diamond smuggling operation controlled by the mafia who turned out to be using a snooty prep school to deliver heroin. Or something like that. At some point during the evening when things are getting suspicious, he pays a bellboy to burst through the door waving a fake gun. “I did it, I did it, I killed David, don’t arrest me!” yells Phillip.

Phryne Fisher: Phryne immediately throws a wrench in things by being her usual flirtatious self and inadvertently coming between Brandon and Phillip. Both start to be worried that she will seduce the other into giving away answers, and just to show off how little he cares, Brandon starts responding to her flirtation in a very showy fashion. When David’s loved ones start to worry about his whereabouts and the boys don’t seem terribly sympathetic, she gets a nasty hunch and sneaks around the house to try to put it to rest. She finds David’s hat and has an even nastier feeling about it. It’s probably not enough to get the boys arrested, but she could at least get Jack to question them. When the boys hear her calling the police, Brandon orders Phillip to silence her. Instead, she overpowers him with a series of artful elbow jabs. Not so superior now, is he?

Sam Vimes: Vimes spends the whole dinner pressing his hands down on his legs in a desperate effort to keep from punching Rupert. If Brandon and Phillip are lucky, this will distract him from realizing there is actually a dead body in the room. If they aren’t, and he realizes they killed someone to prove hos posh they were and then invited the victim’s family over? Hoo boy. I believe the appropriate term here is “Vimes is going to go spare!”

Benoit Blanc: I can so easily see Blanc being invited to this party. Hell, if Knives Out had been made in the 50s, James Stewart would have played him! He spends all of Rupert’s Nietzschean superman speech making distracting finger taps on the table, periodically interrupting him. Once David’s loved ones start worrying about his whereabouts he spends most of his time consoling them, but notices how oddly unsympathetic Brandon and Phillip are. When Phillip lies about having strangled a chicken, he asks “Now why would a man lie about strangling a chicken? It doesn’t seem the kind of thing that slips one’s memory.” When he finally finds the body in the chest, he gives a very similar speech to the boys to the one in the film (”Did you think you were god, Brandon?”) but he also castigates Rupert for having given them an elevated excuse for petty sadism.

Sammy Keyes: Sammy thinks she saw some guy in this apartment strangle another guy in the window across from her. That can’t be right, can it? People don’t just murder each other in front of windows? She doesn’t have proof to go to the police with, plus it might reveal she’s living in a place she isn’t supposed to be in, so she makes an emergency run to the thrift store to get a grey dress and an apron and pretend to be general apartment staff. Don’t mind her, the hotel kitchen just sent her to make sure the right food was delivered! Sorry she knocked over that hatstand, she’s just so clumsy! Let her just clean the dishes off that buffet table, oh no, in the process she’s opened the chest underneath!

Will Graham: Will falls under Rupert’s influence and is inadvertently manipulated into becoming yet another would-be Nietzschean killer.

#great detectives series #rope

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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 3 years

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Don’t Go Baking My Heart || Seokjin

Pairing: Seokjin x reader

Summary: You fall in love with Kim Seokjin’s bakery after wandering into it to take advantage of the post-Valentine’s Day discount on the chocolates. Maybe it’s the owner’s bad jokes, maybe it’s the other regulars, maybe it’s the delicious pastries. Or maybe there’s something more that keeps you coming back to that shop.

Also available on Ao3.

Word count: 14.7k

Genre: Strangers (to Friends) to Lovers, Bakery AU, tooth-rotting Fluff, some smut

Warnings & Tags: mentions of insecurities and of former relationships, smut (vaginal sex, oral [male receiving], fingering), Jin makes Bad Jokes, Valentine’s Day themed

A/N: Soooo this was supposed to come out for Valentine’s Day, but it wasn’t ready then, so you guys get it now instead! I’m bad with puns so I definitely had to look online for those used in this oops. Finally, I’d like to give a big thank you to the amazing @elidebrey who actually worked in a bakery shop and told me all about (I’m sorry you guys ran out of milk all the time). She’s an amazing writer and you should check her out if you like the Batfam! Hope you’ll enjoy this one-shot!

February 15th

You first walk into Kim Seokjin’s bakery the day after Valentine’s Day. Your eye was caught by the chocolates and cakes you noticed on sale from the outside, and also the name of the place, The Rolling Scones, which is either genius or terrible, you can’t pick. The door bell chimes happily, first when you push the door open and then when it closes behind you.

The place is empty. There’s no one behind the counter, and you find yourself hesitating there for a second, both arms behind your back like a shy schoolgirl — which you once were, but that was a while ago now. Natural light, the cold sun of February, is falling through the bay windows, and the place is cute, clearly decorated with love and care. It makes you feel just a little warmer inside.

Since no one seems to be showing up, you take your time to look at the display. You’ve spent the past week crying over the end of your two year relationship, and you’re desperately craving something sweet and sugary to fill the hole in your heart and in your life. Post Valentine’s Day discount is definitely the best way to do that.

If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you knew this relationship was never going to be your forever. It was just a nice and comfortable situation to be in, and you expected you and him to part ways at some point.

You just didn’t particularly expect it to be now.

“Jungkook!” a strong voice shouts from the back of the shop, startling you. It’s quickly followed by a curse, and then a man walks in, glancing back with a worried expression, tying an apron around his waist and adjusting a small black hat on his head. You notice the ‘Jungkook’ tag on his apron, and it makes you soften in sympathy. The second his eyes fall on you, he recomposes himself, and shoots you a smile that’s professional, though the nervousness doesn’t quite disappear. “What can I do for you?”

“I was just looking,” you say, and he leans forward, probably straining to hear. Your voice has always had that weird tendency to become inaudible when you’re talking to strangers. “You don’t have anything with strawberries, do you?”

“I’m afraid everything we had went yesterday,” he says with a sympathetic frown.

“Oh, right,” you mumble. You’re disappointed to a stupid degree, and you know it’s because your emotions have been running wild recently, to the point where any small contrariety threatens to make you cry. Fortunately, you don’t, right now. That would be horribly embarrassing. “Um, I guess I’ll take that box and, uh, the éclair, please, then.”

“Of course!”

His movements are quick and precise as he takes it out, and you could be mistaken, but you think he’s deliberately not looking at you. You’re not particularly blaming him for it, though, because you’re doing the exact same thing.

“Anything else?” he asks once he’s done, and you shake your head, avoiding eye contact. “For here or to go? We’re also a café,” he elaborates when you give him a surprised — and slightly panicked — glance.

“Oh. To go, please,” you say, not so much because you actually want to, and much more because you’re bad at changing your plans when you had already made your decision.

Except… You eye the bakery. It’s not like you have anyone to come back to, and you don’t particularly want to be back at your apartment to wallow alone. You might even get some things done while you’re here.

“Um, actually, would you mind if I…?” The question dies on your lips. You’re already feeling too embarrassed to continue, but he looks up, eyes wide, and nods.

“No, no, please take a seat! Do you want something to drink as well?”

“That— That would be nice, actually.”

“Alright, just give me a second and I’ll bring you our, er, menu.”

It’s not a menu, it’s a list of drinks the owner printed and coated with plastic, and insists on calling a menu, but he isn’t going to tell you that.

You pick a table that faces the door, and after choosing and ordering your tea, pull out your computer. It’s not that the things you have to do can’t wait, but you don’t like sitting alone doing nothing. The shop is desperately empty, and part of you is terrified by the idea that Jungkook could come over to talk to you. That would probably end up not being completely unpleasant, but you’re not sure you can handle that much interaction with other human beings right now.

While scrolling through the text you are currently working on editing, you pick a chocolate out of the box to eat it and hold back a satisfied moan at the taste. The fact that it’s so good makes you feel a little more upset that you’ve never been in a relationship for Valentine’s Day and therefore have never been given anything like that.

It’s always been bad luck really, because you’ve been in a few relationships, but even with your last boyfriend, the two of you were on a break in February. The others never made it longer than a few months, and never fell at the right time. It’s not even like you want to celebrate Valentine’s Day, you do think it’s mostly a commercial holiday, and you definitely don’t want any expensive gift, but you’d be happy to have someone by your side to make fun of other couples with. Someone to love you, and someone to love.

God, you want to be in love so bad. For a few months, you thought you had it with your ex, and maybe you did, for a moment, but it had slipped from your fingers without you managing to do anything about it, leaving you sad and empty. You want to feel everything the movies and books promised, the butterflies in the stomach, the rush in the beat of your heart. You want to feel like someone holds your world in their hands. You want them to love you back — really love you, so much that you’ll catch them looking at you and see it in their eyes immediately, so much that they’ll remember how you like your tea in the morning.

You don’t think your ex ever loved you, and you don’t really blame him for that. He liked you, certainly, and for a long time that was enough for you. But now, with it being over and him telling you he’d ‘met someone’, you want more out of your next relationship.

Then again, you’d thought that last time as well.

You’re grateful when Jungkook brings you your tea, tearing you away from thoughts you really don’t want to be having right now. He gives you a smile, then is quick to retreat back behind the counter, and something tells you that he has the same difficulties talking to people as you do.

That can’t make his job fun.

You’re soon able to immerse yourself in your work, much to your surprise. Usually, you’re hyper aware of your surroundings, and it’s hard to get work done unless you’re in a place that’s both quiet and familiar, but the atmosphere in here is so warm and pleasant that you’re able to relax and focus, all while drinking your tea and eating your sweets. It’s quite close to perfect, actually.

Which is why you jump violently when someone’s voice booms into the shop.

“Jeon Jungkook!”

You look up, panicked, and Jungkook turns around with the exact same look on his face. You don’t remember the doorbell ringing, so it has to be someone from the shop, and indeed, a tall man with short black hair walks in from the same place Jungkook entered. And your brain short-circuits.

It doesn’t happen all that often, for you to simply find yourself frozen because of how good-looking someone is, but in that case, you just can’t help it. The man who just walked in is tall, with very nice, broad shoulders, and the apron he is wearing underlines the muscles of his chest in ways you didn’t think were possible, but more than that, he’s also, quite possibly, the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. When you glance at his plump, full lips, you find yourself having a hard time to tear yourself away. You’re relieved that you didn't have to order from him, because you’re sure it would have made you blush and stutter.

“Jungkook, there’s a mess in the back! What are you waiting fo—” Jungkook gives panicked glances in your direction, and the man catches your presence from the corner of his eyes, turning his sentence around as smoothly as is humanly possible, all while his lips curve up into a professional smile. “Ooh, hello, dear customer! I don’t think we’ve seen you here before, have we?”

A smile spills on your mouth, much to your surprise.

“No, it’s my first time here,” you answer. Your voice isn’t as strong as you’d like for it to be, but at least you didn’t choke. You suppose still being heartbroken serves as a shield against the man’s handsomeness. “I figured there’d be some discount after Valentine’s Day, and I was hungry, so…”

“You figured you’d kill two birds with one scone?” the man asks while Jungkook, behind him, silently smacks his forehead. You figure he’s heard it a million time before, but you haven’t, and you can’t help but laugh. That makes the man’s smile widen genuinely and his eyes crease.

“I guess you came up with the bakery name,” you chuckle.

“Absolutely. Isn’t it a great name?”

Jungkook shakes his head in disgust.

“It’s genius,” you say, and the man slams his hand on the table.

“See? I told you! Jungkook keeps saying that I have a terrible sense of humor—”

“I’ll be in the back if you need me,” Jungkook grumbles.

“Hey, what do we say to customers?”

“Ah— It was nice to meet you!” he says, turning around to look at you and he seems somewhat sincere. “I hope we’ll be seeing you again.”

Then he bows his head politely and disappears in the back of the shop. The other man — who you suppose is the owner of the place — watches, laughing fondly, but goes quiet after that, so you go back to your work.

You don’t stay around too long, not wanting to overstay your welcome, but you’re still the only one in the shop by the time you decide to walk out.

“Was the tea any good?” the man asks as you walk by him.

You nod and smile.

“And the chocolates were delicious,” you add. “I’ll make sure to come back.”

“That’s music to my ears,” he says, dramatically putting a hand on his chest. That’s when you notice the ‘Seokjin’ tag on his apron. You don’t know what to do with that information, though. You don’t call strangers by their first name and you also don’t stalk people on line.

Especially not when you don’t have their last name.

You say a quick ‘goodbye’, then walk out. Jin’s eyes follow you for a few seconds, before he sighs and turns around, already taking off his apron.

“Jungkook!”

The boy is quick to appear again, scanning the shop for your presence.

“She’s gone?” he asks, and Jin gives a slap at the back of his employee's head with a groan. There’s no strength in it, though, and Jungkook barely reacts to it.

“How could you run away like that, you little—”

Jungkook easily avoids him when Jin tries to him it again, laughing at his outrage.

“We’re not going to be getting a lot more clients today, are we?” he asks, looking outside at the passers-by that don’t even spare a glance at the little shop.

“No,” Jin groans, letting himself fall on a chair.

The depressing calm that follows what is possibly the busiest day of the year for him is just one of the reasons why he absolutely despises Valentine’s Day.

February 22nd

When you show up at the bakery again, about a week later, you’re feeling surprisingly good about it. Last time went well, you decided, and the people were nice, so you’re not afraid to throw a quiet but polite “Hello!” when you walk in. It’s kind of funny — or is it sad — how it always surprises you when people are nice to you, much more used to passive disinterest at best.

There’s another man in the shop this time, with a laptop and a coffee in front of him, but he doesn’t look up at you. A head lifts up from behind the counter though. You feel vaguely embarrassed that you remember this one is Seokjin, and you only feel more awkward when he gives you a dazzling smile.

A glance at the display tells you that they have restocked on their strawberry-based pastries, and you happily pick a slice of cake for yourself.

“For here or to go?”

“I’ll have it here,” you say with a smile. You feel strangely proud of yourself for being able to say it spontaneously. He has no way of knowing it, but it’s quite the victory for you. Usually, you try to run from the presence of others as fast as you can, and it’s even worse those days. “And I’ll also have Darjeeling tea with it, please.”

“Coming right up, just take a seat and I’ll bring it to you,” he says, and then he winks. He doesn’t stick around to see the surprised look on your face, so you just do as he told you, wondering if he was flirting with you or if he’s just Like That. You think that second explanation might be the answer.

“It’s nice to see you again,” he says when he arrives with the cake and the tea. You’re pretty sure he can’t place you exactly, just thinks your face is familiar, but it still makes you happy.

He tells you he hopes you’ll come back when you leave, and you decide you want to believe it.

June 1st

You’re not sure when you become an official ‘regular’ at the bakery. Maybe it’s when you ask Jin if they even do scones, and he leans over the counter to tell you conspiratorially that he actually wanted to call the shop ‘bake it ’til you make it’, but was told it was too long. That elicits a brief burst of laughter from you, and Jungkook tells you to stop encouraging him, but Seokjin looks so happy with himself when you laugh that you decide not to listen to him. Jin has that way of breaking past your shyness that fascinates you. It might be what keeps you coming back, more than the delicious sweets and how beautiful the two workers look.

Or maybe it’s when Jin tells you that it’s not fair you know their names but they don’t know yours, and that he’d ask you for your ID before selling you stuff if you don't tell him. When you tell him, he repeats it a couple of times, like he’s tasting it, before nodding with satisfaction. After that, him and Jungkook start greeting you with it, and insist you do the same with them. You’re reluctant at first, feeling somewhat confused about the whole thing, but it turns out to feel… nice, to have people to greet, and who also know your name.

Maybe it’s when Jin tells you that you’re late when you come in, or complains when you don’t show up on one of your usual days because you had a meeting with your boss. He doesn’t say anything on the day where you take your pastries to go because you’re visiting a friend at the hospital, though, and you wonder if he can just tell. Regardless, you appreciate it.

You find out about other people who come here frequently, too, and especially the ones who are friends with Jin and Jungkook. Namjoon, who sits with his laptop at the opposite end of the café from you. Yoongi, who usually sits in the same spot as you, and eyes you threateningly when he comes in and you’re there the first time, until Seokjin tells him to knock it off. Taehyung and Jimin, who always come in together, and who Jungkook usually joins to bicker and laugh with them. Hoseok, who likes to waltz in at random times, and whose smile actually rivals Jin’s.

You yourself come in twice a week, getting to your usual place to work — except on the couple of occasions where Yoongi gets there before you and gives you a triumphant smile when he sees you. You enjoy the way you’re always greeted by Jungkook or Seokjin, like they’re genuinely happy to see you. You discover that the old ladies who come here to gossip love to flirt with Jin and that, even though he flirts back outrageously, much to their delight, his ears tend to turn a bright red when he does.

You even bring your friends on a couple of occasion, and Seokjin jokes that you’re responsible for half of his turnover at this point. Your friends enjoy the food, and the drinks, but they enjoy the handsome employees and customers a lot more.

“So this is where all the hot men were,” Hana marvels when you walk out, and you burst out laughing. You like that you’ve shared this place with her, because it’s something that makes you really happy these days, motivates you to come out of your bed, and even to talk to people, something you’ve never been good at.

When you walk into the shop and make small talk with the people you’ve come to know, something you used to consider yourself terrible at, it might be silly, but it kind of feels like home.

June 21st

You are pretty sure you know when you go from regular to friend, though. It’s a day like any other and you hum on your way to the shop. Instead of the joyful “Welcome back, (Y/N)!” that you’ve gotten used to hearing these past few weeks, however, you’re greeted with Seokjin shouting “(Y/N), my savior!”.

You freeze on the spot and give him a worried look. From his table, Namjoon looks up, just as puzzled.

“Is everything okay, Jin?” he asks.

“Jungkook isn’t there today,” Jin tells you. His voice doesn’t sound different from usual, but there is a glint of panic in his eyes. “I need your help.”

Namjoon stands up.

“Why didn’t you ask me? I could—”

“Stay where you are and don’t even think of approaching my kitchen,” Jin says threateningly. “(Y/N)? Please?”

Well. You suppose your work can get done later. You’re more productive when you come here, so you have some advance on your usual deadlines these days. But you don’t know what Jin wants from you and you’ve never worked in a bakery.

“What do you want me to do?” you ask cautiously.

He grabs your shoulders and your eyes widen at the contact. Not that it’s unpleasant, just unexpected.

“I knew when you first walked in here that you were a godsend,” he tells you seriously, looking right into your eyes, and you tell yourself that if he’s that good of an actor, you should probably watch out. “We’re out of milk.”

You blink.

“Okay. Is there a specific type of milk you want?”

“Just, milk. Get me milk and I’ll worship the ground you walk on until the end of days.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics, and take your bag off your shoulder, handing it to him.

“Look after that, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll protect it with my life,” he says solemnly. “Also paper napkins please!” he shouts as you’re already walking out.

“Will do!”

“Bake a leg!”

You want to protest the joke that even you find to be quite bad, but the door has already closed behind you, so you just shake your head at him, only to see him laughing with satisfaction through the glass, and head to the nearest supermarket.

You come back with two big packs of milk and a lot of paper napkins, just as two men are exiting. You’ve seen them before, but they never stay to chat. Inside, Jin is juggling three women, and he looks more relieved than you’ve ever seen him when you walk in.

“I’ll help you with that,” Namjoon says immediately, bumping in the table as he gets up.

“If you break anything, I’ll kill you,” Jin warns him. He’s smiling like he’s joking, and his tone is light, like he doesn’t want to scare off his customers, but his eyes say he’s sincere.

You’re quick in the back, and Namjoon does drop the packs once, but nothing bad happens. He presses a finger against his lips to tell you to keep it a secret, and you grin without a word. Part of you is kind of wondering what you’re doing there, why Jin feels comfortable letting you in the back and why he asked you to do that, but you don’t have an issue with it, not by a long shot. This is… kind of fun, actually.

“Anything else you want me to do?” you ask Jin when you come out, and he looks at you in a pleading way.

“You don’t mind?”

Something tells you you shouldn’t accept too quickly, that you could end up in way over your head faster than you know. But his brown eyes are wide and desperate and you just can’t say no. So you smile and shake your head.

“Of course not. You look like you really need a hand here.”

“I do.”

That’s how you find yourself in an apron, with the cute, black hat Jin and Jungkook always wear on your head. Jin mostly sends you in the back to pick up things he needs, or makes you bring the beverages to the customers, which you’re thankful for, because that way you don’t have to greet anyone. Time flies quickly, and you can barely find a second to breathe for the first few hours.

“Sorry, it’s lunch time,” Jin grimaces as he passes you by, and you think to yourself that at least, it will get better, but it takes a while even after that, and when it’s done, Jin sends you to buy some more stuff from the supermarket, because as it turns out, things go fast.

Before you know it, it’s closing time, and you look outside in disbelief. The sky is starting to turn a nice pink, and other shops are putting up their shutters.

“You can go, if you want,” Jin tells you. He sounds terribly sorry, and that makes you feel bad. It’s such an unusual tone for him to have.

His offer is tempting, of course. Your feet hurt, your head aches a little from all the noise that never bothered you before but turns out to be a lot when you’re there all day, you’ve burned your hand against an oven, and you’ve found out that carrying things ends up really hurting your back. But you know that he’s experiencing the same thing you do, and you just don’t have the heart to abandon him here. Also, you’ve already lost your day, so you might as well help him out now.

“It’s fine,” you sigh. “Do you want me to help with anything?”

Cleaning up goes quietly in the main shop, and that soothes you a little. You don’t mind the silence, even enjoy it, and find yourself relaxing for the first time today. Surprisingly, you’re feeling… satisfied. It’s not something you would particularly look forward to doing again, but you’re happy you did it, happy you helped Jin, and you feel like you’ve accomplished something today, which is always a good thing.

“You have flour everywhere,” he tells you bluntly when you walk in the back of the shop, and you laugh.

“Well, it got everywhere,” you reply, trying to rub some off your face, and it’s Jin’s turn to laugh when you fail miserably.

You know you shouldn’t do it, but you gather a small handful of flour from the table, and throw it at him. A good chunk hangs in the air and makes you cough, but the rest does land on his apron. His mouth falls open into an ‘o’ shape and you know you’ve messed up.

“Listen, I am so sorry—”

“No you’re not,” he says, taking a step towards you. His hand is on the table, which is covered with flour, and you swallow.

“Sure I am, Jin, please—”

But your pleas fall in deaf ears, and flour is soon flying your way. It’s your turn to stare at Jin in disbelief, and then you’re laughing, loud and clear.

Maybe that’s the exact moment when the two of you become friends — really friends.

Or maybe it’s seconds later, when the room you’re in turns into the scene for an all-out flour battle. Regardless, you’re laughing the whole way through, when you’re not choking on the flour hanging in the air. Jin’s laughter is quieter than yours, miles away from the booming and somewhat fake laugh you’re used to hearing from him.

The fight only escalates when Jin picks up an egg. You shake your head, mouth ‘no’, but he doesn’t listen, and after that, things get a lot messier. By the time the two of you, exhausted and bent in half because of how much you’ve been laughing, finally stop, you can feel yoke trickling down your back, and you know the sight can’t be pretty. Jin reaches out to you in a useless attempt to wipe some flour from your face, only to laugh more when it, of course, fails once more.

You try not to think about the jolt of electricity that ran through you when his fingers came in contact with your cheek.

“I’ll clean up in here,” he tells you, “but you should go take a shower upstairs.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, surprised. Suddenly, you’re very conscious of the fact that you don’t know him that well. In recent months, you’ve talked to him more than you do with your close friends, and you did just throw several eggs at him, but you don’t know him. You’re aware of the fact that he lives above the shop, but you’ve never been there. The two of you have never even exchanged numbers.

He makes dramatic hand gestures to signal you to get away, like you’re bothering him, and you leave with a last laugh. You don’t notice the way he looks up when you do, or the way it makes him smile. He can’t help it, he just loves that he makes you laugh.

You’re relieved to step into the shower, both because you’re happy to clean up and because there was something really awkward about being in Seokjin’s apartment for the first time, alone. The place was not quite as decorated as the bakery was, with paler colors. Walking through it, you had noticed big speakers, some books in a shelf, and a couple of cute plushes that you had had to resist not to fawn over. The place worked for him, you had decided. It was more understated than you would have expected when you had just started to know him, but it doesn’t surprise you anymore. Jin tends to be quiet when he doesn’t have to be ‘on’, and it’s something he doesn’t seem to feel he has to do around you anymore.

You sigh in pleasure when the hot water hits you, close your eyes. You’ve been craving it for hours now — long before the food battle with Jin. It helps relax your aching muscles, washes away all the sweat from the day, and you have to resist not to just let yourself fall down onto the floor. Your back hurts, but the worst part has to be your feet. You feel yourself gaining a lot more appreciation for Jin and Jungkook, who are always kind, smiling and polite despite all of this. The only thing that kept you from biting someone’s head off tonight was your crippling anxiety when it comes to interacting with strangers.

It’s almost funny now to think you used to feel that way around Jin.

You look around for some soap you could use, and in your search, you’re surprised to find shampoo that was definitely intended for a woman. You don’t know why you’re surprised. It’s no wonder that Jin would have a girlfriend, really, it’s the opposite that should shock you, but you still didn’t expect it. You force away the pinch in your chest. Jin is a new friend, you can’t have your heart fluttering like that.

You consider using it for half a second, before deciding that it would be very awkward if you came out smelling like his girlfriend. Instead, you do your best to get rid of any egg, and tell yourself you’ll wash your hair at home. You barely hear the sound of the door opening and closing over the water, and you’re startled by Jin’s voice outside the bathroom.

“You can take a towel from the chest of drawers,” he tells you, “and I’ll leave a shirt outside, if you want it.”

“Thank you!” you shout back.

Seokjin stands there a few seconds, before quickly shaking his head and walking away. He knows his ears are turning red, and he hates himself for it, but is it his fault, really? Is he supposed not to think about you, right now, in his shower, water running down your body? He never even thought to pretend he was that innocent.

He occupies himself by preparing a drink for the two of you, and then by cleaning around. He’s not particularly messy, though, and there isn’t much to do, so he ends up sitting on his couch, feeling awkward in his own house, and scrolling aimlessly through his phone. He freezes again when he hears the bathroom door open and close, guessing you’re picking up his shirt. Which means you’re— God what is wrong with him tonight? When did he regress to the state of a hormonal teenager?

He hopes he looks natural when you come out, because he’s doing his best for that. The nervous way he’s running his hands over his thighs would probably give him out, though, if you weren’t feeling just as stressed as him.

“I’m done,” you mumble, your shyness coming back, which you decide is to be expected in that situation.

It vanishes the second Jin looks you over and snorts.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, glancing down, and immediately you know that you’re probably ridiculous in his black shirt. It looks like it’s swallowing you whole. “It’s not my fault if your shoulders are that broad,” you pout.

“You look so small,” Jin chuckles. He sounds endeared, and if you noticed that sort of things, you would absolutely realize that his eyes linger on you in his clothes fondly — and a little longer than necessary.

“Want something to drink?” he asks, gesturing at the stuff he got out of the fridge when he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Sure,” you smile, letting yourself fall down on the couch next to him and pouring yourself a glass. The brief awkwardness that washed over you when you came in vanishes already, because of how comfortable you feel around Jin. He’s always been good at making you feel that way, and now he doesn’t even have to try.

“So, how did you find your day?” he asks you, and you look at him, surprised by his tone. He sounds quiet, cautious almost, like he’s worried about what your reaction might be, or that he could be bothering you.

“Fine,” you say with a shrug. “I can’t say I’d want to do it again— When is Jungkook coming back?”

Jin chuckles, and again, it takes you by surprise. It’s so… quiet. So discreet, compared to his usual attitude.

“He should be there tomorrow, don’t worry about it.” Then, he grimaces. “But seriously, thank you for helping out today. I owe you.”

“Yes you do,” you say with a grin, bumping your shoulder against his, trying to lift the mood a little, because he sounds genuinely worried. “Just offer me the tea next time, and I’ll consider us even.”

Finally, a smile forms on his lips, and he shakes his head dramatically, putting his hand over his heart.

“No, I don't think I could ever repay you,” he says, and you laugh at his antics, like you always do. He looks a little appeased by that, and that’s a relief. “Your back must hurt,” he says. “Turn around.”

You raise an eyebrow, but do as he says, startling when his hands fall on your shoulders. They’re large, engulfing you easily, but they also move gently as he slowly massages you.

“Oh,” you gasp, leaning back into him. This is— good. This is very very good. For a few minutes — or maybe much longer, you couldn’t tell — you just stay there, eyes closed, lips parted, focused on the delicious feelings of his hands gently rubbing all the pain and soreness of the day away. When he stops, it takes you a few seconds to come back down to reality, and maybe, just maybe you miss the feeling of his hands. “Oh,” you repeat, rolling your shoulders slowly. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Jin says. “It’s kind of my fault.”

You turn around, shaking your head.

“Seokjin,” you say. “It’s fine. I didn’t mind helping.”

“You’re too kind,” he frowns. “You shouldn’t let people take advantage of that.”

“I’m not!”

Then Jin smiles, in a way that only lifts one corner of his lips, and suddenly you feel— you’re not too sure. Something seems to melt inside you, something moves in your stomach like you’re free falling. You probably should recognize the feeling. It’s not like it’s anything new to you, and yet you miss it. You do something you almost never do in that situation, and you take a step back. You glance up from his lips, shoot him a smile, and get up from the couch.

“It’s getting late,” you comment. “I really need to go home.”

Jin is on his feet immediately.

“I’ll walk you back,” he says, concern flashing in his eyes.

“I’m good. It’s not that far and I need to clear my head after, you know, everything today.” You’re not sure you know, but Jin nods, though a little reluctantly.

“You’re sure?”

“Very.”

He sighs. He doesn’t seem too pleased about it, but you guess he doesn’t want to insist too much, either.

“Give me your phone,” he says, and when you hand it to him, he types his number in, pouting as he explains himself to you. “Text me when you get home, alright? Otherwise I’ll just worry all night, because everyone is so unreasonable, and just wants me to lose sleep, and—”

You take your phone back from him with a laugh.

“I’ll text you,” you promise, briefly putting your hand over his. That feels— normal, you decide. It’s not like your hands have never brushed in the months since you’ve started frequenting the bakery. It just feels fine, and whatever there was before could just be a false alert. But then Jin looks into your eyes, and the feeling comes back.

“You better.”

You practically flee the bakery. You’re trying to make sense of the whole thing in your head, and it doesn’t go over great. You let Jin know you got home safe, and then do your best to push the whole thing out of your mind when you go to bed. You refuse to think about it too much. Not because you don’t understand what’s going on, but because somewhere, deep down, you do. This isn’t— this isn’t something you do. You fall hard and fast, that’s— that’s your thing.

Sometimes it’s nice, others it’s disappointing, but most importantly, it means that when the relationship is over, your life just goes back to what it was before. It you ever had feelings for a friend, someone you’re so used to having around… You’re sure it would truly break your heart.

July 15th

Summer is horribly hot this year. Fortunately for you, your favorite bakery has started serving ice cream. There is air conditioning in the store, but with the door constantly opening and closing, gusts of hot air regularly reach even you. No one seems too happy with the situation, with Jungkook seeming to slowly come apart under the temperature. Even Namjoon has abandoned ship, leaving much earlier than usual today. He waved at you when he got out, and you waved back.

Who knew, maybe the two of you would actually talk next time.

Jin uses a lull in the otherwise busy afternoon to drop at your table, and you smile to him. You haven’t really gone through anything like that night ever since, and you decided it was just a one time thing. You were tired from the work, and you were touch-starved, and, surely, there was nothing there, other than you gaining a new friend.

Yup. Nothing to see at all. Even when he’s sitting next to you, trying to fan himself with one of the bakery’s menus, head thrown back in a way that makes his Adam’s apple even more prominent.

You never thought yourself as someone who particularly enjoyed necks, but it seems you were wrong.

Not that that has anything to do with feelings, of course. Jin’s just hot. You already knew that.

“Hey, (Y/N), what’s your favorite cake?” he asks you.

It takes you just a second too long to answer.

“Uh. Anything that has strawberries in it, I guess,” you say, and he nods, but he’s also frowning. “Are my tastes not up to par?” you grin, raising an eyebrow.

“Clearly, your tastes are great, since you keep coming back,” Jin answers immediately, with the confidence that you now know to be mostly facade, but that you’ve still come to love. “No, strawberries are good. I can work with strawberries.”

“I actually wanted strawberries the first time I came here,” you reminisce. “But there weren’t any left because that was after Valentine’s Day.”

Jin clicks his tongue in disgust.

“Worst day of the year,” he says, “though February is a bad month for strawberries in general.”

“You don’t like Valentine’s Day?” you ask, and if you were a dog, your ears would be perking up with interest. You’ve always loved to hear people’s opinion on the holiday, because it’s so divisive. “You guys must make quite a lot of money…”

“I’m wounded that you’d think money is all I care about,” Jin sighs dramatically, though the glint in his eyes lets you know that he’s only joking. “It’s just very busy,” he admits. “It’s a lot of work to prepare, people place a lot of orders, and we basically don’t get a minute to ourselves. Not to mention— do you know what it does to a person to know that the food he lovingly prepared is probably going to be eaten off someone’s body?”

You can’t help it. You burst out laughing. When you do, you’re completely unaware of the fond way Jin looks at you. He’s always liked that he made you laugh, from the very first day you came into the store.

“No,” you admit, “no, I haven’t thought about it.”

“Well I have to.”

“I’m so sorry for you.”

“I’m sorry for me too.”

Then Jimin practically waltzes in and energetically greets everyone in the room, including you, and Jin gets up to serve him and Taehyung because Jungkook looks like he’s about to collapse, and you don’t give much more thought to the conversation.

But Jin remembers that strawberry cake is your favorite.

September 18th

Somehow, you get roped into helping Jin with his grocery shopping. He sat at your table and complained about how Jungkook wouldn’t be able to help him that week, and you voiced your sympathy, and next thing you knew, you were in the supermarket with him.

Well, maybe you’d offered your help. Maybe you just didn’t want to admit it because of that time he’d told you you were too kind.

“You know, I thought I’d be helping you for the bakery,” you comment, “but this mostly looks like it’s for you.”

“I am the bakery,” Jin replies, and you grin.

You watch him as he carefully crosses item after item of his detailed list. You expected him to be messy, to grab whatever he wanted, but he is as meticulous with this as he is with the baking he does for his customers. Which is— strangely endearing to you.

“Most of what we get comes in bigger orders,” he explains to you once he’s done with that aisle. “Sometimes, we find ourselves missing some things…”

“Like milk.”

“It’s always the milk,” he sighs, shaking his head it brings back bad memories. “But that’s not an issue for a lot of thing, unless something very specific comes up. Like a customer wanting a pineapple pie.”

You tilt your head as he cautiously picks pineapples. You’re not even sure how you can tell if a pineapple is ripe, but he looks like he knows what he’s doing.

“That sounds… interesting?”

“It’s going to sound very interesting when I’ll make you carry half the bags,” Jin says, and you roll your eyes. Does he think you’re going to bail on him? You would never do that.

Well. Until your eyes fall on Minho, standing there, like he hasn’t simply vanished from your life six months ago. There’s a woman with him, and she’s laughing at something he said. You suppose she was the one he met — or maybe another one, there’s no way of knowing, really. But they look like they’re getting along well, and it— it makes you happy. You think.

“Huh,” you mumble. “That’s my ex over there.”

Jin looks up so fast you worry he might hurt his neck.

“What? Where? Do you need me to insult him?”

You’re about to say no when Minho turns around, and his eyes meet yours. He gives you a hesitant nod, and you think that’s going to be it, but then, after a few seconds of obvious inner debate, he makes his way towards you.

Great.

“(Y/N),” he says, a bit awkwardly. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” you reply softly and, much to your surprise, you mean it. You did your best not to let yourself miss him, but you suppose you did. It’s been a long time since you last saw him.

“This is, erm, this is Lisa,” he says, gesturing at the woman, who gives you a polite smile. It looks like she knows exactly who you are, and you suppose it must be uncomfortable for her as well. “My girlfriend.”

Yeah. You’d pieced that together. But then, Minho’s eyes move to Jin, and he raises an eyebrow, and you realize what he’s thinking about.

“Oh, this is—”

“Seokjin,” Jin says, extending his hand. “I’m her boyfriend.”

You’re sure that anyone looking at you can tell from your expression, from the way your mouth falls open and from the incredulous way you shake your head that that’s not true, but both Minho and Lisa are looking at him, and miss it completely. When Jin looks at you, he gives an imperceptible nod and puts an arm around your shoulders.

The warmth is— kind of nice. Maybe it even sends a shiver down your back, but you’re sure it’s because you’re still quite touch-starved those days.

Nothing else here.

“That’s great,” Minho says, and he looks relieved. “It’s great that you’re with someone.”

“Isn’t it?” Jin says before you can think of anything to answer to that. “She walked into my bakery and I just knew she would become my favorite client. Basically love at first sight.”

“Love at first sale, maybe,” you can’t help but answer, even if you know, reasonably, that you shouldn’t entertain him. You’re pretty sure he’s trying to show off in front of the two, which is really unnecessary, but you appreciate the gesture. “Jin makes the best cakes you can find in the whole town,” you tell them. Not to show off, but because it’s true. There are a lot of good things you could tell them about Jin, come to think of it. A lot.

“Maybe we should try it then,” Lisa says, smiling. She looks more relaxed than earlier, though you suppose she could also just be trying to get out of this conversation.

“Oh, it’s a must,” you reply sincerely, and Jin laughs, pulling you against his chest a little.

“She’s too nice,” he says, and you immediately protest that no, definitely not, he does, and you’re sure you look like a very annoying couple, because it doesn’t take long for Minho to clear his throat.

“Well, we have to go but it was— it was nice catching up with you.”

“Same,” you nod, and when he leaves, you can’t help but watch him. You don’t really feel anything right now. You were sincerely happy to see him, but it felt like running into a childhood friend you haven’t seen in a long, long time, and now have nothing in common with outside of those memories. Except it hasn’t been a life time since you last met him. Just a little over six months. Soon, he’ll just be someone you used to know.

You wish you were more upset by this. You wish there was anything that told you that what you had with him actually mattered. Instead, this vague indifference lets you know that your paths had probably diverged before the two of you even broke up. And that makes you kind of sad.

“Are you okay?” Jin asks. He has that quiet voice you’ve heard a few times now.

“I’m fine,” you nod, “but you really didn’t have to do that. I wasn’t— Minho and I aren’t— there really was no need.”

“I was happy to do it,” Jin says, and you notice how petty he sounds. “It’s always a joy to let an ex see how much better than them you’re doing.”

You laugh. You probably agree with him on that, but you’re not going to help feed his ego even more. Jungkook would probably never forgive you for it.

“I don’t think your girlfriend would like you doing that,” you observe, and Jin answers that remark with a blank stare.

“When have I ever said anything about a girlfriend?”

“Well, there was a bottle of shampoo at your place that—”

“So a guy can’t like having his hair smell like fruit, huh?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Wow, way to reinforce stereotypes, (Y/N). I expected more of you.”

He ignores your attempts at protesting and strides away from you. It takes you a few moments to catch up, because of his stupid long legs of his.

“If I had a girlfriend, I would never stop talking about her,” he lets you know while you’re catching your breath. “So don’t worry. You’ll know about it.”

“Duly noted,” you say. You maybe feel a little too happy about that new information so, to distract yourself from it, you change the subject. “So I’m your favorite customer?”

He scoffs and glances away from you, refusing to meet your eyes. He thought you hadn’t picked up on that.

“You’re a strong contestant, I guess,” he says reluctantly, and you laugh, not pushing it further.

“Anyway— Minho broke up with me a week Valentine’s Day,” you say. You’re not sure why. Maybe to let Jin that you’ve been over it for a long time.

“That’s rude,” Jin comments with a disapproving click of his tongue.

“He probably wanted to spend it with her,” you shrug. “When we got together, he told me he didn’t cheat. He left. So— I guess that was it.” Then there’s a laugh, and you can’t tell if it sounds bitter. You hope not. “I’ve actually never had a boyfriend for Valentine’s Day,” you confess.

The silence that follows is unusual for Jin. When you glance up at him, he’s just looking at you, and for a second, you think it’s pity you find in his eyes. But, from the way he frowns, you realize it could just be genuine sympathy.

“Would it make you feel better if I tell you it’s a terrible holiday that’s just there to sell things?”

“I already know that,” you chuckle, even if it does make you feel a little better. “I just want someone to buy me roses once, you know?”

Jin doesn’t answer, just looks at you, and something about the intensity of his stare makes you feel— feel things you told yourself you weren’t feeling for him. But then, you just ran into Minho, didn’t you? It makes sense that you would be all over the place emotionally.

“Anything more on your list?” you ask, and Jin blinks.

“Yeah, that way,” he says, sounding a bit off, but then he adds “More things for you to carry,” and you decide to brush it off.

But he stores the information in his mind. Strawberry cake and roses. Duly noted.

October 31st

“So do you actually like Halloween, or is this just another shameless cash grab for you?” you ask Jin when he brings you your tea.

You have to admit, him and Jungkook truly went all out for this. They’ve decorated the shop with pumpkins, and there are fake bats hanging from the ceiling. There are also themed cakes and chocolates shaped like spiders. It’s spooky, and it delights the kids that come in and ask the parents about it. You definitely appreciate the atmosphere it creates — and you also appreciate the way Hoseok jumped when he walked in front of the witch that lets out an evil laugh when someone passes the movement detector.

“Halloween is not terrible, I guess,” Jin says, like him and Jungkook don’t take a full day out of their schedules and bring in some friends just to decorate the shop. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” you answer sincerely, and Jin’s expression softens.

“Hey, we’re having a small get-together after closing tonight,” he tells you spontaneously. “Wanna join us?”

You take a second to answer. It’s not like you don’t want to — far from that — but there’s that voice inside of you that tells you that you’ve been weird around Jin, and you don’t want to be weird around him. You want to keep things as they are, because he’s such a wonderful friend to have around. You’d hate yourself if you changed that.

But if the point is to have him around, then surely, telling him no right now would be counter-productive, right?

“Absolutely,” you say with a smile, and Jin beams, and you feel all warmed-up inside.

You already know that you’ll have fun, and you’ll laugh, and he’ll insist on walking you him and you’ll tell him no. And it sounds exactly like how you want to spend your evening.

January 10th

You first meet Sungho on New Year’s Eve, at Hana’s party. The two of you click immediately, and you enjoy the familiar rush of feelings, the waiting for a text after you’ve given him your number, the anticipation of knowing where this is all leading, if everything goes right. After a week, you run into him at the bakery, or, well, you’re sitting in your usual corner when he comes in. He doesn’t see you immediately, but when he looks in your direction after a little while, you happily wave him over.

“You don’t usually come here, do you?” you ask him. “I would have seen you by now if you were a regular.”

He chuckles, flashes you a bright smile, and you smile in return. Sungho has a nice smile. He doesn’t laugh easily, though, from what you saw when you met him, which is a shame, but definitely not a dealbreaker, even if you love to hear people laugh.

“No, I saw you were talking about this place a lot online, and I figured I would come and check it out. Of course, seeing you here is the best part,” he adds with a wink, and he leans towards you a little. The obvious flirtation sends a wave of heat through your chest, and you don’t hesitate to lean forward as well, resting your elbow on the table and putting your chin on your hand. You enjoy the closeness, the proximity, the chase.

You pull away when Jin arrives with Sungho’s order.

“This looks great,” Sungho comments. “I’m glad (Y/N) advertised you so much.”

“Well, there’s a reason she’s our favorite customer,” Jin replies, smiling, and when you meet his eyes, they’re fond and— and something else that makes it hard to breathe for a second.

But the smile fades when Sungho takes a portion of his cake with the spoon and offers it to you.

“Wanna try it?” he asks, and you do, because you know everything Jin makes will be amazing. You’re not sure you love the gesture itself — it’s kind of cute, but you’ve also just met him and it feels a bit strange — but you still giggle and take the bite.

And all Jin can do is stand there, looking at the two of you. He feels something he has felt before, and it’s that he let something he wanted pass him by. He waited too long to make a move, once again, and once again, it’s cost him something he doesn’t know how he’ll live without, and now he’ll have no choice but to figure it out.

You glance up, and he catches himself, plastering a smile on his lips.

“Enjoy yourselves!” he says, a little too loudly, and he knows, from the way you blink and the puzzled look you give him, that you’ve noticed and it’s— it’s horrible. It’s horrible that you know him that well and that you’ve seen so many facets of him and you’ve chosen someone else. You don’t ask anything, though, and he’s quick to leave.

He’s also quick to ask Jungkook to replace him in the shop, and he, very deliberately, doesn’t ask anything about how things went. Doesn’t want to know if you kissed, or worse, if you left together.

He’ll be fine. It’s not like it’s anything he hasn’t been through before.

February 5th

You feel impossibly excited when Sungho asks you out for Valentine’s Day. You gush about it to your friends, a lot, and Hana is delighted for you — and very pleased that her circles of friends are meeting like that. Jungkook sounds happy, too, though slightly more reserved, but you get the type of enthusiasm you wanted from Jimin and Taehyung.

Jin gets quiet when you let him know, though. It’s not something you haven’t seen before, but it does take you off guard, because you’ve never seen it happen while in the shop, where he’s usually on top of his game.

“Are you okay?” you ask, worried, leaning over the counter to put a hand on his arm. “You look a little under the weather these days.”

He smiles, but it lacks his usual flamboyance.

“Valentine’s Day is coming,” he tells you. “The worst day of the year.”

You laugh at that, relax, and take your hand off. You miss the way his eyes fall on the place you were just touching.

“Well, not this year, hopefully. Not this year.”

Yeah. He’s not so sure about that.

February 14th

It’s your first time, ever, having a date on Valentine’s Day, and you’re determined to do everything right. Sungho is taking you to a fancy restaurant, so you decide there is no issue in going all out. You take the day to prepare yourself, enlist Hana to do your make-up and hair, and you use the opportunity to wear a lovely bright red dress that you had been saving for a special occasion.

Hana whistles when you come out of your room after you’ve also put on half-transparent black tights.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” she says with an appreciative nod.

You glance down at your body self-consciously and try to smooth the fabric of the dress. You do think it looks pretty good, but you could be wrong. Does it show too much of your legs? Does it hug your curves too tightly?

“You think he’s going to like it?” you ask, somewhat shyly.

“He should if he knows what’s good for him,” she replies, expression turning murderous, before softening. “Just… Are you sure you want to be doing that?”

You give her a confused look.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know, going out with Sungho,” she says with a vague hand gesture. “I just— I don’t know. Do you like him that much?”

It’s funny. You haven’t really asked yourself that question. You’ve just been going through all the usual motions — the flirting, the dates, and, inevitably, the start of the relationship, which is probably for tonight.

“We— we get along fine,” you answer. “I like him.”

You leave the words ‘well enough’ out of that sentence. You like Sungho well enough. But then, that’s always been good enough for you, so why should it change now?

Hana seems to think about it for a little while, then shrugs.

“Okay then. Do you need my help to walk to the cab? I would not trust these things.”

She’s pointing at your heels, and it makes you laugh. These aren’t even that high, and they’re pretty stable. You don’t think you’ll have any trouble walking in them. Hana wouldn’t abandon her flat shoes to save her life, though, so you suppose the question was to be expected.

“You can just tell me if you want to hold my arm,” you tease, and it seems to take her by surprise, before she chuckles.

“You’ve gotten a little too good at that. I don’t know if I like it.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid Jin has infected me.”

That gives her pause, and she shoots you a weird look, but you miss it. She opens her mouth to say something, then gives up. She could be wrong, after all.

She kind of hopes she’s wrong, or that if she’s right, you’ll realize it soon enough.

The dinner is perfect. You’re dressed perfectly for the occasion, fitting right in the restaurant’s decor, Sungho complimented you when you walked in and you told him he looked great, which is true, the food is delicious, the conversation flows easily, and there are roses on the table. They’re not for you, part of the decoration, and it doesn’t look like Sungho’s gotten you any, which gives you just a little pinch of disappointment in your chest, but it’s also not a big deal. It’s fine. Everything is fine.

And you’re not happy with it.

You can’t place it, and it slowly drives you insane, as you and Sungho make your way through the meal. You try your best not to let it show, but you think he notices your increasing restlessness. You feel bad about it, because really, he hasn’t done anything wrong. You just— something’s not right.

Dammit. It’s your first time having a date on Valentine’s Day, and you can’t make it work.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Sungho says while the two of you are waiting for your desert, and you do your best to snap out of whatever is going on in your head to focus on him.

“Tell me,” you smile, though the smile is polite, rather than genuine.

He takes a deep breath and reaches over the table to take your hand. It’s far from the first time the two of you make physical contact, you’ve even kissed a few times, and it was nice, but something makes you want to recoil, in that moment. You don’t, though. Why would you? It doesn’t make sense. Nothing about you makes sense right now.

“I like you,” he says, and you find the breath knocked out of you. It’s not unpleasant, though, it’s very nice in fact, and it almost completely dissipates your previous discomfort. “And I think— you know. We haven’t said anything about being exclusive yet, so I figured I’d— ask.”

He looks pretty confident, which you thought would put you off, but it doesn’t. The answer seems obvious to you. It’s been just a little over a year since you broke up with Minho, which is a reasonable time, so your lips part to let him know that you’d be happy to—

It’s then that you remember. You remember what you told yourself after that break-up, and what you thought after the break-up before that, and the time before as well. You remember you told yourself you wouldn’t settle for less than what you really wanted. You told yourself you wanted to love and be loved. You told yourself you wanted someone who’d remember how you liked your tea.

And, just like in a movie, Jin’s face appears in your mind. You almost dismiss it, tell yourself it’s just because of the tea, until you realize it’s not. It just isn’t. You should have noticed earlier, you know that, but you’ve never been friends with someone before developing feelings for them. You’ve always told yourself you were an ‘all or nothing’ kind of person, that you were the type to know immediately if things could happen. Maybe you didn’t quite believe in love at first sight, but you’d always thought that love didn’t wait.

Apparently you were wrong.

Jin’s the one who inadvertently makes you pulse rush, when his hand brushes against you. Jin’s the one who lifts your spirits, no matter what. Jin makes you happy, makes you want to get up in the morning, has done that for months now. Jin actually knows you. Jin looks at you like you’re precious to him. Maybe that doesn’t mean love, maybe to him, it’s all just friendship, but to you, it’s much more than that. And the feeling you get is so strong, so powerful, that you understand that you need to tell him. Need to tell him now.

“I’m sorry,” you say to Sungho, who’s been waiting for an answer all this time. “I’m really sorry, I don’t think that can work out.”

His face falls, but he looks far from heartbroken.

“Oh,” he says. “Um. That’s—”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, already getting up from your chair. You’re buzzing with excitement, with feelings. “I have to go. I’ll pay for the meal, okay?”

“No, don’t—”

“Sorry!”

You stop at the counter briefly before rushing out into the night. You feel that you know exactly where you need to be.

You get to the bakery minutes before closing time, which is exceptionally at 9 p.m. for the day. A couple is just coming out, and that leaves only Jungkook inside. There’s nothing left on display, and you know it’s been impossibly busy, which means Jin is probably in a bad mood, but you can’t wait until tomorrow. When you walk in, Jungkook looks up from behind the counter, clearly surprised by the sound of someone coming in that late, and a puzzled look settles on his face when he notices that you’re out of breath, your previously perfect make-up now looking a little worse for wear.

“Is everything alright?” he asks. He sounds worried, and any other day you would take the time to reassure him, but in that moment you’re pushed by an energy that can’t be stopped, so you just nod quickly as an answer.

“Is Jin here?”

“In the back,” he says, tilting his head in that direction, and you’re pretty sure a glint of understanding lights up in his eyes.

“Can I….?”

He nods, a grin on his lips, and now you’re sure he knows why you’re here. You don’t wait for him to tease you about it, quick to make your way past him.

You freeze the second you walk into the backroom, though. It’s not just because of Jin’s back, though that definitely has more of an effect on you than you’d like to admit — the broad shoulders, the muscular back, and inexplicably, the nape of his neck. It’s also because of the large bouquet of red roses, standing in a vase on the table next to him. Your breath catches in your throat as you look at them. They look beautiful, vibrant, their fragrance floating through the room, all the way to you.

“Who are the roses for?” you ask, making Jin jump.

Any other time, you would have been pleased to take him by surprise for once, but right now you’re hanging on his words, waiting for an answer. The air feels heavy between you, and it doesn’t help that he doesn’t answer immediately, swallowing silently as his eyes travel over your body. You had almost forgotten about the dress you were wearing, and, instead of making you feel comfortable and confident, like it had earlier, you feel naked and vulnerable under his gaze.

Finally, his eyes meet yours, mouth slightly open, and by that point your heart is hammering in your chest. You wonder if he has any idea of how you’re feeling right now. Had he noticed your feelings when even you weren’t aware of them?

“What?” he croaks, voice dry, like he’s forgotten what you said.

“The roses,” you repeat. “Who are they for?”

You need an answer. Desperately.

Jin’s eyes move to the roses, and his face falls. He turns his back to you again as he goes back to whatever he’s cleaning.

“Didn’t you have a date tonight?”

You shrug, though he can’t see it.

“I broke things off with him,” you say lightly, and you don’t miss the way his movements pause, or the way his shoulders tighten, for half a second, before he keeps moving. “Are you— are you meeting someone?”

“No,” he protests immediately. “You know I don’t believe in Valentine’s day.”

You do. You remember that. So you wait for an explanation. It takes a while, and you just wait silently behind him, suspecting that he’s waiting for you to go away. After a few minutes, though, he slams his hand on the table, still not looking at you.

“They’re for you, okay? You said you’d always wanted roses for Valentine’s Day, and I figured, maybe your stupid boyfriend didn’t know that yet, and that I could maybe just drop them off at your place, and—”

“You didn’t ask me why I broke up with him,” you interrupt him, cutting his rambling short, and he falls silent. You catch his eyes from over his shoulder. Finally, you’re feeling yourself calm down, and at the same time you’re practically shaking with anticipation. “I realized I had feelings for someone else,” you say when he still doesn’t ask, just watching you, lips tight.

“…You do?” he simply says in reply. He’s tense, guarded, and you take a careful step towards him.

“Yeah,” you nod. Your eyes aren’t leaving his, not even for a second. “He’s smart, and kind, and handsome.” You take a step for each description you give, and you can’t help but smile on the last word. But your smile doesn’t reach Jin’s lips, and he’s just looking at you like he’s expecting you to tell him someone else’s name, or to make fun of him. “And he makes me laugh,” you add quietly, as you get to him, leaning against the table. “A lot. Some have even said it was a little too much.”

“So who is he?” he asks, and you smile. It’s wild to you that you haven’t understood earlier how absolutely head over heels in love with him you are, especially right now, when you’re standing so close to him. It’s also wild that he can’t see it, because you feel as though you’re radiating with that emotion, feel that anyone should be able to tell.

“It’s you,” you breathe out. “It’s obviously you.”

Then you’re pushing yourself up against his mouth, soft and slow. One of his hands closes around your waist as he leans forward, towering over you. His eyes are shut, and you close your own, reveling in the feeling of his warm body pressed against your own. You feel his tongue darting out to brush against your lips, and they part to grant him access, eager to taste all of him and—

“Couldn’t you tell me that earlier?” Jin protests loudly, tearing himself away from you, and your eyes snap open. “I would have planned the best Valentine’s Day you’ve ever—”

You groan and cut him off with another kiss, faster and harder this time, grabbing his wrists to guide his hands to your hips. You moan in contentment into his mouth when he kisses you back and he swallows it eagerly, pressing you into the table, bodies meeting like they’ve been waiting for it for forever and you—

“I wanted to make you an amazing strawberry cake! Now I don’t have any strawberries left!”

“Jin, please,” you sigh, unable to tolerate any other interruption, “would you just shut up and kiss me?”

And, finally, he does. Holds you like he never wants to let you go, kisses you like there’s no tomorrow, and when the two of you part, he rests his forehead against yours like he can’t bear the thought of being away from you even for a second. The silent stretches, comfortable, only filled with your respirations, until someone clears their throat, and the two of you jump away from each other.

“Sorry,”Jungkook says with a shit-eating grin that tells you he’s not sorry at all, “but I was about to leave. Will the two of you be okay?”

“I’m sure we can work things out without you,” Jin says. “Goodbye!”

But Jungkook doesn’t leave right away, turning his smile to you. You would hide into Jin’s shoulder, but you feel so good you can’t be bothered right now.

“Goodbye (Y/N)!”

“Bye, Jungkook!”

“That kid, I swear,” Jin says, shaking his head, as Jungkook leaves, his laugh hanging in the air behind him for a few seconds.

“I quite like him,” you comment, fingers dancing down Jin’s neck to come trace the border of his shirt.

“Oh, you do?” There is a dangerous edge to his tone and you glance up, surprised.

“Are you jealous?” you ask. “I didn’t know you were the jealous type.”

“I’m not.”

“Because it’s not Jungkook I abandoned my date for.”

“Good that you did. I never liked him.”

“So you are jealous.”

Seokjin mumbles something incomprehensible and you laugh and hug him tighter. And when he asks you if you want to come upstairs, even if he doesn’t have the perfect Valentine’s Day dinner planned, even if really, all he has to offer is himself, you tell him yes, of course.

Because he’s all you want right now.

It turns out, you wouldn’t have eaten the dinner anyway. The second the door closes behind you, you’re pulling him down against you for a kiss, and he doesn’t oppose any resistance, doesn’t protest like he did before, just lets out a moan into your mouth. He’s just as eager as you are to get rid of that tight dress.

“Careful with the tights,” you warn when his hands start roaming your thighs.

“Take them off then,” he groans.

You press a few kisses against his mouth, feeling delighted with the way he restrains himself, hands turning into fists against your hips as he stops himself from tearing off your closes. Finally, you pull away with a giggle. His eyes are wide and dark with desire, and they only get wider when you playfully slide off your dress’ strap.

“Don’t tease,” he says, practically growls, but you decide that you will. You guide him to his couch, push him down onto it, and evade him when he tries to pull you down with him, slipping out of his grasp. You stand just out of his reach, but more than close enough to be tantalizing, and you see in his eyes that it’s working just fine.

You take the time of making a show out of sliding down your dress down your body, letting it pool down at your feet before stepping out of it. The heels are the next thing to go, and then, finally, the offending tights. The second you’re out of those, Seokjin pounces, grabbing your hips and pulling you onto the couch.

“If you want us to move this to the bedroom, now would be a good time to say it,” he says as he kisses your neck, hands traveling up and down your body, large and calloused, but kind and gentle.

“I’m good here,” you say, arching your back to grant him better access — and to roll your hips against him. “Are you good here?”

You feel his breath catching in his throat when you move, as well as something hard pressing against you in his pants, and his voice is slightly choked when he answers.

“Yeah. This would happen at some point anyway.”

You laugh. You can’t wait to try this in all the places the two of you can think of in his apartment.

“Then let’s get to it, shall we?”

Jin doesn’t seem to have anything to answer to that, especially not when you hook your leg around his, using your heel to push him down on top of you. He’s still dressed, but you plan on rectifying that. You stop kissing him to work on the buttons of his shirt, and he lets you, breathing heavily. Your fingers explore the skin you reveal in the process, and you’re delighted when he shivers as you find out where his sensitive spots are — right under his collarbone, his nipples, his ribs.

Finally, the shirt joins your dress on the floor. You take a second to marvel at his body. His shoulders are even nicer to look at like that, you decide. You capture Jin’s mouth again, this time with your hands fisting his hair. You’re feeling yourself growing more impatient, wetter, and while your panties are the only thing still covering your body, he’s still wearing pants — which is far too much clothing.

“I want you so bad,” you whisper to him, and his breath catches in his throat.

“Fuck. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

That makes you grin, and you arch your back into him again, pressing yourself against his now rock hard crotch.

“Oh, I think I do,” you reply devilishly, and all Jin does is to bury his head into your neck. His fast breathing tickles your skin, and you love it. You love discovering that you have that effect on him, love how you can make him come undone. Another night, you might really, really enjoy teasing him about it, but you have something else on your mind tonight.

Your hand travels down his body to palm him through his pants, and he groans, bucking his hips against it involuntarily.

“Let me take care of that?” you offer, and he pulls away to raise an eyebrow at you.

Wordlessly, you guide him so he’s sitting on the couch, and then, without breaking eye contact, you drop to your knees. You watch as his eyes go wide and he swallows loudly. You don’t give him time to regain his composure, gently nudging his legs apart so you can place yourself there comfortably.

“Fuck,” he repeats as your hands travel over his thighs before unbuckling his belt.

He lifts himself off the couch so you can slide down his pants and underwear, and that leaves him in his naked glory. And boy, is he glorious, dick standing erect and proud, precum already dripping from the tip. You suppose it’s been a while since the last time he had any sort of intercourse, and so you decide that you will do everything that’s in your power to make it worth his while.

You do your best to maintain eye contact with him while you lean forward to gently take in the head of his cock, wrapping your red lips around it as your hand grips the base.

“Ah,” he gasps, and you wonder if he gets loud during sex.

You hope he does.

You mostly tease him at first, running your tongue over the tip, and you feel his hand grabbing the back of your head gently. He doesn’t try to control your pace or to push you down. He seems to just be anchoring himself as he lets you do whatever you want. Glancing up, you see that he’s thrown his head back and his mouth is hanging open, letting out quiet moans that sometimes get high-pitched.

For some reason, the sight of his exposed throat turns you on impossibly. You slide a hand down your body to try to get some relief as well, and you moan loudly when your fingers finally find your clit. The vibrations have Jin push his hips up as his hands tighten on you. A second later, his eyes snap open.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, “I don’t mind but— Do you have a condom somewhere?”

He hesitates, then reaches for the coffee table. He opens the drawer, rummages through it quickly, and finds what he’s looking for.

“Taehyung said it was good to have them all over the house, just in case,” he feels obligated to explain to you, even while he struggles to open it and to put it on.

Well, you owe Taehyung one, you decide, but now really is not the time to discuss that, so you pull him down for quick kiss before he can lose himself in his ramble.

“Want you now,” you tell him, and it sounds like an order.

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles, pulling you back up onto the couch.

Your panties are soon gone, and he spreads your legs open with utmost care. Even if you’re pretty sure he could just slide right in, with how wet you are, he pushes a long finger inside you, then another.

“You’re so wet for me,” he marvels. “So wet, and I haven’t even touched you.”

“Don’t flatter yourself too much yet,” you moan. “There’s still work to be done here.”

His eyes are full of love when he looks at you, taking in your body, now completely naked and offered. Just for him.

“Oh, I’ll do it. Don’t you worry about that.”

You’re about to call him out for his cockiness when he lines his cock with your entrance, tip rubbing against your folds, and you close your mouth instead, wisely choosing not to provoke him when he could so easily make you pay for it by making you wait. Except it seems he’s just as impatient as you, because he pushes himself inside you without pause.

You moan and shift to accommodate the stretch, and Seokjin goes still on top of you.

“Are you okay?” he asks. You’re satisfied with the strain in his voice, like knowing you’re not the only one to be so affected here.

“Hmm,” you hum. “Can you— move? A little?”

He pulls out a little, experimentally, and you moan louder than before. It takes you a few minutes to figure out the pace, as your hips keep moving, desperately searching for more friction, but they’re not unpleasant, filled with kisses, sweet nothings and the feeling of his warm skin against yours. In those moments, you feel like you’re discovering him all over again, and you find yourself enjoying that more than you can say.

Finally, you find yourselves, and the sound of skin against skin fills the room, along with your loud, high-pitches moans, and Seokjin’s — softer, quieter, but definitely there. You meet each of his thrusts, with one hand between the two of you to rub against your clit. When you first clench around him, he finally lets out a moan that’s as loud as yours.

“Fuck, fuck, fffuck,” he says, head falling against you, cheek pressed against your collarbone. “If you— If you do that again I’ll— Wait, please, wait, wanna— wanna cum with you—”

You arch your back, your nipples grazing against his chest, and force up the pace of your hips. Jin is moving incoherently, begging into your neck, and you want to give him exactly what he’s asking for. When you clench around him again, it’s with your orgasm. It’s all it takes to push him over the edge as well, but you barely feel his hips stutter into you, completely taken over by your own pleasure.

It takes you a little while to come back down from your high, and when you do, you meet his eyes. They’re soft and gentle, and, more than anything that’s happened until then, they make you melt.

“Hey,” he whispers, “you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, more than okay, in fact. You?”

“More than okay, too,” he says as a lazy smile spreads across his features.

“Good. That’s good.”

Pillow talk is not your forte.

“Hey,” Jin says, coming to rest his forehead against your shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

You chuckle.

“I think I’m in love with you too.”

“That’s good,” Jin says, but his voice sounds choked up, raspy, and you know he’s probably blushing. So you don’t add anything, just run your fingers over his scalp, the nape of his neck, down his back. Let him know you’re here, that you’ve got him, that you’re not going anywhere.

“Are you— are you staying the night?” he asks.

“Sure, unless you’re kicking me out.”

His arms tighten around you possessively.

“I would never.”

It takes a little longer before Jin manages to get the two of you off the couch to go get cleaned up, and then into bed, but of that night, there is not a second that you would call unnecessary or superfluous. Not one.

Every single one of them, every moment you spend with Jin on that first night, are essential, and you could not pick one of them to take back.

March 14th

The bell chimes happily when you walk into the shop, and even though Jin is busy with another customer, his eyes immediately find you. It’s something simple, yet it’s something you love about him. The way he always seems to find you, and the pleasant warmth that fills you without fail when you see him. You’ve been told that it was just the high of the first months of a relationship, not to get too used to it but you hope that, even if it dims, it won’t go away completely.

“Hey, Jin, your ears are turning really red. Why are your ears turning red?”

You laugh while your boyfriend turns to shoot a furious look at Yoongi. He’s sitting in your spot, in the back of the shop, and he’s looking smug. That comment of his has become a pretty common thing to hear whenever you walk in, or just when Jin and you are speaking. To be completely honest, you’re not too mad about it. Jin is good at acting like you have no effect on him, but the blush betrays him, and it’s been both cute and useful to see what actually gets to him, or bothers him sometimes.

“I’ll kick you out of my shop if you keep that up!” Jin shouts at him. “Don’t think I won’t!”

But Yoongi just chuckles into his mug, clearly not taking him seriously — and he’s probably right for that.

“So, do you know what today is?” Jin asks nonchalantly after he’s turned back to face you, gesturing for Jungkook take over with the other customer.

Your eyes widen in horror.

“Please don’t tell me you want us to celebrate our one month anniversary. I haven’t planned anything for that.”

Jin rolls his eyes.

“I would argue that our one-month anniversary is tomorrow, if we’re being precise, because that’s when we, um, really talked about it.”

He’s not wrong. It had been a pleasant thing, to wake up in his arms the morning after, to the sensation of his lips gently kissing your neck, and an even nicer thing to take your breakfast with him. You couldn’t pinpoint why exactly. It had just been what had absolutely and irrevocably sealed the deal for you. You knew it hadn’t been a mistake. You wanted to be with him.

“Hmm, but there is still some sort of anniversary to be celebrated tonight then,” you say, leaning over the counter. “I’m sure I could prepare something for that.”

His ears and neck flush, and Yoongi has the delicacy of not pointing it out this time.

“That’s not— That’s not what I’m talking about! Today is the white day.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“That’s when boys are supposed to give chocolates back to the girls they like,” Jin elaborates.

“But I didn’t give you chocolates,” you say.

“No, but you’re still the one who— Yoongi, I swear to God— You know. You’re the one who took the first step.”

Despite his recent outburst, it’s obvious that he feels embarrassed and vulnerable in that moment. You’d kind of gathered that he really regretted not asking you out before Sungho had, but you had never thought that it was actually an issue.

“I’m really happy I did,” you tell him quietly. He’s not fond of PDA, but you still allow your fingers to brush against his. That feels discreet enough.

“I know,” he says, and there’s so much love in his eyes when he looks at you that it’s a real miracle that you don’t melt into a puddle right then and there. “But I still—” He sighs. “You’re really ruining my plans. This was meant to go over smoothly.”

“Sorry,” you apologize with a wide grin while he picks something up from behind the counter.

“There,” he mumbles, handing you the box.

You open it, genuinely curious. You feel the eyes of everyone else in the shop — Yoongi, Namjoon, Jungkook and, of course, Jin — on you, and you want to tell most of them off, but you suppose that since this is where most of your relationship development happened, they’re kind of part of the story too.

The box is filled with chocolates shaped like roses.

“I know it’s not much,” Jin is quick to say, “but I just wanted to—”

“Jin?” you interrupt him.

“Y-yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you.”

His eyes go wide, and then he sighs, but he can’t force away the smile that’s forcefully making its way on his lips.

“Well, if you absolutely have to—”

But he doesn’t protest when you pull him over the counter to kiss him, hands gently closing over your shoulders. He even brings you back for a second, even briefer kiss, and there’s something fierce in his eyes then. He superbly ignores the cheers that come from your friends in the room.

“I have to warn you, you’re never getting rid of me now,” he says, and it’s light-hearted, but you know there’s a lot of truth behind those words.

“Good,” you simply reply. “I wouldn’t want that for the world.”

He looks like he wants to add something to that, but he chokes on the words, and he falls quiet instead. It’s just as good, really.

There are some things you don’t need words for.

Some things that can be expressed just as easily with a box full of rose-shaped chocolates.

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