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morizoras-cave · 4 years

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You need Rest

Tom Hiddleston x Teen!Co-star!Reader

Genre: Angst, fluffy ending

Description: You’re a young actor playing a new role in some of the marvel movies. Dealing with both school and work was an incredible stress on you, and your coworkers realize that when you mention it in an interview.

Warnings: Tiredness, slight depression, overworking oneself, not taking care of oneself

(A/N): we all need a tom in our lives. remember that if you’re overworking yourself, be your own tom! take some time to relax babyyyy

“Y/n, I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of amazed at your existence,” Jimmy Kimmel confessed and you grimaced at him, making the crowd laugh. You were currently in the middle of an interview with a couple of your co-stars, promoting the newest Marvel movie. “Well, hear me out now, you’re still in school, right?”

You nodded and the crowd applauded you. Chris Evans patted your shoulder and smiled at him.

“Well, how do you even make time for that? I mean, you gotta read the script, memorize your lines, act it all out, get into costume, do press, and still deal with school?”

You nodded again in response. The bags under your eyes had never felt more visible. “Yeah, I don’t have a lot of free time honestly. And I don’t sleep a lot. You do what you can, you know?”

“Do you have homework after this?” Jimmy Kimmel asked, looking at you with intrigue. You felt your heartbeat speed up, as you remembered all your homework. Your english, math, history, social studies.. It was all waiting for you on the other side of the interview.

“I do,” you breathed a laugh and the audience laughed along, but the co stars that sat next to you on the couch seemed less pleased. Your answer was honest, and there was a certain tiredness behind it. I guess they’d never really realized how much work you had to do.

“Well, isn’t that a lot of stress?” Jimmy proposed and under the heavy eyes of your coworkers, you felt the need to lighten the mood.

“Nah,” you joked, making the audience laugh, “I feel like I have it pretty under control.” Jimmy then moved on from your segment, and you dazed off during the rest of the interview.

_______________________

“Hey Y/n, you wanna go out with us and grab some Popeyes?” Robert asked, putting on his jacket. You were looking at your phone with tired eyes, reading yet another assignment given to you. You wanted to both cry and scream, but instead you just huffed in annoyance.

“Um, I’m sorry, what?” you finally ripped your gaze from the bright screen.

“Popeyes, you want it?” Robert repeated. Scarlett and Chris were watching you disapprovingly.

“Uh, no thanks, I have some schoolwork to do,” you gave them all a strained smile.

“Don’t you still need dinner?” Scarlett mumbled skeptically.

“I’ll grab something later, I just..” for a moment, as you sighed, you almost felt like giving up and crying, and letting all the stress glide away. You bit down on your tongue harshly and continued, “I just have a lot of shit to finish.”

Your coworkers reluctantly agreed, and soon you were driving back to the hotel. You were already typing on your phone, trying to finish your assignments as soon as possible.

For some reason, your teachers had been incredibly hard on you. You’d gotten one assignment after another, and you could hardly keep up. You couldn’t remember the last time you slept for more than 3 hours. You couldn’t remember the last time you really relaxed.

That’s why when you sat on the floor of your hotel room, papers and books scattered in front of you, finished with the math and the history assignments, yet still an impossible amount of work in front of you, you broke down.

Actually your body broke down. You felt extremely dizzy, so you stood up to grab some water from your fridge. However, as soon as you stood up, you legs felt like nothing, and they stuttered awkwardly before you collapsed to the floor with a thump.

Tom had insisted that the rest of the cast should also buy you some food, and so they bought a chicken sandwich, and drove back to the hotel. He took your food, hoping to see your eyes light up, when you saw the luke-warm-but-hopefully-good-enough food.

He knocked on the door once and waited. You didn’t answer. He furrowed his brows and knocked once more, this time calling for you, “Y/n?”. He called a few more times, growing increasingly worried.

Tom, as well as your other coworkers, had never really thought about how stressed you must be. You were always so bright and happy, but it seemed like lately your mood was dulling. The cast had had talks about your mood lately, and it only now clicked that you were probably extremely stressed and pressured to do good.

“Y/n, please open up..” Tom huffed and looked around, spotting a cleaning lady walking down the halls with a cart of bathroom essentials and room supplies. “Hey,” he called and she looked up at him, eyes slightly widening when she realized who he was, “can you get me room key? My friend isn’t responding..”

She nodded and walked over, swiping her card on your door. It clicked and chimed, and Tom thanked the lady, before opening and walking inside.

For a moment he saw nothing, really. He could see your endless stacks of paper on the floor, multiple books opened and text highlighted. He felt bad, realizing just how hard it must be for you. “Y/n?” he called once more.

He took a few steps into the hotel room and his eyes then immediately landed on you. Unconscious on the floor, previously hidden behind the bed, you lay. Tom’s heart skipped a beat, and he instantly ran to you, rustling you. He feared the worst, tears pricking his eyes.

You gasped as he shook you, opening your eyes. Your eyes were red and they ached and felt heavy. Everything was blurry, and you couldn’t make out the person in front of you. You just felt them embrace you, hugging you so tight, that they shook.

“Y/n, oh gosh, what happened? Are you okay?” You recognized Tom’s voice and looked at him drowsily. His face was contorted into concern and fear.

“I-I don’t know. I’m fine. I just was walking over here and then I.. I fell down.” As you confessed how you fell, Tom’s hand found the back of your head, searching it shakily for blood. There was none.

Looking over Tom’s shoulder, your eyes found your homework. You were so, so tired, but you knew you had to do it all. You couldn’t let this job ruin your grades, so you gently pushed Tom away. He looked at you in confusion.

“Tom, thank you, really, for stopping by, but I gotta get back to this assignment..” you mumbled drowsily. Tom grabbed your wrist, and you looked at him in confusion.

“No, you are not, Y/n.. You need a break this. This.. This is too much. I mean you collapsed! You need rest..”

“But the-”

“No! No buts. I’m bringing you to bed, and then I’m calling your school and cuss them out for this despicable and insensitive behavior.” Tom said, his voice determined. He reached underneath you and picked you up, before placing you on your bed. It was so very soft.

Your eyes welled up in tears. That was what you needed to hear. That it was okay. That you’d done enough. That your grades didn’t define you and that it was okay to take a break for yourself. You felt so comfortable in your sheets.

You sniffled, and Tom looked up from his phone, where he was undoubtedly already contacting your school. “Oh, darling, don’t cry. Why are you crying?”

“No,” you shook your head, Tom taking his hand and placing it on your cheek, “this is a good cry. I.. I really needed to hear that, Tom.”

Tom smiled gently, kissing your forehead before pulling away.

“Alright now, you’re going to sleep for as long as you need. I’m calling your school and I’m also calling the heads of Marvel and informing them that you won’t be attending press for the next couple of days. You need some time to just relax. If you get hungry,” Tom, almost magically, pulled out a cold-but-hey-it’s-the-thought-that-counts-chicken sandwich, “I’ll leave this here chicken sandwich by your bed..”

You giggled and Tom’s heart warmed. It was the first glimpse of the regular you he’d gotten in a while.

“Thank you, Tom.”

“Yes, yes, you’re welcome,” Tom walked backwards out of the room. On his way, he scooped up your books and notebooks, barely fitting in his arms and smiled at you sheepishly. “I will be taking these..”

He gave you one last reassuring look, before he rubbed his elbow against the light switch, turning off the hotel’s light, and then closed the door. You wanted to think about Tom’s kind actions, and how happy you were, but you were honestly incredibly tired, and you were out like a light after 2 or so minutes. You ended up sleeping 19 hours, and afterwards you woke up and devoured your chicken sandwich, happier than you’d been in a long time.

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki layfeyson x reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #avengers cast x reader #avengers cast x teen!reader #avengers #marvel #thor #thor: ragnorak #loki

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readersperspective · 4 years

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Writing Advice Bilingual Characters

As some of you (who read my reviews) already might have noticed, I am bilingual myself. Sadly, multilingual people do not get represented well a lot in media, so yeah... some advice for writing them. It will certainly not capture every aspect of being bilingual, but it might give you a first idea.

There are different ways to be multilingual.

People who grew up with more than one native language will almost certainly speak all of them fluently. Most of them have two (their parents’ language and their country’s language, or the language of one parent and of the other) but I also know a family where the children grew up with four native languages (the mother speaks Portuguese, the father Italian, they talk to each other in English, and live in Germany, where the children grew up)

Some people speak two or more languages, but cannot write all of them - especially when the alphabets are not the same, for example English and Russian or Arabic. This affects mostly children of immigrants.

Some people can read and write a language quite well, but are not good at speaking or listening comprehension. Those people often learned the language at school with a bad teacher or by themselves with books and apps.

Some people, again mostly children and grandchildren of immigrants, can read and understand a language, but don’t speak it. Mostly, the parents decided to not teach the child the language, and they learned it themselves by listening to their parents talk to relatives.

Confidence can play a big role in this. I understand the dialect of my grandparents without a problem, but I would never try to speak it. I can’t even imagine forming those words with my mouth, and it would sound terrible.

People who learnt a language at school can reach completely different levels of that language. I started learning English at age 6 and am completely fluent by now. Other people in my class barely understand more than easy conversations in English.

Most people will do their very best to hide their accents.

If the person is not a native speaker, but fluent in a language, their accent will be a mix of whatever they can find at the moment. Media is a big influence in that.

Since I watch more British than American TV, my accent sounds a bit british, too. When I watched “Call the Midwife”, I often even unconciously copy the accent of Laura Main. I don’t know why her, but my brain just liked it, I guess.

Also, we will use words, phrases and sentence structures from so many different sources.

People who learnt English through the internet (aka most of the younger generation) will have problems to not use swear words when actually being in Great Britain or America. They just do not have the weight for us, since on the internet they get used all the time.

I have never in my whole live heard a multilingual person switch languages mid-sentence on accident.

We will do it on purpose, though, if the other part of the conversation understands both languages.

Also, we will maybe say the word in another language if we forget the meaning.

Multilingual people that are not natives in the language they usually use in their day-to-day life (immigrants, for example) will often count and calculate in their native language. For example at a restaurant where they calculate the price in their head, they will probably do it in their native language.

Conversations with multiple multilingual people can be very different.

If one person only understands one language, they will probably try to include that person by speaking the language they share. I can say from experience, though, that if eight native Germans that have varying levels of English language skills will sit together with one introverted Turkish person with medium English language skills, they will go back to German quite often. It’s not nice, but sadly natural.

In general, people will try to speak in their native language if possible. You can take two people that share a native language and also both speak English and let them walk around in London - they will probably speak their native language, no matter how well they speak English.

Multilingual people that share multiple languages will switch on purpose when they feel like they can express their thoughts better in the other language.

Many languages have taken words from English.

Especially young people take a lot of English filler words and phrases (or insults) and put them into their native language. “Help, mein Deutschlehrer überfordert uns mit Hausaufgaben, like, what the fuck, glaubt der wir haben nichts besseres zu tun?” Is a sentence you would absolutely hear from a German student.

Many young people that don’t live in Great Britain or America will not use these words and phrases around their parents. First of all, our parents often do not speak English as well as we do, but more importantly, our parents do not like us using English instead of ur native language.

Many professions nowadays have an English name, I don’t know why. What used to be a Hausmeister is now a Facility Manager. The longer the English phrase for your profession, the more likely you will not be taken serious by older people.

Once you have more than one native language, you learn new languages more easily, for some reason. I know a girl that speaks 7 languages, at age 20, 5 of them fluently.

"You speak English quite well” or phrases like that said by a native speaker can be the best compliment ever, or more uncomfortable than nice.

When you are translating for your family and hear that sentence, it is super nice.

When you are only speaking English, that sentence indicates that your accent is still heavy. You do not pass as a native speaker.

When you are a native speaker, that sentence is just weird.

You can indentify the people that learnt a language through reading by giving them words that are pronounced untypically.

For years I thought “precious” (a word that is heavily used on the internet, especially in fan communities, but not that much in school) was pronounces pree-ci-ous. I was shocked when I heard it for the first time.

There are situations where even quite fluent non-native speakers will not be able to understand or talk in their second language.

The first few minutes after standing up (although that can change when the person is really fluent)

When they are in great pain

When they are in great fear

When they are under great stress

Sometimes even when they did not use that language in the last few days

Translating in realtime is terribly hard and will fuck your head. When I was on holiday with my parents, I often had to read the information signs in museums or at sights for them and translate. It’s easier when you first read the text and then summarise it in another language, but trying to translate it sentence by sentence is painful and you will question your abilities in both languages.

This gets just more horrible when under pressure. While we were in England, a visibly stressed young woman came to us and asked us if we had 5 pounds, she had lost some money she needed to take the train back home. I repeated her sentence to my father. In English.

Also sorry to the poor worker at McDonalds who I talked English to while speaking German to my English exchange student.

People abroad will absolutely become friends with every person that they hear speaking their language. While being in London, we overheard a man talking to his son in German about taking a photo, and I immediately asked (in German) if I should take a photo of both of them together. We talked for fifteen minutes after that, even though we had never met before.

On that note, in tourist citys the people that try to sell things to tourists usually speak a lot of languages enough to say things like “Oh, I speak a bit of [language], too, but not well. Didn’t pay enough attention in school. You look like nice people.” Makes it so easy to sell things.

Idioms are literally hell. Best example has been in the news currently, with Greta Thunberg literally translating a Swedish idiom in a tweet not realising that “putting someone against a wall” means something totally different in English.

Idioms will be hell for you as a writer, too, though, as long as you do not fluently speak both of the languages or at least one of them is fictional, because it’s quite easy to mess up if you use idioms that jus aren’t normally used by people speaking that language.

Bilingual puns are amazing, but sadly rare.

Those are the things I thought of first... Maybe you can find some ideas or inspiration there for your characters, too. The best thing of course is to let someone proof-read your character if you are uncertain, but this hopefully already helped you a bit!

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greasykookietree98 · 3 years

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Worth the Wait | bbh

Pairing: ceo!Baekhyun x chef!OC (named)

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Baekhyun being the cringey dad we know he’ll become one day; also some slight angst if you squint real hard

Word Count: 7,5K

Synopsis: It was a calm Sunday afternoon in the Byun household, before Baekhyun got all sentimental again.

A/N: So after years of not writing shit and deleting all my old, cringey work, here I am, back with a fresh, new, cringey work. Consider it my “Hey! I’m back! Happy Valentine’s or whatever!” gift. Hopefully 5 years of English at a university helped me somewhat – constructive criticism is well appreciated!

“Dad, why do you keep calling noona a monkey?” the toddler inquired, sparkling eyes wide, munching on his favorite banana chips, while comfortably sitting on his father’s lap. Baekhyun brought a hand up to ruffle his son’s soft hair, earning a soft giggle from the 3-year-old. The house was peaceful this Sunday afternoon, almost idyllic even. Jaehyun was paying attention to his favorite cartoon while cuddling his father. Mina sat on the carpet in front of the couch, doodling mindlessly to her newest glittery notebook, occasionally taking a sip from her juice box. From the kitchen he could hear the clanking of dishes, the contact of knives and wooden cutting boards, a sure indicator that Mirae was working on something delicious.

Upon Jae’s question, Mina put her crayon down and turned with her entire body towards the two Byuns, her lips slowly forming into a pout. “Yeah Dad, why do you call me a monkey, but not Jaehyunnie?”

“Well princess, it all has to do with the time your mom and I started dating. Story time?” Baekhyun patted the couch next to his free leg, signaling for the 10-year-old to sit and cuddle him as well. With both kids in his arms, his smile widened as he fondly remembered the very beginning of his happy family.

“It’s so useless, Chae. He won’t want a second date after he finds out. Why put in all the effort?” Mirae sighed, defeated almost, as she threw the black dress on top of the pile of rejects on her bed. She was really getting tired of this whole procedure – getting all dolled up for a man, just for him to zoom out the moment she spoke out about her life, leaving her empty, unwanted, hopeless until her best friend came up with another potential date. Rinse and repeat. See, the problem didn’t inherently lie with Mirae. She was 28, lead a healthy lifestyle with a decent diet and regular workouts. She had a steady job, one she was actually enjoying, one she could be proud of – not everyone from her culinary classes ended up as chefs in top restaurants. She had an at least okay personality, she liked to think at least. All her previous first dates seemed eager to get her on a second date, until her worst (best?) trait came to play. Honesty. She couldn’t leave a date without spilling the truth about her little secret. The little secret weighed 16 kgs, liked to have her chocolate brown hair in pigtails and couldn’t go a day without her Tigger plushie. Her little secret was Shin Mina, her daughter from a previous relationship.

It always ended the same way. The men usually let her down slowly. Kind smiles, small promises of ‘see you soon’ before never texting her again. There were some, of course, who were appealed that she did not have this information readily available from the first second, did not have it plastered on her forehead – or her cleavage, for easier visibility for that matter. These men got angry that they wasted precious time and money on a women who already gave birth to someone else’s spawn – their words, not hers. She tried to react the same way to all of them. A small apology, a gentle smile and a tiny goodbye. She then entered her small apartment, went straight to Mina’s room to check on her sleeping daughter, pressing a soft kiss on her cheek before going out to the living room. The living room where her best friend, frequent babysitter and constant matchmaker, Chaeyon waited for her with tissues, ice cream and warm hugs. It always ended the same way.

“Well for a start, this guy actually had the guts to ask you out – in person! Not on a dating app, not with some horrible pickup line, what if he’s really different?” Chae reasoned enthusiastically, throwing another dress Mirae’s way. It was rich coming from her, considering she was the one running Mirae’s dating app accounts, “filtering out” candidates before setting dates up for her. But she had a point. This guy, Byun Baekhyun, really was different. Never had a customer in the restaurant she worked at complimented her cooking while also noting her lack of wedding ring and asking smoothly for her number. Never had a man asked her every hour or two whether she was having a good day and if she remembered to drink enough water – even before their first date. Baekhyun was a natural charmer, which could’ve made everything easier. Instead, Mirae felt it would just be an even bigger disappointment when he deleted her number from his contacts with disgust in his eyes.

Because let’s face it, Baekhyun was perfect. Fit, handsome, easygoing, yes. He was the CEO of his own company, Privé, one of the region’s hottest fashion and skin-care brands. If she were to go by the loud laughs of the friends he was dining with, he seemed fun to be around and for some reason she got the impression he would be amazing with kids. With his own kinds, preferably, she added. Cause why would a man of his caliber want to have to do anything with someone else’s child?

“I can’t build my daughter’s future on what-ifs, Chae… I’m sure it’s not good for Minnie either. Seeing her mom go away for nights and seeing her all sad the next morning. I think I should just stop. Mina’s enough for me, I will always have her and she will always have me. Yeah, I don’t need a man to live a happy life!” She started rambling as she suddenly got up from her bed.

“Okay, okay, calm down, fighter. You’re not wrong, you’re independent, you’re strong, you don’t need anyone. I’m also sure Mina is more than content to just have you and no one else. But! Mommy needs a little love sometimes, too.” Chaeyon winked, earning a slap on her upper arm from her friend. “Seriously, don’t leave Baekhyun hanging. Just this one last time, give this whole ordeal a chance. If it doesn’t work out with him, either, I promise to delete your dating profiles and not set up you with anyone, ever.” She promised, a hand rising to his chest.

“I’d really appreciate that, Chae. I really appreciate you. Thank you for everything you do for me, for us.” Mirae pulled her best friend into a bone crashing hug, then grabbed the silky dress from her hands and went into her bathroom to get ready for her last date ever, potentially.

Baekhyun waited anxiously in front of the restaurant. Wasn’t this too cliché? Bringing a chef to a restaurant for their first date? He scolded himself for listening to Jongdae’s advice – “You can get to know her the best this way, also, a way to anyone’s heart is through their stomachs”. Sure, Jongdae already had a family, so his advice should’ve sounded legit. Well, she didn’t seem to protest, even let him pick the location. She didn’t let him pick her up, tho, insisting that she can just take a taxi.

Honestly, Baekhyun was never one to ask someone out so openly. Sure, he knew how to use his charms and words to his advantage, as it was how he fought his way to the top of his field, but flirting never came to him so naturally. What was he even thinking? Sure, his friends wanted to compliment the chef personally, a practice he always found cringeworthy, but the moment he saw her, all common sense was thrown out the wall-to-wall window of the five-star establishment. She gave him the time of day though, so he must’ve done something right.

Just as he lifted the bouquet of yellow tulips to his nose – for one last closer inspection, he told himself -, a car stopped in front of his black Audi. If he didn’t know any better, he would say it was an angel emerging from the taxi – in his mind, he wasn’t too far off, it was her. Thanking the driver one last time, Mirae fixed the strap of her black bag on her shoulder, scanning her surroundings carefully before meeting Baekhyun’s gaze. Her lips perked up into a small smile, and she made her way quickly towards him, him doing the same so they could meet halfway. Shy greetings were exchanged before Baekhyun handed her the bouquet. He blushed slightly, thankfully hidden in the darkness of the night.

The date was – for a lack of a better word – exceptional. While Mirae was completely ready to listen to endless hours of boring business talk from the young CEO, Baekhyun seemed a lot more interested in getting to know her than most of her recent dates. He asked about her childhood dreams, her deepest fears and most memorable trips and told her about himself in return. The conversation was balanced and Baekhyun was not opposed to taking her recommendations in consideration when it came to choosing appetizers, wine or dessert. Dessert! She couldn’t even remember the last time she and her date stayed until dessert. However, the closer the end of the date seemed, the more tense she got. It was soon time to tell him. It was soon all come crashing down again.

“Let me drive you home” Baekhyun spoke up, breaking her out of her momentary haze. Seeing as he was just putting away his credit card, it was clear he has paid for everything already.

“Did you really pay for all of this? Let me pay half of it” She protested, not even reacting to his initial proposition. A smile creeped up on his face upon seeing her surprise. Gosh, did he wanted to surprise her more in the future.

“Maybe I’ll let you pay on our second date” He mentioned while helping her put on her coat. “If you’ll want to meet me again, that is.” He added, a glimmer of hope etched into his voice.

It won’t depend on me, honestly, she wanted to add, but chose to just smile at him kindly. They exited the restaurant and Baekhyun didn’t need to do much convincing to let him take her home. She could enjoy these last few minutes with him; and it would be easier to just walk up to her apartment with her heart broken once more.

The car round was silent on her part. Baekhyun played music on a low volume, but tried to upkeep small conversation. He could sense that something was off. He couldn’t have imagined this spark between them back in the restaurant. He could swear her smiles and laughs were genuine and she truthfully seemed interested in him. Byun Baekhyun, the 29-year-old human, not Byun Baekhyun, the CEO, the ATM on two legs. Did he say something? Was she offended that he paid the bill?

“Hey, is everything alright?” He questioned after parking the car right in front of the address she gave him. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. If I did, I’m terribly sorry.”

“No, no, that’s not it-“ Mirae took a deep breath and unbuckled her seatbelt. Turning towards him, she inhaled deeply once more. “I really enjoyed everything today. I can’t even begin to tell you, how much. You’re wonderful, so I think you deserve full honesty from me.” She fumbled with her fingers, voice suddenly small. “This is the part where all of them change their mind, so don’t feel bad at all, I understand.” Baekhyun would’ve lied if he said her words didn’t concern him. What was she talking about? After another deep inhale, she looked up, deep into his eyes. “I have a daughter, 4 years old, from a previous relationship.”

“Okay, and?” was Baekhyun’s immediate response. He was honestly expecting something truly terrible, jarring, something a lot worse.

“And? You’re not – I don’t know – mad? Disappointed? You don’t want to kick me out of your car as soon as possible?” She queried, absolutely puzzled by his reaction. “You really don’t have to act nice, I sincerely understand if you never want to see me again.”

“I feel like you’ve had some pretty big assholes bring you on a date before, hm?” He gave her a lopsided smile. “If anything, I admire you even more. You’re a single mother, you work a tiring job and still make time for hopeless men like myself. But I think this is a bigger topic, something we could discuss on our second date. What do you say?” He leaned over to her, pressing a small kiss on her cheek. Her exes grew twice their size – because of his words or the small peck, she wasn’t sure.

“I-… You really won’t stand me up, right? Because if you’re planning to do that, just do it now. It would be easier for both of us.”

“Hey, I promise, this is not me pushing you away with an empty promise to never call you again. This is me, wanting to hear you full story, in a place and time you’re comfortable in. I don’t think my car’s the most ideal. How about this? Give me your phone?” She was so dazed, she put her phone in his palm without question. “This is my address. Which night are you free this week? Our second date can be at my place, I can cook us something, we can eat and watch a movie, and when you’re comfortable, you can tell me everything about her.” He gave back the device, sure enough with an address typed into her notes.

“I could make my Wednesday night free, if that works.” She answered shyly. The inside of the car was getting hotter with every second. Or was it just her? Was it because this man could not be real?

“Perfect, it’s a date then. Want me to pick you up or do you just want to drop by at 7?”

“Chae, you don’t understand, he’s perfect.”

This night, tissues were not spared. Ice cream was eaten, but not in sorrow. Mirae felt like she was floating on cloud 9. Maybe she was. Maybe it was all a dream – it sure seemed to good to be true.

“Oh, is he now, Miss I Don’t Need A Man?” Her friend teased smugly. Oh, she was never gonna live this down.

“No, really, I still can’t believe he wants a second date. What if it actually works out?”

“Oh, we’re building on what-ifs now, Drama Queen?”

“Shut up!”

“Mommy, you look really pretty!” Mina exclaimed excitedly as soon as her mother exited her bedroom in her light jeans and blush colored blouse. She felt a lot more relaxed than in last week’s beautiful but restricting dress. “and happy, too!”

“Thank you, sweetie” she cooed before she swept the little human in her arms. “Do you promise to behave for eonnie while mommy’s not home, like you always do?”

“Of course, mommy!” She clapped her tiny hands together, right before leaning in and leaving a big smooch on her mom’s cheek. “Who are you meeting, mommy?”

“I’m just visiting a friend I met this weekend, honey. I might be home late, so go to sleep with Chaeyon eonnie, okay?”

After making sure Chae had all necessities at hand to deal with her little princess, Mirae put on her boots and coat, kissing her daughter one last time before exiting the apartment. This time, she decided to drive to Baekhyun’s instead of calling a taxi. She was a bit early, as she liked to be, when she parked in front of the simple family house in Gangnam. Was it really where Baekhyun lived? Wasn’t he living alone? Before she could question herself any longer, Baekhyun’s tuft of chocolate hair appeared at the front door, cheerfully waving towards her car. Quickly exiting and locking the vehicle, she hurried to the door with a bottle of wine in her hand.

Baekhyun really outdid himself with the preparation. The table was set nicely for the two of them, and from the dining room she could see the living room couch decorated with soft looking pillows and blankets. While he was opening the wine bottle, she took a good look at the table full of side dishes and delicious food. Baekhyun’s soft voice, only slightly above a whisper, snapped her out of her thoughts. “I realize this is now the second date I took a chef on a date where she had to eat food probably worse than she can make at home, but I hope you don’t mind too much.”

“And this is the second date I’m wearing my own clothes instead of the ones you designed, yet you don’t seem too bothered about it either” she joked lightly, hoping to ease his nerves – and simultaneously her own, too. A genuine smile appeared on Baekhyun’s face before his chuckle filled the whole room.

Once they sat down and started eating they easily fell into conversation. How their week went so far, the plans they had for the rest of it. It was so easy talking to each other, almost like they’d known each other for far longer than the week they actually had. And just like before, Mirae could feel the heavy topic of her private life creeping up on her. As if reading her mind, Baekhyun spoke up, wine glass in one hand. “You know, you don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with. But I’d really like to know about your story, your daughter.” And yet again, with only a few words he managed to put her mind at ease, as if it was the easiest thing on Earth to tell him everything. He suggested moving to the couch, leaving the empty dishes on the table. He started clicking buttons on the remote of the TV, a seemingly endless list of movies appearing on screen shortly after. While he was reading through the titles, Mirae made herself comfortable between the pillows and blankets. “Have you seen Enola Holmes? I never got around to watching it.”

“I haven’t either, we can watch that” she replied, smiling at him when she realized he turned his whole body towards her when he asked for her opinion. After starting the movie, he also made his way to the couch, sitting down a bit further away from her than he would’ve originally liked to, but he didn’t want to invade her personal space. Not yet, at least. He grabbed a pillow and put it in his lap, pulling his legs up on the couch so that his body was turned towards her. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, her body also turned towards him, her lips curling into a nervous smile. “Mina’s 4 years old. She’s going to kindergarten now and she absolutely loves it. She only made two friends, but she plays with them all the time and I’m really happy she could fit in. I was really worried, her not having a father when all her peers are picked up by theirs almost every day. She still sees him once every month, but I don’t think she enjoys spending time with him.”

“Oh, so he’s dad is around?” slipped out of Baekhyun’s mouth before he could think it through. Eyes widening in panic he tried saving the situation. “I mean, that’s good, right? Or is it? I’m sorry, I don’t even know what I’m saying” his rambling earned him a hearty chuckle and a small smile.

“Yeah, I’m happy that he finally came around and wanted to see his daughter. I mean, I wasn’t expecting much when he left with another girl only a week after I told him I was pregnant” she mentioned bitterly. It was a hard topic, not something she could take lightly, but it was her kneejerk reaction to stress. They continued like this, Mirae talking about her horrible experiences, white slight jokes sprinkled into the stories and Baekhyun reassuring her for the best of his abilities. Honestly, he could’ve easily gone out and beat the guy to a pulp for what he has done to her and her daughter. He knew better though, he knew she was fully capable of dealing with that jerk as much as she needed to, but he just couldn’t help this overwhelming urge to protect her at all costs. He was sure once he met Mina, he would feel the same about the little girl, too.

“Do you want to see some pictures of her?” she asked shyly, and Baekhyun accepted within a fraction of a second. She scooted closer to him on the couch, his legs returning to the ground to give her space beside him. With her phone in hand she opened her gallery, full of pictures of food and a little girl. With every picture she showed came a small story – it started raining when we were in the park, she loves puddles, so she immediately jumped into one and she wanted to dress as Remy from Ratatouille, but we decided to stick with Colette in the end. With every little piece she revealed of herself, Baekhyun’s arms inched closer and closer, to the point where it was no going back from hooking his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. While caught off guard, she didn’t seem to dislike his close proximity. The movie still played in the background, but neither of them knew what the story was about. She put her phone away after a while, cuddling into his side and leaning her head on his shoulder. It all just felt right. With her previous dates, Mirae was always cautious about skinship and touching, but with Baekhyun it all seemed to come naturally.

Once the end credits started rolling, Netflix already recommending the next movie to watch, Baekhyun reluctantly left his comfortable cocoon, and with that, her embrace, to turn the streaming service off. Mirae was almost dozing off underneath the warm blankets, and he hadn’t the heart to disturb her peace. When he started walking towards the dining area, all intentions of cleaning up, she also rose from the couch, following him with a smile plastered on her face. “Need help?”

“You’re the guest, no work for you here” he answered softly, pestering a small kiss on the top of her head. His gesture made her cheeks heat up, momentarily speechless as he started cleaning up the aftermath of their dinner. With him refusing her help, she sat down on a chair next to the dining table, watching him move around the space smoothly. “There’s a carnival just outside the city, do you think Mina would enjoy it?” A kitchen towel was flung across his shoulder, dirty plates in one hand, empty wine glasses in the other. The implications of his question were deeper than she was prepared for. She honestly hasn’t thought much about introducing anyone to Mina lately, since she didn’t have any worthy candidates. Baekhyun, however, was different. She had no doubt Mina would warm up to him easily, he seemed to have that effect on anyone he wanted to. Wouldn’t it be too soon though? How long should she wait? These times, she really wished there was a guidebook to dating as a single parent, telling her exactly what was right and what wasn’t. But there wasn’t, and she decided then and there: she would give Baekhyun a chance.

“Mommy, can I bring Tigger to the carni-war?” Mina asked excitedly, jumping around the living room with her favorite plushie in her hand.

“It’s called a carnival, honey” she corrected her, pulling down her fluffy baby blue sweater to make sure she was properly covered in the chilly autumn morning. “And I think it’s best if Tigger stays home today. What if we lose him? He’ll wait for you to come home, right here” she placed the toy on the couch, sitting up. “Now go grab your bag, sweetie, Baekhyun will be here soon.”

She didn’t even need to finish her sentence, her child was already running down the corridor, towards her room. Last night they had the big talk. Mommy’s friend, Baekhyun was coming over and taking them to the carnival. Mommy’s friend, Baekhyun is really nice and she doesn’t need to be afraid of him. Mommy’s friend, Baekhyun is really excited to meet her, so she should behave. Mommy really likes her friend, Baekhyun, just like in the movies, so she needs private agent Mina’s help to determine if he really is a good man. She hoped being a girl on a mission would ease Mina’s mind enough to not be too nervous around Baekhyun. She wasn’t particularly afraid of strangers, but she tended to be shy. Mirae was also afraid she would associate spending time with a grown man to spending time with her father, which she always threw a fuss about. She always said her dad was boring, that they just watched cartoons and ate fast food when she was at his place. Mirae scolded him every time for this, but things never changed. Just as Mina arrived at her feet, Hello Kitty backpack on her shoulders, there was a knock on the door. “Woo, he’s here!” the toddler exclaimed and Mirae couldn’t help but chuckle as she went to open the door. There he stood, dressed in his own streetwear, eyes shining, grin wide, with a bouquet of yellow tulips in his hand. After letting him in and thanking him she excused herself to the kitchen to search for a vase. When she came back, to her biggest surprise, Baekhyun was crouching in front of Mina, handing her a very small bouquet of various colorful flowers.

“Shin Mina, what do we say?” She scolded playfully, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Thank you!” She bounced happily, running towards her mother with the flowers in her hand. “Mommy, look”

“It’s really pretty, sweetie” Mirae picked her up, the little girl already too heavy for her to carry for longer periods. “Let’s find a glass you can put them in so they don’t get sad.”

After putting their flowers in water, the two girls returned to the smiling CEO, Mina still having an excited bounce in her step. They were soon leaving the apartment, Baekhyun carrying Mina’s car seat to install in his car before letting Mirae strap her in the proper way. The drive to the carnival wasn’t too long, especially since Mina for some reason couldn’t keep her mouth shut. She kept telling stories to Baekhyun and asking him questions he never thought he would have to be ready for – Baekhyunnie do you think the sky is so blue because there’s so much water in it? Baekhyunnie why is unhealthy food so delicious and healthy food so- so- broccoli!. Mirae heavily enjoyed how flustered he got when trying to answer her nonsensical queries, trying his hardest to please the toddler with his answer.

Saying that Mina went wild at the carnival would be a big understatement. Colorful rides, delicious smelling treats at every corner, it’s safe to say she was nearly overwhelmed with excitement. She wanted to sit on every ride, eat a sample of all the food and never rest. Mirae also learned a lot about Baekhyun on that date. Like when they were buying sandwiches and Mina offered him a bite of her own, Baekhyun almost accepting before realizing with disgust written all across his features that it had cucumbers in it. Or when you were on top of the ferris wheel and he let it slip how utterly terrified he was of heights, only to let Mina drag you two into the line for the rollercoasters. The fact that he was trying tens of times harder to make sure Mina was enjoying her day than her own father ever did really warmed Mirae’s heart. That’s why when the end of the day approached and Baekhyun dropped them off she didn’t refuse the idea of a fourth date, and didn’t hesitate to lean up and seal their goodbye with a kiss.

From then on, Baekhyun was an engraved part of the Shins life. He would bring Mirae on dates every week, each of them drawing them closer to each other, and every week he would come over and spend a day with her and Mina. Sometimes they went out and did some outdoors activities – hiking was Mina’s favorite -, sometimes they just stayed inside and had fun with games and movies. That’s why Baekhyun’s revelation came as a shocking surprise after three months of officially being a couple.

He hadn’t finished his military service yet, meaning he would have to enlist within the next 6 months. Enlist, for 20 months. He was terrified to tell her this. He was too focused on starting his own company in the beginning of his twenties, so he pushed it off for as long as he could. He was horrified of what her reaction could be. Would she hate him? She told him her biggest secret on date one and he waited three months! What was he thinking? She, however, was absolutely understanding. A bit sad, a little upset, of course, but inherently she understand his want to focus on his career beforehand. She made him promise to contact her every week when he could use his phone and to not get hurt while he was serving in the navy. The moment she kissed him softly, reassuring him that she would wait till the day she came back, he knew she would be the one he marries.

The past 20 months were terrible for her, sure. Only speaking on the phone once per week, not even being able to see his face, since photographs were still strictly prohibited in the military, really took a toll on her. But being a grown woman she understood that he had to do this, that he will be back soon. Mina, now 6 years old, was a whole different story. She didn’t understand why Baekhyun stopped visiting, why he missed both two of his birthday parties since she knew him, why he was only calling once a week – not even videocalling, like her grandparents, but just calling! She really missed him, Mirae could see that. Never in her 6 years of life did she miss anyone like this. She had friends move away from their neighborhood, hell, she saw her real father only once a month. But this was different, Baekhyun was different. Mina could see how much her mommy missed him, too, and seeing her sad only made the little girl sadder.

“Does Mina know I’m coming home next Thursday?” Baekhyun asked at the end of their hour long conversation. Mina was already asleep, seeing as it was near 10PM. He would soon need to hang up.

“No, I didn’t want to tell her until you knew the exact day you were arriving. She really misses you, you know?” She smiled fondly, playing with a strand of her own hair. One week. He’ll finally be coming back in seven days. He’ll be discharged on Wednesday, but his base is so far from Seoul his friend, Chanyeol would have to drive late at night. So they agreed they’ll stay in a hotel near the base for the night, then drive home in the morning. You offered to fetch him yourself, but he insisted on surprising Mina, and he said that would give it all away. He may’ve had a point.

“Is she the only one missing me?” he joked. ”Good, don’t tell her. When can you pick her up from school? 4? Gosh, she’s already in school, I’m sure she’s grown so much…”

“Yeah, I can’t even pick her up properly, she’s so heavy” she giggled at his rambling. “She’s almost 120cms now, she really grew a lot. I wonder if you’ll even recognize her when we go to her school.”

“She has your eyes, of course I’ll recognize her! I really can’t wait, I missed you both so much. I have to go now, curfew, you know… I’ll text you when I’m near Seoul” he promised, a hopeful sigh prominent in his voice.

“Okay, take care. I’ll cook your favorite, no cucumbers.” She winked and even thought he couldn’t see, she was sure he knew. “I love you”

“I love you too, see you soon.”

“GPS says 34 minutes.”

“28 now!”

“Only 24 minutes and I’m back!”

“19 minutes, I can’t wait!”

She giggled, looking at her phone and the seemingly endless messages, before typing her response. “Wow, Chanyeol must really want to throw you out the window right now haha Door’s open, soldier.”

His messages didn’t stop, if anything they picked up in frequency. 17 minutes, 14, 13, 10, 8, 7, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, I see the convenience store, I see your street, I see the building…

By the time Chanyeol parked his car in front her complex she was already waiting on the sidewalk, immediately running to him and jumping into his arms after he exited the car.

“Fucking finally, if I had to spend another minute with him in my car, I might’ve driven into a tree on purpose.” Chanyeol’s grumpy voice sounded from the rolled down window. She let out a chuckle, thanking him for not killing his best friend before inviting them both inside. Chanyeol declined, taking out Baekhyun’s bags before waving goodbye and driving off. She smiled at him fondly, arms still around his waist. He bulked up a bit in the past year and a half, his shoulders broader than the last time she saw him. His skin was also a bit tanner, probably thanks to the time spent in the sun. What haven’t changed, thankfully, was his boxy smile and sparkling eyes looking deep into hers.

They spent the entire day in each other’s arms, exchanging kisses left and right, talking about anything and everything. Minutes before 4PM they were already outside of Mina’s school. Loud screams and laughter sounded from the playground at the back porch of the school, so they headed there straight away. Upon seeing Mirae, a teacher called out to Mina – Mina, mommy’s here – and the moment her big eyes found the pair at the entrance, she ran like her life depended on it, straight into the arms of Baekhyun who was already crouching down with his arms open. “You’re back!” she cried out, small sobs shaking her entire body. Baekhyun hugged her close, smiling up at Mirae sheepishly, clearly fighting his own tears. Giving them a minute of privacy, Mirae walked towards the teacher overlooking the crowd of playing children, to collect Mina’s coat and backpack.

“So is he the Baekhyun the whole school was hearing about lately?” she smiled at the mother knowingly. She knew Mina couldn’t shut up about how her Baekhyunnie was in the army and would be coming back any time now. Mirae nodded happily, exchanging a few words about Mina before she walked back to the two loves of her life. Mina’s arms were still tight around his neck, but he was standing up now, holding her in his arms securely.

“Honey, you’ll have to let go of Baekhyun eventually, or he won’t be able to drive us home” she cooed, pressing a reassuring kiss to the little girl’s cheek, rubbing her back slightly. “It’s okay, honey, you don’t need to cry.”

“Will you leave again?” Her voice sounded barely louder than the slight wind playing with her hair, but they both heard. Baekhyun kissed the top of his head, making sure she wouldn’t fall from his grip.

“No, princess, you won’t be able to get rid of me from now on.”

They stood there for five minutes, Mina not budging a milimiter, but her tears subsiding, before Mirae decided she would drive, while Baekhyun could sit in the back with Mina in his lap. By the time they approached Baekhyun’s driveway she was soundly asleep on his chest, him rubbing her soft hair slightly. Once parked, Mirae opened the back door and tried to get Mina off him, but even in her sleep she still wouldn’t stir. Once Baekhyun carried her into his home – cleaned biweekly by a cleaning agency for the past 20 months –, he sat down with her on the couch, waiting for Mirae to join them. Cuddled together, they talked in whispers, not daring to wake up the exhausted little girl.

For days after Baekhyun couldn’t get her to stop clinging to her like a koala – not like he really minded. He did need to go back to work though, having been running his company remotely with the help of his right hand, Chanyeol. Mina also needed to go to school, but he made it his mission to leave early enough every day and pick her up from school. He even had to carry her out to the grill party they organized in his backyard that weekend, a small event with family and friends to celebrate Baekhyun’s return. Well, that was the reason Mirae knew. For Baekhyun, this small event wasn’t precisely about greeting his parents and brother, his niece and nephew or even Mirae’s parents. He wanted them all there for one reason, and one reason only. The reason was snugly tucked away in the inside pocket of his blazer, the gem precisely cut, the size determined sneakily by sneaky texts with Chaeyon.

Mirae and their mothers were in charge of the side dishes and desert inside, while their fathers did the grilling. Baekhyun always loved seeing their parents getting along well – it seriously was more than he ever hoped for. Baekhyun sat down at the makeshift sandpit where his niece and nephew were already playing, supervised by his brother and sister-in-law, and encouraged Mina to join them. “Nervous?” his brother inquired, a hand resting on his shoulder.

“More than I imagined I’d be.” Baekhyun sighed, watching Mina enjoy her time with the two kids who he hoped could become her cousins soon. “What if she thinks it’s all too soon? I mean, it is, I just… Why wait when I know I want to be with her forever?”

“Hyunnie, you grew up quite a lot, didn’t you?” His brother’s grip on his shoulder tightened reassuringly, a proud smile sitting on his lips. “I can see she loves you as much as you love her. And I mean technically, you’ve been together for 2 years already. Sure, most of it was long-distance, but you both fought through it. Her kid also adores you, which I think is already a selling factor.”

“Still, I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my life-“

“Why are you nervous?” Mina appeared in front of him, hands full of sand, eyes full of wonder.

“Oh, nothing monkey, I just need to ask your mom a question after dinner.” he replied, grabbing her and pulling her onto his lap.

“But mommy’s not scary, I ask her questions all the time” she added innocently, snuggling closer to him. “Want me to ask it for you?”

“No, honey, Baekhyunnie has to ask this. And this is our secret, okay, monkey? Mommy can’t know I want to ask her anything.”

“Okay!” she playfully zipped her lips, before jumping off him and running back to play in the sand some more. He looked after her with fondness in his eyes, totally forgetting about the conversation he had with his brother before – or the presence of the older man for that matter.

“See? It’s like she’s been your daughter all along.”

“Should’ve guessed I’ll find you in the sandpit with the kids” Mirae appeared behind her, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her lips to his cheek. “Food’s almost ready, could you get the kids to wash up and sit in their chairs?”

“Of course, love” he turned in her arms, pressing a quick peck on her lips. “Need help with anything else?”

“Oh, no, your mom is running around like a rabbit on steroids, I think her and my mom got the table all set up already.” Oh, his mom. When they arrived earlier that day, Baekhyun pulled her aside – just like he did with his father and Mirae’s parents individually later on – to let her know about his plan. She was overjoyed, just like the rest of the parents, but he guesses she couldn’t fully contain her excitement like he asked her to do.

Dinner was going as smoothly as it could, with family member and friends talking in small groups about whatever they deemed worthy. Mirae turned to Baekhyun midway, looking at him like he brought down the stars for her, and kissed the corner of his lips. Did she knew? Did one of their mothers let it slip out? Maybe he shouldn’t have asked for their permission to begin with, it’s all ruined now- “I was thinking about switching workplaces. The restaurant chain is opening a new location in Gangnam, I’d have a lot more regular hours and I could be closer to you, as well.” She ran her hand down his lower arm until their fingers tangled together under the table. His surprised expression only caused her smile to widen. “What do you think?”

“I think you should definitely take the opportunity. And you should definitely move here, with me, you know, so you could be closer to work.” he answered dreamily, not believing how well this all played in with his plan. “Your lease is coming to an end either way, right? The elevator hasn’t been working for a while either, did they fix that already? And Mina could play out here every day, without you having to bring her to a park. And you know, we could wake up next to each other every morning, so that’s an added bonus-“

“Calm down, I was convinced by the time you mentioned the elevator” she joked, pressing another short kiss onto his lips. “Let’s talk about this after everyone left, hm?”

“Yeah, let’s” he spaced out, touching the hidden pocket with his free hand. “Actually” he let go of her hand suddenly, standing up from the table. Everyone looked at him, some expectantly, some curiously – including her. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time now. I-… I never thought that I would find the love of my life when I went into that restaurant two years ago. Honestly, I wasn’t even looking for a relationship, I was planning to finish my military service and then maybe start looking but then I saw you and everything changed. I was terrified of everything, of this newfound confidence you gave me, of disappointing you, or Mina, and when I was lying on my bed in the navy every day, I was terrified of one day losing you. I-… I don’t even know where I’m trying to go with all of this, I should’ve practiced more, but you just had to surprise me today, as well and… Just please, will you marry me?” He blurted out, now on one knee next to her chair, with the velvet box opened in his palm. He was too afraid to look at her for a second, but then remembered it’s her, he shouldn’t have to worry about anything. Both of Mirae’s hands were covering her face, tears quickly gathering at the corners of her eyes. Gosh¸ she wasn’t expecting this, not today at least, not for a while longer honestly. But just thinking about spending the rest of her days by his side made her extremely happy. She had no doubt Baekhyun is the one – but wasn’t this all too fast? Or was it? What more was she waiting for?

Without uttering a word she threw herself onto him, arms wrapping around his neck and suddenly she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. Free hand wrapping around her waist, Baekhyun tried shushing her, to comfort her. “I kind of need an answer here, sweetheart.”

“Yes, of course” she choked out, hugging him even closer before he grabbed her left hand, slowly sliding the shiny ring on her fourth finger before leaning down and enveloping her in the most romantic kiss they ever shared. Friends and family cheering, kids ew-ing, it all couldn’t be more perfect.

That was, until a year later, a day before their wedding Baekhyun was panicking, walking up and down the living room – their living room –, worried that they must have missed something during planning, something will go wrong and she will hate him forever. “Honey” She ran her arm up his arm, slowly wrapping both arms around his neck and tangling her hair into his soft, black hair. “It’s going to be fine. The wedding planner took care of everything, most guests are already in their hotel rooms, your tuxedo and my dress are waiting for us at the venue and I made sure the wedding cake is the best they could make. Everything is going to be just fine” she tried reassuring him, pressing kiss after kiss on his pouting lips. “Besides, I don’t need my husband breaking down on our wedding day, leaving me to take care of our two kids on my own.”

“I’m not going to-“ he protested, clearly not registering right away the secret in her last words. “Wait, what, two?” His eyes were wider than she’s ever seen them, and she could swear if she didn’t know he was nearing 32, she would believe he was 9 going by how cute he was.

“Oops, did I say two? Might have spoiled the honeymoon surprise” she added cheekily, carefully watching as Baekhyun’s smile widened to his ears before she could feel his arms crushing her bones as he pulled her close.

“I love you, so, so much.”

“I love you too, honey. You were absolutely worth the wait.”

“So, Dad, I’m monkey because I was clinging to you when you came back from the army?” Mina asked, pushing himself away from her guardian.

“Yes, sweetie.” He answered proudly. Jaehyun was already snoring soundly on his shoulder.

“Then why did you not just say that? Why did I have to listen to your whole story with mom again?” Mina whined. Just as she was about to give him a piece of her mind – like the scary, independent, full of anger 10-year-old she was – Mirae emerged from the kitchen, an apron still draped around her front. “Mom, dad is the worst!”

“Tell me about it, monkey” Mirae picked her up, ruffling her hair. With a big puff of air escaping her small lips, Mina crossed her arms.

“I hate that nickname.”

#baekhyun #baekhyun oneshot #hi i'm back?#forgot how i used to tag shit

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kerikaaria · 4 years

Text

If I Never Met You: Chapter 23

(??? X Reader) Idol!AU, Manager!Reader

Genre: (PG13) Some angst, fluff

WC: 3k

Warnings: None

Series Masterlist

Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24

Joon and I sat in the hallway outside while they did some testing to find out why Yoongi was in so much pain. I stared at my hands sitting in my lap, picking at my cuticles. My mind was empty save for one thing – Yoongi.

Namjoon placed a hand on my shoulder, making me jump a little as he brought me out of my trance. “Noona, he’ll be okay,” he said. “I’m sure of it.”

I could tell he was nervous just like I was, but he was doing what he did best as the group’s leader and staying calm and collected when his member (and even I) needed him. I had done the same up until now, but now that I was sitting down and able to process what was going on it was extremely hard to keep my emotions from flooding my mind.

“I-I know Joonie,” I replied with a half-hearted smile as I tried to hold back the anxiety I could feel creeping on me.

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder to pull me into his embrace, which instantly curbed the sinking feeling of anxiety, even if I didn’t feel completely better. Maybe because he was being the strong one, it made me feel like I didn’t need to be. I was their manager, I needed to stay calm and focused. But it was so hard, not knowing what was wrong with someone so important to me.

“I just…” I hesitated, trying to not mindlessly ramble. “It’s scary. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to him. To any of you.”

“Nothing’s going to happen, noona,” he said. “I’m sure it’s nothing major.”

I just nodded, not wanting to say anything else in fear of my mouth running away from me, and my mind with it. We stayed just like that, Namjoon holding me in his comfortable arms for a few more minutes until the door opened. The nurse signaled for the two of us to enter the room.

Yoongi’s test was done and he was now sitting in the wheelchair he was given since he could hardly support his own weight. Although by now, the painkiller they had immediately given him seemed to have kicked in at least enough where he wasn’t visibly in pain. I stood next to him, reaching for his hand which he let me hold without hesitation.

Namjoon was smart enough to ask for a Korean interpreter when we arrived, so as the doctor explained what they found from the test the woman translated for us. Even though I was fluent in Korean, there were a few areas where I didn’t need to really learn vocabulary. So while I knew mostly what she was saying, I had no idea what the word which I could tell was his diagnosis was. But based on Joon and Yoongi’s reactions, it didn’t seem like anything super serious.

And then I caught that they’re suggesting he get surgery very quickly, and maybe he should fly back to South Korea for it. Wait. Is it serious or not? I need to know what this is! Why does he need surgery?! I thought, feeling scared again.

When it didn’t seem like I’d be interrupting anything I asked Joon, “I caught all of that, but I don’t know what the diagnosis is. I didn’t expand into that kind of vocabulary. Do you know the English word for it?”

Joon thought for a moment before shrugging. “Sorry noona, I didn’t bother learning those kinds of words in English either.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak English well,” the interpreter said.

“It’s okay,” Joon said as he pulled out his phone. He typed into it for a minute, turning the screen towards me when he was done. He used a translate function to show me what the word was. It translated to appendicitis.

I hadn’t realized how tense I became until I felt my whole body relax at the news. Yes, he would need surgery, but it really wasn’t something we needed to worry too much about. Once he got the organ removed, everything would be fine. Although, he wouldn’t be able to dance for a while – which I’m sure was good news to him.

The doctor prescribed him antibiotics and a strong painkiller for him in the meantime until he could get back home to have the surgery. He recommended doing it that way since it wasn’t something that they had to do that very moment, so it’d be easier for him to rest and recover at home rather than staying a long time in a foreign hospital. Just as long as we got back as soon as possible to get it done.

As soon as I started driving back to the hotel, Joon texted Sejin to tell him we were on our way back and that I needed to talk to him once we got there.

“Wow, they’ve been blowing up the chat while we were in there,” he said. “I hadn’t looked when we were with the doctor. But everyone’s freaking out.”

“You’d probably better tell them I’m not dying then,” Yoongi chuckled.

“Are you feeling okay now, Yoongi?” I asked.

“Yeah, these pills are working wonders,” he said. “I’ll still take it easy though.”

“Good,” I said. “We’re getting you back home as soon as we can.”

“Who’s going with him?” Joon asked as he typed away in the group chat.

“I don’t know,” I replied. “I’ll need to talk with Sejin about that. I don’t think I can make that kind of decision on my own, especially right now.” I was calm enough to focus and function normally now, but I was still shaken up by everything that had just occurred.

“Seriously?” Joon said. “I don’t know what Seokjin hyung doesn’t understand about ‘we’ll be back in 10 minutes, we’ll talk to you then.’ He won’t stop hounding me about what happened.”

Yoongi laughed. “He’s like a parent sometimes.”

“Yeah, you could say that again,” I smiled.

We made it back quickly since it was rather late by now and there wasn’t much traffic at this time. While Yoongi wasn’t really in pain now and could walk fine, Namjoon still held onto his arm just in case he ended up needing the support anyway.

It was barely 3 seconds after we opened the door to their room that one of the other doors flew open and we were suddenly met with all of the boys and Sejin.

“Hyung!” Jimin called. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not dying,” Yoongi responded as he took a seat on his bed. “I’ll be fine.”

“What happened?” Hoseok asked, sitting next to him.

When he paused in answering, I thought maybe he was feeling uncomfortable telling everyone. “Yoongi, are you okay with everyone here knowing?”

He gave me a curious look. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I just wanted to make sure since you hesitated,” I said. “Where I’m from, medical records are considered private information so I didn’t want to say anything you didn’t want me to.”

“No, it’s fine,” he said. “I just spaced out for a moment. I’m tired.”

I nodded, understanding how much his body has gone through today.

“He has appendicitis,” Namjoon said. “Noona and I went out together for a little while and when we came back he was in a lot of pain and clutching onto his stomach.”

Jungkook hurried over to his hyung. “Are you still hurting?” he asked.

Yoongi shook his head. “They gave me some good painkillers so I feel great right now.”

I turned to Sejin. “They said he should go back home immediately and get surgery as soon as possible. They didn’t want to do it here since it’s something that could wait until morning.”

“So someone’s going to have to go back with him,” Sejin said as he contemplated our options.

“I figured I’d ask you what you thought,” I said. “I don’t think we should cancel anything here, the rest of the boys can stay. They shouldn’t be super worried since it’s not anything too complicated.”

“But you will be really worried,” Sejin said.

I tilted my head and pinched my brows together in confusion. “What do you mean, oppa?”

“I know you, (Y/n). If you stay here while Yoongi goes to have surgery, you’re going to spend every moment worried about him and will always want to check in on how he’s doing. Even if you do know it’s not that big of a deal.”

I stared at the floor and bit the inside of my cheek, but didn’t respond.

“You know I’m right,” Sejin said. “You should go with him. Besides, you live right across the hall from them so you’re really close if he needs anything.”

I nodded. “Okay oppa. I’ll go back with him.”

“I’ll text Bang, call him if he’s still awake and let him know. And I’ll get you guys your tickets for as soon as possible, hopefully for tonight. Make sure both of you are ready to go.”

“Thank you oppa,” I said as he left the room.

I realized how crowded the room was with eight people in here, but I didn’t think any of us really cared. The boys had to have been pretty worried so I wasn’t about to ask them to leave unless Yoongi felt uncomfortable. At least they all looked a lot more relaxed now than when they first came in here.

“Wait a minute,” Jin suddenly said. “Namjoon, you said you and (Y/n) went out together?”

Joon looked at him and nodded. “Yeah. Why?”

“What do you mean went out?” Taehyung said, looking back and forth between the two of us.

“Where did you guys go and what did you do?” Jin asked, sounding accusing.

“What…?” I was trying to figure what was up with this atmosphere, and Joon looked just as confused as me. Then it hit me. “Wait, no! No, no, no! It’s nothing like that!” Namjoon’s eyes widened as he realized what they were thinking too. “We just walked around to check out the city. And we stopped at a bakery before we came back,” I said.

“Hyung!” Namjoon said. “Why would you think something like that?” he asked.

Jin raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, I just wanted to make sure you guys weren’t hiding anything from us.”

I shook my head. “Speaking of the bakery,” I said as I grabbed the bags on the dresser. “We had brought back some snacks to share with you all. I hope they’re still good.”

They all brightened up at that. “You’re the best, noona!” Jungkook said as he hugged me from behind.

“We’re on a diet though,” Hoseok frowned.

I gave him a look that said I didn’t really care. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Hobi smiled back at me. “Alright, then I guess I can’t complain.” He turned to Yoongi. “Are you going to have some hyung?”

“No, I’m good,” he said. “I’m not really hungry. I just want to lay down and get some sleep.”

I remember lack of appetite being one of the symptoms of appendicitis so I wasn’t surprised. I didn’t want to push him just in case he would feel nauseous from eating when he didn’t feel up to it.

“Alright, let’s move this to someone else’s room then,” Joon said. “You get some rest, hyung. You need it. I’ll go ahead and make sure your stuff is all packed really quick.”

“Thanks Joonie,” Yoongi sleepily said as he laid properly on the bed and pulled the covers over himself.

Just then, Sejin came back into the room. “I got you guys tickets for three hours from now. We’ll leave in an hour and a half. I’ll drive you to the airport, so make sure you’re ready.”

“Thank you oppa, I really appreciate it,” I said.

“Of course,” he smiled. “We’ll do anything for our boys, won’t we?”

I smiled back and nodded. “Definitely.”

“Awwww!” Taehyung suddenly exclaimed. “That means I won’t have any chance of sitting next to noona on the plane and getting to snuggle with her!”

I lowered and shook my head while Sejin raised his eyebrows at the boy’s outburst and the others just laughed.

“What are you talking about Tae?” Sejin asked.

“I was supposed to be next!” he replied, being completely unhelpful.

Sejin was very confused, so I just guided him out of the room with me as I went to pack my things. “Don’t worry about it, he’s just being Taehyung,” I said.

He sighed, shaking his head with a chuckle.

We got back to South Korea without any issues, and someone from the company met us at the airport to drive us right to the hospital. They already contacted the hospital as well to let them know we were on our way so they could prepare to do the surgery as soon as possible.

I had called Yoongi’s parents to give them the update when I was packing my suitcase. I knew if my child was going to have emergency surgery I would want to know what was going on right away so I wanted to make sure they were updated on everything. They said they couldn’t make it to Seoul to be here for him, but asked me to stay with him and keep them informed. Which of course, I was going to do without even being told.

It was a short surgery, but he was kept in the hospital until the evening so they could monitor him and make sure he was doing okay afterwards. Later the same day of the operation, the company released a statement to let fans know what happened and that he was okay. He was going to be resting for about three weeks or so, just to make sure he didn’t push himself too hard.

I was driving him home after being discharged, happy that everything went smoothly and he could take enough time to relax and take care of himself – something I’ve come to notice isn’t always a given and am thankful it is for our boys.

“You know, you didn’t have to stay with me the whole time,” Yoongi said from the passenger seat after a long comfortable silence.

“Of course I did,” I responded. “Why would I leave you there by yourself?”

“We didn’t even talk for most of the time,” he said.

“So?” I asked. “We don’t need to always talk or do something together to appreciate company.” I paused for a moment, a sinking feeling appearing my stomach. “Unless, my company wasn’t appreciated,” I said in as teasing of a voice as I could to try to hide my actual emotion at the thought.

“No!” Yoongi quickly responded, surprising me (and himself, I think). “It’s not that, not at all. I just don’t want you to feel obligated towards me or anything.” He mumbled the last part, but I was still able to catch it.

“Then there’s nothing to worry about I guess,” I said, both to him and myself. “Because I genuinely wanted to stay there with you.”

I saw the slightest hint of a smile on his face out of the corner of my eye. Honestly, why did I keep getting these moments of anxiety? I really needed to kick my mind back into shape.

We arrived home and I started dragging both of our suitcases into the building. Since we went right to the hospital yesterday, they were still in the car with us.

“Noona, I can take my own suitcase,” Yoongi said, trying to take it from me.

“No, I got it,” I insisted.

He sighed. “I was told not to lift heavy objects or stress my body, not that I’m not allowed to do anything at all. Besides, there’s an elevator. They fixed it, remember?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, but of course this was Yoongi and his stubbornness was on par with my own so he wasn’t backing down. I sighed in defeat. “Fine.” I let go of the handle so he could take it. I swear I saw a smug smirk on his face for a second as he passed by me.

I followed him into the room when he unlocked the door to their apartment. After closing it behind me, I looked forward and saw him giving me a curious look. “Aren’t you going to your own home?” he asked.

“Well, we practically share each other’s living spaces anyway,” I said. “Do you know how rare it is for me to actually have a quiet day when I’m at home? And then I spend a lot of time here too.”

Yoongi shrugged. “I guess. But still, why did you come in here instead?”

“I’m staying here until the others come back,” I said.

He blinked a few times. “You’re not serious.”

“I am. I already asked Jin if I could borrow his bed and he gave me permission.”

“No. No, you’re not sleeping here too.”

“Even the doctor said that someone should always be around to make sure you are eating and taking medicine on time, and to make sure you don’t do anything to overstress your body.”

“Can’t you just trust me that I’ll do that on my own?”

“I’m not taking any chances,” I said with a smile. “Besides, I don’t know about you but I don’t have any work to do since my work was supposed to be in Japan, and with nothing to do I’d be bored out of my mind staying at home alone.”

Yoongi seemed to be thinking about it for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll just make sure not to walk around in my underwear then I guess.”

“Yeah I’d appreciate that.”

“Or maybe I will, just to scar you.” He wore an uncharacteristically mischievous grin.

“Yoongi, I swear if you-“

He had walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

Well, the next few days might prove to be rather interesting.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope @misohime @netflix-batman-sleep @smallbaby-cat @leitholdwithlove @ramyagovindraj @leesalts @rjsmochii

Send me a message or ask if you want tagged! And also feel free to leave comments or send asks to just talk to me!

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impala1967dwinchester · 4 years

Text

Misha Collins: Let’s Cook!

*Not My GIF*

Pairing: MIsha Collins x Reader

Pov: Misha’s

Warnings: Cuteness, learning to cook, playful talk, light swearing.

Rating: Adult Mature

Summary:The reader asks if she can help with cooking. Misha decides that they would make breakfast, and things may get playful.

Word Count: 1,014

As Y/n and I laid in bed, she asked if she and I could make food the following morning. She never really asked us to make food together. She cleaned and that was what she was great at, I just so happened to be great at cooking. Our relationship always worked like that, you could say that one of us was crazy and the other one was the sane one.

Can you guess who is who? I had a book for cooking, and there was of course a shit ton more cooking books on the shelves around our house.

The next morning I woke up early and went out for ingredients for our breakfast. If Y/n wanted to make breakfast then I had to make sure that we had everything to make breakfast. It was around 830 in the morning when I finally left for the store.

I managed to write Y/n a letter before I left;

“Good Morning, baby. It’s almost 830, So I am going to the store to get fresh food for us to use when we cook later on. I know you’re probably not going to be up when I come back, so I will wake you up and we can make coffee. Then we can start with the food.

I love you baby”

When I got to the store I made a list on my phone and went into the store, it was actually more like a farmers market, and a health store that I entered, but that is regardless to the story I am about to tell you.

I ended up getting to a small fight slash argument with the cashier and someone in the meat department, so let's just say that I may or may not be welcome to that farmer's market store. I still got what I paid for and still walked out with everything that was in my cart.

As I made my way home I received a message from Y/n.

"Hey baby, I already made our coffee. I am waiting for you to get home. Oh and I also washed some dishes just the normal things I usually see you use when you make breakfast. Hopefully, you come home quickly because I can't wait to cook food!"

"I can't wait either!" I sent back in our texts.

I pulled into the driveway and honked my horn, Yn came out in a pair of shorts, a thin tank top making her nipples and breast visible to every person that walked past our house in the next couple of moments. I got out of my car and popped the trunk open, and down came Y/n to help me carry things into the house. Her breast moving with her body as she walked down the stairs, she picked up the light things which didn't bother me. As she walked back to the house she swayed her hips letting me watch in awe.

We had only been married for a few years, and we hadn't yet started to try for a child, but with her swaying her hips and wearing nothing, the urge to make her a mother was getting stronger and stronger. But today wasn't going to be that type of day... I think.

We finished bringing the food inside and I closed the trunk of my car. Y/n had pulled everything from the bags and set it onto our kitchen island, as I walked in she asked: " So hot stuff, what is making?" I smiled and responded, "Well this Hot stuff, is going to try to teach you how to make pancakes, sunny side up eggs, bacon, and grits!" I said with a smile on my face.

Y/n ohh and awed at the idea of all that food, normally I would just cook something simple like scrambled eggs, and English muffin or toast. Something that was really easy and quick, but since today was a weekend day and I really thought it was cute that she wanted to cook with me I wanted to do something big for her.

I had Y/n make the pancakes, as she followed the instructions of the side of the pancake box her tongue sticking out trying to concentrate. I made the eggs since I really didn't want to get sick from them not being cooked long enough for the right way. Y/n started humming a song and swayed her hips to the lyrics and music she was remembering. My eyes yet again landed on her ass and hips the way she was effortless gorgeous, in whatever she was doing.

Y/n had caught me watching her this time, "You should keep an eye on those eggs, honey." She was definitely being a smart ass, but it was rather cute coming from someone who wasn't normal in the kitchen, so she wasn't normally a distraction for me when I was in the kitchen. Then of course I made the grits since I really didn't want Y/n to have to deal with the grits and the mess that comes along with that. so she made the bacon which was fast.

The entire time we were making breakfast, we were staring at each other. The playfulness and tense of the morning come down onto us as we sat in the dining room. "Thank you for letting me help with breakfast this morning." Y/n said shoving food into her mouth. "Of course, baby. Whatever you wanna do together I love it." I said smiling then took a sip of my 3rd cup of coffee.

You could say that the rest of this day was going to be wonderful, but you'll never really know. Y/n and I ate breakfast and somehow ended up in not the dining room, I guess I feel for her when she smiles, when she's goofy, when all I can think about is Y/n that for me is better then falling in love with her. It's truly being with her that's made my life amazing. Just as much as I'm in love with her she is in love with my cooking.

#misha x reader #misha collins #cooking #playfulness #light swearing

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ceciliavonwrites · 3 years

Text

The Advent of Clown Mom

Everything was burning around him. Shadow's chest heaved with the effort it took to breathe through the smoke stinging his eyes.

Shadow gripped his bleeding arm, limping forwards. He looked around for a way through the burning wreckage. No idea where Ivy was. Or if all the attackers were taken care of. He'd taken several out, but he was not bullet-proof.

The room was getting hotter and hotter. All around him were flames...and, to his right, one of the hot glass walls, the cool night sky visible outside.

He dropped down to spin, his hurt leg slowing him down a little. Getting out will hurt, but staying is a death sentence. He launched himself at the glass.

His spindash hit and ground away at the glass wall, the friction burning him. His skin got hotter and hotter but he refused to stop. It was him or the wall.

The wall broke first.

Shadow shot outside in a shower of glass shards. He bounced across the ground outside, unspinning and rag-dolling through the air. He came to a stop, and allowed himself to stay there on the concrete, gulping in fresh, clean, beautiful smoke-free air.

"Ha..." He made it! He had won. Hurt, yes, alone, yes, but not dead.

A ringing shout. Oh no. That was not Ivy. Shadow hurried to get up. The silhouette of something small and round was thrown into the flames.

The explosion threw white hot shrapnel in all directions. Something came his way, Shadow's head exploded in pain, and everything went black.

Shadow woke up. Slowly, sense returned to his body and his mind.

He was somewhere unfamiliar. He lay inside on a carpet floor, his immediate surroundings cluttered and dimly lit. Behind him was a wall. For some vague reason, he liked that something solid was behind him.

He was so tired. His body ached with exhaustion.

Shadow tried to move anyways and immediately winced in pain; moving made an invisible hammer bang on his skull.

He tried to think. What should he do now? He was indoors. Sheltered. But he didn't bring himself here. He might not be safe. As much as his body wanted him to, then, he shouldn't go back to sleep.

"Oh, hey!" A woman's voice. "You're awake!"

Shadow looked up, startled; somehow he hadn't heard her coming.

The first thing that jumped at him was that the skin of this human leaning over him was pure white. She wore black with red on one side, and red with black on the other. Her eyes had blue and red around them, matching the tips of her blond hair.

She got down on her knees in front of him, grinning from ear to ear. "HI~!"

Shadow winced and lay his ears back. Too loud.

"I'm Harley Quinn! I found ya near where Ivy's greenhouse useta be!" Her voice was unerringly cheerful. "After the firefighters hosed everything off, I mean. I'm glad she got away from whatever maniacs did that. Even if she lost a buncha her plants...she loves 'em a lot. But when I texted she said she's unhurt and gonna get some tasty payback, so that's good!"

Shadow stared at her blankly. The woman's announced name went in one ear and out the other, displaced by all the other strange information. Tasty what? And he was...next to a green house? What did that matter? Who was Ivy?

"Do you know Ivy?" She asked. "Actually, better question, what happened to ya? How’d you get all torn up and burnt, lil guy?"

She doesn't know? She doesn't know. This loud woman just found him somewhere and doesn't know anything useful. Great.

Shadow didn't reply, lowering his gaze. How is he going to find someone who knows what happened to him? He needs to, as soon as he can. Somehow he feels like he's forgotten something important.

"Hm..." She cocked her head. "Not too talkative, are ya? Oh," she said in a quieter, thoughtful voice, "if you're an alien, then maybe you don't know English. Or you can't speak at all." She cheered up again. "That's okay! I know people like that. At least, I'm pretty sure I do. At least one."

Shadow made an irritated noise through his nose. Okay, wherever he was and whoever this loud woman was, he wasn't cooperating any further. She's not saying anything useful and her way-too-loud voice slammed on his skull.

"Awwww, what a cute little noise! Are you mad?" She cooed at him like he were an unruly kitten. "You're in pain, so you're mad? I know, widdle guy. I'm sowwy."

Absolutely not putting up with this. Shadow tried to push himself up.

His head screamed at him and spots filled his eyesight. "Ack...!" He struggled to stay up on his hands and knees. His trembling limbs refused to move any further.

"Hey! No no no, down!" The loud woman pushed him down with a strength she didn't look like she had. He was forced to lie down onto his side. "Lay still, lil guy. You're hurt pretty bad, ya know!"

It was then that he noticed his limbs were clumsily bandaged up. When he breathed, it pushed out against another binding around his torso. They were stained heavily with his own green blood. His injuries ached, but not too much more then the rest of his body.

Why? How was he injured? He tried to remember, and...couldn't. There was nothing in his mind where he reached.

"Awww, even though you're mad you're so cute!" The loud woman reached for him and patted his head.

She may as well have hit him with a hammer. Shadow recoiled with a cry of pain, smacking her hand away and clutching his bandaged head. The woman said something, but the thudding in his ears drowned her out.

He curled up, breathing harshly, trying to force the pain away. The pounding of his head was agonizing. He bit down, waiting for it to stop.

Something cold came to rest on his head. It felt like ice, but didn't melt. It slowed the pounding a little.

Shadow opened one eye, uncurling enough to see. The headache was still there, but no longer screaming at him. "Mm?"

The loud woman was smiling hopefully. "Sorry 'bout that. S'at better?"

Was it? The cold was...uncomfortable. It was starting to numb his skin. But right now numb was preferable.

He shifted the arm that was under him, and reached to adjust the cold thing on top of his head. It helped. Just a little. "Hm."

"Oh yay!" The loud woman cheered. "I mean--" She clapped her hands over her mouth, and repeated it again but in a whisper this time. "Oh yay."

Did she finally figure out, with how much pain his head was in, that shouting might be a bad idea? "Hmph."

"Don't worry, lil alien," the woman chirped, trying and sorta failing to stay quiet. "You just stay here so you can rest and get all better. Auntie Harley's gonna take real good care of you!"

No way. As soon as he's able to stand, he's getting the hell out of here and away from her. All he has to do is bide his time.

#batman villain moms au #canon #shadow #Harley Quinn #you know that sneezy noise hedgehogs make when they're mad? yeah

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hedwigstalons · 4 years

Text

High Expectations

This is a fic that I originally told myself I wouldn’t post any of until it was complete. Evidently I lied. It’s not complete but I do have 21k words and eight chapters built up already. It was meant to be Gordon’s story of how he ended up in WASP but the other brothers have decided to put in an appearance too (I blame the boys and also @willow-salix for encouraging them)

I’ve also set myself a secondary challenge with this to produce a piece of art for each chapter. I’m hoping to try out different styles and hopefully make some progress over time. This first bit was very much about getting a feel for the tools (a challenge seeing as I first have to wrestle the drawing pad away from the small person who just likes being able to make rainbow glitter pictures)

Anyway....

xoxoxox

Summary: Jeff Tracy has very strong beliefs about what he expects from his sons. Sometimes his expectations are at odds with what his sons themselves want from life, especially Gordon.

Chapter One

The office was tiny, barely large enough for the single desk it contained. It didn’t really matter. This room no longer had a permanent resident. State wide cuts to the careers service and an investment in online guidance meant that careers advisors were stretched across districts; a few lonely individuals doing the rounds of the high schools to dispense reassurance and wisdom in statutory ten minute blocks. As a consequence this area of the school hadn’t been refurbished in many years and had a general air of neglect. The carpet tiles had been worn bald in a clear path to the two chairs in the room, one in front of the desk and one behind. The painted cinderblock walls were covered in posters, bleached and faded by the California sun, bearing inspirational quotes.

You can do anything!

Be the change you want to see

Aim for the skies

The posters mirrored the sentiments he had heard at home too many times. Although at home they tended to come tinged with disappointment as he handed over yet another report card that didn’t meet the standard set by the siblings who had gone before. Yale, Harvard and the Denver School of Advanced Technology had already accepted a Tracy. Gordon just couldn’t match up to their lofty heights of academic success. He was bright but that just got overshadowed by the glittering trio above him. Anything he did had always been done better by at least one, but more often all, of his older brothers.

The pressure to achieve academic excellence had lessened slightly as his swimming training had ramped up in intensity. As competitions progressed from local, to state, to national, to international the family had grown to accept that this was no passing hobby. But Gordon still lived with the constant threat that he would be pulled out the pool if his grades dropped too low. It was taking all his energy to keep on top of his school work to the required B- average insisted on by his father so that he could keep doing the one thing he felt truly good at. The one thing that set him apart from his over-achieving brothers.

At least the teachers didn’t judge him or at least couldn’t judge him against his more intellectual siblings. As soon as John had graduated high school and started at Harvard, an accomplishment for which he was several years younger than the average after skipping a couple of grades, Jeff had moved himself and the youngest boys away from rural Kansas to Los Angeles. The old farmhouse was retained but was no longer a permanent base for the family.

The move to the city was a strategic decision by Jeff and one that was only delayed in order to allow John to complete his high school education without the disruption of an inter-state move. For Jeff it meant the ability to site himself in the commercial heartlands expected of the business that was flourishing under his direction. It also meant he was able to get back each night to care for his youngest children, even if he sometimes didn’t make it back to the apartment before midnight.

It may have been expected that Jeff Tracy, an individual rapidly climbing the lists of America’s richest and most influential individuals, would have used the move as an opportunity to enrol his youngest sons in the finest educational establishment Los Angeles had to offer. But Jeff Tracy was a man raised in Kansas wheat fields. A man for whom his own success and the successes of his eldest three sons had been built on the foundations of learning delivered in small town rural schools. What was good enough for him was good enough for all his children. There were no private tutors or exclusive schools. Gordon and Alan found themselves enrolled in the regular district school with its air of neglect and underfunding.

A large part of Gordon really wanted to be back in his math class. Not because he had any great fondness for the subject but because he found it hard in a way the others didn’t. He was not above digging out Virgil’s old annotated English texts or Scott’s history files if he wanted a bit of extra insight for his essays but math was different. Any notes left by his siblings were generally an incomprehensible scrawl. Not that any of them had made many math notes; they all seemed to just get it.

Gordon still remembered the first time after John had headed off to Harvard that he had called for help with his homework. John had tried to be patient but there had been an unmistakeable tone of annoyance accompanied by a condescending eye roll clearly visible on the call screen. Gordon had been left in no doubt that John found the idea of a Tracy struggling with algebra to be frankly insulting. Virgil had displayed rather more patience and understanding but the pity that came with the help was too much for Gordon to take. He didn’t want to find out what Scott’s reaction would be. The golden haloed first-born was becoming increasingly distant and superior as his career in the Air Force progressed.

And so Gordon ploughed on alone. Taking study guides to swim competitions to read between the heats. Trying to juggle the conflicting demands of Team USA and Team Tracy. The former striving for physical excellence and peak performance, the latter demanding excellence across the board.

The careers advisor on the far side of the desk looked up at the young man sat opposite her. The school records showed he was academically above average. He had prospects.

The students that entered her office tended to fall into three broad categories. There were the ones that didn’t really need their regulation advice session having already got their chosen career path mapped out, whether that involved furthering their education or just jumping straight into the local jobs market. There were those that were bewildered and clueless about where to turn next. Then there were those that just didn’t seem to care and who drifted through her office much like they drifted through the rest of their school career. She wondered which she would encounter in this interview.

“So Gordon” she smiled at the teenager, “have you considered what you want to do after you graduate high school?”

The teen looked at her with a slightly surprised expression.

“Swim, ma’am”

It was said bluntly and without preamble, accompanied by a mid-western politeness that the move to the city hadn’t shaken off. Stated as fact rather than as some hypothetical idea. She had encountered plenty of teenagers with dreams of making it big on the sporting circuit but very few made it professional. Usually the dreams were of football or basketball; swimming was a new one to add to her list.

“Swim?”

“Yes ma’am, swim. I’ve already got my qualifying time sorted. Come the summer I’ll be at the Olympics.”

Cogs clicked into place. This was her nineteenth interview of the day and the students were beginning to blur together, even with the supplementary notes put together by the tutors that actually got to see these kids each day. The low attendance scores suddenly made sense. Gordon Tracy, the rising star of the swimming circuit.

“Of course.” She flustered slightly over her notes. It was a new experience to have a member of the Olympic squad sat before her. But she was obliged to be a sounding board for his career choice for the next ten minutes. She couldn’t just send him back to class off the back of a one word answer. She decided to stick to familiar territory; if they know the plan, find out the backup plan.

“Have you considered what you will do after swimming? You have good grades here. I’d recommend making a college application.”

The youngster gave a hollow sort of chuckle. “Not good enough for anywhere that matters. I think I’ll stick to what I’m good at, ma’am.”

The interview was brought to a close by the final bell of the day and Gordon was glad to be able to scoop up his rucksack and escape the claustrophobic confines of the office. He was sure the careers advisor meant well but he felt that the session was a pretty pointless experience. Actually being in class would have been a better use of his time.

As he reached the front of the school he spied Alan waiting for him in their usual spot. The younger boy was scuffing his shoes in the dirt while waiting, the bored expression of his face breaking into smile when he saw his older brother. They set off on the short walk back the apartment.

“Good day, Al?”

“Yeah, ok”

“Much homework?”

Alan grimaced. He was about as fond of homework as Gordon was.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Well make sure you get on with it as soon as we get in. No video games until it’s finished.”

“Yes Sir!” The response was accompanied by a mocking salute which earned Alan a gentle whack on the back of the head.

“Hey, less of that. I’m not Scott. But seriously Al, just make sure you get it done. I’ve got an extra training session tonight but only a short one; you’ll have the place to yourself until about 6. I’ll sort us some dinner once I’m home.”

“Will you be able to play video games with me once you’re back.”

“Sorry, I’ll have my own work to get on with.”

Alan’s shoulders slumped dejectedly and his feet dragged along the sidewalk.

“Another quiet night then.”

Gordon hated seeing Alan so flat. The pair spent a significant amount of time together and, like all his brothers, he had a desire to protect the youngest. He wrapped an arm around the shoulders of the shorter boy and was rewarded with a shove in the ribs. Evidently anything even slightly resembling a hug in public was out this close to the school grounds.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

They had reached the apartment by this point. Gordon dashed inside to grab his swimming kit and left Alan with strict instructions to make sure he got all his homework done. He didn’t like leaving Alan home alone but it was a regular occurrence now. Their father wouldn’t be home for hours and with all the others moved away the youngest two had got used to fending for themselves. He left Alan with a promise that they would spend some time together later.

The training session passed in a blur of drills. There were now more days with both morning and evening training in preparation for the Olympics and the extra workouts were taking their toll. By the time Gordon reached the apartment his shoulders ached and all he wanted to do was stand under a scalding hot shower before collapsing in to bed. Unfortunately he knew he had other responsibilities to attend to first.

Gordon rolled his shoulders, plastered on a smile and scanned the entry system for the apartment.

xoxoxox

Normally weekday meals were Gordon’s domain or he was at least there to help out if Alan ventured into the kitchen. But he had completed his homework quicker than expected and in the boredom of the empty apartment it had seemed like a good idea to start dinner.

He took the pack of greens from the fridge, prodded the pan of pasta and gave the chicken a quick stir. As he sliced the greens an acrid smell assaulted his nostrils. The chicken, which had been cooking nicely until now seemed to have chosen the moment he took his eye off the ball to catch and stick to the bottom of the pan. Carefully prepared strips of prime breast disintegrated and crumbled as he tried to scrape the dried out offerings from the base of the pan. He cursed, turned out the stove, and went back to preparing the greens.

The clock ticked closer to 6pm. Steam rose in billows from the pan of greens which had reached a rapid boil. Perhaps he should have waited until Gordon was actually home before cooking the vegetables, the shredded leaves were starting to disintegrate.

At least the pasta should be ok.

The pasta which wasn’t boiling.

More cursing filled the air as Alan realised his error. In his attempt to salvage the chicken he had turned off the heat under the pasta as well. Perhaps he should have just let Gordon cook the whole thing. This was a mistake. All he wanted to do was free up some time in the hope of getting a game in with Gordon and instead he had ruined everything. He wondered if it was too late to dig out the emergency credit card and call for take out. He would just have to make sure Dad took it out of his allowance rather than Gordon’s.

The sound of the front door broke through his thoughts.

“Hi Alan.” The voice echoed up the hallway. Footsteps approached, only pausing briefly as a kit bag was launched into a room, landing in a corner with a heavy thud. Too late to salvage anything now, within moments Gordon was in the doorway. “Hey, you cooked. Thanks”

“No need to sound so surprised. Don’t thank me til you’ve tried it though. It’s, um, not really gone to plan.”

“I’m sure it’s fine. Want me to drain these pans while you get the plates out?”

Alan signalled his agreement by delving into the crockery cupboard leaving Gordon to drain and stir together the contents of the various pans. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to the meal but Gordon seemed grateful to be spared the chore.

Dinner was everything Alan expected it to be. They sat opposite sides of the kitchen counter, Gordon shovelling down vast quantities of noodles while he picked at his own much smaller portion. The meat was as dry as cardboard and stuck in his throat alongside the shards of undercooked pasta. Perhaps he ought to pay more attention in the kitchen, especially as Gordon was likely to be training more and more over the coming months.

Gordon’s fork clattered onto the empty plate before Alan was even half way through. He looked up to see eyes the colour of mahogany under the harsh kitchen lights looking at him with concern.

“You ok? You’ve hardly eaten.”

“I’m fine. Just wishing I’d ordered us a pizza instead.” He waved a forkful of charred chicken to emphasise his point.

This earned him a small chuckle and at least dispelled the worry.

“Hey, no complaints from me over it. I think my coach would have something so say about that too, we’ll save the pizza for the summer. I’ll start clearing up while you finish off. You still want that game?”

Alan grinned. Suddenly the pasta was a lot easier to stomach if there was a chance to thrash his brother in the goblin realms at the end of it.

xoxoxox

As the clock ticked past midnight and into the small hours of the morning Gordon lay in the darkness, sleep refusing to come. His normally comfortable bed felt too lumpy and he turned this way and that. First facing the blank wall next to the bed, then the ceiling and finally the open room. A shelf of trophies glinted faintly in the light that managed to spill around the edges of the heavy blackout curtains. Back in Kansas Gordon had rarely bothered closing his curtains; he had always been an early riser and was usually up long before the dawn in order to get to early morning training or fit in a gym session before school. But the pervading yellow glow of the city from the ever present light pollution wasn’t like the peaceful moon. On nights like this the city felt oppressive and he yearned for the open fields of home, as he still though of Kansas. Gordon might now be able to access better training facilities and coaches which had enhanced his Olympic prospects but he had never embraced city life.

He was exhausted. The training session after school had been intense and he had thrown himself into the drills with maximum effort. The gaming session had probably been a mistake but he hadn’t wanted to let Alan down. The kid had gone to the trouble of trying to make dinner and save him a job. Ok, the noodles had been still firm to the point of being slightly crunchy and the greens had been on the verge of turning to soup but it’s the thought that counts. It was calories. It was from his prescribed meal plan. It was mostly edible. He appreciated the level of consideration shown by a teenager who shouldn’t have any more pressing concerns than getting his chemistry paper completed and working out whether Ellen from World Studies class had a crush on him.

His own homework had been its usual slog. He wrote until his eyes became sticky and the notes he was reading became a jumbled blur. Sleep should have enveloped him within minutes of climbing into bed but instead the words from his earlier interview kept churning around his head. The thoughts drowning out even the gnawing ache in his overworked muscles.

What about after?

He had always managed to stave these thoughts off before. Whenever his father had made comments about future plans he has always managed to deflect the conversations. He didn’t have room in his head for anything other than visualising the dream. Why on earth should the words of a complete stranger, parroted from some state approved script, make life any different.

He was a Tracy. A name synonymous success and achievement. He had found his calling in a way that set him apart from the others.

He was going to swim.

He was going to represent his country.

He was going to win.

He ran through the visualisation that had been a constant companion in his head for years. He could feel the flow of the water over his body as his muscles flexed in perfect synchronicity. He could hear the roar of the crowd as the results flashed up on the scoreboard. He rode the wave of emotion as the medal was presented. This was the moment that would mark him out as more than just the fourth son of an astronaut. Gordon Cooper Tracy. A name in his own right.

With the sound of the national anthem still ringing in his ears Gordon tried to visualise the next steps. He tried to force the dream beyond its current conclusion but instead found only darkness.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #high expectations #Gordon Tracy #my art

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laurelgavaris · 4 years

Text

set: july 4th-5th (buck moon) location: sol dance studio and green ridge park what: it was suppose to be a night indoors at the dance studio for the gavaris coven and leon; however one of the coven members never showed up, which caused the head priestess to worry and ask for help from those she trusted and had by her side to find rosa, and they did, unfortunately, they did. | @choileon & @miles-easton

tw: death, injuries

Laurel Gavaris

Another full moon, one that she did feel like herself instead of having her magic against her.Laurel had invited her coven members and Leon to gather at the dance studio, so they'd be around for spells and to protect each other in case anything wrong happened with the wolves during the full moon. She was setting the table with candles and food, leaving the room's center empty so they'd be able to form a circle and engage in their errands when people slowly started to appear. She smiled and greeted all of them, moving closer to a particular one. Looking at Miles, she smiled. "Well, and here we are again. It's really nice to have you all here, there's just Leon and Rosa missing and we can start."

Miles Easton

He paced. He looked out the window occasionally as the clouds parted and moon became visible. Miles didn’t have any concerns. Not many, although something he couldn’t identify kept nagging at him. The witch shrugged it off to being told they would stay inside on this evening. Back home the coven met in outdoors, elements be damned. Then again, at home there were stricter territories for werewolves, leaving a town for witches and humans to wrestle over.

Laurel approached and the severe look on his face softened. “Leon?” He repeated. Leon had some fair points and opinions to make at Litha about covens. Miles couldn’t blame Leon. Nor did he care what others wanted, needed, or felt obliged to pursue. “You sure? Oh-- I brought an old grimoire along. There is a protection spell I wanted to show you in it.” A bookmarked thought. An offer he wouldn’t be able to make anywhere else.

Leon Choi

Leon sighed. Despite his problems involving covens in the past, they still held a heavy influence on him, that resonated to these days. On the other hand, Leon knew that his priorities had changed this time around and he was making an effort to trust Laurel with this. If she ended up disppointing him in the end, oh well, it would just be another one to add to the list. Nothing he couldn't handle. But full moons meant headaches and blacking out and, taking last month's moon in consideration, great discharges of energy that could potentially hurt someone, so, might as well side with someone that could fully hold him back. So when Laurel invited him, he said yes. Reluctantly, but still.

He tried to be on time, but the rain made traffic worse, not to mention, some roads were closed, so his Uber had to make a few detours here and there. Finally, he arrived, dark hues searching her among the people from her coven and when Leon spotted her, he made his way to Laurel. "Hi..." He waved one hand, before shoving it back into his jacket's pockets, his gaze moving to acknowledge Miles too. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be late. Apparently some streets are blocked. I think maybe because of the rain? Hey Miles, how is it going?" He didn't know the man was part of Laurel's coven, but at least it was someone else there that he knew. "Hope I'm not too late?"

Laurel Gavaris

At the mere question of why she'd invite Leon for their coven meeting and, what seemed to be a concerned tone at his question, Laurel raised an eyebrow. Why wouldn't she be sure about it? "Why— Yes, I'm sure. Is there something I should know?" Because so far, through conversations with Leon and the time they spent together, he seemed honest, and bluntly transparent with her. But could she be wrong? "Anyway, that's great. Thank you for bring the grimoire and sharing it with us, I knew there was a reason why I thought you were a great addition to the coven," she replied, a genuine smile resting on her lips as she touched his shoulder gently.

And then, she turned, her hand sliding down close to her torso while her attention was now Leon's. "Not at all! That's not a problem." She tried to reassure him so he wouldn't feel bad about being late. "We still need to wait for Rosa before we begin, but we can start prepping everything. I'll try to contact her again. If you have her phone, could you try texting her too?" She questioned Miles. Laurel didn't want to sound worried, but no sign of a member of her coven during a moment is Astoria where everyone was missing was... worrying. "And, hey, all of this is alright to you, right?" She questioned Leon, knowing how he felt about covens.

Miles Easton

“I meant… are you sure we can’t wait for them.” Because one of them was running up to the door. Maybe Laurel was more on edge than usual too. “I’m also very good to have around, yes.” His smile grew wide and broad. Assuring.

Everything would be fine.

He passed a ‘hello’ and a wave on to Leon. “It’s going well, I’m glad you made it.” The weather did seem tricky out there. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to set up a few things, it won’t take but a moment.” He held his phone up for Laurel to see, to know he would text Rosa. Which he did, as soon as he turned and walked to the circle outlined in place for the coven members.

Everything would be fine.

If Miles knew anything about Laurel it was that she would relax and be in her element walking Leon through the paces, or showing him the hospitality of the coven was in full force. Or… whatever she was doing. Miles liked to have things to do. Needed to stay busy. And there was a slow cyclone of activity beginning to spin inside the dance studio.

Leon Choi

"Is everything alright?" Leon's gaze went from Laurel, to Miles leaving them, then back to the woman. His paranoia kept telling him to run and not look back... not that Laurel had ever given him a reason to doubt her, but he was starting to feel anxious with eyes on him (which, would have been perfectly reasonable to have, since he was a newcomer, but still) and having Miles leave like that to set up a few things didn't help either. It was nothing personal. Not against the other man or Laurel, it was mostly Leon fighting his inner demons.

He didn't realize he had followed Miles with his gaze and ended up looking around the room, to people chatting (some in spanish, others in English), until Laurel asked him that and he had his attention drawn back to her. "Ah... yeah. Yeah, it's fine." The second part of his phrase sounding more reassuring than the first. "I'll probably just look, if that's okay. I'm not sure if my energy will help this time... No discharges of energy as of yet, so that's a good thing, right? Is Miles the Head Priest with you?"

Laurel Gavaris

At the sight of Miles walking away, Laurel kept a soothing smile on her lips; something that was more directed at her own self. Trying to keep herself centered and knowing that someone being late, didn't mean that they had disappeared and she should be worried. But what if? Oh my god, what if? And before she'd go through a whirlwind of thoughts, Leon brought her back to reality. "Yes, it is. It's just Astoria... last full moon wasn't the safest one so I worry. It's usual."

And it was, inside that room there were people she cared enough to help run away from a country and those who wanted to belong in a coven, to be part of a family. They were her family. Grabbing her phone while she was focused on everything on her surroundings she tried Rosa once, twice, three times and nothing. A sigh. Again, Leon made her got away from her own mind, walking around the room hoping he was following her. "We'll probably just go through a protection spell, practice a little bit and be in connect to Mother Nature as much as we can while inside this studio. And, no, no," she chuckled. "He's one of newest members in the coven. It's just me as a head priestess for this coven, and so far, I hope it's been enough."

And she just wanted to go through that, to show her members that they were safe, but there was this gut feeling that something was off and she couldn't just ignore it. "Am I being paranoid? She's probably okay, right?"

Miles Easton

As the final preparations were attended to, Miles kept his phone out on a table in sight. The longer he waited to hear the familiar buzz and ping of a text, the deeper the furrow on his brow became.

Rosa’s singular defining feature was early arrivals. So early in fact that it annoyed Miles and he had tried to beat her a few times to a meeting. But no, there she would be sitting, waiting, and well ahead of the game. He wanted to give Laurel and Leon space to talk, but as he soon found himself running out of the ‘what ifs’ of why the excessively (and annoyingly) punctual coven member hadn’t shown up.

“I’m sorry, but ah.” He approached Leon and Laurel again, shooting a quick glance out the studio windows before looking at the two. “Rosa has not responded to my texts. Seems it a bit weird, yeah? Should I make a run by her house and check in?”

Leon Choi

There wasn't much to be said, and Lean noticed always being quieter when around Laurel. Part of him didn't have much to add, and the other part worried about saying the wrong thing around her and have yet another person ganging up on him and calling him childish. He got it. He understood his actions weren't the best and he was trying to change his ways. The mention of last month's full moon caused Leon to scoff, knowing fully well how dangerous it had been. "At least the rain doesn't seem as bad as last month's." Which meant that hopefully, his body's reactions to it would be different too.

He bobbed his head as she explained Miles' situation and it made sense that a new member would try and be helpful. Leon would've done the same if he knew beforehand how things worked at Laurel's coven. He watched the interaction between the two, only voicing his thoughts when he felt worry in their voices. A coven member running late was that much worrisome? "It's probably the traffic. If she's not wearing a cloaking spell, which, I don't see why she should be, why don't you guys try a tracking spell? Like I said, people are taking detours because the streets are blocked and maybe that's her case."

Laurel Gavaris

Laurel had to be the most centered person in the situation, she couldn't allow hypothetical scenarios to cause her distress and eventually propagate her worries on everyone surrounding her. Taking a deep breath, her eyes searched for Miles firstly: "The protection spell. How does it work? Would it keep everyone already here in the room protected? Because in case we're right, and Rosa is in trouble... I can't worry about anyone else but her. I need some certainty that they'll be alright, you... all will be alright."

A sigh, her fingers brushing against her hair. In her voice she could show certainty but her worriness was clear through her body language. "And we can do the tracking spell, yes. We can find where she is and in case it's nowhere near the studio. I'll find her. I'll go after her." It didn't matter if it was raining, if the world was ending out there. Rosa was one of the few that trusted Laurel ever since the beginning and she'd do anything to keep her promise to protect Rosa. Anything. Even if so far the disappearances only happened to werewolves and shapeshifters, she didn't want someone from her coven to be the first one to be part of the list. "There's a crystal on top of the table at the back of this room, or I have a mirror at my office. Either way, we can go for a scrying spell."

Miles Easton

All at once there was a lot to do. “The tracking spell is an excellent idea, Leon.” His attention turned to Laurel. “And the protection spell is easy enough. Everyone else is here, all they have to do is gather in a circle. I can show you how to lead it. The spell takes only a few minutes and will provide protection for everyone who participates, at least for tonight. It’s a short lived spell, but very powerful.” Rosa’s absence opened a space for Leon to join as well, if he chose. “We should take care of that first, yeah? Making sure everyone will be safe for the night. Then consult your mirror.” The urgency to find Rosa was understandable, however there wouldn��t be much meaning in it if the rest of the coven was left vulnerable.

A question for Leon. “Would you be able to perform the tracking spell?” The coven was stocked with more than Miles knew about, so certainly anything Leon needed would be at his disposable.

Leon Choi

There was a reason why Leon thought Miles was a Head Priest alongside Laurel. The way the other man moved around, giving his input and sometimes taking the lead wasn’t something Leon recalled happening at his former coven. Things were much more hierarchical there, leaving almost no room for others to offer anything. Much less to take the lead at times, hence why he was always turning to Laurel out of pure instinct.

Chances were, Leon was going to say he’d be going home for the night. With the rain being regular showers rather than a nasty storm, his headache was bearable. It sort of felt like he was invading their privacy somehow and he was ready to tell them he was going home, but then Miles asked about the tracking spell and he fell quiet for a second or two. “Ah—“ Leon rubbed the back of his neck, feelings his ears warming up with the pressure of having those set of eyes on him. “I haven’t done one in a long time, but... I can try.” His words didn’t feel like a question, which surprised Leon in a way. He realized that he wasn’t afraid of using whatever it was growing inside him if it meant helping someone. “I’ll have to read the spell though. Rusty is an understatement...” He shot an apologetic glance at Laurel, not wishing to put more weight in her shoulders in case the tracking spell didn’t work.

Laurel Gavaris

It took her just a couple of seconds once she left the room to grab her mirror and head back to the room. And that was when Miles' voice reached her attention, nodding in agreement. It seemed a lot like the spell her father once taugh his coven when she was still in Guadalajara, so she'd know that this would be safe, it gave her security enough that she wouldn't worry about anyone else. "Okay, we can do this. I can do it." She'd prioritize everything in the right order, first she'd take care of the members who were there and after that, she'd look for Rosa.

Now, her light hues searching for Leon's, she reached for his hand just to grab his attention before grabbing her phone, searching for a picture, any picture and showing her phone's screen to Leon. "This is Rosa, so you can know who you're looking for. Her name's Rosa Diaz, and I can do this with you, okay? If you want to, we can do it together, to search for her while going through the tracking spell. I just need to do the protection spell first." Moving closer to the center of the room, she didn't need to share words for the attention of everyone else to get to her. "Due to what happened in the previous full moon and for everyone's safety, which is something I've been aiming for since Litha... besides our amulets, we'll go through a protection spell. We don't know what's happening out there and all of us deserve to be safe." And that was when she finally searched for Miles, so they could start the spell, all together.

Miles Easton

Leon sounded on board with the tracking spell. Laurel had a fire lit under her. Reassurance wasn’t a skill Miles possessed. Sentiments felt cheap and empty. “We can do this,” he reiterated, more to solidify the several steps of the plan they had all created to locate Rosa.

After a few moments gathering everyone in a perfect circle, Miles slipped the grimoire into the head priestess’ hands. A hum and buzz steadily began to color the circle. The energy of the coven and magic of old words from a spell book ignited a ring of fire around the group that quickly disappeared without a trace once protection had been cast over everyone within.

The tension in the room did not dissipate as fast. Miles could really use a drink. Obviously it wasn’t the time.

And he tended to barrel through such situations with action with a personality too dominant to take a back seat. The situation with Rosa kickstarted a buried desire to be helpful rather than the usual self-serving Miles.

So he would assist, or not, in whatever way was needed. “Nice work.” He commended Laurel with a smile and an inconspicuous brush of his fingers over hers as he took the book of spells back. A light acknowledgement, a little admiration considering the spontaneous decisions being made. Leon was nearby and Miles called out. “Ready?”

Leon Choi

Truth be told, Leon was feeling a little overwhelmed right now. All of these people, all of the unwanted responsibility placed on his shoulders, someone missing (which made him pick up his phone and check in on MJ), and then Laurel grabbed his hand, which was enough to focus his attention on one spot. Rosa. The brunette with thick, wavy hair that was smiling right next to Laurel in the picture she was showing him. Silently, Leon took the phone from the brunette’s hand and pinched the screen to zoom into the woman’s face, committing those features to memory before handing the phone back to Laurel, but gently grabbing her wrist before she walked away. “Hey. We’re here for you, okay? We’ll find her. I promise.”

He knew better than to make promises like that, but Laurel had been kind enough to take him in and help him while expecting nothing in return, not even that he would join her coven, so, in so many ways, Leon wanted to pay her back... even if it involved making promises he didn’t know if he could keep. He followed Miles and Laurel, stepping in to help form a perfect circle and channel his energy into this spell, to help power it up, knowing it was the only thing he could do.

When Miles turned his attention towards Leon, he nodded, moving to another part of the room so he could focus on the tracking spell. This should have been easy... tracking spells were taught to beginners, he knew that much. He opted for the crystal, since he knew his abstract magic side hadn’t been all that much trained, even back in his old coven. He would leave the scrying mirror to Laurel if she chose to.

Leon sat down on his heels, a map of Astoria placed in front of him and a crystal hanging by a delicate chain on his hands. He closed his eyes, trying to get a clear picture of Rosa in his head while chanting some things in old celtic. He focused his energy on the crystal, guiding his hand over the map. Leon didn’t know how much time it had passed or for how long he had been sitting there with the crystal circling a certain spot of the map, but he couldn’t get more specific than that. “I—sorry...” He looked up, finding Laurel and Miles’s gaze. “This—“ his finger circled an area of the map. “Was the closest I could get to where she is. Does she live around here?”

Laurel Gavaris

The energy emerging from the room made her almost get chills while their powers became one during the protection spell; there wasn't much she could do at this point for each person in that room, but she would do what she could. When Laurel finally opened her eyes, she kept her gaze for brief seconds at everyone in that room, they had been people she fought for back when it all started and nothing had changed now. Closing the grimoire, she handed it back to Miles; a minor grin appeared on her lips as a mere touch of his hand brushing against hers was felt, she murmured a thank you and then, reached closer to one of her best friends to ask her to be in charge while they would be away. Because Laurel knew that there was a high chance this wasn't heading to the best case scenario.

And then, her concerns were confirmed. "She doesn't live close to Green Ridge Park, at all." A sigh. "I'm gonna go after her. I just need to know she's safe or else I won't feel tranquil. I'll take the mirror with me and I can try to do a spell on the way there. And I need your help, it would be completely naive of myself to go out there alone." And then she stopped for a second, it was one thing to ask that for Miles. He was part of the coven, but with Leon, there was a difference at making him take the risk of being out there, during a rainy full moon night. "I don't know what's happening with the wolves and I'll understand if you don't want to go, but if you'd like to help, I'll be grateful. But this is not your cause, so know that I won't be mad or disappointed if you decide to stay."

Leaving the scenario for a moment, a few words were shattered with her coven members but nothing about a missing member, at least not until she had more information. Laurel grabbed her purse and her car keys, the latter being handed at Miles. "Can you drive?" She questioned him. "We're good minutes away from the Park, so if there's no one in front of us at the streets, make sure to go as fast you can."

Miles Easton

Leon began to concentrate on tracking the missing coven member. A hush fell over the room, the type of silence fraught with apprehension. Fear and worry. A huge amount of pressure hanging over Leon, swaying back and forth like the crystal held over the map.

There was a break through but not an optimistic one. In a park, in the storm, under a full moon. In a town filled with unpredictable werewolves. The danger was clear. So was Laurel’s determination to find Rosa. A decision he would’ve argued against if he were in his old coven.

‘Can you drive?’ The answer varied by context. Miles didn’t have time to explain why he did not have a license to drive. They would all find out soon enough. He took the keys, nodded, and had a quick look at the map Leon held on to.

The jeep whipped around another corner, tires squealing, a plume of smoke left behind them. Miles narrowly missed sideswiping a parked car. His instruction was to drive fast, and so he did. He glanced at Leon. “The park is coming up on the right.” A few more blocks, but wait. “Leon, could you try the tracking spell again?” There were a few ways around and into the park, and Miles wanted to get them as close as possible. "Where should we stop?" And then to Laurel: “Do you see anything at all, if she’s still there?”

Miles had some skill with scrying mirrors too. In seeing the dead. Probably not the best time to bring it up.

He punched the pedal rather than brake at a stoplight. The park loomed in sight. The branches of trees hung low weighted by all the rain. So dark. No sign of life.

Leon Choi

If Leon were smart enough, he would've taken the opportunity and gone home as soon as those words left Laurel's mouth, but he had made himself a promise to stop running away from everything, so of course he had to say yes. Well, at least, if he died, he'd die with a clear conscience.

He sat on the backseat, letting Miles and Laurel take the lead and wow, if he wasn't already traumatized of being inside cars, this would probably make him fear for his life. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out of it for a bit... "I---no?" He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "So--sorry, but that was the best I got." Which, he knew it wasn't much, but it had got them there. And it made Leon sink further down on his seat.

Once the car came to a stop, Leon stepped out, hands in his pockets which found his phone and he switched on his flashlight. "Laurel... if you want, I think now it would be a better time for you to use the mirror. Or maybe you'll do a better job with the crystal now that we know she's around here. It's better than going around yelling her name."

Laurel Gavaris

At that point she didn't care about her car, the speed, red lights or anything but Rosa. Laurel felt numb towards her surroundings, all she had her light hues focused at was the mirror she was still holding onto, as she enchanted in a lower tone: ostende mihi illum quem quaero. And it didn't take longer for her to see Rosa, crystal clear in front of her. Not alone, definitely not alone. And the fear in her eyes perhaps was the reason why, not only Laurel's heart skipped a bit, but she also almost lost control of the spell. "We're definitely close." She shared, knowing that despite how dark it was outside and the rain didn't help at all, they were close. At least, they were already near the park.

In the mirror in front of her there was some light which helped her recognised the woman's face, and that flick of lights were soon noticed by the witch flashlights. "Rosa... she's— not alone." That was all she said before moving her attention up for a second, the brief second she needed to notice a lighy between a few branches. She could've reacted better, of course she could. However, those were desperate times, and with that Laurel raised her tone, demanding the action. "Stop." She waited for the moment she could finally get out of the car, "it's Rosa, I know it's her. I can feel it... her fear." and run. "Rosa!"

That section of the park was pitch black, the trees created shadows that caused her to always assume she was close when she still wasn't; Laurel forgot about werewolves, any danger, anything. Her aim was Rosa, and Rosa only.

Miles Easton

The best Leon had was no. OK, fair enough, Miles told himself and took a breath. Driving was every bit as stressful as he thought. Laurel began an incantation in Latin and he was tempted to glance over until he heard they were close.

Miles knew only fast and stop in terms of a car, but somehow managed to slow to a roll. The outline of images in the park were there, but shrouded in shadows. The trees, swings, a slide. A path disappearing over a bridge. Laurel told him to stop and he did.

Laurel was out of the car before the others. Miles reached into the back and grabbed the only things he could think to before leaving the studio. A flashlight, and luckily Leon had brought one as well. A ceremonial silver dagger. Just in case.

He stepped out and turned on the light and swept it back and forth before catching the coven priestess’ image ahead. Oh. Fuck.

Miles saw a light too other than his own. Out in the distance, in the direction they all headed. Laurel was long gone, far out ahead. Miles turned to Leon. “We stay together.” He said, firm and slightly annoyed, walking faster until he broke into a sprint. The other witch has run off. They all split up and they are done for.

Leon Choi

“Shit—“ Leon tried reaching for Laurel but she had already started running, and Miles was right, they should stick together. “Yeah, no... I know.” He kept (or tried keeping) his phone up so they could see better the path where Laurel had gone to.

He came to a halt when he found Laurel kneeling over a body, and he would swear that he wouldn’t be able to take that scene out of his head. “L-laurel...” he breathed in, slowly taking steps closer to her. “Laurel... let’s... let’s call the police.” He crouched down, resting his hands on her shoulders, then looked over his shoulder. “Miles... Miles, call the cops, man. We uh... we need to report this.”

Laurel Gavaris

"No, no, no. Rosa," Gravity wasn't her friend at that moment, and Laurel instantly felt her knees colliding against the ground. When she got to the young woman, there was no one around her, but she still could swear that she was being watched; her body was shivering and she wasn't certain if it was due to the cold, the emotions coming to surface as tears would stream down her face or the fact the person who did this to hear could still be around. "Lo siento mucho Rosa. Te fallé, te dije que te protegería y te fallé. Desearía haber llegado aquí más rápido, Rosa, te juro. Lo siento mucho." And that was all that was pounding over her head the moment she finally found her. That she was sorry, that she should've done something and that she had failed someone who counted on her. Laurel wanted to hug the woman, to do something, if possible even bring her back to life, but there was nothing she could do but closer her eyes.

And that was when she noticed she was no longer alone. Laurel heard Leon's voice and instead of facing towards both men, she just continued on the same position, silent, still looking at Rosa in front of them. Dying by herself, alone in the woods, what a horrible fate for someone who had always seem so pure, so loving. Had it been a wolf? Someone else? Even if utterly impossible, had it been Anselmo? "Call them." She cleaned her tears, still unable to stare at them, but still wearing a firm tone to hide how broken she felt.

Miles Easton

Miles and Leon stayed only a few footfalls away from each other. Even from a distance they both could tell Rosa had been found, but not in the way anyone had hoped for.

The brain wanted to conjure magical thinking, to ask if the witch was okay, when clearly she wasn’t. Miles could see the grief-stricken heave of Laurel’s shoulders as she knelt beside Rosa with Leon there to comfort. Rosa’s body showed signs of a struggle, a fight too much for a lone witch. She hadn’t survived.

But there were no signs of what a full moon could compel to stalk the woods at night either. Blood, but no claws, no bite wounds...

Leon and Laurel were telling Miles to call the police. He pulled out his phone and dialed while looking around. Were they even alone? Was whoever did this to Rosa watching, waiting to pick off more witches?

“We need to get back to the car,” he said, the rest of a thought interrupted by a 911 operator answering. Miles wasn’t often at a loss for words, but in the plummeting degrees of a sudden summer storm he stumbled, trying to remember where they were directionally, becoming impatient with requests from the person on the other line. “Yes, I’m certain… please, just please hurry,” he urged.

The rain began to let up. It was so quiet he couldn’t hear the wind at all. Only an unsettling stillness and murmurs from Laurel. “The police are on their way, and an ambulance.” Miles paused, and then walked over to kneel beside the other two. He rested a hand on Laurel’s forearm. “Go back to the car, both of you.” A glance between the two."I’ll wait here.”(edited)

Leon Choi

“Laurel...” Leon, gently rubbed her arms, trying to pull her up from the ground, but not wanting to force her, especially when she seemed to be going through a lot with her friend. “We should get up.” The problem was that he didn’t really know how to be that person for others... he didn’t know how to comfort others, but since Laurel had been nothing but good to him, he was putting an effort for her sake. “Laurel... come on. Let’s go”. He gently tried to pick her up from the ground, glancing over at Miles.

At least the police was coming, but it would be an annoyance to get their statements, but hopefully they would figure out what happened to Rosa. He didn’t know Rosa, but nobody deserved to die like that... alone in the dark and left in the middle of the woods. “I don’t think we should split. You said that yourself.”

Laurel Gavaris

It was almost as if her eyes couldn't see past Rosa, and the conversations around her echoed in her surroundings but the words uttered by both men didn't keep her attention for far too long. However, she felt their touch, the pressure of both Leon and Miles' hands over her arm and forearm; she didn't feel so lonely because of it. "Okay, thank you," she pressed her hand on top of Leon's arm. Her thoughts were still haunting her and there was a turmoil of feelings that didn't cause Laurel to feel as present in that moment as she could but still, Leon's words caused her body to automatically respond to it, moving up, feeling the breeze against her skin, this time not as smoothly as she usually was grateful for. It made her feel alive, and she didn't like it.

Laurel had never been one to deal so well with death, her first encounter with it was when she was too young to compreehend but still old enough to feel the pain, with her siblings wasn't so difference, but this one had a change of perspective. And that was the reason why, when she finally took in everything that both men had shared with her and when Leon's words: I don’t think we should split, got to her mind, she turned to face them. "I just lost someone because they were alone. I'm not leaving any of you, I'm not losing anyone else. We'll leave here if we all leave together and if any one of you try to tell me otherwise, I'll use my power to make you agree with me." She sighed, feeling weak but standing still and with her head held high. And then she faced only Miles for a second. "I'm your leader, I've been through worst in life. I can deal with this, I can wait here."

Miles Easton

‘I don’t think we should split. You said that yourself.’ That was before they ran ten seconds into the future and found a dead witch. “I know what I said. Things have changed.” They were all in danger now, and Miles had a host of comments to make. It wasn’t the time to fight over it, so he wrung as much emotion out of his words he could and delivered them as calmly as possible.

Because they were all thrown by what they saw and the implications would be seared into their minds. His own mind was reeling with so many questions, so many responses, so many ways to ensure no one else ended up like Rosa.

Laurel got to her feet. He’d never heard her say a n y t h i n g at all like she did then. Would she dare use her power to keep them there? She was his leader, what?

Miles had a convenient way of going completely numb in a crisis. Clinically minded, focused on the facts, and the true jolt to the system would be processed later. A blip of anger crossed his features. Staying there, standing in the middle of the park to be another target for whoever did this to Rosa, was absolutely stupid……

Laurel was feeling everything. Leon was trying his best to help. Rosa was dead, and the rumbling of a fight he was suddenly desperate to have with the two witches standing there would best be saved for Rosa’s attacker.

The three were also protected by the earlier spell.

Miles wanted to exhale a breath that felt stuck in his chest held since he stepped out of the car. But he stayed silent. He broke the tight gaze held on the others to set the flashlight on a nearby bench, kept on so the police could locate them.

There was a dark secret he’d never shared with his coven or anyone in Astoria, had never planned on doing so. Could he still do it? Could he hear Rosa, could she whisper to him the name of who or what did this to her?

Oh fuck this is not how he ever wanted this to go, but. He turned back to Leon and Laurel. “I… might be able to still talk to Rosa.”

Leon Choi

Leon didn’t like the predicament he had got himself into. He had promised to be less of a coward, but at what cost? Getting involved with other people’s businesses, possibly being forced to go under investigation from the police, and all because he wanted to show Laurel that he cared. He almost snorted at the thought... this wasn’t some sort of test to take the pretty girl to prom. It was a stupid crush anyway, he shouldn’t have to prove anything to anyone and yet, his feet weren’t moving. Instead, he was staying put, because it mattered to Laurel, so, he found out, it mattered to him to.

“No offense, man... but Rosa died because she was alone.” His hand slid down and he took Laurel’s hand on his own, drawing circles upon her skin, probably to make himself calmer rather than her, but if it worked on her, then it was both their luck. “We’re stronger if we’re together. We can channel our powers to make ourselves stronger and even do another protective circle, just the three of us. Whatever got to your friend might still be out there...” And of course, he wouldn’t say it out loud, especially since he had just began his studies once again, but he wanted to stay behind and protect Laurel and Miles too.

His brow arched up at Miles’ words. Wouldn’t he need the things Laurel had ready when they contacted the ghost that was bothering Leon? “Like—a seance? Wouldn’t we be able to see her if she was still around?” His gaze went from Miles to Laurel.

Laurel Gavaris

Her hand moved through her hair showing her frustration for a second. That was the exact moment that she could mourn, that she could pour out emotions that they moment they left the scenario, she would no longer focus on them. That was the only moment she'd show her vulnerability and how much a loss would keep her over the edge; and in case someone doubted that, her previous words had been a good example of it.

But then, almost as if there was a switch within herself, she bottled up the sadness and how worry she was because what Miles had shared changed her focus and at least, Leon's touch over her hand kept her centered. "Okay..." That was when she decided to at least walk closer to where Miles was standing, her light eyes staring at him and trying to have the best glimpse possible of his demeanors due to the gloomy setting they were at. "Rosa's just died, she'd need to have more strength and practice to show herself to us," Laurel replied to Leon once he questioned the young brunette. "And we'd be able to see her if she wanted us to see her, even with the spell they have to, somewhat, want to be seen. Or the witch should have practiced enough to be able to make them appear to the living." That was her explanation, or one she had been taught throughout those years.

"Which means... you can force her to be here?" And that question was directed at Miles. "Wouldn't it be too soon? What if we confuse her and she thinks she's still alive?"

Miles Easton

“You’re right, Leon.” Soooo painful for Miles to say to anyone. Standing in the circle with the coven casting a spell had occurred less than a half hour ago and yet it seemed so far away. An invisible cloak of protection clung to their shoulders just as the rain did. Leon was also right in that Rosa had been alone, for some unknown reason, on a night when no one should be. If she had only been at the studio...

“It’s not a seance exactly.” His eyes lingered for a moment on Leon, catching himself before finishing the thought. Miles began to realize that the longer he spoke, the more frustrated he would become. It was not the time to suggest dark forbidden spells to reach a deceased witch. Law enforcement would soon arrive. His best bet was to be agreeable. Slide through the arrival of the police on charm and with concern for the events of the evening. Make sure the two witches with him stayed alive.

And then he would go home to reach out to Rosa himself. Alone. To see what she could tell Miles about what happened in the woods.

Laurel spoke, still shaken but with a steely core holding her upright. Being the leader she said she was. “Of course. Let’s forget I brought it up. And be here for Rosa now.” He stepped to Laurel’s other side to look down again at the witch they had so desperately searched for. Miles rested a hand at the dip of the priestess’ spine for a few seconds of further assurance. He wasn’t sure if it was a comfort or not. “You didn’t fail anyone tonight.” Words meant even less, but they were all Miles had in such a fucked up situation. Laurel said she was strong, she had been through worse. She wanted to be there, and that was what they would do.

The idea continued to play over in his mind. Damn. What in the hell was Rosa doing out here?

Leon Choi

When Laurel moved, Leon decided it was about time he let go of her hand and instead of standing there, looking as lost as he did, he shoved his hands in his jacket's pockets and followed her, standing closer to Miles as she did too. He was more than used to seeing dead bodies, so Rosa in itself, didn't bother him. What bothered him was knowing how upset or uneasy those around her had been due to her death. Again, it was just like he'd read it somewhere: death didn't happen to you, but to everyone else around you who were left to pick up the pieces you've left behind.

Even though he heard what Laurel had explained to him, Leon still kept his eyes on the corpse on the ground, mostly because he was trying to think of all the possible scenarios that would paint them as the criminals. They had a solid alibi... they had been at Laurel's studio and had plenty of witness to that, and Leon had taken an Uber from his place to the studio, so he also had that to prove his innocence. Unlike Miles or Laurel, Leon didn't have a reason to be there. He wasn't a part of Laurel's coven and he didn't know Rosa, so he needed to look after himself. Crouching down, Leon used his phone's flashlight to point at Rosa's hands... he wished he had something to lift up her hands and check if she had skin under her fingernails other than dirt. Hopefully some blood, too. Any trace of DNA that would lead to her killer.

"She didn't die easy..." He mused, mostly to himself, seeing the dirt under Rosa's nails. Her jeans had a rip on one of the knees, which could mean a sign of struggle too. Standing up, he saw the flashlights at a distance and waved his own, waiting for the cops to arrive. As some marked the scene as a crime scene, others took Miles', Laurel's and Leon's statements. They were advised not to leave town and make themselves available for further investigations, before letting them go.

#astoriaevent3 #( full moon: buck moon. )#( c; miles. )#( c; leon. )#death tw #( chat. )#( transcript01. )

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bladekindeyewear · 4 years

Photo

Freed up some time, actually! Gonna blog the new pages of HS^2. Liveblogging resume...

FYI, the post I glimpsed that alerted me to the fact that new pages exist had a translucent screenshot of Brain Ghost Dirk on it, so I know that at least is in store for me. Makes sense; a way to involve Dirk’s voice obnoxiously heavily even when he’s too far away to narrate. And ties into this... chapter(?) name, of course. Chapters, huh?

> CHAPTER 1. Ghostflusters

God. Damnit.

Could we NOT??? No?

Fuck you, Dirk. I blame you for this.

So we have greenery, a can-city and Sburb-legal human house mix... some sorta cow-looking thing from far away in the front yard...

The void resounds. Space seizes and warps as the bounds of relevance erode away to nothing but the wishful nostalgia of times passed. There is a hole in the middle of the universe, and it is hungry.

All very literally true.

But the denizens of this particular iteration of Earth C don’t know it. All of this is just business as fucking usual for a planet plagued by war, continuous inclement ghost weather, and the general malaise of being absolutely severed from canon.

--oh, FUCK. This isn’t the new planet, this is Candy timeline Earth. I didn’t wanna come back here! :C

I guess that explains most of the content warnings. Except fucking ALCOHOLISM. Gee, thanks for adding THAT to the Candy timeline, as if it wasn’t fucked over enough!!! Bluh.

I thought the closing lines of the Epilogue were that after RoboDave, Aradia and alt!Callie dove out of the Candyverse inside the singularity, the black-hole timelines and Dirk’s presumably-still-”relevant” nonsense weren’t going to collide with each other again? So... why are we seeing this? Is there going to be MORE influence like that, and the ending line was just fancy-talk? Is it just an irrelevant little follow-up to Candy to show things turning out okay or pseudo-okay, like an epilogue to the epilogue? Or is some of this Dirk nonsense presumably within the bounds of some sort of canon going to still have some last bit of influence on this so-called non-canon timeline?

That last one would make sense, given that it echoes how Homestuck^2′s dubious canonicity would still have definite influence on fanworks outside of canon. Right?

Let me pull that last line from the epilogues again--

...where’s the Epilogues’ log, this is getting kind of hard to find with all their reorganization... fuck, I had to guess at the URL even. Here we go, the last page of Meat...

The hole leaves behind an absence in the sky so calm that continuing to call it a sky wouldn’t seem to do it justice. It’s a perfectly neutral expanse into which anything one can imagine might be summoned. And for a while, anything was. But not anymore. Where the hole gaped just moments ago, there now exists an imaginary line.

Above this line resides all that matters. Below exists all else. Never again the twain shall meet.

...Right. This implies that Canon and Non-Canon shall never meet again. BOTH ways. Doesn’t quite gel with the fact that we’re cutting back here--

Oh.

This is about Jake and Brain Ghost Dirk isn’t it. I noticed his name down further on the page. THAT’S why we’re cutting back here.

So, Canon and Non-Canon aren’t exactly meeting... not for anything relevant, anyway. But we’re using Candy Jake’s visibility of Brain Ghost Dirk to get a better idea of Dirk’s broader self and plans through a splinter of him? While getting another glimpse into how the post-epilogue Candy timeline is going for our, er... “curiosity”? Is that it?

Hm. I guess that doesn’t count as the twain “meeting”... I’ll just keep reading now.

They spend their days absorbed in the petty and pointless pursuits of “having jobs” and “raising families” and “falling in love”.

Is this Dirk’s narrator voice? This sounds like something the current megalomaniacal Dirk would say.

I’m not going to quote the rest of the text’s further reminders of how Jane has been made into an absolutely fucked-over asshole in every timeline except the one where she grew old to open a Joke shop, adopt Dad, die, get prototyped and timeline-doubled, then mysteriously disappear from any mention in the Epilogues as if the Sprites were just forgotten about completely eventually.

> (==>)

Oooh, using the less-relevance-surrounding-parens that were used on retconned ghost!Vriska back in Homestuck proper to denote our presence in the non-canon Candy timeline? How handy!

Not a far-away cow, then.

John has been an incredible pal, opening up his home to Jake and his son on such short notice, and even offering him a pair of pants, as well as a shirt that he has so far neglected to put on.

Alright, that got a chuckle from me.

John’s house doesn’t have air conditioning.

What the flying fuck.

...Ah, John’s been away patching things up with Roxy some more, I presume.

It, like the rest of his assets, is in her name. She’d seen to that as soon as they were married.

Life players and assets, huh? Always gotta be hoggin’ em.

He hasn’t seen much of Tavros today either, but that’s not unusual. He’s probably out with his kismesis, the one he thinks Jake doesn’t know about.

Huh. Maybe Candy’s young Vriska? Couldn’t get the real Tavros with your main self, so your alternate nigh-clone self settled with a human by the same name? Or one of the other kids we heard of from this ‘verse..?

> (==>)

Jake’s hot man-bod cropped out of this image to avoid titillating my readers too much.

(Tumblr keeps jumping back to the top of my post after I add images and I keep thinking the title reads “Ghostfuckers”.)

Jake washes the dirt out from under his fingernails, and his eyes fall on the bottle still sitting on the counter. John had opened it, but together they’d barely touched the stuff. Jake had promised him and Tavvy he’d dry up his act and all, but... well.

God damnit. If this is still Dirk-voiced narration -- I’m not sure it can be, now I think about it, as he’s supposed to be “out of range” or something, unless non-canon is just malleable like that, which wouldnt be surprising (or Dirk’s splinter’s presence allows it) -- he could literally be inducing or writing in Jake’s drinking problem just to hurt him more. You can’t really put an overstep that assholish past Prince Dirk the way he’s gotten to be.

There was another ask in my inbox insisting that Dirk wasn’t going to stay the true villain here, if only as some sort of karmic revenge for declaring his self-importance... but I still don’t think that’s the case. For one, Dirk HASN’T declared himself the villain... he still can’t see how fucked-up and unjustified his trampling over of everyone’s wills IS. Shadows of recognition... but not really. He really honestly believes he has the fucking RIGHT to do what he’s doing.

(Which is, incidentally -- to answer another ask -- why there’s basically NO chance that Rose has some sort of control or recognition of her situation under the surface, and is playing Dirk, as another person hopefully surmised. No. She really IS being unknowingly steered away from personal growth and recognition of the thought-control she’s under... because nothing less could feel as horrible to us.)

Part of the entire POINT of Homestuck and its Riddle was to show that these crazy kids, if they put their wills to it, always had the potential to be the literal Gods of the world around them. That when ordinary people grasp the will and drive to shape the world around them, they can turn everything back from the brink of destruction... or vice versa. Thus, it’s only appropriate that a player from this game could become a villain more disgusting than any we’d imagined in the series so far. What he’s been doing -- writing twisted sorrow directly into the lives and experiences of those around him, nurturing their worst, most power-hungry tendencies (Rose) and deceiving them more directly than Doc Scratch (who was PART Dirk) ever did, making a JOKE of their free will in a more terribly direct way than ANY have been shown onscreen to do?? It IS, and is MEANT to be, the worst we have EVER seen in Homestuck. Not as clumsy and from-the-outside as Lord English, but just as blatantly direct. Not as easy to ignore or mistake as Doc Scratch’s horrible, intentional Prince-of-Hearty worsening of the players, instead just as impossible to gloss-over as it is to bear witness to. That very TITLE, “Prince of Heart”, can embody the very ANTITHESIS of the Ultimate Riddle itself, robbing EVERYONE of their ability to shape not just the world around them, but even so much as themselves or their very thoughts. When used the way Dirk is using it RIGHT NOW, anyway. And his ambition is to impose this on all of Paradox Space.

There COULD be another villain, later. But I can’t imagine a single one more appropriate. And Andrew’s just the type to use one of the Striders, both practically self-inserts of parts of his personality and presence, as that ultimate villain to be overcome in a story about escaping Canon, too.

Turning his ex into an alcoholic just for his own self-satisfaction? In a side timeline where Jake didn’t even try a relationship with him again and finally had a chance to grow up happy in SOME universe? I wouldn’t put it past him, and you shouldn’t either.

Moving on.

> (==>)

Eugh. I just... don’t want to think about him being an alcoholic on TOP of everything else. As if there wasn’t enough to deal with in Candy already.

> (==>)

Hm?

> (==>)

The jungle air is heavy, humid, and familiar. Twenty years on and the thick drag into his lungs settles on him in a blanket of nostalgia, reassuring in its discomfort.

Hm. Is this his fantasy, or a view of him in another timeline?

He is deeper in the jungle than he’d ever venture in his waking hours. There were places on his island that not even his Gran would tread, and she’d been the bravest person he’d ever known.

Hmm. So he even knows it’s a dream, but is still in control...

Jake doesn’t recognize anything. The jungle of his dreams is wild and unknown, and there are things moving in the dense undergrowth.

...Hhhuh. Still not sure what to think of this yet.

A sudden wind thrashes the canopy. There are pine needles in his mouth. There aren’t any pine needles in the jungle.

Very Dream, then.

> (==>)

--Yup.

> (==>)

Yoink--

> (==>)

JAKE: Yes you are i know that much. I saw your body! I carried your coffin chock full of all those stupid fucking swords! DIRK: Nope. JAKE: Dont nope me mister!

They would pile all those shitty swords into his coffin, yeah.

Anyway, now to see how much Prince Dirk is in this Dirk. And if he’s in one mind with himself or has the slightest chance of feeling rebellious.

JAKE: I know a dead dirk when i see one! DIRK: Sure you do. But that wasn’t me. Are you really surprised to find out I got a couple of spares? JAKE: So what youre saying is you arent my dirk. DIRK: ...That is a whole ‘nother conversation that we really don’t have time for, pertaining to exactly who or what ‘your dirk’ actually constitutes. DIRK: Do you mean the Dirk from your timeline? DIRK: Then yes, that Dirk is dead. DIRK: If you mean the Dirk that you fucked and then ghosted, no, I’m not your Dirk. DIRK: If you mean the Dirk that you felt closest to, that you really knew--

...well, this Dirk still knows how to be a presumptuous, pushy creep. :(

JAKE: Ahhh! Brain ghost dirk! DIRK: In the ghosty flesh. JAKE: Crumbs bro where have you been? JAKE: I could have used someone on my side! JAKE: You just disappeared one day without even the odd toodaloo to mark your passing! DIRK: That isn’t strictly true. I did disappear, but it was in a catastrophic blaze of hope-drenched pathos. I even threw out a couple one-liners. DIRK: But you wouldn’t remember that. JAKE: Because...it was a different dirk? DIRK: No, a different Jake.

Hhhuh. So in the claymation-reproduced Lord English stagefight -- or, maybe more likely, the pre-retcon Aranea-induced Game Over timeline -- he was too washed out by hopesplosions to manifest properly?

DIRK: Until recently there’s been a shortage of ambient narrative relevance for Dirks, since one particular motherfucker has been sucking it all up like a thirsty little twink at his first interspecies rave.

Hm! So Prince Dirk has been making it so other splinters of himself have really limited ability to influence, huh? Guess that’s a sort of price for the narrative-hijacking power he’s attained. Wonder how this Dirk really feels about that.

> (==>)

--Pff. He’s certainly not shy about letting Jake know he shouldn’t trust him, though! That’s a good sign.

I’ll split the post here for a bit. Seems we’re about halfway through this upd8 from the look of the log.

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #bladekindeyewear #blastyoboots

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jeanjauthor · 4 years

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A rambling musing on mortgages, stone lions, traffic signs, & European heraldry, the symbology that rules much of our modern lives.

Stone Lions at the end of a driveway...means that the mortgage has been paid off.

I like this concept...except I think I’d want to get stone snow leopards. I grok them (get them / intuitively understand them / feel at one with them) more than lions, or any other cat...other than housecats. Might be easier to get stone housecats...but if I got them...

Would I get them as Sejant (heraldic term for cats sitting upright, butt on the ground, forelegs vertically straight, think cat statues from Egypt), Couchant (heraldic term for butt & belly/chest on the ground, forelegs semi-stretched in front, head erect, think of lions in front of the NYC Public LIbrary), Dormant (same as couchant but head down, napping), or Catloaf (not an official heraldic position/term, but basically couchant with the paws tucked under, head erect)...?

Rampant (heraldic for one foot on the ground, the other three raised as if scratching/mauling/attacking) would be difficult to acquire, and require either: hellaciously expensive stonecarving with supportive flora or flowing cloak or tail dragging on the ground, etc, to hold up the weight of the body; cement or geopolymer with steel rebar support welding it to a heavy base; wrought iron (which can support its own weight on one slender-by-comparison hind leg); or cast resin...which would require more supportive elements.

Or maybe I could go totally modern and install video screens, and just stream images of funny cat gifts & videos all the time...? (And occasionally flash a sign, “This is NOT a drive thru entrance, No U Cannot Haz Cheezborgers Here!”...?)

...Also I have no idea what to call this position, heraldically. (Which could totally be my aesthetic, not gonna lie...well not gonna fabricate, ‘cause obviously if it’s my aesthetic, it’s my position and I’ll lie down ‘n mlem it, lol.)

If it were a bird, it would be Splayed, but splayed is seen in a position looking directly at the belly of the beast, like an X shape, usually with the head at the top of the image, tail (feathered or otherwise) down at the bottom. This is like...dormant inverted?

The tongue mlemming in the .gif would not be replicatable in a static image, but tongues showing is often a part of heraldic design; you just have to say “langued (color)” (langued = we gave it a tongue, yo!) to indicate it’s visible.

And since snow leopards are automatically argent (white/silver, a metal (the other metal is Or, gold/yellow, and always written with a capital O)) spotted sable (black, a color, but in minor amounts compared to the main color)...you have to tint the langue (tongue) a contrasting hue.

This means that argent (the main ‘color’ of the beast, heraldically considered a metal) must be langued (given a tongue) with a color (often rouge (red) or azure (blue), but could also be purpur (purple) or even vert (green)). Or it could be tinted with a “fur” (spotted in special ways, or patterned in specific ways meant to emulate ermine spots, grey squirrel fur backs & bellies, etc, but let’s be honest, a tongue is too small for that, and my tongue isn’t always dead-fuzzy in the mornings, so it’s not 100% “me” to have a furry tongue.)

Confusing? I know!

But remember, European heraldry was designed to Make Things Visibly Distinct At A Distance. Before the eras of snazzy uniforms (American Revolution, French Revolution & Napoleonic Wars, the Prussian Army, etc, etc), everybody just threw on whatever armor or protection they had available and went to war...and...in the melee scrum, everyone moshpitting around you could easily end up killing folks on your own side by pure mistake.

So heralds came up with rules for heraldry...and to this day, those rules govern our lives, writers, artists, readers...and those rules have gone worldwide. Not just because of colonialism (sorry for that part of things, everyone else), but because the rules work.

If I recall correctly, I’ve blazoned (written out in fancy heraldry language) this particular sign before:

On a lozenge Or within an orle, on a billet sable, a torteaux, a bezant, and a pomm. --12th Century Norman Heraldry language (English translation: With our fancy shorthand language and its many governing rules, we are describing a yellow diamond shape with a thin black border around its edges that doesn’t actually go all the way to the edges, so you still see a little bit of yellow at the very edges of the sign; in the center of all that yellow is a black rectangle that’s vertically long, and on that black rectangle we can see a red circle at the top, a yellow circle in the middle, and a green circle at the bottom.)

Aka it’s a Traffic Sign Ahead sign. For those who aren’t visually impaired, if you’re on the internet, you’ve probably been exposed to enough other modern life images to know what this is.

The yellow background is bright but light in color, compared to the black, the red, and the green elements. (Btw, a torteaux is French for cake, bezant means the gold coin of the Byzantine Empire, and a pomme is French for green apple; it’s way shorter and more concise to say a torteaux, which is automatically defined as red & round, than a red circle, one word for the price of two.)

Here’s another one, a little more challenging to define:

Ignoring the 3D-esque shadowing and oulining, we have:

Argent within an orle sable, a fletchless arrow upright, shaft and pheon broken to dexter, sable, surtout an annulet barred bendwise gules.

...Who the what now??

Since it’s not on a diamond shape (lozenge), but instead on a square (a form of rectangle), we don’t have to mention the shape, this time. Coats-of-arms are always presumed to either go on a shield shape or a flag (rectangle or square) shape. It’s only when you get fancy (or female coats-of-arms, blah blah blah), that you have to mention it being on any other shape.

Argent (white background) within an orle sable (thin black border that doesn’t actually touch the edges, same as above), a fletchless (no feather bits) upright (arrow pointing up), Shaft and pheon (midpoint and arrowhead) broken dexter (to the viewer’s left, but the wearer’s right if they’re actually wearing this as a shield or a tabard; the fact that we include the pheon (arrowhead) in this indicates the arrowhead is off to the viewer’s left); surtout (another object lying on top of the last one(s) we just described) an annulet (fancy name for ring) barred (it’s got a stripe across it!) bendwise (hey, it’s a diagonal stripe, from dexter chief to sinister base (viewer’s top left to bottom right, but the wearer’s top right to bottom left), gules (ande hey, it’s red!!).

Basically it’s a No Left Turns Allowed sign. The red circle-with-diagonal-slash is a “Not Allowed” symbol, and the arrow points to the viewer’s left, indicating “Do Not Turn Left Here.”

Black on traffic signs is a strong color that shows up very well against yellow (the color used for cautionary rules, curvy road ahead, rocks falling, pedestrian crossing, etc) and white (absolute rules, such as Speed Limit/Maximum signs and Do Not Enter signs, etc.). Black is most often used for either text, or for arrows and other lines indicating the flow of traffic (merging lanes, etc).

It’s visually friendly to pair up a very strong color (black, red, brown, blue, green, rarely purple) with a pale one (white or yellow). People who have colorblindness issues or who need glasses to see can usually still tell the various bits apart with these high contrast choices.

But...the smaller the details, the less you want to clutter those details. So the basic rule in heraldic design is, make the image about 6 inches tall, pin it to a wall, and stand back 10, 15, or even 20 feet. Can you still tell what it is? Yes? Good design! If you cannot...rework it!

So...the reason why I got off on this tangent is that...well...I finally sold my house. Which means my mortgage is technically paid off.

So I could get stone lions for my driveway...except I no longer own the property. *sigh*

But I’m hoping to take the funds leftover from paying off the mortgage to buy land outright, and build a tiny house on it. Which hopefully would be paid off without needing a mortgage...or maybe only the tiniest of mortgages...which means I could get “stone lions” for my driveway, some day.

...Which don’t have to remain stone-colored.

See, that’s the thing: statues in medieval times weren’t always plain stone, ya know! (Certainly not in Roman & Grecian days, hoo boy did they love color!) They painted them, covered them in fabric and flowers, applied gold and silver leaf, copper sheathing, etc, etc, etc.

So I’m sitting here wondering what sort of “My House & Land Are All Paid Off” stuff I could get. Because I (technically) could...some day.

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noir-porker-parker-holland · 5 years

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O.O

Ben Hardy x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k of fluff bc it seems im incapable of writing anything else

Summary: You were joe’s Bff and he introduced you to Ben, needless to say sparks fly and MIckey was involved

A/n: My asks are always open so you can request something or asked to be added to my tags . Or for shit’s and giggles you can just say something. wow i sound desperate -----

Being Joe's Best friend had it perks. For one, you were usually his date for events if he didn't already have one. He'd invite you to set every so often. You also got to me a bunch of actors that you looked up to. You were an English major and was trying to be a writer, so everytime you needed a character that was in showbiz, you'd implement things from real life into your story. Or implement different personality traits from different people you've met.

Currently you, were writing-or more like trying to begin to write a novel.

You had a character named, Noah. He had the classic fuckboy look, but was actually a very shy,introverted person. You were looking for a very specific personality traits that seems to be rare in most people so you were stuck at your computer on a Wednesday afternoon, thinking about different characters you've seen in a movie or read about that acts like Noah. But Noah is a unique character that can't be copied, or so it seemed.

You groaned while getting up from your seat at the table to walk to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. At that moment, a knock hit the door. You groaned again knowing you'd have to walk to the door to open it. You were met with your best friend's face in the doorway looking more excited hat usual. “Hey Joe,” you said letting the boy in. “Y/n do you remember that movie I auditioned for a while back?” He asked. “the biopic about a band or something?” You asked, he nodded, “it was a Queen biopic. But i just got a call. And I got the part!!” He shouted. You looked at him and smiled, “congrats buddy.” You sat back down at your table, looking at the screen once again before evidently rubbing your eyes frustratedly. “Writer's block?” He asked. “I have a character, Noah that has a particular personality traits but I can't seem to perfect his character.” You said.

Just then, a light bulb shone above Joe's head. “Why don't you come to set with me in a couple of weeks and maybe you can meet some people to base the character off of.” He suggested. You looked at him with wide eyes. “Bro, that would be amazing!” You said coming over to hug him. You closed your laptop and got ready for a fun day with your bestie.

----

A couple weeks passed and you forgot about Joe taking you set. Your story, sat there on your laptop unopened because you knew you'd just waste time looking at the screen. So you wrote a bunch of short stories, poems, etc in your free time. As you finished up a short story you had in mind, your phone rang and a silly picture of you and Joe flashed across the screen. “Hey Joe, what's up?” You said. “Hey y/n, I'm on set right now and I was wondering if you wanted to come tomorrow?” he asked, voices were evident in the background. You didn't have class tomorrow nor were you working so it worked out perfectly. “Yeah, I'm totally free so you'd pick me up?” You said. “Yeah, around 8-ish.” He said. You nodded though he couldn't see you. “Alright see you then.” You said ending the call.

You tried to remember all that he told you about this movie, “it's a biopic about Queen” and that's when it hit you. Queen was your all time favorite band and you brushed that minor little detail off as though it was nothing. Needless to say, thra minor detail made you extremely anxious for what would come tomorrow.

----

Tomorrow- or today now, came quite quickly. You were up at 7 in order to get ready for when Joe came. You put on some black acid washed jeans, a graphic tee, and some black doc martens and packed your backpack with your laptop, a sketchbook because you had notes on it, and some other stuff. As you finished off your makeup for the day, Joe knocked on the door. You put your lipstick, phoen, charger, etc in your bag and went to leave. “Hey kid,” Joe's said. You chuckled. You were quite younger that him, you only knew him because your brother was dating his sister and when you met him you two be and friends. But I've the many years you've known him, he's acted like he was the exact same age as you.

You hopped into Joe's car and left for set. Throughout the entire car ride it was you and Joe singing along to queen songs, or you two just crashing up on what was happening in each of your lives.

“So y/n no new boy news?” Joe asked out of the blue. You snickered, “ha as though that would ever happen.” You said. He looked at you with an incredulous look, “shut up. Stop doubting yourself. You are going to find a man, and hopefully it will be by my doing but either way you will find a guy to at least spend some of your life with.” he said. You looked at him, “has that worked out in the past? No.” You said. Your previous relationship ended in your ex saying that the girl sucking his dick was only performing a 'service’ and that he felt nothing towards her whatsoever. And that resulted in her slapping him, and saying “you said you loved me!” Before gathering her shit and leaving. Which led to you breaking it off with him. So, that's why you don't necessarily trust guys.

Soon enough, you were at set and Joe was leading you to where the magic happens. “Hey Joe!” You heard someone exclaim but you were too busy letting your eyes explore all the things around you. “Oh y/n this is Gwilym Lee he plays Brian may,” Joe introduced. Gwilym stuck his hand out for you to shake and you gladly took it, mumbling a 'hello nice to meet you’ to the very tall man. “Ah, My love!” You heard Joe exclaim which prompted you to turn to look at 'his love’. “Hello Joe,” a blonde headed man said. Even though he didn't know him, you were about to steal 'his love’. “Oh Ben,” Joe started. So his name's Ben, cute. “This is my best friend, y/n.” You took Ben's outstretched hand and you felt his gaze on you linger a bit longer than usual. Gwilym and Joe exchanged a look before saying they were needed somewhere else, leaving you and Ben alone together. “So Ben who do you play?” You asked. “uh, Roger Taylor.” He said timidly. You both stood there quite awkwardly before you opened your mouth to speak again. “Hey I'm can you tell me where Joe's trailer is? I need to get some writing done.” You said. “Oh yeah sure, btu you're a writer?” He asked. You nodded, “I'm writing a novel right know- or at least trying to.” He looked your way while leading you. “Why do you say that?” He asked. “Writer's block is a bitch. I can't seem to find a right personality traits for one of my characters and it sucks.” You explained. “Well can I read what you have so far? Once we get in the trailer.” He asked, you nodded.

The rest of the walk to Joe's trailer was quite awkward and quiet. Albeit, Ben is great company but you just met him and he's a bit shy. He opened the door for you and you entered Joe's trailer. You sat down on the couch and Ben was next to you. A reasonable distance way but you didn't mind if he were to scoot closer. You opened up the document on your laptop and placed it on Ben's lap so he could read.

“Wow,” he started. “But?” “But there's a lot of talk about Noah but he hasn't been introduced so…” he trailer off. You nodded your head slowly, “Noah was the character I was having trouble with. Couldn't seem to find the right trait for him, you know?” He nodded.

You both stayed in the trailer till it was Ben's turn to go shoot his scenes. Then you were left alone with not even Joe to keep you company. Just then the door swung up revealing a blonde lady. “Joe! I- oh hello. Are you here with his?” She asked. You nodded, “hi, I'm y/n Joe's friend.” She shook your outstretched hand, “I'm Lucy. I play Mary in the movie.” She explained. “Can I just say that I'm living for this outfit right now.” Lucy complemented. “Why thank you, that so kind you to say.” You said. “Well I need to go shoot some scene but I hope to talk to you a bit later. Bye.”

And with that she left.

By the time Joe said to meet for lunch you were almost done editing your first draft of a short story. He texted you saying to meet at his trailer so you figured you wouldn't need to move. “Hey y/n, have a nice time with ben?” He said wiggling his eyebrows. You nodded, “yes as a matter of fact I did.”

“What did you guys do together?” He asked, you knew exactly where this was going. “Well, I showed him my short stories and told him about my character dilemma, and no we did not hook up Joe.” You said. His cheeky smile soon melted into a visible pout that you couldn't help but laugh at.

Lunch was normal with Joe, no talk about Ben whatsoever. Joe showed you some videos of him practicing the bass. Overall, it was a good lunch. Joe went back to set but you had to go home. Your brother had asked you to babysit his year old daughter and well how were you going to decline to the face of your niece. But it would be ok because Joe would stop by later anyway.

You took an Uber home and awaited your niece by making dinner for later. The bell to your apartment rang and there was you brother holding his daughter in his arms. “Hey y/n.” He said.”thank you so much for watching her for the night. It feels good to have a night out by ourselves for once.” You chuckled. “Must be good.” You said. “Ah, it is.” He sighed before leaving.

The baby in your arms fussed and you out her on the floor in front of the TV so she could roam around while you called Joe. “Hey y/n, I have to ask are we still on for tonight?” he asked. “yeah that's what I called to tell you-” you were soon cut off by the sound of Mickey's cries. You picked her up and held her against you chest while you talked to Joe. “I'm babysitting my niece, is that ok?” You asked. “Yeah of course. I highly doubt a baby is going to put a damper on tonight. Well they're calling me back to set so bye.”

The day went by quick with Mickey. She wasn't ass fussy after you continuously held her. Like most girls she just wants a hug. There was a knock at the door and you could only assume it was Joe. When you opened it, Ben was standing there. Cheeky Joe, you thought. “Hey Ben,” you said. “Where’s joe?” You led him inside. “Oh he couldn’t make it. Said something about a date with his TV,” He told you. “But um, who’s this?” He motioned to the baby in your arms.

“Oh this is my niece Mickey. I’m babysitting her for tonight.” You said, as he nodded. “So, what exactly do you and joe do on movie night besides watching a movie?” He asked.

You walked to the kitchen with Mickey starting to fuss in your arms once again. “Well uh-” Your sentence was cut off with Mickey starting to cry. Oh lord, you thought. You tried to calm her down but that didn’t seem to do anything. Ben walked towards you and mickey with his hands out “Here let me take her,” You handed him the crying child and suddenly her cried came to an abrupt stop. She nuzzled into him like she did to you moments before. “Thanks.” You said. “Me and joe usually eat dinner then go to the couch to watch movies.”

He nodded as he said down on the stool, and Mickey closing her eyes. “Do you guys like cuddle and stuff?” He asked, going slightly red. “If we’ve had a shit day. Or we just want to.” You said. He nodded.

Dinner went off without a hitch and not you were sitting on the couch with ben on your left, scrolling through netflix to try and find something to watch. You finally found something and you got comfortable under some blankets.

Half way through the movie, ben asked something that had been bugging him since dinner. “Y/n?” you hummed in response. “Do you want to cuddle or something?” He took your silence as a no and started saying things as an excuse. “You don’t have to. Was just wondering-” He was cut off by you nuzzling into his side. “Seems like Mickey is asleep. I’m going to take her to the room.” You said getting up and taking sleeping Mickey with you.

You came back and found ben lying down on the couch. He made room for you and you two were cuddling. As in, you were almost completely on top of him. His arm snaked around your waist but it was ok. He draped a blanket over the two of you and you sighed contently.

You opened your eyes and looked at the clock 2:47 A.M. You looked up and saw a sleeping Ben. You both must’ve fell asleep. He stirred in his sleep and opened his eyes to see you sleepily looking back at him. “I better go, it’s late as it is.” He said. “Stay.” You said. “It’s late and well at least here you can go back to sleep immediately.” He nodded and you led him to your bedroom. Mickey was still asleep so you put her in the bassinet that you kept in your house just in case you had to babysit. You tossed Ben a pair of sweats that were always too big for you, to sleep in. He had decided against the shirt because it was too warm for it and you couldn’t disagree. You were currently clad in tiny shorts and a t shirt.

You went to the bathroom and brushed your teeth and when you came back Ben was sitting on your bed on his phone. He saw you walking into the room and got into bed. You slid in with him and weren’t sure if the cuddling still applied to sleeping next to each other so you settled with staring at the ceiling. “Are you going to want to cuddle again?” He asked. You turned and nuzzled your face into his bare chest.

----

You woke up to Ben's sleeping face quite close to yours. Your hand was on his abs closer to an undisclosed place, if you know what I mean. Your head was nuzzled into his neck. His arm was wrapped protectively around your waist. Your legs tangled together. You wished you could stay like that forever. But he wasn't yours.

You could easily say after all the time you spent with Ben, you developed feelings. I mean who wouldn't. He's kind, funny, smart, and good looking. But did he like you was the question.

You thoughts about ben were quickly replaced by the sound of Mickey's crying, which evidently woke up Ben. You sprang out of bed going to the bassinet to where Mickey was and picking her up. You went to the living room to grab her bag but you just changes her there so you could spare Ben the shitshow. Literally.

You carried Mickey back to the room and you just decided to lay down with her next to Ben. Ben was already awake but you figured you should probably stay quiet because it was seven in the morning too early. Ben didn't have to go to set so he could sleep in, even if it was in your bed. “Morning.” Ben said once you got comfortable with Mickey laying on your chest. “Morning.” You said. Mickey fussed and you thought she was going to cry again so you sat up so you could rock her in your arms. But she started to make grabby hands at the man next to you. You looked back and forth from Ben to Mickey and figured that was probably what she wanted. Ben opened this eyes and saw Mickey trying to grab at him. “Seems as though she wants you.” You giggled slightly. He grabbed her out of your hands and sat up next to you. “wouldn't be the first time right Mick?” He said. You shoved his bare shoulder slightly and scoffed at his remark. “Uh do you want to eat with me?” You asked. He looked at you like you put all the stars in the sky. “Yeah, I'd like that.

You both went downstairs and Ben was still playing with Mickey as you made breakfast. There was a knock at the door and Ben went to go answer it. “Y/n somebody is here for you.” He said. You made your way to the door, and was met with your brother. “Hey Chris.” You said. “Oh uh, Chris this Ben.” You weren't sure how to address your relationship to your brother. Or lack thereof. They shook hands and he handed Mickey to him. You grabbed her bag and off he went with his child. “So,” he said, feeling as though the atmosphere between you turned awkward. “Hey uh, j was wondering if you wanted to on a date with me sometime?” He asked. You froze at the stove. You turned to him, and nodded. He smiled, “well uh I don't have to go to set today, maybe we could go out tonight?” He asked. “Yeah, I'd like that. Thought we did kind of do this backwards.” He looked at you confused. “I don't usually let a guy sleep with me before taking me out.” He smiled. “Hmm but either way I get to go out on a date with you so does it matter if we slept together beforehand?” He said. You had walked closer to him and now your faces we're here lunches away from each other. You looked to his lips and back and him, he noticed the motion and didn't waste any time placing his lips on yours. The kiss was sweet. It was better than you'd ever had before. You pulled away breathless. “Wow.” You said. “Yeah.”

“Do it again.”

----

That day was etched in both your minds and was single handedly the best day of your lives besides the day of your wedding. But that day was soon become number two in both your minds, because the birth of your son, Nicky was about to be number one. Nicky was two days old and he was one of the greatest things that had happened in your lives.

After that day, the day you exchanged your first kiss with Ben, you went on to date Ben for 3 years before getting married. When Ben had to leave for shooting after your wedding and honeymoon it was harder to let him go. But when he came back, you both went at it like rabbits. It was hard to pinpoint when you actually conceived Nicky but you were glad it happened.

After your wedding, you finally wrote Noah into your novel, given you forgot about him for years. You implemented ben’s personality into Noah and now your book was reaching number one. Congrats!

You were glad lots of things happened. If it weren't for Joe introducing you to Ben none of that would've happened.

There was a knock on the door of the room where you, Ben, and now Nicky were kept while you recovered from and 18 hour labor plus delivery. Ben went to answer the door and in came Roger, Brian, Joe, and Lucy. “Hello you guys,” you heard one of them say. Lucy came over to you and kissed your forehead. “Rami sends his congrats but he couldn't leave the states for another week.” She said. You nodded in acknowledgement and looked down at the now awake baby in your arms. “Congrats you two.” Roger said patting been on the shoulder. “He kind of reminds me of Felix when he was born. Did you cry when he was born? He asked. “like a baby.” You answered for him. “So did I.” Brian hugged Ben, and said to him “I cried for all my children. And boy, seeing them born was just this feeling that you can't explain but feels amazing.” Brian said.

Joe came over to your side of the bed and kissed on the forehead like Lucy. “So do we have a name? Kinda hoping it's Joe. But just wondering.” He said.

Ben sat next to you, and said “his name is Nicholas Joseph Meddows Jones.” He squeezed your shoulder as he saw both Roger's and Joe's mouth form and 'o’ shape and their eyes widening like saucers. “They used our names. “Joe said hugged Roger before bawling like a baby. “Wow. You used out names. That means so much to us.” Roger said tearing up.

“We also have one more surprise. Since Roger you have been Ben's mentor for such a long time and we couldn't have done it without you, we'd like to make you a godfather.” You said he covered his mouth with his hands and kept saying 'oh my god’. “As well as Joe. Joe we wouldn't have ever met if it weren't for you and we are eternally grateful. I mean without you, we would have never met, dated, gotten married, or had this beautiful baby boy. So we thank you. So will you both be Nicky's godfather?” Ben asked. They nodded frantically as they hugged Ben and started to cry. You took the moment to lean over to Lucy and say, you're the godmother to the next baby.” You winked. And she smiled.

This moment, this was a moment you'd never forget. You're favorite people in a room, (Gwilym and Rami were in the states doing press for a movie they were in).

In three years you'd be here again, welcoming your daughter Lucille May Jones, or Lucy May Jones into the world.

But until then, you have to settle on this life changing moment, with the people you loved. But either way you wouldn't have it any other way.

-----

Tags:

@sleepybesson @shewantstobreakfree @ixchel-9275

#ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #ben hardy imagines #ben hardy fluff #joe mazzello #best friend!joe #ben hardy x oc #ben #roger taylor #gwilym lee #lucy boynton #rami malek #ben hardy angst #ben hardy one shots

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uncultureddirt · 5 years

Text

I Let You Decide - Park Jisung

~REQUESTED~

“I wish I never did it. I swear”

‘You can’t let someone else determine your worth.’

You are you for a reason. You were placed on this planet with a purpose. Often times, as humans, we fail to understand the following concept: we are worth it. We tend to let others take the lead on determining our value; we allow them to decide who we are. We are never fully able to see how extraordinary we are. So we believe the words we hear. We fall victim to the critics, the assholes, and the liars. We let them tell us who we are. And we wait for them to announce that we are worth it.

Your bed had been decorated in papers, books, and pens. You resided in the middle of the chaos, wearily hunched over a textbook. To paint a picture, the scenery was dark around you, every aspect of it. The outside world was swallowed in night, too shadowed for the glow of stars, and too gloomy to keep you awake. You always found yourself in the same scenario, and every day began to feel like a loop.

‘You should have started this last week y/n,’ you thought to yourself as you wildly flipped through your textbook. The words on the page seemed to swirl and throw themselves at you. Each letter was visible, yet they refused to form cohesive sentences. Your English paper was due the next day and up until this point, you had not even begun to select a passage to base your paper off of. With the amount of energy you had left, nothing was making sense anymore. It felt like nothing was successfully able to hold your attention for more than a minute. Your mind was wandering and your eyelids were sinking, suddenly pushing you into a place away from crumpled papers and complex words.

Beep

Your body jolted, forcing your eyes open and pulling you out of your zombified state. You rubbed your eyes, lazily scanning your bed for the source of the noise. You tilted your head when your eyes met the glow of a screen. Your phone. Who could possibly be texting you at this hour?

Unknown: ‘Hey’

The number wasn’t in your contacts. You instantly began racking your brain, trying to guess who you might have given your number to. Right as you decided you were going to respond, they sent another message that almost made you jump at the sight of it.

Unknown: ‘You know I think you’re really cute’

“You know I think you’re really cute? Huh?” You read the words aloud, in utter disbelief. “Who the hell is this?” you mumbled while staring at the keyboard. You had to respond and began to quickly type, your fingers dancing across the keyboard. You had to know who this was.

‘im sorry, who is this?’

Unknown: ‘You don’t know? Maybe it’s better we keep it this way’

Unknown: ‘I just wanted to talk to you, beautiful ;)’

“What?” you whispered, staring at the messages that caught your attention in the middle of the night. The compliments were compelling. No one has ever said these things directly to you before. You moved your eyes from the phone screen to the mirror on the wall across from your bed.

The light in your room was dim, but was just enough to illuminate your features for you to see. You studied your face and then dropped your eyes back to a new message.

Unknown: ‘I could look at you all day long’

You laughed quietly to yourself. A large part of you was confused and honestly, almost annoyed. The remaining amount of attention you so desperately needed was pulled entirely from your essay to a mystery author text conversation. How childish… but you did want to know who was behind it. It was in your rights to know, right? Though slowly, your concern seemed to dissipate as you found yourself slightly blushing. A faint wave of confidence had overtaken you. You placed a hand to your face, warm from the blood rushing to your face, and softly smiled, lost in wonder.

You never found out who it was that night, and though you told yourself it wasn’t that important, the question endlessly circled your mind the next day. Due to your newfound confidence from the messages, you found yourself feeling slightly renewed. You walked through the halls of your school looking at everyone slightly differently than you had before. Everyone became a potential candidate for being your secret admirer.

‘Maybe it’s him? No, that wouldn’t make sense.’

‘Oh, wait may- nope, probably not him either.’

While you were consciously assessing others differently, you couldn’t help but feel like people were doing the same to you. Concluding you were likely just being paranoid, you scrapped the idea and placed your focus elsewhere. The most important thing was solely planning for an excuse to give your English teacher about why the only thing completed in your essay is your header. The question about who was texting you last night? That could be put on hold for a few hours.

You sat alone at your lunch table. You hated waiting for your friends to come back from the ordering food. Sitting by yourself always make you feel so vulnerable, like everyone was looking only at you. But what was the alternative? The lunch ladies had a habit of yelling at people who were in line without getting anything. You buried your face into your phone hoping to avoid any attention from being drawn to your lonely presence and also to distract yourself from the thought of it. You were beginning to flip through the messages that were sent to you last night when you were interrupted by a low voice.

“Uh, hey.”

You looked up, immediately turning off your phone.

‘When had he gotten there? I didn’t even notice him sit down.’

“Hi Jisung?” You spoke it more like a question more than a greeting. You knew Jisung. He was in a couple of your classes, but you two weren’t exactly friends. He always had a slight awkwardness to him. Though he was friends with some of the loudest and rudest boys, he failed to share some of the qualities they did.

He was sitting across from you, but struggled to make eye contact. With one final glance at the table, he looked up to your face and continued, “Hi um did you get my texts last night?”

‘No way. There is absolutely no way.’

A siren went off in your mind as you fumbled through reasons on how this could be possible. He barely knew you, how could he say any of the things he said?

“Oh. So that was you. I did, actually. Well, thank you it was real-”

“Yeah uh, well I wanted to know if you wanted to go out with me maybe after school today?” He sounded rushed and robotic, almost like reading lines from a script. It felt unnatural and wrong, but you didn’t notice it then. You felt caught up in what the words were that left his mouth, not how they left.

You had never been asked out before. You always found yourself steering away from ‘relationships’ and always took on the role of the ‘good friend.’ This was new to you, and you weren’t opposed. The siren going off within you was blaring, and you wondered if Jisung could hear it.

“Sure.” As the words left your mouth you observed him wince slightly to himself. The action was minimal enough to go unnoticed, so when a smile covered his as he looked at you, you thought you might have imagined it. He was cute, he really was. You noticed the way his eyes lit up along with his whole face, you liked that.

“Cool, I’ll see you later.”

Jisung then walked back to his table with his head low. The boys erupted into laughter as he sat down in his seat, one slapping him roughly on the back. The table was zoo-like, the boys teasing Jisung throughout the rest of the period, occasionally throwing a look in your direction.

You directed your view back to your phone and sifted through the messages once again. Putting a face to your ‘admirer’ was strange, but it satisfied your burning night-long curiosity. You were fueled by a new high and were so focused on how good you felt that you forgot to think logically. The question of ‘why?’ started to lose importance. You had your suspicions about the sudden turn of events, no doubt, but you were going on a date with Park Jisung. ‘Why?’ didn’t matter.

He planned to meet you at a popular restaurant that you’ve been to a couple of times before. And thankfully, that meant that you wouldn’t have to take a while to figure out what you’d like to eat. It was set for six o’clock, which wasn’t the smartest idea, but you weren’t going to object. The place got extremely crowded during the evening hours of the day. It was always filled with hungry students, busy moms, and sharply dressed people in blazers who were just getting out of work. The crowd was diverse, but they all shared one similar feeling, hunger.

Your emotions felt inconsistent throughout the rest of the day. One moment you were basking in excitement, and the next you were falling into a pile of worries and anxieties about the date. It was all you could think about, your mind was clouded.

You sat in front of your bedroom mirror that evening, your hand shaking slightly while glazing your lashes with a, hopefully, even coat of mascara. You knew it wasn’t a formal event, you knew it was ‘no big deal,’ but regardless, you wanted to look nice. As you watched yourself, the sweet words from Jisung poured into your mind. You found yourself smiling, not only outwardly, but every part of your body felt like it was smiling as well.

You pulled up to the shop a few minutes late. As you made your way down the sidewalk, you could feel the blood rushing to your ears and face. Nerves. They always found you in situations like this. You always seemed to be slipping into your own thoughts and your excitement was slowly melting into worry. Though you decided it walk going to be ok. He wanted you there. He asked you. As you pushed open the door to the restaurant you calmed down a bit.

‘You’ve already made it this far.’

Once you were in, your eyes immediately scanned the place.

‘Where is he?’

You made your way further in, finding an empty table to sit at. Before sitting down you surveyed the place one last time, searching for his smiling eyes. You didn’t see them anywhere.

‘He’s probably running late, I mean, I’ve done that countless times before. It happens to everyone.’

Furrowing your brows, you plopped down into the seat you had chosen. You flipped through your phone for a couple of minutes, constantly glancing at the time.

[6:10 P.M.]

You looked up from your phone at the noise of the door opening. You felt your heart in your throat, thinking maybe it was him. Just as it began to rise, you felt it plummet to the depths of your stomach. It was a couple. You sighed heavily, resting your chin onto your hand. The table you chose faced the window, allowing you to view the street. You found yourself absorbed in watching the cars passing by. You were being stood up, right? You had to be getting stood up.

‘Don’t think that. Not yet, at least.’

You shook yourself out of your trance and looked back at your phone. If you didn’t distract yourself, there was no doubt you’d overthink this.

[6:35 P.M.]

You began tapping the table with your fingers and letting your ears fill with the noise of conversation that wasn’t yours. The seat in front of you remained unoccupied as you stared at it, realizing something to only sadden you further. Every other table for two was filled. Whether family, friends, business acquaintances, or couples, everyone had someone. Somehow, on that specific night, the rest of the world had company. It felt like the universe was mocking you. You let your eyes fall back upon the empty seat. Maybe you were the only one alone that night, but not by choice.

‘He’s not coming.’

You knew that, but you so desperately wanted to be wrong. You wanted to see him come in and tell you that something terrible had happened and there was no possible way he was going to make it on time. That his phone was smashed and he couldn’t even tell you why he was going to be late to begin with. You just wanted validation that someone finally appreciated you and confirmation that whatever the reason for him not showing up was, you weren’t the issue.

With that, you pulled out your phone for the last time.

[7:50 P.M.]

“You know, why am I even waiting anymore?” you mumbled, hastily throwing a tip down for being allowed to stay that long without ordering anything, standing up, and walking out the door. You wanted to hear that someone was coming. You wanted to see that someone actually cared, even if it wasn’t Jisung.

But you didn’t see anything once you were outside. The air that met you was cold and dark. The world became unwelcoming, as if it didn’t want you. As if no one did.

Your face burned with embarrassment and stung with tears.

‘Am I really that pathetic?’

“Yeah uh, well I wanted to know if you wanted to go out with me maybe after school today?”

“No. Why didn’t you say no?” you spoke aloud to yourself as you lay face up on your bed. You thought back to lunch, being reminded of the laughing coming from his table. There was only answer that made sense. It was a joke, and you had fallen for it.

You wanted to move on. Reminding yourself that no one had to know you ever went. Convincing yourself that whatever happened tonight was his fault, not yours. Telling yourself that none of this is even going to matter after a while. And deep down, you probably believed those things.

But you couldn’t fight the fact that at that moment, it still really hurt your pride.

‘Why did he choose me to fool? Do I look easy or weak? Is it because I seem desperate? How many people know about this? Am I being laughed at? Was any of this genuine? Is this what the world thinks of me?’

You were lost in your thoughts and drowning in embarrassment.

‘He didn’t even show up. How could he not show up? I’d rather he’d shown up and tell me there that it was all a big insensitive prank than to leave me like this. At least I would have answers.’

Your vision began to cloud as it quickly welled up with a fresh set of tears. As you let your eyes close you could feel the tears stream down the sides of your face. You weren’t audibly crying, but maybe your body needed to cry, whether you felt like it or not.

Your thoughts were fuzzy and blurry as you drifted off to sleep that night. And strangely enough, there was only one thing managed to remain clear.

An empty black seat.

It’s funny how our minds work. They make us think things, and feel things that no longer exist, or perhaps never existed in the first place.

You fell victim to the unconscious workings of your mind that very night. It occurred when you suddenly decided that everyone thought of you like some big joke. Though the evidence was remarkably slim, as only one event transpired which supported your thesis, you couldn’t void the idea.

And come morning, you had subconsciously clutched to those feelings while you slept. Once at school, it felt as if everyone around you knew what happened, like there was a sign taped to your back that read ‘I was stood up.’ A few times you turned around to check if people were staring at, but no one ever was, of course they weren’t. There was no sign on your back.

You stared at your feet as you walked, noticing a stain of mud on your white shoes. You were searching your brain for when you could have possibly been walking in mud when you felt someone bump into you.

“Oh I’m sor-” you quickly stopped your sentence. You failed to piece together the rest of your sentence as Jisung rushed past you, his vision desperately aimed away from your face.

‘So now he’s coward?’

You dropped your head again, forcing down your heart which had made it way to your throat at the sight of his face. But within seconds of your social silence, a deep voice broke through the noisy hallway.

“Hey y/n!” You turned around. “Enjoy your date night?”

It was one of Jisungs friends, one of the loud ones. He smiled and began to walk next to you.

“Sorry?”

He rolled eyes, “It was a dare y/n.”

‘Of course it was a dare.’

You expected it by now, sure, but hearing him confirm your thoughts still pierced you. Each word felt like a slap across the face. You didn’t want him to know you felt that. So what you said next was a lie, a complete lie.

“I knew that from the start.” Your mouth drew a straight line as you forced composure and before he could see you break, you quickly walked away. The boy was confused for a moment, but he then called after you with a lucky guess.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you actually went!”

You wished you could say you didn’t, but that would have been your second lie.

You pushed your way into the bathroom, thankful to find it empty. You placed yourself in front of the last sink and looked up.

The mirror was cracked in the corner and slightly foggy, but it still served its purpose. You then found yourself staring in the eyes of someone. Someone who looked sad and you wondered, why? Most people would probably be able to brush this off, right? Why was she unable to. Maybe it was because she had actually liked Jisung and before she could even take her chance, it became clear he didn’t feel the same. You began to then wonder why he didn’t.

You searched your face and body, noting every flaw. They seemed to jump out at you as if they had been circled with a marker. Maybe you were just a joke.

You stood before that mirror as you had done last night. From them until that moment, you looked the same and you were the same, aside from one change. How you felt. How you felt was not determined by yourself. No, how you felt now was a result of how he made you feel.

Isn’t it remarkable, what our minds can do? The way they can distort things? Your image became an ink blot, its appearance determined not by facts but by feelings. How? How can others become so powerful to us that we let them determine what we view?

You took your eyes away from the mirror and pressed your face into your hands.

Your eyes are useless when the mind is blind.

You decided to get away from the crowd during lunch and put your focus into your essay. You had never finished it, but your teacher decided she would let you submit it late for at least half credit. Placing yourself at a table in the corner of the library, you began working.

A joke.

You could almost see all of the boys laughing at you as you wrote. But you ignored it and pushed on, letting your pen drag quickly across the lines. You lost track of time as you let all your energy flow into your work. You felt closed off from the world as you sat there, in your own space.

Until your space was invaded.

“I didn’t want to do it.”

You looked up, only to meet eyes with him. With Jisung. You wondered what compelled him to sit there. To remove himself from his friends and come find you. You wondered. Though through questioning, a sudden thought fell upon you. He was there, before you, filling the space.

The empty seat was no longer vacant, but rather occupied by him.

“I’m sorry y/n.”

a/n: I truly would like to apologize for taking so long to publish this work. Thank you for being so kind and supportive during this time, it means a lot. My sole purpose for beginning this blog was to further engage my love for writing and also to entertain my audience. I want you all to feel everything from happiness, sadness, love, and everything in between during these fics. I hope I share some good stories and messages with you all. I will be fully running this blog and taking requests again after May 13. After that time I will be done with most of my hard classes and AP exams. Thank you all for being so amazing I love you all and I hope you enjoyed this :)

#gwrites #park jisung #jisung imagines #jisung sceanario #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream #nct angst #jisung angst #jisung fanfic #NCT #but like why am I so tempted to do a part 2 #like I’m itching

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Bring It On: Eyes On the Prize (Branjie) - Ashley

A/N: This is the last chapter of Bring It On and I just wanna say thanks to everyone who sent a lovely comment my way - it really does motivate. I’ve loved coming back to AQ and writing and maybe I’ll explore that some more in the summer - in the meantime you know I’ll be here reading as much Branjie as you lot wanna give me. Happy bank hol to my fellow Brits and just happy day to everyone else! Hope yous like reading this chapter as much as I liked writing it. Hopefully I can focus more on my A Levels now oops….xoxox Ashley.

Brooke woke to a foreign stream of sunlight forecast across her. Initially, she was panicked, used to her rigid alarms and blackout blinds, the initial unfamiliar scaring her - until she saw Vanessa.

Looking down at her chest she saw the brunette’s head nestled below her shoulder without flaw, slotting into her own body as though they were a lock and key. Two continents bound apart by continental drift now slotted back together with a satisfying alignment. Vanessa’s caramel arm around her stomach, Brooke felt like she’d woken up in heaven, the pair of them entangled in a field of white sheets. Something about seeing the girl who was always on the defence being so serene and calm as she burrowed into Brooke’s body gave her the urge to kiss the top of her head. Brooke didn’t want to leave the celestial city - or the empress who ruled it. She wanted to stay in the clouds with her forever, Vanessa’s bed a safe haven from the outside world.

Like usual, it didn’t take long for the clouds to part and for Brooke to come crashing back down to earth.

The time it took for someone to knock on a door three times if she was being exact.

“Vanessa?” the instantly recognisable tone of Jovan’s voice rang through the room like a panic alarm.

She watched in dismay as Vanessa’s eyes shot open and adjusted to the scene in front of her.

“Shit,” Brooke whispered, leaping out of bed and making a dive for the pile of discarded clothes from the night before.

“Under the bed!” Vanessa mouthed to the girl frantically, pointing her perfectly manicured nails downwards.

About to throw herself under Vanessa’s bed, Brooke stopped in her tracks, seeing a row of red draws where there would normally be a gap.

“It’s a box spring!”

“Vanessa!” he started to bang on the door louder.

“Closet,” Vanessa pointed again - resulting in a deadpan glare from the other girl.

If she’d thought that her life had resembled an Alanis Morissette song earlier then she may as well have thrown on a red beanie and hung out of a car window at this point - bundling her clothes into her arms and plunging into the closet of the lesbian head cheerleader.

“Come in,” Vanessa shouted, her voice still shaky from the near-miss.

Although she felt a twang of pain at the thought of hiding away, as though Vanessa was embarrassed by her, Brooke couldn’t deny that the rush of sneaking around turned her on a little, flashbacks of the night before jolting through her brain and she huddled her knees to her chest and eyeballed Vanessa through the slit in the doors.

“Why are you still in bed - we’re gonna be late!” he picked a sock from the floor and threw it at his sister’s head. Brooke’s sock.

“Sorry, I’ll not be long,” she started to get up and brush her hair, her brother rolling his eyes at her dishevelled state.

“I’ll offer Brooke a lift, I know she’s free first period,” Jovan grabbed his phone to dial.

“Don’t!” Vanessa grabbed it from his hands, quickly glancing at her bedside table where Brooke’s phone was sitting.

“So that’s why she’s been avoiding me,” he snatched his phone back from Vanessa, “You know Vanessa it would be nice if you didn’t fuck around my friends with your cheerleading drama. What was it this time, she didn’t throw you high enough?”

“Something like that,” Vanessa mumbled - Brooke constraining a laugh from inside the closest, the sheer awkwardness and irony of the situation once again making her life a satire of itself in the form of a teenage coming of age flick.

“Well, you better make up soon because I did not buy a ticket to nationals to watch you two scraping.”

“Don’t worry about us,” Brooke could see Vanessa smiling through the gap, visibly excited at the thought of her step-brother coming to watch her cheer.

“Go without me, I’ll head in later,” she motioned for him to exit - Brooke releasing a heavy sigh of relief that she wouldn’t have to be stuck making friends with Vanessa’s shoes for much longer.

Moving out of the closet still semi-naked, Brooke was anything but enthralled by Vanessa’s reaction - scrunching her nose at the girl’s cackles.

“How do you not know what type of bed you have?” Brooke asked the girl, utterly flabbergasted at how they managed to pull the wool over Jovan’s eyes.

“I panicked, it’s what they do in the movies,” Vanessa started to laugh even more until Brooke couldn’t help but join in.

The morning after the night before had always been awkward for Brooke; from the surface, she’d have assumed it would be today but something about Vanessa and her laugh made her feel more at ease than ever, floating above all the unspoken pleasantries.

“Hey, if my ass is big enough to form its own Insta then I doubt it’s gonna fit under there!” Brooke giggled as she pointed to the tiny gap between Vanessa’s bed frame and carpet.

“I’m sorry about that,” Vanessa visibly grimaced, “I just get so defensive and on guard - I shouldn’t have been so rude. I can’t explain it. Like this big fear just comes looming over me, I was petrified everyone would know, that they could see it all over my face,”

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” Brooke grabbed the girls wrist.

There was that fire, back again to swallow her up and cut off the outside world.

“Brooke, you can’t tell anyone about this,” Vanessa dismissed her reassurance, giving Brooke a death glare that made her want to run away afraid and pin her down longingly at the same time.

“I won’t. But you can’t treat me like shit whenever you get scared. And you can’t mess the squad about either, going back and forth with our routine like that so close to nationals.”

Brooke was serious - ever since joining the squad and moving to Tampa those months ago she had channelled almost everything she had into winning nationals; her feelings for Vanessa, her homesickness, her anxieties - they all lead up to that moment and she wouldn’t allow what she had with the girl to mess it up, despite not caring whether it would mess herself up in the process.

“Prom,” Vanessa held a manicured finger to Brooke,

“I need a full promise,” Brooke teased her, raising her eyebrows.

“I promise.”

“I best be going then,” Brooke looked at her phone, wishing she could stay longer but not willing to risk exposure for Vanessa’s sake,

“Yeah, don’t want my brother to think you’ve been held captive by some psychopath.”

“The truth?” Brooke grinned - her heart shattering into a million pieces on the floor at the sight of Vanessa’s toothy smile in response.

“Shut up,” she responded, Brooke proud of herself for out-whiting the sassy cheerleader. “I’ll see you at the fundraiser!”

“Yes, the car wash. The car wash I definitely didn’t forget all about,” Brooke cursed internally and began to text Jovan with a proposal to skip double English that afternoon for a trip to the mall.

“I didn’t,” Vanessa winked as Brooke left.

Shaking her head to herself, Brooke decided that this had been the most clinically insane week of her life. Vanessa kissed her. Vanessa had feelings for her. Vanessa wanted to see her in a bikini. All that had crossed her mind since moving to Tampa, every lustful thought she tried to repress and dismiss as fiction was now beyond belief fact, and Brooke knew she would bask in every minute of it even if it meant lying to the whole world around her.

***

“What about this? It’s kinda Amazon-esque,” Brooke held up a half cobalt, half snakeskin print bikini with high-waisted bottoms to her absent-minded friend.

“I might just go naked,” she tried to get Jovan’s attention as he mumbled in agreement, unable to take his eyes away from his phone; “It’ll save me some money at least!”

Rolling her eyes at his inability to be present, she looked over his shoulder and sighed, “Jacob again is it?” - his head perking up at the mention of the boy’s name.

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded with her, “He is waaay out of my league and I don’t want to seem weird!”

Brooke knew the feeling.

“He’s not and you seem more weird hanging onto your phone every second - let him wait for you,” she snatched it away and shoved the swimwear back in his eyesight.

“Who are you trying to impress with that! My, my mami. Can’t imagine our Canadian princess getting down and dirty in that,”

“No one,” she panicked, Vanessa’s words ringing in her head as she threw the suit back on the rack.

“Get it, I’m kidding,” he picked it back up, “You have the boobs for it and you aren’t in Canada anymore Dorothy. You wanna make enough money to get that extra day pass for nationals and as awful as it seems you ain’t gonna be making it hiding away those twins.”

Turning a deep shade of red, Brooke’s mind couldn’t help but revert back to Vanessa - she figured it wouldn’t hurt to show up to the fundraiser in the bikini to impress her along with making more money. Brooke was adamant that her good intentions certainly outweighed her skewed motive.

***

“BIKINI CAR WASH!”

Like usual, Brooke heard Vanessa before she could see her - always finding something amusing in the contrast between the tiny beautiful girl and her loud gravelly yell. She longed to hear her record an audio book or narrate a ballet - a recording Brooke wouldn’t be able to stop replaying.

Clad in a leopard print kaftan with her dark hair slicked back, Brooke could see the clear frustration in the girl’s face as she tried to draw people into the car wash, taking pride in the quick flash of a smile that ran across Vanessa’s first when they first noticed each other.

“How much we made so far?” Brooke asked the girl, trying so hard to ignore the way in which Vanessa’s eyes did a once over of her body in the bikini.

She still hadn’t fully adjusted to the fact that whatever they had going on was real, that their night together hadn’t just been a fantasy and that Vanessa had felt the same way all along - so moments like this were still surprising her and giving her the urge to kiss Vanessa then and there, her years of disciple training from ballet having the most unexpected use.

“Hardly anything. I knew we should have done something else, I just didn’t want to stray away from tradition. I just wanna make sure we get the best passes,” she started to vent to Brooke whilst she counted the little money they had made.

“We’ll get there,” Brooke smiled as she started to gather her bucket and sponge.

“Maybe the money will come flooding in now we’ve got some snow,” Vanessa grinned at the girl, catching her off guard by throwing a dry cloth in her direction.

Rolling her eyes in the process, Brooke made sure to use her flexibility to her advantage as she bent over for the cloth, earning hollers from the other students around - but there was only one she cared about, the one shaking her head playfully at Brooke; touche.

***

Brooke’s jaw nearly hit the floor when she saw the car in front of her.

Drenched bonnet to boot in mud - she was already having a mini panic attack and examining her nails before even speaking to the driver.

Purple dreadlocks and sharp eyebrows, the girl wound down her window and gave Brooke a quizzical once over.

“You’re an Amazon?” she asked, clearly picking up on Brooke’s different appearance to the squad, something she herself had felt self-conscious about before moulding into the family like nothing was different. The teens in the shotgun and back laughed as they handed the girl a clear bag bundled with cash. Probably the most cash Brooke had seen in her life, she thought to herself as she scanned the parking lot for Vanessa.

“$1000 to clean this thing?” she waved the bag in front of Brooke’s face.

Confused as to what to say, Brooke stood bewildered a moment before Jaren came to her side.

“Vicky, what you doing here? Vanj will flip,” he asked the girl with a gloss of panic on his face.

“I’m here for this lovely girl to wash my car,” she motioned to Brooke who was starting to assemble the missing pieces to the puzzle - before her sat the captain of the Amazon’s rival squad for nationals, Vanessa’s arch-rival.

“She’s not laying a finger on this piece of trash.”

There she was, Brooke’s knight in a leopard print bikini.

The superhuman who protected her from the cruel realities of Earth.

“Hey, miss Vanjie!” The girl waved with a splinter of sarcasm that could impale metal.

“Don’t tell me you’re here to fight,” Vanessa looked down at the girl with her usual fierceness.

“The opposite,” she tossed the bag of money out of the Amazons - green rain at their feet. “I wanna help you get all the funds you need to compete to your best standard at nationals. That way it will be even more satisfying when we wipe the floor with you again, we can win from a level playing field.”

Brooke instantly understood why Vanessa’s nose flared at the mention of the girl, seeing her first start to form a ball in her hand a la Arthur. Her acrylics digging hard into her skin.

Brooke placed a reassuring hand on Vanessa’s arm, slipping a whisper in her direction; “She’s not worth it.”

“We don’t need your dirty money to get on the same level, it doesn’t cost shit to go downwards,” Vanessa kept her cool with a reassuring squeeze from Brooke.

God, Brooke couldn’t wait to compete.

“Take it, don’t take it,” Vicky gave Vanessa an obviously fake smile, “I doubt all the help in the world can get rid of your curse.”

And with that they were gone - Vanessa left a cartoon character with steam blowing out of her ears.

“I’m not fucking cursed,” she started to ball up the money that blew across the car park, gaining attention from others. “We can take all of this to a charity, we don’t need it. It doesn’t matter how many nights we stay at nationals or how new our Pom Poms are, we’re gonna fucking destroy them.”

“It’s okay, she’s just trying to rattle your cage,”

“Well, it worked. I hate the thought of her pitying me,” Vanessa started to run her hands through her hair with frustration. Brooke wanted nothing more to hold them and tell her it was all gonna be okay. “I only did this stupid thing cause it’s a tradition, I’m sure there are better ways of making money than whoring ourselves out washing cars!”

“I’d ask my parents but there’s a reason we moved down here,” Brooke looked down at the floor.

“It’s fine B, we’ve got enough to get by we’ll just have to skimp once we’re down there but it doesn’t matter. We ain’t gonna care what new shit we had and how many days we had passed for once we win,”

“That’s my girl,” Brooke smiled; Vanessa’s sense of determination always sending her head into spins. Her fiery way’s sending Brooke insane.

“You wish, Brooke Lynn.”

She did more than just wish.

***

Brooke couldn’t help but gain a rush from sneaking around with Vanessa. The nights she waited till Jovan was asleep and crept down to the bottom floor bedroom - his new relationship giving them ample time to roam free together. The walks they took to far away parks, buying ice cream and milkshakes - Vanessa was always cherry. The stolen glances they had in practice. It was more than a lust for someone commanding, someone beautiful - it was the way she clung onto every one of Vanessa’s words, the way in which she knew just what made Brooke laugh. It was her vulnerable side, the side she only showed to Brooke. It was all the different layers of her personality in one big ball of sunshine. Around Brooke, Vanessa was irrevocably herself and Brooke was the same.

There was something special about what they had - their little secret away from the world. No one knew about the things they did, no one knew how special Vanessa really was. How she cried at the end of Pocahontas when she waved goodbye to John Smith and chose to stay with her people. How she couldn’t take one bite into a hot pepper without demanding water and screaming at Brooke to help. How she stayed up all night on the phone to Brooke - asking question and question about her old life, wanting to know the girl the best she could, genuinely interested in her stories of ballet and boys. No one knew about them and Brooke didn’t mind because it just felt right - why let the world in when what they had was so perfect just with the two of them. Yes, she sometimes longed to tell the world that Vanessa was her’s, to shout from the rooftops that she chose Vanessa over everything - but she knew in the back of her head that things wouldn’t be the same. That behind the stormy captain there was a small girl afraid of one drop of rain. Although it lingered in the back of her mind that they couldn’t stay this way forever - Brooke knew she would go as long as she possibly could hiding with Vanessa if that’s what it took to be with her - she would wait as long as it took for the girl to be ready so long as she could keep holding her hand, laughing with her and kissing her along the way.

She just didn’t know that their own movie-style romance would be cut short by an ad break they were unable to skip.

“Everyone’s gonna be here soon,” Brooke muffled as Vanessa made for her neck, leaving smooches down to her clavicle as Brooke sat in her tank and shorts ready to practice.

“It’s fine, I told them to come a little later,” Vanessa grinned before kissing the girl.

“Wait,” Brooke pulled away, teasing the girl, “You postponed practice one week from the biggest competition of the year just so you could get something warm between your legs? What kind of captain are you?”

“Well it was just to spend time with you, not sexually driven but if you’re that way inclined,” Vanessa raised an eyebrow and started to kiss Brooke again, deeper, with more passion.

At first, Brooke could tell it had been hard for Vanessa to say things like that aloud, to admit that she wanted to spend time with Brooke, that she wanted her body, but as times progressed she had become more open around the girl and started to throw her inhibitions out the window.

She hadn’t even registered that her top was off, and so was Vanessa’s until they heard it - the almighty boom. The fatal voice.

“Vanjieee!” Silky burst into the room.

Glass shattered. Shelves collapsed. The sound of distant cries rang in her ear.

Her whole world was now upside down and the gravity that once pulled her to Vanessa now pushed her away even further.

“Shit,” Brooke cried, pulling the covers over herself quickly.

Vanessa stayed silent, a blank gloss over her usual heightened expressions.

Brooke didn’t know where her mind had gone, but it wasn’t there.

“Holy shit,” Silky laughed to herself as she looked back and forth between the pair in disbelief. “Vanjie, you rug munching?”

“Get the fuck out,” Brooke avoided eye contact with the girl as she raised her voice, her concern about Vanessa taking over her embarrassment.

“I guess I’ll be in the garden then,” Silky gave the girls another sceptical look before leaving the room.

The door shut in place.

Barely 2 minutes had passed and what had felt like an eternity of the relationship between Brooke and Vanessa was gone with the click of that door.

“Vanessa, it’s okay,” Brooke wrapped her arms around the girl after putting her shirt back on.

“Just go,” Vanessa looked straight ahead - Brooke didn’t know where she was, but it wasn’t there with her.

“You don’t have to be defensive, it’s fine,” Brooke tried to hold the girl’s hand.

“Go,”

“Vanes-”

“Go,”

“It’s not the end of the world, she’ll understand, I l-”

“I can’t believe we let it get this far.”

“Vanessa,” Brooke’s eyes pleaded at the girl, waiting for her Vanessa, her soft Vanessa who smelt like cherries to come back.

“Just go.”

So she did.

She walked straight out of the house and kept walking until she was running, sprinting. Sprinting away from the pain, away from her problems. Sprinting until her legs hurt and she was going to be sick. Sprinting til her chest leapt up and down with each heavy breathe - letting the tears hit the ground like black rain on her wedding day. Sprinting till it was dark and late and she didn’t know where she was. She was scared to stop because once she stopped it was all real and she had to think about it. When she stopped, she was alone.

Her fingers were numb and the streets unfamiliar. Pulling out her phone, she almost called Vanessa as she went onto her recent conversations, forgetting that her usual saviour was the one who had banished the damsel this time. She flicked past her parents, they would ask why she was there, what was wrong. Even though she knew Vanessa would hate her for it, Brooke called the only person she knew that wouldn’t pressure or pry, the only person here who had seen her anxiety at its deepest and darkest.

“Hey girl, I’m kinda in the middle of something,” he hinted to her.

She tried to find the words but couldn’t and let out a panicked breath.

“Brooke, you okay?”

“Just breathe okay, it will pass. It always ends Brooke, it’ll pass.”

Brooke tried her hardest to listen, to home in on his words and let them overpower the negative.

“Just breathe nice and slow Brooke, it’ll be over soon,”

Counting to ten and doing as he said, she managed to find a part of her voice that hadn’t be stolen by Vanessa.

“I don’t know where I am,” fear started to set in more when she said it out loud.

“It’s fine, I can see on snap, okay?”

“Can you stay on the phone?” she asked, trying hard to let anything else take over her mind - a distraction from the voice in her head telling her she wasn’t good enough.

“Yeah, Jacob can drive and I’ll stay on the phone. We’ll be 20 minutes. It’ll be over soon Brooke, we’ll get you some gravy and fries, yeah?”

She could hear some shuffling and muffled conversation, a thank you, the shutting of a door.

“I’ll even let you add the cheese on top,”

“Yeah,” Brooke started to return back to reality ever so slightly - trying hard to breathe naturally and think about the end when things would go back to normal - her voice still hoarse, fighting its way to be heard, that one syllable a small step to victory in her mind.

***

“Oh god, your boy is waiting in the car!” Brooke exclaimed, only remembering after Jovan had helped her return to normalcy.

“I’m so sorry, I interrupted your night and dragged you out here,”

“Don’t apologise,” he shook his head at her, “I’d much rather know you’re okay then get a bit of D. He can wait.”

“Well thanks anyway, for understanding,” Brooke pulled her friend into a hug, grateful to have someone who would help with her without asking what lead her to that state, still weighed down by the embarrassment that came after a panic attack.

“Anytime,” he grinned, “I’ve been meaning to introduce you to Jacob again anyway, I think it might be getting serious.”

Although she was happy for her friend - Brooke couldn’t help but feel a pang at her chest at the thought of Vanessa - the girl she would give the world for telling her to go. Telling her it had gone too far.

“You better not make anything official without making sure he likes our lunch combo first,” Brooke smiled for what felt like the first time in forever as she made her way to the car.

“I guess we can stop at the 7/11 and see what they have,”

“I believe I was promised cheese on top too,” Brooke curled her lip at the boy jokingly - trying her hardest to think of anyone, anything other than Vanessa, about ‘I can’t believe we let it go this far.’

When was too far? Was it when they kissed in the street after Akeria’s party? When Brooke showed up at Vanessa’s window and gave herself to the other girl. When they stayed up late eating takeout, planning routines and Vanessa fell asleep in her lap. When they walked by the river and talked about plans of sailing away together to their own little island away from everyone else. Or was it when Silky saw them. When Brooke went to usher the 3 words she had began to realise she meant more than anything and Vanessa stopped her.

She didn’t know and didn’t want to.

All she wanted was to have it all back - she knew she would keep the secret forever if it meant having Vanessa.

***

Once again, Brooke had thrown herself head first into cheerleading - yes, she wanted to beat the Vixen’s and come first place, but she had a more important prize in mind. She would stop at nothing to show Vanessa what she had let go. Wanting to perform with the girl one last time before she could walk away and drop it - she needed to show Vanessa that she wouldn’t give up that easy. No one told Brooke Lynn Hytes to go and didn’t expect resistance. The past week had been hard, knowing she’d have to spend time with Vanessa in practice, constantly keeping her head down, avoiding eye contact, knowing that if she saw the girls face she would just crumble. She spent most of her time with Jovan, her solid rock there to catch her when she fell - figuratively and literally - she had never been so grateful for all the times he had watched her routine and helped her through, her gratitude only amplified knowing that he himself had never been given the chance to cheer.

She began to doubt even going to nationals however, once she made her way onto the bus there.

One of the school gym teachers greeted her, ticking her off a sheet and giving a generic rundown of the following days; when they would arrive, what time was free, who’d she’d be rooming with. A surge of sadness welled over Brooke at the thought of all the plans she had made with Vanessa. All the talking they had done about their trip had boiled down to this - to sitting at the back of the bus barely making out her dark ponytail above one the seats. They were going to go to sneak away to the rides in the daytime, Vanessa said she wasn’t a screamer and Brooke knew this was a lie. They would share a room on the night and fall asleep in each other’s arms before waking up the next day ready to kick ass with all their competition. The difference in expectation and reality hit an all-time high to Brooke at that moment. She was only just learning how quickly things can do a 180 from their original path and smack her right in the face.

The energy was immense; everyone happy and excited, the moment they had waited for all year was finally coming but Brooke couldn’t help but sulk back and hide away from it all, building her own fort of loss and longing to comfort her. She closed her eyes in a bid to fall asleep despite knowing she wouldn’t be able to; even the top of Vanessa’s head proving to be too much for her.

“You alright?” she felt the seat beside her dip.

No, she wasn’t. Brooke hated the bipolar captain who was too caught up in her own feelings of self-loathing to give a thought to hers. She was also in love with her, but that was neither here nor there, she lied to herself. She wanted nothing more than to go over and slap Vanessa for being a bitch, to show her that she wouldn’t be trampled on by her sparkling white trainers. She also wanted to slip her the tongue. She really really wanted to slip her the tongue.

“Fine,” she told Jay, feeling reassured that someone had noticed her off-kilter demeanour, “Just nervous, you know?”

“It’s natural,” he smiled, “But once you’re in that moment, everyone cheering for you, the judges right there, it’s all in the flow.”

“Thanks,” Brooke responded, starting to wish she’d spent more time getting to know the other Amazons - her infatuation with Vanessa had kind of put them on the back burner.

“Just enjoy yourself - have you been to Disney before?”

“Not my scene,” Brooke responded, and it hadn’t been, or at least it hadn’t been until she’d pictured herself there with Vanessa.

“That’s what everyone says,” he laughed.

Maybe Brooke wasn’t as alone as she thought.

***

“Oh my god girl, get up!” Monet motioned her arms around the room. “We are in Disneyland, it’s your first ever nationals and you gonna tell me you’ve spent all of today looking at these 4 walls,”

“Yes,” Brooke responded bluntly, turning back over onto her side like the sullen teenager she could be.

“Half of the fun is in the atmosphere. You should have gotten yourself down to the Sports Complex - all the teams practising, doing their little talks, ESPN cameras everywhere. It’s mad.”

“I’m just not feeling well,” Brooke looked at her roommate apologetically.

“I call bull,” she shook her head at Brooke whilst pulling out a makeup bag from her suitcase, “There’s a special UCA night at Hollywood Studios tonight. The Vixens are gonna be there so we can psych them out, and have a little fun before the big day too.”

“I’m good,” Brooke responded, the thought of being in a social environment with Vanessa driving her crazy, she didn’t know if she’d be able to control herself face to face with the girl, she just wanted to be out there performing.

“I wasn’t asking!” Monet pulled a blending sponge from the bag, “And I’m doing your makeup, get over here.”

***

A purple lip and smokey eye later, Brooke was starting to get paranoid about standing out as the squad began to gather piece by piece at the studios. She watched as one Amazon after the other came and said hello - until there was just one piece of the puzzle left to be fitted.

“Vanj just texted,” Silky announced, “She ain’t coming,”

Brooke piping up at the mention of Vanessa, Silky only gave her a dirty look as in to say ‘it’s your fault’. She had spent the past week walking on eggshells around Silky, desperate not to get on her wrong side but also longing to pull her aside and ask about Vanessa; what did she say? Is she okay?

As if on cue, Vicky Taylor and her secondary Vixens strutted over to the squad.

“Where’s miss Vanjie? Too scared to fight?”

“What’s it to do with you?” Akeria stepped forward, giving the other captain a stare that would give Cerberus a good scare.

“Hey Jaren,” she smiled and waved, ignoring Akeria entirely, “you decided to move to a better squad, yet?”

Jaren looked down embarrassed, clearly torn in the battle between his friend and team. “I’m good here Vic,” he responded politely, ignoring the taunting nature of her tone.

“That’s alright, my girls can wipe the floor with you either way,” her eyes scanned the group dismissively, landing on Brooke. “You know, I gotta hand it to you, I really thought Vanjie might bring the slightest bit of competition this year, guess I was wrong for once,” she smiled at one of the girls next to her.

If Brooke had guessed where she would be a few months ago - it would certainly not have been having a dissing war with cheerleaders in the middle of a Disney park but she couldn’t help feel a sense of pride and protectiveness over her squad, over Vanessa’s reputation.

“You know if Vanjie was here you’d be quaking in your boots,” Brooke looked the girl up and down sourly, “She may be half the size of you but she has ten times the bite and you know what Vicky, I think you need to find a dictionary and look up the word insecure cause you’re gonna need it when all your smack talk means nothing on the mat tomorrow.”

“Who are you, her lap dog?”

“No, I’m your worst nightmare. And you better bring it tomorrow or you’ll be crying in your sleep,” a confident side of Brooke emerged and the thought of Vanessa being unable to defend herself to the girl. She may have been furious with her, but she understood better than anyone the fights and effort Vanessa had put in to get to this moment, and Brooke would be damned if she let some sly foxes try and take it away from her.

With the flick of her blonde hair, she walked away triumphantly, only wishing she had the confidence to speak up to Vanessa in the same way - to tell her everything she was feeling and more - the good, the bad and the ugly. The nerves she’d felt in her stomach since getting on the minibus were starting to fade away - Brooke once again knew what she was there to do and she was gonna do it right.

***

Brooke couldn’t help but notice the overwhelming smell of hairspray as she walked into the Sports Centre. Everything was bright and colourful - red to the left of her and purple to the right. Girls scattered everywhere in the most organised chaos she had ever seen. Monet was right, something about walking through the building, hair curled and scrunchies in place, not a wrinkle in anyone’s uniform, cameras all around made her feel like she was on the set of a movie.

Backstage ballet was always reclusive, girls sat at their mirrors focused silent. Here, cheerleaders flipped their way across the room, competitive banter being spat across the room like water. Following the teacher from their school, she walked alongside Monet, taking the place in like a little kid in a costume store - drawn by every sequin and bow.

Near the front of the group, she heard Vanessa and Silky mutter in hushed tones - Brooke having spent the night before laying in bed, willing herself not to pick up the phone and dial the number of their room, or walk up there herself. She knew that her words were wasted on Vanessa at this point, all that was left to do was to throw her heart and soul into the routine and let Vanessa know that she was a fighter.

Adrenaline pumped through each and every one of their veins as they waited in the dressing room. Every lace tied, every t crossed and I dotted, the squad had nothing more to do but wait for the competition to start, an angsty Vanessa pacing back and forth between the seats. All Brooke wanted to do was to hold her and tell her she was going to kill it, but once again she knew that the glossed over Vanessa in front of her was not the one she had grown so close to, the fear of rejection taking over the girl completely. She knew that soon the competition would start and they’d be waiting at the sidelines watching the other teams - and then they’d be up there. Months of practice, months of fear, months of love, months of heartache all bundled into 2 and a half minutes. Her parents, Jovan, all the audience focused on them. A shiver ran down Brooke’s spine at the thought of baring her soul to all those people. Even though she’d performed with more emotion in ballet, there was something about the big open space, the way she could see the judges and the audience that she found more daunting than any theatre stage.

“Everyone go run about; get some fresh air, a snack, a drink, have a stretch - we’re no good cooped up in here,” Vanessa announced to the group with her powerful command. Brooke didn’t know if she’d seen her start to get anxious or not but took the break nonetheless - afraid of the dead air that lingered between her and Vanessa, the noticeable heaviness that hung around whenever they were in the same room.

***

3 bottles of water in her arms and waiting at the door, Brooke was growing impatient at the boys’ messing around; “C’mon guys we gotta get back!”

“Lighten up Brooke, you’re so tense, you gotta go out there all loose.” Jaren pulled a face at her before leaping into a back handspring tuck.

And then she heard it, the death-defying crunch.

It almost happened in slow motion, the way his foot twisted one degree extra to the right, all his weight resting on that extra turn. All that pressure cracking down hard on his ankle.”

“Fuck,” he cried, falling to the ground.

Jay ran to his side.

And Brooke ran to the only person she could think of, the hero who always knew how to pull her and the squad out of the murky waters and into the clear tracks.

“You have to come quick,” Brooke half-shouted when she found her, “It’s Jaren, I think he’s broke his ankle.”

And then they were holding hands.

Brooke didn’t even have time to think about the spark because she was jumping at high frames per minute - someone pressing fast forward one, two, three times on her and Vanessa until they were in the room. Paramedics already at Jaren’s side.

“No,” she looked ahead, “No.”

“I’m sorry Vanjie,” he grimaced with shame as he was helped into a chair.

“The fucking curse,” Vanessa crouched down on the floor in disbelief.

“It’s fine we can get everyone around, we can figure out how to do it without him,” Brooke put a hand on her back and felt like she’d returned back to their little safe haven, her fear and resentment for the girl sizzling away when she saw her looking so defeated.

“We entered with 20, so we have to perform with 20. They have that routine on record we can’t show anything else. You can only change who is competing and your routine if you phone like months in advance,” Jay winced at Brooke.

Brooke watched as the tears streamed down Vanessa’s face - heavy tears of frustration. Years of hard work and she had slipped at the very last hurdle.

“What if we had 20,” Brooke asked, looking pleadingly between the two of them, wanting desperately to make things right for them, to make them right for Vanessa.

“People can’t compete on two teams, and you’re not gonna find some secret cheerleader hidden about who can learn our routine within the hour,”

And the missing piece of the puzzle all clicked into place in Brooke’s head.

“I’m gonna fix it,” she knelt down to whisper to the girl she loved, “I’m gonna fix it all.”

***

“What?” Jovan looked at her blankly, His parents and Jacob either side giving Brooke equally quizzical looks.

“Please, Jovan. Not for me, for Vanessa. You know how hard she’s worked, how much this means to her,”

“I don’t know what I’m doing!”

“You do, think of all the times you’ve helped me practice, watched us in your yard. We have an hour,”

“I don’t exactly scream enthusiasm though do I,” he looked at Brooke, highlighting the flaws in her plan - but she didn’t mind because this was her only chance.

“I know you used to when you first auditioned. Now’s your chance to prove to those stupid bitches what they missed out on and to stitch up that open wound with Vanessa,”

“You owe me like a thousand favours,”

“Thank you,” she pulled Jovan into a hug before grabbing his hand and practically dragging him towards their dressing room.

***

The tension in the wings was undeniable. Everyone had spent the past hour giving it their all, showing Jovan where to stand, who to hold, how to present himself and their routine was now a ticking time bomb that could blow at any minute. Any wrong step would put them at an automatic point disadvantage compared to the Vixens who they had just watched perform flawlessly.

They all huddled together, Vanessa giving the usual pep talks and chants, but Brooke could tell she was scared, she could see the anxiousness in the other girl’s eyes, watching her looking back at Jovan as he went over all the steps in the wing.

They made eye contact across the group, and Brooke was surprised to see a smile from across Vanessa’s face; a hopeful smile; ‘oh, there you are’ it read.

Brooke gave a reassuring smile back; ‘I’m always here for you.’

She watched as Vanessa made her way towards her and just stood in silence, looking at Brooke.

Brooke felt a familiar twang of reassurance. For one of the biggest performances of her life that she had stressed about so much, at that moment, in the wings with Vanessa, she was completely calm.

“Your parents have come to watch you,” Brooke smiled at her, knowing what it meant to Vanessa.

“Jovan told me,” she smiled up at Brooke. God had she missed waking up to that toothy grin.

Before Brooke could begin to respond she blurted out to her: “I fucked everything up Brooke,” sincerity in her voice, “but I’m not gonna fuck this up. This is the last thing I have”

“You gonna bring it, Vanessa?”

“I’m gonna bring it, Brooke Lynn.”

And then they were running out, the energy vibrating through her ears, the crowd going wild.

This moment was Brooke’s and no one would take it away from her.

“The R. A. Charles Amazons!” The announcer bellowed as they pumped up the crowd at the start of their routine, adrenaline seeping through every pore.

And then the music started.

They all started to walk backwards before flipping around - Vanessa front and centre, Brooke could see her shine.

They moved like parts of a finely tuned design. Not a wasted through, not a toe across the line. She looked around the group, Jovan killing every move, Vanessa flying higher than she’d ever seen her before. Brooke knew that second place was no such category. She pushed herself further and further into every tumble, emphasised every beat that little bit more. At that moment, it wasn’t just Vanessa who she thought was superhuman, she was starting to think it about herself. She looked the judges in the eye as they added their quirks, making eye contact as she grand jete’d her way across the floor, as Vanessa did a death drop between their routine.

Brooke could see Jovan beaming through every move, smiling more than she even figured was possible for him to smile. A satisfying warming formed in her heart at the thought that he had finally found his dream again years after it was tossed aside.

By the end of the two minutes, the crowd were roaring for them and everything with hazy for Brooke, surrealness taking over.

She felt someone grab her hand as they all ran to the edge of the boundary, throwing their arms in the air and cheering for the crowd, showing that spirit that they all possessed.

Brooke was elated, with Vanessa’s hand in her own, she was grinning from ear to ear and wasn’t even trying to but when she looked to her side she noticed that Vanessa looked more serious like she was thinking about something.

“I love you.”

Brooke did a double take, about to ask her what she said over the roaring crowd.

And then Vanessa grabbed the back of Brooke’s head and kissed her. She kissed her in a way of telling the world ‘this girl’s mine.’ She kissed her with an apology, with regret. She kissed her with happiness, with cherries. She kissed her with all the build-up from the past few months. She kissed Brooke with the look she’d given her that day in the canteen, the time in the kitchen. She kissed her with everything she had and Brooke gave it all in return. She kissed like she didn’t have a care in the world what people were thinking of her because none of that mattered when she was in Brooke’s arms.

Brooke didn’t know and didn’t care how the squad and the crowd were reacting, because all she cared about was Vanessa.

She didn’t care whether they had come first or not, because she knew that she had her prize either way.

She didn’t think all those months in that car journey that she’d be a cheerleader let alone be in love with one, but she knew that this was right, she’d finally figured out what she was there to do.

“You really brought it, Brooke Lynn,” she smiled at her as they pulled away, tears starting to well in her eyes.

“I learnt from the best didn’t I?”

It was true. Vanessa was all of the best parts of Brooke bundled into a little dark-haired firecracker - and she was finally ready to be open and burst into flames for everyone to see.

“Maybe next year we can do this trip how we planned it?” Vanessa asked.

Next year. Brooke’s heart just about melted. How we planned it.

“We still have tonight!” Brooke pulled the girl back into another kiss as they made their way off the floor.

She knew they had tonight, and the next night, and every night because Vanessa “Vanjie” Mateo loved her and she wasn’t going anywhere.

She knew that whatever battles they faced, the two of them were now going to face them together, telling anyone who dared to cross them to bring it on.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #yvie oddly #branjie #high school au #lesbian au #cheerleader au #angst #bring it on #ashley #submission #s11

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softspaceboibrian · 5 years

Text

Journeys End in Lovers Meeting (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Professor!Gwilym Lee x reader

Summary: Reader is a new student at Harvard University and, on her first day, she does something she might regret. Or maybe not.

Warnings: mention of a stroke

Wc: 2212

A/N: guys, this chapter is very descriptive. hopefully you won't think it's boring or stuff. don't worry! in the next chapters more is going to happen!!

Previous chapters: 1 - 2 - 4 - 5

Taglist: @tegan-eva (ask if you want to be added)

On the other hand, you were pretty different, thing that Gwilym grew to love more than he expected himself to. At first, he didn’t notice the peculiar shade of your eyes, or the constant rosy colour of your cheeks. Gosh, he could look at those eyes the entire day if he could; you had intelligent eyes, and whenever you laid them on him, he knew you were thinking about something, you were studying him, noticing the smallest detail that even him had never noticed before; like that time when you walked up to him after the lesson finished and started off with a “Did you know you look a lot like Brian May? You know, the guitarist from Queen”. That made him laugh, at first, but when that night he found himself in front of a mirror, he started staring at his traits and noticed that you were right, as always. You had a beautiful mind that was always working on some new, fresh idea, that would surprise everyone. If you remained silent for a little too long, he would always ask you what you were thinking about and you would probably start answering by saying “What if…” or “Have you ever considered…”. And those amazing ideas usually came with a big dream. “I want to travel to Rome, visit Keats’ house and see his headstone, then do an essay on the impact that his poetry, his works and Romanticism in general is having on modern day culture.” You said one day, out of nowhere, while you were re-reading one of his articles; you were alone in his office, as every other afternoon, he was drinking black coffee, no sugar, just a little bit of cream, while you had your usual mug filled with tea. You changed the tea every couple of weeks: at first, you started with black tea, then, when autumn came, you moved to chai tea. But now the office was filled everyday with the soft smell of mint and honey, fresh and warm at the same time. Just like you, he thought. He also found out he loved to make you laugh: you had a loud laughter, the type that fills the room with joy, that contagious laugh that you cannot hear and stay serious. Your voice, on the contrary, well, your voice was soft, warm, so pleasing to listen to that he would often make you read his essays and articles aloud just to hear it. You loved scented candles, that’s for sure. You even bought an orange chocolate scented one for his studio, just because you thought he might like it. But in general, there’s no doubt you are a poet. You were quiet, your steps were gentle, just like a fairy’s ones. You were quiet because you were always thinking, analysing things and finding in them the smallest, most peculiar details that no one else would notice, taking time to organize your thoughts and ideas, but still struggling to find the right words. That’s probably the main reason why he has often walked in on you reading the entire dictionary for the umpteenth time. You had so many beautiful ideas, and you would always talk about them as if they were your children. “I’m afraid that I won’t be able to express what I’m thinking, to put it into words on paper, and I don’t won’t to ruin it.” You said to him many times; in fact, it had happened more than once that you could not be productive for days, weeks even, and then suddenly write six poems in an hour. But then, there’s this one thing that he read in one of your poems, one thing that stuck with him. «I wish to be enough, someday.» How could someone like you think that you weren’t enough. You were far more than enough. At least to him.

It was the beginning of December, and the first flakes of snow where starting to shyly cover the gardens and sidewalks, there were no longer leaves on the branches of the trees, it was finally that time of the year when he was able to turn on the fire in his little chimney in the evening. And, in fact, you loved spending the evenings over at his place, sometimes crushing on his couch just to enjoy the warmth of the fire. Or maybe you just enjoyed his company over anyone else’s.

The weeks went by and you got to know each other pretty well during your ‘meetings’ or your coffee breaks. Apparently, he was in fact of Welsh heritage, even though he was born in Bristol. He studied English Literature at Cardiff University and then moved to the USA. But, most importantly, he was the most genuine person you had ever known. You liked to look at him when he was busy working. His hair was long, but not too long, and sometimes little stands of hair would fall in front of his face, distracting him for even just a moment. When he was thinking, he would start doodling on the side of the page or on a spare paper. He collected playbills from theatre shows and museum’s pencils. He always had kind words for everyone. His earbuds were always tangled, and it would take him a good minute to untangle them. He always took artsy picture of everything, his dog, the school library, the first fallen leaves from the tree in front of his office’s window. He loved history, learning intriguing facts about historical figures. He liked to always have an open window, unless it was too cold outside. When he smiled, his eyes would brighten up, the corners of his lips go up, little crinkles show up around his eyes. He was also exactly how one would expect a writer to be: his notebooks a mess, full of notes and doodles, and his desk exactly the same, little reminders scattered all over the wooden surface, an empty pen holder, pens and pencils used as bookmarks. And his head too: he always had so many ideas, he was always thinking of a new article, a new story he could try to write, but that he never actually managed to finish; and you noticed that, sometimes, he would scribble stuff that he needed to remember on his hands and arms. He was definitely a night owl: it had happened many times that she would wake up to a text from him that had been sent at three in the morning. He was so passionate about everything that he liked, like that time, during class, when he was explaining Queen Elizabeth I’s Tilbury Speech, he was basically praising not only Queen Elizabeth herself, but her tutor, Roger Ascham, too. You found it adorable. He knew pretty much everything, except for his own limits. He was the kind of person that would try to make flowers bloom, even during heavy storms. But the things that stuck with you the most was the fact that he always found the good in everything.

“Love” That’s how he had been calling you lately, even around school, not really caring about what people would say. “They are doing Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night in a theatre just outside town and they want me to review it” He explained, showing you the email on his phone.

“Well, that’s amazing! When are you going?”

“We are going tonight. The play starts at 7:30, but we have to be there at least half an hour before the beginning of the play, because I have to meet the woman who has to give me the tickets at the reception.”

“Wait…” You stopped him, visibly puzzled “We are going?” You had talked about that many times before, Shakespeare was by far your favourite dramaturg and one of Gwilym’s favourite authors in general. You had often found yourselves debating whether it was Hamlet or Macbeth Shakespeare’s best play, discussing about every detail that made one’s favourite the best one and not the other’s.

“I got two tickets for free and I thought that you might have wanted to come with me. I mean, it’s Twelfth Night. You love it, it’s one of your favourites, isn’t it?”

You were speechless. You didn’t expect that to happen, not at all. Maybe that was the reason you immediately put your arms around him and reached for his cheek to leave a soft kiss, realising only afterwards that you weren’t at home or somewhere else. You were at University and there he was a professor and you were a student. You couldn’t act like that. So you instantly pulled away, your cheeks turning crimson, but he didn’t really seem to mind it.

“It’s a 45 minutes long drive, so I’ll pick you up at 6:00, so we have a few more minutes in case traffic is a mess. We can have dinner afterwards.” He smiled, his eyes on you, finding that look on your face extremely adorable. “Oh and wear a pretty dress.” He laughed while walking away.

Once you were left alone, you could feel the eyes of numerous girls on you, probably whispering to each other, already making assumption about the two of you. All you did at that point was walk out of the building, almost running towards the bus stop, to escape those curious looks rather than to actually get home early.

It was 5:45 and you were already sitting on the couch, a book in your hands, waiting for the man to send you the text saying that he was waiting for you outside. Wear a pretty dress, he said; and that was what you did. One could rarely see you wearing a dress, or anything a little more daring that a simple jeans and a nice blouse. But that time you decided that you could actually wear something different, maybe one of those dresses that your mother had bought for you years before. It was nothing too special, a simple bodycon dress with blue, burnt orange, mustard and white horizontal stripes. Obviously, not wanting to look too formal, you just paired it with a simple blue cardigan and white converse. Furthermore, you had no one to impress, it was only Gwilym, you professor, and in a way, your boss too. Yes, well, he was still really handsome, charming, and you too often found yourself daydreaming about those ocean blue eyes, that made you feel like you didn’t have to worry about your ponytail being perfect or your laugh being too loud. Whenever you were with him, you felt good, you felt as if that was the place where you were meant to be. And that was not good. You could not feel that way about him.

[from James] Hey love, I’m outside. Whenever you’re ready.

You didn’t even reply. You just put your jacket on and sprinted out, forgetting to say goodbye to Rose, who looked at you wondering whether you were acting like that because you were excited to go see one of your favourite plays or because you were basically going on a date with the man you had been talking about non-stop for the last few months.

You and Rose met the first day you came to Cambridge. She knew a new girl was going to live in the room next the hers, but she didn’t expect you to be, well, like you were. At first, you were reserved, she could barely see you outside of your room, but she could easily understand whether you were home or not, because you would always be playing those old records. One day she even caught you singing a little tune, but as soon as you realised she was watching you, you immediately turned red and shut the door. It took her a while before she could actually get to know you, even just a little bit. At first, it was small talks at dinner, random facts that popped up during movie nights. Then you spent a whole day around town, just the two of you, in which she showed you all the nice cafés and libraries where you could go and study without any problem, the restaurants where you could eat without spending too much, the shopping district, even the pretty places you could go to take pictures or take someone on a date. That day Rose found out some of the most important things about you. You were sitting on a bench in JFK Park and the brunette started talking about all times she had taken her parents there whenever they visited her, the things she used to do with them when they still lived together and how proud they were of her. But your response left her speechless. “My mother died two years ago. Stroke.” Your voice was cold, distant, your eyes on the water in front of you. “And my father is so proud of me that he is paying my tuition so that he doesn’t have to see me around the house anymore.” Rose didn’t know what to say, how to act, so she just stood up and offered you to go and eat ice cream. “I know a place that makes the best mint chocolate chip ice cream in town. It’s your favourite, isn’t it?”

#journeys end in lovers meeting #jeilm #professor gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee x you #gwilym lee #professor!gwilym lee #softspaceboibrian writings #softspaceboibrian

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ladylynse · 5 years

Text

Hey, @pokibal2001, I can’t make the replies work at the moment, but you remember when you asked about the Secret Quartet and the Heroes’ Day fallout? Here’s how the next part could potentially shake down:

The Secret Trio boys would be trying to keep a low profile as much as possible. This isn’t their turf, they don’t know enough about these guys to really fight effectively, despite what Chat’s told them, and they really don’t want someone like Hawk Moth knowing they’re here. They’re way more likely to be successful if they catch him unawares. If he doesn’t know them from Adam, doesn’t know their powers or abilities or their secret identities, then they’ll be much more effective when they do fight him.

Not that they can do a whole lot on their own. Jake thaws what he can once Paris freezes over, freeing some civilians who’ve been iced into buses or buildings, but they’re scared of him. They think he’s just looking for Ladybug and Chat Noir, that he’ll go through them if he has to. And the last thing he wants to do is incite more panic.

Randy doesn’t have a whole lot of luck. He’s going around as Cunningham, not the Ninja—less conspicuous that way—but he’s got one hand in his pocket the entire time, never loosening his grip on his mask. Trouble is, before he can get terribly far, someone realized he wasn’t running away screaming and roped him into some kind of resistance. Most of the fighters know more English than he does French, which definitely helps because his French is practically non-existent except for the words that are really similar to English or Spanish, but actions speak louder than words. These guys—and girls and kids, like younger than him kids—are arming themselves with whatever they’ve got. And they’re prepared to fight. And even if he can’t fake being a Parisian, they’re happy to have him fighting alongside him. He figures, if things go south, he can duck behind part of the barrier and transform.

Danny’s the one who makes the mistake, or at least that’s how he sees it. He’s with all the Miraculous Wielders at the Eiffel Tower. He didn’t mean to act. He didn’t mean to reveal himself, to drop his invisibility. But when the giant butterfly appeared and tried to blow everyone off the tower, he reacted. He wasn’t going to bet that Adrien and his friends would all be able to hang on safely. An ectoblast might take out the butterfly, but it wouldn’t stop the gust of wind that had already started, so he duplicated himself. Tried to catch them. Managed to snag Bee Girl, who seemed too surprised to use her weapon to catch herself, and Fox Girl and Turtle Boy, who had fallen together. Ladybug hung on with the help of her yo-yo—and attacked the butterfly? He isn’t quite sure—and Adrien was quick with his staff, expanding it to catch himself before he could blow away, past the net behind them that had already fallen.

Consequently, Danny’s too busy to follow Hawk Moth. Doesn’t even notice him slip away. The moment he touches down on the Eiffel Tower and his clone disappears, he’s surrounded—because the only one who seems to know about him is Chat Noir. Ladybug is more focused on Hawk Moth, but once the cane dissolves in her hand, she rounds on him like the others, wanting answers he can’t give. She’s also the first to stand down, the first to believe that this wasn’t another trick or some kind of solid illusion. She trusts the word of her partner. The others, after what they’ve been through, are a little more reluctant.

Danny’s pitiful French—Adrien’s tried to teach them all, but he’s barely managed to pick any up—winds up helping his case, convincing the others that none of this is a trick, that he’s real, that he’s telling the truth, or at least that Adrien’s telling the truth, the actual truth, not just what he’s been made to believe is the truth.

After Ladybug and Adrien duck away briefly to transform back, the others waiting impatiently for them to come back and trying to question Danny in the meantime, the story of Adrien’s side missions comes out. Turns out he’s alluded to this with Ladybug, but they never really took the time to talk about it, and she’d never been wholly convinced he’d been telling the truth. (By some stroke of luck, whenever Adrien found himself out of town with his father on a business trip or something similar that turned into Secret Quartet business, there had never been any akuma attacks. Not like the time Ladybug had had a top secret mission by herself.) Now, she can’t deny the truth of the matter, and the others—Fox Girl in particular—pepper Adrien with so many questions he can’t translate fast enough to keep Danny involved in the conversation.

Danny sneaks away to do a quick sweep of the area to see if there’s any sign of Hawk Moth, but he knows as well as the others that the disappearing cane meant Hawk Moth had detransformed. They have no way of tracking him, and Danny definitely isn’t going to be able to pick out Hawk Moth from anyone on the street. He’d hoped to find something else, some clue, but aside from rescuing some girl stranded near the top of the Eiffel Tower and depositing her safely on the ground, he had nothing.

And considering said girl had probably been akumatized by Hawk Moth, chances were good she’d only know him as Hawk Moth. And be unhelpful. Even if he could have understood every word out of her mouth.

Danny eventually finds Jake on one of the bridges. He’d been flying when he noticed all the akuamtized people changing back and quickly landed to assume a less conspicuous form before hanging out in as visible a place as he could find. He has no idea where Randy is. Randy is apparently not answering his Fenton Phone.

This turned out to be because Randy is in the middle of an impromptu street party.

“Yo, how’d you get this gig?” Jake asks, looking around.

Randy grins. “The resistance has good food. And they know how to throw a party. And they’re fast.”

“The…what?”

“Never mind that. I thought you were looking for….you know,” Danny hisses, not wanting to bet that no one else could understand their conversation.

Randy shrugs. “I got sidetracked. You guys were on it anyway.”

“Except I didn’t find anything solid, either,” Jake mutters, “and Danny was too busy telling everyone in their hero squad about us before he could split.”

Randy stares at Danny, and he makes a face back. “Yeah, we’re gonna have to talk to Adrien, and probably to Ladybug if we can find her. And to that girl who runs the Ladyblog to keep us off of it. Because chances are good she’s already caught wind of this, and we don’t need Hawk Moth to find out anymore about us than what he saw today. In case things go south and we’ve gotta do this for real.”

Randy blinks. “Please tell me Adrien knows who this chick is.”

“Already on that.” Jake has his phone out. “He’s texting back, so his claws are in.”

Danny sighs and drags the other two off to the side, flicking them all invisible the moment he thinks no one else will notice. He keeps his voice low as he says, “Look, I messed up, but aside from Adrien’s fellow heroes, the fact that you guys are in on this should be safe. Hawk Moth couldn’t have eavesdropped on us when he wasn’t transformed without someone noticing. Which hopefully means fewer bad guys who know we all work together when we need to.”

Adrien can’t meet them right away—he’s got a friend’s party he really doesn’t want to miss—and he says the girl who runs the Ladyblog will be there, too. He gives them the location, says he’ll catch up with them after, that he can introduce them to Alya then as kids of some of his father’s visitors who are curious about the Ladyblog or that they can talk to her after the party is broken up as fans or as themselves, or at least Danny as Phantom if the others want to keep a low profile.

The thought of other heroes wouldn’t faze the Miraculous Wielders too much, especially when Adrien’s trying to give out as few details as possible. They all know magic is real, after all, and creatures like the kwami. And after getting attacked regularly, it’s hard to be fazed by finding out something that you would have once thought was impossible is actually a truth. They’ve been through that too many times before.

Marinette would fill in Master Fu, tell him what Chat Noir’s been up to, and he might already know or have suspected as much. He might say that why she’s been his main point of contact, rather than simply because she found out first when Tikki got sick. He would probably be aware of ghosts, though not Phantom, and probably of the existence of dragons, though nothing more specific than that, and more likely than not the origins of the Norisu Nine, if not the ongoing legacy. He might be more inclined to reach out with Chat Noir then, to reach out to the current Secret Quartet, if only to offer future assistance if needed.

The next time Ladybug and Chat Noir meet, Marinette would ask him for more details if he’s willing to share them. That’s when he’d pass over the phone numbers of the others. Just in case. Or, if the others are still in town, he’d call her the moment he realized she’d transformed and ask her to meet them somewhere safe where they can talk.

#secret quartet #miraculous ladybug #danny phantom #adjl #rc9gn #replies #technically #this is technically a reply #ladylynse #my writing #pokibal2001

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