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shiftermia · 3 months

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— Golden Years

remus lupin x reader

platonic!marauders x reader

where the gryffindors threw a party and a very drunk Remus convinced his dove to dance with him.

a/n: haven’t written in like 4 months but my everlasting love for Remus has successfully defeated my writers block.

Gryffindor house parties were usually thrown solely after won quidditch matches or holidays. Such holidays also included birthday parties.

This particular party however was vastly different from any other ones. Mostly because the designated sober friend was usually Remus.

Honestly, you should’ve expected something was going on when James walked up to you completely sober whining about how Lily was talking to another boy, ignoring him.

“This is the best fucking thing I’ve seen in ages!” Sirius laughed wildly, sweating before he turning to make a U shape with his hands.

“Cinematic,” he sighed out and turned to see your confused expression and James’s scoff of chuckles.

You shook your head, “what on earth are you talking about?”

In turn his eyes widened almost comically. “You don’t know?” He stepped closer to you, “honestly I thought he would’ve hounded on you already!” He exclaimed.

You furrowed your brows deeper, “who? Remus?” You guessed and he nodded, grabbing your shoulders and directing you towards where the lycanthrope was.

“There he is, the wanker!” He laughed pointing to Remus who was dancing rather stupidly, long arms going everywhere and hair disrupted.

“He’s the only one dancing?” You laughed incredulously.

James rolled his eyes and spoke up, “he’s the only one that’s in love with David Bowie.” At that moment, Golden Years by the man himself echoed throughout the common room. “See!”

You shook your head and stalked closer to your boyfriend with a low bye to the pair. “Good luck!” You heard him call with a bark of laughter and shove from James.

Remus had lost his sweater somewhere and was in a loose very old shirt that was stretched at the neck. “Golden years!” He sung drunkenly, and turned to see you approaching him with a funny smile.

Don't let me hear you say life's taking you nowhere, Angel

“My darling aaangeell!” His voice matched with the song and he wrapped his long arms around your waist, shoulders moving weirdly to the beat.

“Remus,” you laughed. “what is going on?” You widened your eyes as he started jumping up and down, moving your hips with his big hands.

He widened his eyes adoringly, “what’s going on is my dove won’t dance with me!” He grabbed your hand and spun you, bringing you back to his tall frame.

Nights are warm and the days are young

“Are yoouungg!” His voice deepened and slowed as his hands grabbed yours and moved them to the beat of the song he was singing.

You nodded with an exasperated laugh, “you want some water? I’ll dance with you after?”

He only shook his head with cute pout, “nooo, dance now! Water after!”

Once I'm begging you save her little soul

This time his voice became higher, slowing down, “her little sooouuul!” He hands tightened on your waist and moved them, bending down to watch your hips with his lips in a drunken smile.

You grabbed his arms with a slight blush and lifted him up, “ok Remus! Very nice falsetto there!”

“I know right,” he squinted one eye, “Dance with me dove!” He whined still jumping up and down.

“I promise I’ll have water after.” He hiccuped before his hands cupped your face.

“I need a pretty dance partner, please my love?” His bent down and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Pretty, pretty, pretty,” he chanted moving to press a kiss to your lips.

You nodded, “okay, okay, one dance!” You held a finger up. “And after you’ll drink some water, ok?” You spoke to the boy whose attention was slowly fading.

His mouth dropped open with a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as he mouthed the lyrics.

In walked luck and you looked in time

Never look back, walk tall, act fine

“Act fiiinneee!” His hair flopped in his face, almost covering his face as he stood to his full height and spun around you.

You laughed and covered your face, half embarrassed and half exasperated.

In turn, he grabbed your hands and made you jump around with him.

I'll stick with you, baby, for a thousand years

Remus pulled you closer and sung to you, “Nothing's gonna touch you in these golden years!”

Gold

He let his body fall on top of you, holding half his weight before he picked you up and spun you around causing you to laugh loudly.

Some of these days, and it won't be long

Gonna drive back down where you once belonged

He dropped you back down and you saw James, Sirius, Lily, and a very drunk Peter watching you laughing.

James and Peter held up a thumbs up and Sirius and Lily cheered mockingly with loud claps.

You yelped when Remus brought you closer to his sweaty frame, panting heavily he kissed you like a man starved, body still moving slightly.

You separated from him startled with a large smile as cheers and whistles erupted from the common room. This was probably the most PDA you both had ever shown in front of so many people.

Run for the shadows, run for the shadows

Run for the shadows in these golden years

“There's my baby, lost that's all!” He pointed to you and turned to a random boy and shook his startled form.

“Once I'm begging you save her little soul!”

Yours and Sirius’ loud bark of a laugh were the most audible as you dragged Remus off of the grinning boy with an apologetic wave that was quickly dismissed as Remus grabbed you again, spinning you madly.

“Don't let me hear you say life's taking you nowhere, aangeeell!” This time you sang earning a loud laugh from Remus.

“There we go dovey!” His accent became more prominent at his out of breath tone.

He spun around you again and wave his arms up as you copied him.

“I'll stick with you, baby, for a thousand years!” You both sung to each other dancing in front of each other.

Nothing's gonna touch you in these golden years, Gold

He spun you and dipped you as James and Sirius now approached you dancing stupidly.

Golden years, gold whop whop whop

Peter came with a bottle of fire whiskey moving rather weirdly, practically mumbling the lyrics with how drunk he was.

Golden years, gold whop whop whop

You all danced around each other, the most drunk of you all being Remus and Peter. Sirius’s hair was whipping all passers. James took the opportunity to dance with a protesting Lily and Peter stood swaying drunkenly.

You and Remus held hands as you moved each other to the beat and he brought you closer. “Thanks for dancing with me dove,” he said suddenly sounding slightly sober.

“Like I could’ve said no,” you smiled bringing him closer. “I love you Rem.”

He smiled widely, “I love you madly,” he rasped before kissing you in the middle of the common room filled with drunk dancing teens.

Golden years, gold whop whop whop

Golden years, gold whop whop whop!

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satvrngyu · 9 months

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Hold On / theo x fem¡reader.

warnings: mention of self-harm, suicide, smoke and drinks.

++ english is not my first language, i wrote it and then translated it but it’s not the same, sorry </3.

plot: y/n and theo fell in love, but their story’s not working.

type: angst.

we were all at intak’s party that night, people were so many that you couldn’t go from one room to the other of the house without colliding.

as soon as i arrived i met keeho at the buffet who, as usual, cheered up to greet me while he was sitting on the table talking to another guy with raven hair:

« hello y/n, did you finally come despite the stress of the tests? how is it going with the faculty? » he asked me, coming down from the marble he was sitting on.

i smiled instinctively, passing a hand on my arm to massage it slowly trying not to blush.

« everything’s great, i’m just a few sessions away and then i’ll finally be free from this hell. » i answered.

i lied, i lied shamelessly.

i had given up for months now, i had completely run out of stimuli and every day there seemed endless.

i had tattooed on my wrist a sentence to overcome just this emotional breakdown: "hold on", hold on and go on with your head held high.

« i find you well... oh, by the way: he’s taeyang, my classmate. » he said to break the silence that the latter had created around him.

i think had a gift from god: i could create an accurate portrait of the person in front of me only with a glance, ninety-nine percent correct.

the guy whose name i had just discovered was certainly introverted and shy at first glance, a person to know deeply to discover the world inside and beyond.

i stretched out my hand and joined it with his, interlacing them and touching our fingers for a few moments.

we took them off at infinitesimal speed because of the discomfort, it almost seemed like we didn’t want this or as if we both had so much to say that we wanted it swallowed up by the black hole inside us.

i walked away smiling and went upstairs to the balcony, where I knew no one would come.

intak knew me like the back of his hand, he knew i’d be there a few minutes after the party started, and i’d just come down and taste a slice of cheesecake with all my childhood friends, so he even stopped coming for me when i disappeared.

i pulled out of my pocket the pack of blue winstons i was always carrying behind me and i lit one up, taking it to my mouth and inhaling some smoke.

unexpectedly and most importantly, suddenly, i heard someone coming up behind me and sitting in the seat next to mine:

« you shouldn’t run, you know?

"hold on", right? » said the feeble voice that sounded angelicly in my ears.

« we hardly know each other, indeed, we do not know each other at all... what do you know about me, mh? » i said in response to the guy.

« this world sucks and you’re carrying it all inside, you can read it in the galaxies in your eyes. » said poetically and resting a hand on my leg, continuing to stare into the sky and never meeting his gaze with mine.

« you know, taeyang, my heart told me something’s wrong.

since we are finished in this moment of confessions, how about talking to me about what keeps you down? » i asked.

« can you see that much?

it’s nothing, just a bad ending relationship, don’t worry about this nonsense. » said, smiling wistfully and staring at a particular star in the sky.

i tried to look at him too, then i put my head in the hollow of his neck and breathed his cinnamon scent.

then he whispered his phone number.

it was intak’s birthday again, it had been exactly a year since the day i thought i was finally happy after so long.

i thought that tattoo, "hold on", had really brought luck to my poor tormented soul, giving me the arrival of taeyang in the moment of discouragement.

in those months we learned to know each other, perhaps even too quickly, and to love each other as no one else could have done, creating a story that would only be ours and unique.

taught me to cook, i showed him my world of writing and music and we spent unforgettable moments, traveling, making love...

then, like everything beautiful, it all began to fade away and slowly eclipse.

there was not a real trigger event that put a stone over our relationship, we simply understood that in addition to doing so much good we were doing so much harm, taking away opportunities that we should not in any way waste.

he suddenly decided to leave, left nothing, except the sweatshirt that i carefully kept on my bed, the one that still had its perfume.

i thought that maybe we had raced too much, that i should give time to the time, and yet i wasn’t replaying anything we had had because i had finally had the strength to go on and not give up, to hold on and even resume with my studies.

after he left, however, i dropped everything again, as if all the progress i had made had been flushed down the toilet suddenly.

i arrived and greeted my friends with swollen and tired eyes, i probably hadn’t slept much and i had just finished crying looking at our photos and our messages.

as always, i went to the balcony and lit my cigarette, sitting on that deck chair.

this time i had taken much longer to get there, before i had drunk at least six gin tonics, or at least, many enough to get me drunk.

i took another one with me for safety, but i hadn’t touched it for the moment.

then, i felt a presence beside me, one of those you know so well that i didn’t even have to ask you in mind who it could be:

« the wolf loses his hair but not his vice. » he said with a smiling and sad voice at the same time.

« yes, it is indeed so. » i said, fading my words with difficulty.

« why did you drink so much y/n?

it’s not good for you, especially when the doctor told you to stop smoking. » he continued, looking me in the eye.

i looked away, i didn’t want to burst into tears again, even though i knew i was going to do it any minute.

i was completely drunk, i knew i had to pay attention to what i was going to say to not regret it, but i didn’t care enough.

« why did you leave taeyang?

why did you leave me without saying anything? » i said whining.

« it wouldn’t have worked y/n, you know that.

we loved each other so much, but i felt it would be better for both of us to stay away for a while. » he replied.

liar, it wasn’t just that.

was someone else?

you didn’t like me anymore?

i had so many questions for my head and the pain was getting stronger because of the alcohol.

« i loved you so much, and i’m still doing it, but if you decided to leave so maybe it wasn’t the same for you.

do you know how much i tried to hate you?

no, you don’t know.

i tried every fucking way, but i couldn’t and i kept crying about us for too long.

but that’s enough, i don’t want to see you anymore, despite i would pay gold to touch one last time those damned lips of yours. » i said all in one breath.

he moved a strand of hair behind my ear and made my sobs continue as i held my head in the hollow of his neck, his hair leaning against mine looking at the stars, just like the last time together.

« tomorrow you’ll forget everything, and maybe it’s better this way, my beautiful y/n.

i don’t want you to remember the moment i’m telling you that i still love you and that i would never leave you if i didn’t realize i was taking away a part of you.

i was the bad guy, and you didn’t even realize it, but that’s okay.

you’ll meet someone better than me one day, you’ll finally be fine.

now, please..."hold on". » he said and then laid his rosy lips on mine, uniting them in a kiss full of hope and destruction.

i wanted to forget, something actually managed to remove it, but those words of his remained engraved in my heart for the rest of my days, until i could no longer hold on and went to discover those stars that we had observed so much together.

#kpop x reader #p1harmony #p1h smau #p1h keeho #p1h theo #p1h soul #p1h intak #p1h jongseob #p1h jiung #angst

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writingsofanobsessedwoman · 2 years

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A Love of Steel: Shay Cormac

*contains a mention of suicide and depression*

You hammered away at your latest design. A new hidden blade for Shay. You were one of the best blacksmiths in New York, and it hadn't taken long for the Assassins to notice your work. You were quickly commissioned, learning all the working of the hidden blade, and mastering its design. This particular blade wasn't a requested one, but rather a gift. Shay's birthday was a few days away, and you wanted to give him something special. As you lowered the short blade into the oil, your thoughts turned towards him. Most of the Assassins assumed the two of you were lovers. You were closer than most siblings, and you were hoping you could confess your feelings to the Irishman through this blade.

That was a year ago. Shay, as you'd been told by Liam, had committed suicide after going to Lisbon. It took you months to even try and move on. The blade still sat on your bedside table, finished, but never given to him. You kept it as a reminder of him. After his death, you stopped working for the Assassins altogether, being unable to bear the thought of him no longer being around. But, your work had still caught the attention of people all around New York. Folk constantly poured in, wanting swords and even guns, a recent addition to your mastery. Not only could you forge some of New York's finest weapons, you could also add personal details like names, dates, or sometimes small pictures. Something that kept demand high, and money flowing. You were prosperous, to say the least.

Things had been rather slow so far in the month. You had still sold some pieces, but autumn was usually when things began slowing down. You would usually get a new surge of orders once winter hit, though, with Christmas and all. It was the second of September when a tall man walked in, asking about getting a sword and dagger set made for a friend. A set like that was unusual, to say the least. Most people wanted matching pistols or a single sword, but given the pay, you had no objections. The man, with his smooth British accent, began asking about your custom work. As you explained what you could do, he asked for you to inscribe a name into the sword, Cormac. You tried to hide the shock on your face as you scribbled it down into your notes. The man had also wanted it done by September 12th, and delivered to Fort Arsenal that morning, something you were happy to do.

It took you around two weeks, and you'd be lying to yourself if you said you weren't proud of the pieces. Both blades shone, and were sharp enough to cut through just about anything. You'd inscribed Cormac through the sword, choosing to add the cross design to the dagger. As you neared the fort, the sound of a party reached your ears. You could see a ship docked nearby, but chose not to pay much mind to it. As you went to knock on the door, the man who had ordered the set came around, asking you to follow him. You complied, and rounded the corner. The smell of liquor and beer slapped your nose, and music was being played by a small band of people. The man walking with you, whose name was Haytham as you found out, called out to the rowdy men to grab their attention. They all stopped, and began walking over. Haytham scanned them all, before asking a simple question: "Where is Shay?" Shay? You thought. This has to be some strange coincidence. They all stayed quiet for a moment, before one finally spoke up, replying with, "Inside, sir." Haytham turned to you, and apologized, asking you once more to follow him.

He led you inside, and once he reached a specific door, Haytham knocked. An Irish brogue answered, giving permission to enter. A man with dark brown hair looked up, and froze when he met your (E/C) eyes. He stood slowly, walking up to you as if you'd run away if he moved too quickly. Haytham, now thoroughly confused, broke the silence. "Do you know her/him, Shay?" he asked. "Aye do. But I fear he/she doesn't quite recognize me, sir. (Insert a nickname)," he addressed you. Tears began flooding your eyes. Shay was the only one you ever let get away with calling you that. Anyone else got a punch. "Oh, don't cry. I'm here," he cooed. You were sobbing now. "I- I thought-," you stuttered. Shay wiped away your tears, pulling you to his chest. "I promise lass/lad, I'll explain everything. I'm not leaving you. Ever. Not again." You could hear resolve in his voice. You pulled away from his chest, only for him to grab your cheek, and pull you into a kiss. One turned to several, and you only separated when Haytham cleared his throat. Your face flushed more than you thought was possible, and Shay had the widest smile on his face. You remembered his gift, held in Haytham's hands. Haytham gave you a knowing look, passing the leather wrapped blades to you. Before he excused himself, he sighed, saying, "Perhaps it's better you give him this. And don't keep us waiting for too long, Captain Cormac." Shay blushed, but turned to you. You revealed his new blades to him, and his eyes filled with wonder. For a moment, anyway. He set them onto his desk, and pulled you into another kiss, and another, and another. Not even the band in the courtyard could play loudly enough to cover the noise.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHAY PATRICK CORMAC!!!!

#fanfic #assassin's creed rogue #shay cormac x reader #shay patrick cormac #happy birthday #birthday fic #HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHAY #i love this man so much

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theyarebothgunshot · 2 years

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bby, you're not third wheeling, you're the potential temptation to a poly lifestyle 💗. jk, jk. it's all about reframing situations! 😁 i hope you had a nice evening! - 🧩 (also, i am sorry. it' 04:09am as i am typing this which is the excuse i am running with)

lmaooo i am not gonna lie, that one friend who was there who has seen spn is super hot. i spent the entire evening with her and her boyfriend, and if they were to ask...... well....... dshfshf

#her boyfriend is super smart too and it was nice talking with them tbh #the party was kinda meh overall but i was glad they were there #i hope you got some good sleep in the end!! (i was already in bed when you sent this shdfhs)#puzzle pieces anon #also let me just add a weird tangent in the tags here #usually when i go to parties of this particular friend whose birthday it was #it gets super late like 6 in the morning #and we drink way too much #and its fun but then i wake up super tired and kinda hungover #and last night i paced myself and i was in bed by 3 #and i was so happy when i woke up with a clear mind #i could get used to that ngl

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jaybird-redhood · 3 years

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propinquity

wc: 2.2k

pairing: jason todd // gn reader

The first thing you think when you see him for the first time is that he has the cutest smile.

That’s a lie, the first thing you think it that he is so incredibly in shape, and it looks great on him, but the smile thing sounds better in your head.

He's moving into the apartment across from yours a month after you moved into yours. Weird, because the two people in your building closest to your age are 2 and 63, respectively.

You suppose that some wicked twist of fate must’ve brought this upon you for missing your cousin’s birthday party last week, because the guy standing across from you is crazy hot. And looking right at you. And you are in the huge neon Wonder Woman t-shirt that your best friend got for your birthday last year.

Yeah. Karma.

“Nice shirt,” the guy offers, holding in a grin. “You’re really making it work.”

“I-”

“See you around, neighbor.”

And with a shut of a door and an awfully charismatic smirk he’s gone.

The next time you see him is a week later, and this time- luckily, you think- you’re dressed somewhat put together. You run into him while unlocking your door.

"What's got you in a twist?" he asks.

"Um," you start, "I just. Ugh I have so much to do. Like 3 hours of homework, a lecture tomorrow that I cannot skip, and I'm completely out of bread and eggs and can't even you to the store until, like, Thursday at best."

Once you start rambling you can't seem to stop. You slouch against your door. You're not entirely sure why you're telling a stranger all this, but he seems to be listening, so you suppose that’s a good sign

"I get the feeling," he offers, and you look up at him. "I'm majoring in English Lit and my classes are kind of kicking my ass."

You give him a small smile, "Glad to know someone in this building is struggling as much as I am."

"Jason," he says, and he reaches his hand out to you. "My name."

You shake it and tell him yours.

As you both turn back into your respective apartments you think that he maybe isn't as intimidating as you thought.

The next day goes by with a really boring lecture and another 3 hours of work you need to do.

The ride home from uni isn't that long, but it's long enough for you to contemplate all the ways that your life went wrong after moving to Gotham. And, maybe as payback for thinking mean things about the city, rain that you think should belong to a category 3 hurricane starts to whip around your car 10 minutes into your drive.

Your clothes are dripping water in literal puddles by the time you get back to your apartment.

Groaning, you start fishing for your keys in your purse while walking up the last flight of stairs.

When you get to your door you stop. Right in front of it there’s a grocery bag. Picking it up and looking inside you see a loaf of bread and a small carton of milk.

You pick it up smiling.

“Jason?” you ask, knocking on his door.

No response.

You shrug and turn around. Remember to thank him the next time you run into each other; you think.

That next time doesn’t happen to be that long and thank goodness for you.

“You know, we really need to stop meeting like this,” he says to you.

You’re sitting on the floor outside of your door looking rather pathetic, and he’s giving you the most awful smirk you’ve ever seen. (Not that it looks bad on him though. You seem to think that nothing could really look that bad on him)

“I swear I’m usually more put together than this,” you sigh to him. “You moving here jinxed me!”

“Yeah yeah. You’re locked out, aren’t you?”

You give him your best withering I’m going to kill you stare, but it must not be working because he just laughs even harder at you.

“This is completely not my fault it’s just I lost my second set of keys like right when I moved in and then today when I got home, I accidentally left them in my car, but my second set of car keys is in my apartment so now I can’t get them out, stop laughing at me!”

“God you’re a mess,” Jason says- finally finished laughing at you and maybe taking a bit of pity on how disheveled you look. “You couldn’t call anyone to get you in?”

You shake your head.

“My friend is the only other person with a set, but they’re out of town, and our landlord is being a dick and telling me it’s my fault in the first place, so I need to deal with it. I’ve been sitting out here for like an hour.”

“All I’m hearing is that it is your fault and now you’re just moping about it feeling bad about yourself.”

You tilt your head against the door so hard that it makes you wince a bit.

“Ok fine,” he says crossing his arms.

“What?”

“Wait right here.”

He goes into his apartment and comes back out with a skinny metal thing you don’t recognize.

You look at him in confusion and he just motions for you to scoot out of the way as he sticks it in your locks and starts to pick it.

You sigh in relief.

“Thank you thank you thank you. For everything. I swear I will get my life together, so you don’t feel like you have to keep cleaning up my messes.

“I don’t mind,” he says with a small smile, “Take your time.”

And with that he opens the door to your apartment and turns back to his.

“By the way, you should really get better locks. That was way too easy.”

You make a note in your head to get that done sometime. As you’re lying on your couch that night, you’re AirDropped a photo on your phone. Saving it up you see it’s a piece of paper with neat handwriting on it: a phone number and a smiley face, Jason’s name at the bottom.

You smile too and add the number to your contacts.

Over the next few weeks, you and Jason start talking more, both over text and through the various times when you run into each other outside your doors.

Each interaction is better than the next, and you soon start to realize that Jason isn’t just some hot guy with no brains. He’s sweet and charismatic, has a whole wall full of bookshelves, could probably quote any classical novel by heart, has incredibly good taste in music, and best (or worst) of all, would make incredible friend material.

It’s just that as you become closer friends, you start to realize that that might not be all you want.

It’s a stupidly cold Friday morning when he texts you, and you’re covered in blankets and wrapped in sweatshirts in your bed. Movie at my place tonight?

You text back your approval and a quick be there at 6 before getting ready for classes.

The day goes by slower than you hoped.

It might be the anticipation of seeing Jason again, or more likely the hours of lectures you have to sit through, but you’re elated when your final class for the day gets let out.

The hours in between are a blur.

A blur which leads to the two of you sitting on his couch watching Romeo and Juliet together, a blanket thrown over your bodies.

You have the obligatory bowl of popcorn resting on your legs, and every few minutes Jason reaches across your lap to take a handful.

The way you’re laying half on top on him is completely deliberate, as to take as much of his body heat as possible. Your landlord had turned off heating 3 weeks prior to ‘save money’ or some other bullshit.

Jason’s not complaining though.

Once your popcorn bowl is finished and your head is in his lap, he runs his fingers through your hair absentmindedly. It might be the nicest feeling you’ve ever felt.

Throughout the movie you exchange snide comments about the plot back and forth. You start trying to say funny things whenever you can just to hear how sweet his laugh sounds to your ears.

By the end of the movie, you’re only slightly in tears, or so you tell yourself.

“Are you crying right now?” Jason asks incredulously, wearing a teasing smile.

“It’s not my fault,” you half say half moan, “Leonardo DiCaprio just has that effect on me.”

He just laughs and pulls you upright until you’re sitting on his lap.

His eyes are a shade of blue green that you’ve never seen before, although you could swear their getting greener by the second.

You watch his gaze drop down to your lips before staring you right in the eyes again.

“Can I kiss you?”

“God yes,” you tell him, and kiss him right back.

The next week is somewhat uneventful, even though you and Jason had been meeting each other almost every night, rotating apartments based on whose house was warmer each particular night.

Tonight is your night, and you’ve been waiting the whole day to show him the film you had rented to watch together.

The walk up to your door is easier than usual, and you have a bounce in your step that’s making you feel even more elated than normal taking out your keys to unlock your apartment.

You open your door and your bag drops. The keys clatter when they hit the hardwood, and the silence that follows is deafening.

“You’re bleeding on my carpet,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth.

There Jason is, bleeding quite profusely, and using your kitchen counter to keep himself vertical. He’s wearing what looks to be a torn half of a domino mask and an extremely hot leather jacket.

(Not that this was the time for noticing his fashion choices, but you filed that thought away for later.)

What really catches your eye though is the huge red bat symbol on his chest, and the red helmet next to it sitting on your counter.

He shifts a little to the side before stumbling through saying, “Um, so, I know this isn’t ideal and I’m really sorry to put you in this situation, but I seriously do not feel like bleeding out tonight and-”

“Oh my god this is great,” you cut him off with. “I thought you were a hit-man!”

“Wait what.”

“Shit no that’s not what I meant- kind of, hang on we should probably stop you from dying before having this conversation.”

You walk over to him to get a better look at his wounds.

“God Jace, you look like death warmed over.”

He just stares at you.

“You have a bunch of stuff in your bathroom, right?”

At least this elicits a reaction. He grimaces in pain but gives you a nod of his head in conformation.

“Ok I’ll be right back, don’t move.”

He gives you a look that says seriously, where would I go.

3 minutes later you’re back with a needle and thread, and some sterilizing spray.

“This should be fine,” you tell him, “I took a first aid class last year with my friends and passed with flying colors according to the nurse.”

“Just try to keep them tight and neat. I trust you,” he says, and your heart pounds just a little harder.

You respond with a nervous laugh but take a deep breath and start working.

An hour and a half later you’re done.

The combination of pain meds, bandages, and a whole lot of stitches eventually led to you and Jason laying in your bed together, both completely exhausted.

He turns his head to face you.

“Could we maybe go back to the hit-man thing?”

“Oh uh. Well I saw a bunch of shirts covered in blood in your laundry in the bathroom, not to mention all the weirdly specific first-aid you had,” you tell him.

“And also the assorted guns and knives you have hidden all over. I guess I just assumed? But the whole Red Hood thing is so much better,” you reassure him.

“You found all my knives?”

You smile up at him.

“I love that that’s thing you chose to focus on.”

“And you’re really not mad that I didn’t tell you about the whole vigilante thing before?” he asks.

“Jay, I had already resigned myself to life forever with some shady hit-man that also happened to be incredibly good looking. Red Hood is ten times better than that. I’m not going to run away from you just because you’re incredibly intimidating and probably could kill me. I see that as an added bonus,” you say, with as much charm as you can muster without yawning.

“Just. Be careful, ok? I’d hate to make this a routine.”

He responds by pulling you closer to his body.

“I promise,” he whispers into your head. “You really to remember to get better locks by the way, breaking in was still way too easy.”

You let out a small laugh and finally you let yourself give into sleep.

#luce writes #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #red hood x gender neutral reader #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #dc imagine #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #jason todd #red hood #dc

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nmikaelsonimagines · 3 years

Text

Right Where You Left Me: A Klaus Mikaelson Imagine

Request from @s-r-amikaelson: hi, lovely, i saw your "Evermore" list, so could please do a Klaus x Reader with the song "right where you left me" from Taylor? Kisses, sweetie

Hope this is okay for you lovely, and enjoy x

Want to hear the song? Find a link to it just below:

Right Where You Left Me

Friends break up, friends get married Strangers get born, strangers get buried Trends change, rumors fly through new skies

He wouldn’t be there to see it all happen.

Klaus wouldn’t be by your side, watching the world change like he had for so many centuries. He wouldn’t watch your friends get married, the idea of your own wedding disintegrating before your very eyes.

He wouldn’t be there to watch his daughter grow up, to watch her become the bright young girl that she was destined to be. He wouldn’t be there to listen to you tell her stories all about her father, to watch you cry in the shadows when she was fast asleep, missing him deeply.

He wouldn’t be there to watch humans crumble into ash, as they always did, buried in the New Orleans graveyard where their loved ones came to see them. He wouldn’t be there to watch any of it.

He wouldn’t be there to watch the seasons change, the leaves falling, holding your hand as you walked through the woods, talking about everything and nothing.

That’s what ran through your head when he looked at you for the final time, sorrow in his eyes, when he whispered that single word that only you could hear.

“Run.”

And you did, his screams as Marcel plunged that dagger into him echoing in your ears for years to come.

But I'm right where you left me Matches burn after the other Pages turn and stick to each other

One year.

One year without him. Hope was three now, walking and calling you her auntie. She had picked up a particular affinity for colouring in, not quite staying in the lines, but that didn’t matter. She had adopted her father’s artistic ability, it seemed.

You looked over at her latest picture, telling Hayley you would tidy up, letting the hybrid get an early night. Hope was already in bed, fast asleep.

You hadn’t slept in a year. Not when you knew that Klaus was in unimaginable pain. Maybe it would have been better if you had the support of his family around, but they were just as incapacitated. You picked up Hope’s picture and made your way to the attic.

It was dark, and you struck a match to light the candle on the wall, the only source of light in that dingy old place. Four coffins came into your view and you strode over to the nearest one. Elijah.

You picked up the book you had left there from the night before and sat. The pages stuck together, but that was its age. “You’re missing out on this one, Elijah. Klaus always told you it was a good read.”

And you started to read, Hope’s picture on your lap as you were reminded of her father, voice catching as you tried not to cry.

Wages earned and lessons learned But I, I'm right where you left me

Two years.

Two years without him. Hope had just turned four, her artistic ability improving as she had gotten better at staying in the lines. The question she asked you still echoed in your ears, your heart hurting as you answered it with a smile. “Do you think Daddy will like this when he comes home, Auntie Y/N?”

When he comes home. Her innocent hopefulness kept you sane most days.

You had gotten a job now, a waitress in a restaurant downtown where no-one knew your name or who your family was. It was something to get you out of the house, to keep your mind off the thought of Klaus going through hell. At first, it had been great, but then your boss had put you on night shifts, and that was when the undesirables came out to play.

You hung your coat up before making your way up to the attic, the ghost of that man’s hands still making you cringe. It wasn’t the first time someone had shown more than an interest in you, but you had always had someone to help you escape.

You walked over to her coffin and sat. You put your hand on the lid, and sighed. “Hey, Bex. Could have used you today.” Rebekah was always the one to get you out of those sorts of situations, usually with a threatening comment. “Klaus would have lost his mind.”

Klaus, always the jealous type, would have run to avenge you. You had always moaned about it, but this time, you realised you missed it.

Missed him.

Help, I'm still at the restaurant Still sitting in a corner I haunt Cross-legged in the dim light

Three years.

Three years without him. Hope was five now, and had moved from colouring in to painting. You had bought her a set of block paints for her birthday and were more than happy to watch her paint flowers with five red petals and a yellow centre, green stalks leading down to two leaves at the bottom. More often than not, she ended up with more of it on her hands than on the paper, and she liked to make you laugh by painting your cheeks with it.

To make you smile for when Daddy comes home, she would say, your heart breaking.

You had quit your job after one too many handsy customers. You were just happy to be the woman in the corner of the restaurant, staring at a whiskey, passers-by telling you to cheer up because it might never happen.

You stumbled home after such an occurrence, alcohol slurring your movements. They were right, you needed some fun, but the only person you could think of having such fun with was lying in a coffin. Up in the attic again, you made your way over to where Kol Mikaelson rested, perhaps in more danger than any of his siblings.

“Don’t you die on me, you git.” You patted the lid of the coffin, the familiar nickname rolling off your tongue. “I need someone to get into trouble with.” You chuckled, remembering. “Someone else for Klaus to shout at.”

Klaus, whose shouts had been turned into agonising screams.

They say, "What a sad sight" I, I swear you could hear a hair pin drop Right when I felt the moment stop

Four years.

Four years without him. Hope was a lively six-year-old now, and her artistic skills had improved greatly. Actual pictures were created now, an ability to rival anyone of her age, maybe even her father one day. But you still held onto that first coloured-in picture, keeping it safe to show to Klaus when he came home.

When. You tried to hold onto Hope’s optimism, but it had been four years now and you were finding it difficult. You still held onto your spot in the corner of the restaurant, watching customers look at you with pity in their eyes. The worst was the recently engaged couple, the woman’s hair pinned up to make her look like a film star.

Once, you had got ready for parties and made an effort to look like that. But, you’d always had help from a friend, a sister really. Of course, that witch was now sleeping with her siblings.

You sat by Freya’s coffin, cross-legged, and laid your head on the lid. “You would have loved her dress, Freya. She walked in and it was like everything just stopped. You remember when people used to look at us like that?” You smiled, remembering your entrances to such parties. “But all I ever cared about was Klaus.”

He would take your arm and lead you to the dance floor, laughing as you tried not to step on his toes.

You had never wanted to dance more.

Glass shattered on the white cloth Everybody moved on, I, I stayed there Dust collected on my pinned-up hair

Five years.

Five years without him. Hope was now seven, a fact that didn’t seem possible. You looked at her in the garden, her little easel set up as she painted, the sun shining down on her. You took a sip of your water, having moved away from alcohol at Hayley’s request. When Klaus came home, he wouldn’t want the love of his life to be a drunken mess, and Hope certainly didn’t want that of her auntie.

When. It seemed like such a useless word. The world was changing before your eyes, and you were still here, waiting for something that would probably never happen. Hayley told you to keep the faith, but it was getting harder and harder with each day that passed. Speaking of, the hybrid walked over and took a seat next to you.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” You continued to sip at your drink, looking at Hope.

“Look at me.” You turned to face Hayley, a smile playing on her lips. Her next words made you drop the glass you were holding, fragments scattering over the white tablecloth. But neither of you cared as the dust that had gathered on you as a result of waiting blew away.

“Y/N, it’s time.”

Time to get your family back. Time to get him back. Time for Klaus to come home.

They expected me to find somewhere Some perspective, but I sat and stared

Five years and two days.

Five years and two days without him. Hope was excited to see her father, as were you. You had volunteered to stay and look after her while Hayley went to save the day. She had looked surprised when you suggested such a thing, but understood when you told her that you weren’t quite sure if you could face Klaus in that state, his screams from five years ago still waking you up in the night.

You sat on the sofa, staring into space, waiting and wondering. A small figure curling up next to you snapped you out of your thoughts. Hope. She should have been in bed, and you told her as much. She shook her head, and you knew she couldn’t sleep. Holding her hand tight, you led her back to her room. And that was when she asked.

“Tell me something about Dad.”

You smiled, knowing the perfect place to start. The story of how you met him, of how you had fallen in love with him, about how he was kind and gentle, fierce and protective when he needed to be. It wasn’t long before Hope had fallen asleep and you moved away as so not to wake her.

Then the headlights glared through the window.

Then, as Klaus had told you five years and two days ago, you ran.

Only this time, it wasn’t away from him.

Right where you left me You left me no, you left me no You left me no choice but to stay here forever

Five years, two days and three minutes.

Five years, two days and three minutes without him. Hope was fast asleep, but you didn’t care if you woke her when you opened the front door with such force, it hit the wall. You didn’t care when you saw them. Elijah, your reading partner. Rebekah, your wing-woman. Kol, your partner in crime. Freya, your dearest friend.

And then-

Klaus. He hadn’t noticed you yet, talking to his siblings. But when he turned, the smile in his lips transforming into a look of shock, everything stopped. You felt your heart heal itself when he walked towards you, disbelief in every step. “Hello.”

“Hi, Klaus.”

“You stayed?” You smiled, knowing that Klaus had always believed he didn’t deserve you, probably thought you would take his absence as an opportunity to move on.

“You kind of didn’t give me a choice.” You shrugged nonchalantly, earning a confused look from him. “I love you, you idiot.”

And then that shock turned back into a smile, a grin that stretched for miles. “And I you, Y/N.”

Five years, two days and three minutes.

You would never go that long without Klaus Mikaelson by your side again. You would make sure of that.

Masterlist

Evermore Masterlist

#TVD #tvd imagine #tvd imagines #the vampire diaries #to #the originals #the originals imagine #the originals imagines #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson imagines #klaus mikaelson x reader #niklaus mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson imagines #niklaus mikaelson imagine #niklaus mikaelson x reader #Joseph Morgan

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jaskiersvalley · 3 years

Text

CW: Past child death.

Meeting Cahir had been quite accidental but it was something neither Lambert nor Eskel regretted in the slightest. They were at a party, not quite sure whose though, there were a lot of people there. The invitation had come from Yennefer who'd heard about it from Fringilla who was friends with Letho. It was possibly Letho's birthday but it didn't much matter in a way. A party was a party, that particular one was quite rambunctious, enough so that Lambert and Eskel needed a quick breather. What better way to get away from the noise than to discover Gaetan had brought his husky along and was chilling in the kitchen with someone else. That someone turned out to be Cahir who wasn't really much for parties but had lost a bet against Letho so had to come along and at least pretend to be sociable for a little while.

The first meeting turned into a second and a third hangout session. Over the course of spending time together, Lambert and Eskel learned so much about Cahir yet nothing at all. He didn't drive, had an old as the earth mobile that was near enough indestructible. Technology as a whole seemed to be something Cahir didn't seek out. He worked as an accountant, still preferring to use pen and paper for most situations rather than the computer programs favoured by most accountants. Oddly, it made him quite popular so he had no shortage of clients. However, aside from that all the two knew of Cahir was how he took his coffee (black, four sugars), that he had a preference for sweet things over savoury and that he lived in a house at the edge of town.

As time went on the meeting up became dates which turned into Cahir going over for dinner. Eventually it became Cahir going over for lazy making out session. All too soon Lambert and Eskel knew exactly what Cahir sounded like in bed and also how best to draw those sweet noises from him.

It was all well and good but it felt like Cahir was holding something back, shying away from inviting Lambert and Eskel back to his home. In a way it felt like Cahir keeping them at an arm's length and it hurt. But neither Lambert nor Eskel were very good at words, they didn't know how to ask without it either sounding like they were angry or disappointed. In the end they didn't have to ask. They'd had rough plans to meet up in the evening, Cahir going over to theirs again to probably spend the night in a tangle of limbs. However, he called to say that he couldn't book a taxi because there was some event or other on in town so everyone was already full. Almost shyly, he tacked on, "If you don't mind a bit of a mess, you could come over."

Which was how Lambert and Eskel finally knew his address and eagerly made their way across town, curious to see Cahir's home. Weirdly it was quite anticlimactic. There was nothing strange or unusual about Cahir's home. The tour of the bungalow was quite boring.

"Shoes and coats can be left here." Cahir pointed to the hooks in the hallway. "Bathroom's through that door. That's the kitchen and diner, living room. Door on the left is the bedroom the right it's the spare room." Most doors they could peer through except the spare room, that one Cahir very deliberately didn't open.

"What did you end up doing with the spare room?" Lambert asked curiously.

Sheepish, Cahir ushered them away from the door to the room in question. "What pretty much everyone I know does with a spare room. Filled it up with things."

Not a very satisfactory answer but Lambert let it drop. They had a wonderful evening together, all thoughts of the mysterious spare room gone from his mind. It wasn't the last time Lambert and Eskel visited. In fact, now that they had been once, Cahir seemed to be a bit more brave about inviting them over. Always keen to see their boyfriend, they went whenever invited, even if sometimes weird things seemed to happen in the house. Lambert thought it was some kind of weird practical joke. He knew Cahir had an odd sense of humour from time to time. So finding all the cupboard doors in the kitchen wide open one morning was chalked up to their boyfriend trying to be playful. It didn't stop there though. They stayed over enough times that they ended up with toothbrushes by the sink, a few changes of clothes in the wardrobe and their favourite snacks in the fridge. However, sometimes Eskel would find his clothes and toothbrush near the door. Which was odd because he didn't wake up to either Cahir or Lambert leaving the bed at night which was something he usually would do.

The other strange thing was that, despite being repeatedly told that the spare room wasn't exciting at all, Cahir sure seemed to spend a fair amount of time in there, sometimes even talking by the sounds of it, maybe even singing on one occasion. But it was brushed off. So Lambert and Eskel ignored the odd little things that happened around Cahir's house, misplacing phones, keys and remotes seemed to be the norm. His kitchen doors seemed determined to open at inopportune times despite there being magnets to hold them in place.

"Maybe he's got a lodger?" The various ideas Lambert and Eskel had were starting to get a little more outlandish as time went on.

Eskel shook his head. "I still think a secret child. It would explain the little girl's laughter I swear I heard."

"And the music box playing randomly on his mantlepiece in the middle of the night."

They had no firm ideas about what Cahir could be hiding or why but they agreed it wasn't worth the risk of barging into the spare room to find answers for themselves. If their boyfriend wanted to have his secrets, he was entitled to them.

Answers had a way of coming about in the least expected of ways. The phone call from Geralt was a surprising start.

"We fucked up." He sounded beyond tired and stressed. "Could you come over?"

Of course Lambert and Eskel hopped in the car and race round. Geralt was a lifelong friend and he'd had so much shit thrown at him throughout the years. The worst was probably the death of his and Yennefer's daughter, Ciri. They had taken it hard, quite understandably. She had been the light of their lives, cruelly taken at the age of five. It just wasn't fair. Arriving at their house, Lambert and Eskel knocked. An exhausted looking Yennefer opened the door.

The house was a tip, like a small hurricane had gone through it, things strewn on the ground, broken and ruined. In the living room Geralt sat on the sofa, head in his hands, looking no better than Yennefer.

"What the fuck happened?" Lambert was never one to beat around the bush.

Sad eyes turned to him as Geralt looked up. "We just missed her so much."

Which was no explanation until Geralt gestured to the bookshelf. There sat a doll, like a miniature version of Ciri, obviously custom made.

"You got a doll?"

"She's haunting us." Matter of fact, Yennefer didn't mince her words. "We couldn't let her go and now she won't leave."

Scoffing, Lambert shook his head. He'd heard of many stupid things, knew that Yennefer had frequently explored some occult things but this was taking it too far. A haunted doll? Ridiculous. Even more stupid to think that it was Ciri. Even if the mess left behind did look like one of her more infamous temper tantrums.

"It's okay," Geralt said. "Someone's coming to look at the doll, possibly to buy it."

That was something Lambert had to see, who in their right mind would buy an allegedly haunted doll? He settled on the sofa with Eskel and they took in the destruction around the room. It was quite extensive, whatever Geralt and Yennefer had done, it was a thoroughly done job. They didn't have to wait long before the doorbell went. Yennefer went to answer and an oddly familiar voice struck up conversation with her. Sure enough, Cahir rounded the door in Yennefer's wake. He froze when he saw Lambert and Eskel.

"Is this a joke?" he asked, taking a step back.

At the same time Eskel asked, "Cahir, what are you doing here?"

An awkward silence descended on the room until Geralt cleared his throat. "You still want the doll?"

Hesitant, Cahir cast Lambert and Eskel a glance, cheeks rapidly flushing. However, he gave a tight nod at Geralt's question. Immediately Yennefer was handing the doll over and Cahir looked at it with a small frown. His eyes looked a little unfocused for a moment before he smiled.

"Hello Ciri," he murmured.

"How the fuck did you know her name?" Yennefer growled. "Did you search for us before you came here? Look up the tragedy of our lives just to play some sick game?"

Cahir held a hand up to placate, eyes wide. "No! The doll's haunted, like you said. She's been struggling to let go for some reason." At that Yennefer looked guilty. Thankfully, Cahir didn't let her dwell on it, "I'm happy to take her off your hands. She won't cause you any more trouble."

A frankly ridiculous amount of cash was passed over for what was a porcelain doll that looked somewhat like Ciri. Lambert wanted to ridicule and mock but somehow couldn't find it in himself, too stunned by this revelation.

"Did you get a taxi here?" Eskel asked in the end and Cahir nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. "We'll give you a lift home."

It was obvious that Cahir thought he was going to be interrogated and maybe even dumped. His shoulders sagged, even as he held the doll in one arm like it was a baby.

"Thank you," he murmured. Goodbyes were exchanged with Geralt and Yennefer before they trooped out of the house and piled into the car.

Silence stretched for more than half the ride until Lambert couldn't contain himself anymore. "So, haunted dolls?" When Cahir didn't reply with anything other than a shrug, Lambert pressed on. "What do you get out of them? Is it a weird fetish?"

At least that drew a look of offended horror to Cahir's face. "No! They just need some love, space and understanding. Most people don't care for them properly, so someone needs to."

Which was weird as hell, if Lambert had to give an opinion. Dolls, haunted or not, were still dolls that could be played with or disfigured or binned as the owner saw fit. The haunted aspect was something only idiots tended to believe. And his boyfriend. But it was best not to think about it.

"You might as well come in," Cahir said softly when they pulled up outside his home.

Finally, Lambert and Eskel were allowed into the spare room. Despite their expectations and theories, nothing could compare to the reality. The walls were lined with shelves, on them sat who knew how many dolls, each one with a little card next to it with a name, date and a few notes such as "doesn't like biscuits" and "needs daily brushing".

"What the-?!" Lambert stared, Eskel was similarly astounded.

Looking at them, Cahir shrugged. "As I said, someone needs to care for them as needed."

The door slammed shut to the room, making Lambert jump. Cahir only chuffed out a soft laugh and settled the Ciri doll on a gap in the shelf. He pulled a card and pen from the draw, jotting down the name and date. As the card was put next to the doll, Cahir quietly spoke. "You'll be welcome here, Isobel is your neighbour, she'll help you get settled in."

A saucer crashed to the ground, the plastic clattering. Clicking his tongue in displeasure, Cahir only moved to pick it up. "Honestly, Dara. That's no way to greet a new arrival. We'll be out of your space soon. But Lambert and Eskel wanted to meet you all."

An exaggeration by far but the warning glance Cahir shot them stilled Lambert's tongue. Even if he thought this was all a crock of shit, there was no denying that Cahir took it seriously. Given the way Eskel was staring around, he was having doubts as well. Leaving the room, they settled in the kitchen while Cahir boiled some water for a tea.

"Do you really think they're haunted?" Eskel finally asked, incredulous.

"Yes." Cahir shrugged. "Not all dolls are haunted, some people just say they are for the wow and the money factor. But I don't take those, they don't need me."

"How can you tell which ones are haunted?"

With great simplicity, Cahir said, "I see them."

Which was beyond any rational argument but Lambert didn't know how to refute it without it descending into name calling. In the end, he let out a long breath through his nose and pinched the bridge of it.

"Okay." It was easier than arguing. "I'm glad you have such conviction in your beliefs."

Right on cue the television came on without anyone near it. It cycled through the channels before turning off again. There was an indulgent look on Cahir's face.

"Sometimes Sasha likes to explore."

Determined to prove him wrong, Lambert vowed to check the wirings in the whole house and have a long look at the TV. And fix the cupboard doors so they didn't pop open anymore. And install cameras to prove that the clothes, toothbrushes, and shoes moving around was either done purposefully or through sleep walking. In the end, Lambert didn't know what was worse, that he found nothing wrong with the TV, the cupboard doors were beyond fixing and there was nothing wrong with the wiring or the TV. Or that Cahir gave him a knowing look before his eyes seemed to go a little unfocused and to the left of Lambert before the sound of a child's laughter rang through the air.

#lambert/eskel/cahir #lambert/eskel #lambskel #lambert #eskel #cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #modern au #haunted dolls au #cw: past child death #tldr: cahir has a secret hobby

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purpletaecup · 4 years

Photo

7 ☾ i loved you. i’m sorry.

warnings: depictions of panic attacks

notes: writing the end of this chapter made me cry t^t luv u guys, thank you for the support. i love writing this story so much! feel free to send an ask to the IFU universe characters or vent to me about them! also, there is a picture in here that i drew!!!! it’s not that great but I hope you guys like it :-)

word count: 4,471

“Who are you?”

Those words echo in Yoongi’s ear as if it was his final judgment from the king of hell. He staggered but held onto the edge of your hospital bed to keep from falling. He could only look at you in shock and silence while the doctor came up from behind him and examined you.

“Miss Kim, how are you feeling? Is there any pain?” The doctor asked.

You rubbed and blinked a couple of times. Everything was still a little blurry.

“M’head hurts and my body is so sore,” you reply. “Why am I here?”

“What’s the last thing you remember, Miss Kim?”

Rubbing your temples, you groaned in frustration, not remembering how you ended up in this hospital bed.

“I can’t remember. Everything’s really fuzzy right now.”

The doctor turns to Yoongi, who sat himself down on the chair further away from you.

“Do you recognize him?”

You looked at the man in the chair and examined him for a while. There’s a chill that runs through Yoongi’s body as he sees your eyes roam him from head to toe. He almost expects to see some kind of anger or resentment on your face, but receives nothing but confusion.

You turn back to the doctor shaking your head. He opens his mouth to say something but Yoongi beats him to it.

“It’s okay, doc, we can talk about that later, but is she okay? You said your head was hurting, right, Yn?” He says, looking back at you.

Cautiously, you nod at him before looking at the doctor again.

“It’s throbbing and it feels like there’s drums banging in my head.”

“This is all completely normal. You were in a pretty severe car accident and received a pretty worrisome head injury. You were unconscious for about five days, so your body has already started its healing process. In the coming weeks, you might experience some delayed symptoms related to the concussion you received.”

“What kind of symptoms? Is she going to be okay?” Though shocked as he was with your current predicament, Yoongi couldn’t help but worry even more.

“Mr. Min, if you would just let me continue, I can give you and Miss Yn all the answers you need. Because of the nature of the accident, she received a pretty bad head injury resulting in a concussion I believe to be grade II or III.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked.

“It’s just a way to classify the severity of the concussion you received. Since you were in a car accident, you sustained a lot of other injuries but nothing too severe like broken bones. Miraculously enough, you managed to be wheeled away with only lacerations, bruising and a head injury. You were unconscious for about five days and you’re exhibiting signs of amnesia along with blurriness and headaches. These are all signs of a grade II or III concussion, though we won’t know which one until after a few more days of monitoring. Either way, there is the possibility of delayed symptoms like headaches, nausea and imbalance. After we’ve monitored your brain activity and symptoms for a few days, we can determine the grade of concussion clearly and proceed with treatment if needed. I’m leaning a bit more towards a grade II because you’re still able to speak and understand in a normal manner, but the memory loss is worrisome so we’ll have to monitor that and see if it lasts for over 24 hours or not.”

You groaned and tried to sit up straighter, but your muscles, so sore and unused for days, were making it difficult. Yoongi, who had inched closer and closer to you while the doctor spoke, held your hand in one of his while the other helped push you to sit up more comfortably. You murmur a soft thanks in his direction.

“I still don’t understand. You’re saying that I have amnesia, but I feel like I remember everything I should. I know my name, my parent’s names, my friends and my family’s names.” You begin to explain, not really understanding the whole ‘amnesia’ thing.

“How old are you? And what year is it?” The doctor asked while scribbling on your chart.

“19, and it’s 2016.” As soon as those words came out of your mouth, Yoongi fell into a quiet shock once again. Not only had you not recognized him, he was completely erased from your memory. You two met when you were 19, and in your head, you were 19 and you had no idea who he was, so your memory must have conveniently stopped sometime before you met him. He almost scoffs at the irony of it all.

“Miss Kim, you’re 23. You just turned 23 two months ago and it’s currently 2020. Today is the eleventh of November.”

The gasp leaves your mouth before you realize it. Your shaky hands lift up to cover your mouth and you feel tears well up in your eyes from the impact of the doctor’s statement.

“What do you mean? How can I just lose four years in my memory?” Your voice cracks when you ask and through the tears and the shaky breaths, you feel the ghost of a hand on your back.

“That, we don’t know. We haven’t seen an amnesia case this severe in decades, but that’s why we’re going to be monitoring you. Amnesia in head injury patients is pretty unpredictable, but most people who experience amnesia usually only lose memories within the day or at most a week, but it usually never lasts for more than a couple of days. You losing four years of memories doesn’t essentially correlate to how long it will take to regain those memories. For all we know, you could get them back tonight, but like I said, it’s pretty unpredictable.”

It takes a moment for all of it to sink in and absorb. Okay, so you lost four years of memories, but you might regain them soon. Although it’s not a guarantee, it’s still a possibility. You wipe the tears and you steady your breath before turning to the doctor once again.

“What’s he got to do with all of this? I still don’t know who he is or why he’s here.” You ask while pointing to the man beside you.

The doctor looks at you, then looks at him as if expecting him to take the floor and explain things himself.

“I’m Min Yoongi.” He holds out his hand intending you shake yours. You lift your wired up hand to his and he encloses it gently. It’s warm.

“Okay, Min Yoongi, that doesn’t explain how I’m supposed to know you?” You question again, a little bit of attitude in your voice.

It’s silent for a moment. Sensing the tension, the doctor excuses himself, telling them that he’ll send some nurses to help with your headaches and soreness.

Yoongi’s grip tightens on your hand. He contemplates for a little while about how to explain who he was in your life and who you were in his. Can he say that you’re his wife? Will that make it easier for the both of you since you were pregnant? But that was a lie, because you were divorced.

And he had lied to you enough times during your marriage. He thinks it might be the time to be more truthful.

“We were together for four years.” He starts. You wriggle your hand out of his, feeling a little too warm.

“Ah, if we were together for four years, how come I don’t remember you?”

Yoongi thinks about how to answer this one. He hums for a couple of seconds before he asks, “well, in your head, when did you turn 19?”

It was your turn to let a “hmm” pass your lips this time.

“Last week!”

“Okay, so in your timeline, we would have met next week. Two weeks after your birthday, on September 24.”

You nod your head in understanding, but you wince pretty obviously right after. The bruises are aching and you think it’s because you sat up for too long. Yoongi puts his hand on your arm and guides you to lay down.

“Here, just lay down and I’ll sit right here and answer your questions, okay?” He reassures.

After laying down, you try to move your body to the side so you could face where he was sitting.

“So how come you’re here and not my family members?” You asked after a minute’s silence, trying to think of a question to ask. If baffled you that this man you don’t even remember is the only one visiting you in broad daylight after a severe car accident.

“Jin was here with me the day of your accident. He said he was going to take care of you, but he got called in for work and had to travel out of the country a couple of days ago.”

“What about my mom?”

“Actually, I’m not really sure. Jin told me that she was abroad.”

“So you’re the only one left. Must be important if you were in my emergency contacts.”

“I was the only emergency contact you had according to the nurses.”

At this moment, Yoongi looked at you with sad eyes, but you didn’t know why. It felt like it was penetrating you and a nagging voice in the back of your head told you to stop looking at him.

Eager to ease the tension, you ask how the two of you met. Yoongi rests his elbow on the arm rest of the chair, plopping his chin down on his palm.

“Well, I had a music video shoot on the same day as yours. You were doing a photoshoot, I think, and you were using the same set room as me. I went there early to talk to the directors, but you were in the middle of your shoot and I just stayed. I asked my manager to ask for your number and we started talking and then I asked you to be my girlfriend on Halloween at a costume party.” There was a smile on Yoongi’s face when he recalled that particular memory.

He had no recollection of whose party it was, but you two showed up in the best costumes you could muster. Lydia Deetz in her wedding dress and Beetlejuice. The party was fun and the two of you had spent the night in the garden of the venue, just laying down and admiring the stars on Halloween night. It was nearing midnight when the both of you heard a countdown coming from inside. Why there was a countdown for midnight on Halloween, neither of you had a clue, but he took it as a sign and as the grandfather clock chimed, he gave you a gentle kiss and asked (whispered) you to be his girlfriend.

He remembered your laughter from that night and it brought an even larger smile to his face.

You looked at him in awe, thinking his smile was simply breathtaking.

“So you fell in love with me at first sight, huh?” You asked teasingly.

Yoongi glared at you, but as soon as he spotted your little smirk, the glare melted away and a hesitant smile made its way on his face again.

“For your information, it was at first laugh.” He simply stated. At that, you gave a gentle smile and a quiet giggle into your hand.

In that moment, Yoongi was taken back to the early days of your relationship. The appearance of that gentle smile had catapulted him back to the happier days of your story. It was so different from you in the recent months. You, who had been so sad and exhausted and frustrated. Though pale and bruised and in a hospital bed, you looked much more youthful than before, as if you had reverted back to the person that was happiness personified.

“Right, okay. At first laugh. Never heard that before.”

“I’m serious. It was like hearing bells.”

“That doesn’t sound very appealing.”

“Good bells.”

You laughed again, a little scratchy this time. Yoongi handed you the glass of water on your bedside table.

“Okay, so you fell in love with me at first laugh, then what happened?” You asked, eager to find out about this story. At the moment, you really had no inkling of who this man was, but it intrigued you to hear your apparent love story. You loved a good love story and this one, yours, seemed to have a good start. Because you couldn’t recall it, hearing it from his mouth is like looking into your own love story from an outsider’s point of view.

Yoongi took the glass of water and placed it back on the table.

“Well, we got together obviously, and we were together for four years.”

“Past tense, so you’re an ex-boyfriend?” This was getting more interesting. You have always associated exes with heartbreak (at least the ones you remembered), so this was interesting. You must have been good friends after the breakup for him to be your emergency contact.

“Ex-husband, actually.”

Oh.

That stopped you in your tracks. Now, divorce was something you had never, ever thought about. Mentally, you were 19, and at 19, you were worried about your career. You had suffered your fair share of heartbreaks and cheating bastards in high school and swore off marriage until you got yourself together, so this revelation confused you a little bit. You two met when you were 19, but here you are at, apparently, 23 years old and you’re divorced. That’s actually… unbelievable.

“We started dating on Halloween technically, but I proposed in July and that’s when we agreed to celebrate our anniversaries even though that sounds kind of silly. You thought it would be cute to just have one single date to celebrate our anniversary. Something about Halloween being sacred to you.” Yoongi laughed a little nervously, eager to soften the mood just a little bit. He knows you don’t really remember, but it still feels strange to talk about your divorce.

“Wait, so break this down for me a little bit more. How long were we married for?”

“2 years. So I proposed the July after we started dating and then we got married a year later on the same date.”

“And when did we get divorced?”

Yoongi fiddled with his fingers a bit before answering, “ The end of September. We were drifting for some months already, so I think divorce was the best option for us.”

You nodded absentmindedly. It was a little strange to be here, in a hospital bed, listening to this man (who is apparently your ex-husband) talk about your divorce. You felt like you should be feeling something more than this, but all you can feel is some kind of nonchalance, like you were listening to a lecture on a subject you didn’t like. Still, this was your love life, something you treasured with all of your heart, and the news of this divorce with a man you can’t even remember is shocking but in a detached way, if that made sense.

“That makes sense. No one should stay in a marriage where the feelings aren’t there anymore.” You say slowly, silently, absorbing this whole situation.

From your peripheral, you see Yoongi just nod, not saying anything. The silence that befell the two of you was somewhat comfortable but solemn at the same time.

The silence was interrupted by murmurs coming from Yoongi.

“Don’t worry. Even though we’re not together, I’ll still take care of you. You don’t have any immediate family and I’m the only one you really know in this city. The least I can do is take care of you.”

You look at him and shake your head. The independent part of you wanted to deny that. Even though you were mentally 19, in actuality you were 23 and you knew how to take care of yourself.

“It’s fine, Yoongi. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.”

That silences Yoongi for a bit. He remembers you saying that all the time, moreso during the time you decided to quit modelling. He was worried about you, but you always reassured him that there was nothing to worry about. You were a big girl. A woman. When these words came out of your mouth, it reminded him that although you didn’t remember much, you were still the woman he knew deep down.

Before he gets lost in his thoughts again, he lets out a small laugh.

“Yeah, I know you can, but you don’t even know where you live. Do you even remember how to drive? I remember you learned how to drive when you were 21.”

You furrow your brows, angry at his statements, but decide that you can’t refute since what he’s saying is completely true.

“Okay, valid. You can go home if you want, though. They said they were gonna keep me here for a couple of days, so you don’t have to come to the hospital until then, I guess. You look kind of rich… and famous, so you must be busy all the time.”

“I’m my own boss, so I can take my own time off, but I do need to go to the company to settle some things before you get discharged.”

As he talked, your eyes become droopy and were slow to blink.

“Yn, are you okay?” Yoongi asks as he moves closer to your face to examine you. Instinctively, you move back a little, but you’re still close enough to see his eyes up close. You decide to close your eyes.

You mumble a little. “Mhm, just sleepy. Head still hurts.”

Yoongi pulls the blanket up to cover up to your neck and fixes your hair so that it’s not in your face. The intimacy is strange, but not unwelcome, you think.

“Kay, just go back to sleep. I’ll go talk to your doctor then I’m going to the company, okay? I’ll be back tomorrow to give you some of your necessities.” He whispers.

You could barely hear him, but you nod anyways. The disappearance of his warm hand left a cold, empty feeling. Soon enough, you drifted off into sleep.

☽

Yoongi takes one last look at your sleepy form before he quietly leaves the room. He sees your doctor from the corner of his eye and walks up to him. Before he could ask anything, the doctor tells him that they have the results from a scan taken the day prior.

“There seems to be no traumatic damage to the brain, so we have high hopes about a smooth journey to recovery. Of course, she is pregnant, so that might make things a bit more delicate, but nothing that is too difficult to adjust to. She’s right in the middle of her first trimester, so you both really need to be careful. It’s already a miracle that the fetus survived. The rest is up to you guys.”

“And what about the amnesia?”

“We’re still confused about the memory loss. As I mentioned before, the last case of amnesia that was that severe was such a long time ago, and there was no explanation or pattern that was found in the brain to justify the timeline of the memory loss. 4 years is a really long time. We believe she might be more sensitive due to having such a huge gap in her memory. We don’t know what could trigger memories or how she would react to them, but you and the rest of her family should come up with things or events to stimulate her brain activity and remind her of some of the memories that she lost.”

“That sounds reasonable. I don’t want to overwhelm her too much, so I held back a lot when I was talking to her today. If it’s possible, can we hold off on telling her about her pregnancy? At least until I come back and I can tell her myself. I tried to take the day off today, but I have to deal with the company first so I can be here when she’s discharged.” Yoongi explained.

The doctor looked nervous at first, but thought about it for a while.

“Yes, I think that might be for the best. Waking up in an unfamiliar place with no memories of the past four years can be very overwhelming so it might be easier to ease her into the news. Thank you Mr. Min, we’ll call you when there’s news.” The doctor says before holding his hand out for a handshake.

Yoongi let out a small smile as he shook the doctor’s hand.

“Yes, please let me know if anything happens and if her situation changes. I’ll be back tomorrow to drop off a new cellphone for her so it’s easier to contact people. I’ll see you then, doc. Thank you so much for your hard work.” Yoongi couldn’t help but praise him for being such a helpful person during a difficult time for both him and you.

“It’s no problem at all, Mr. Min. It makes me happy to see how devoted you are in taking care of your wife and future child.” The doctor smiles at him and pats his shoulder roughly before he walks away whistling.

Yoongi only stared at his back as he walked away from him. Devotion. That wasn’t something he was used to.

☽

He’d gone home that night and contemplated the strange encounter that you both had today. The initial shock he received when realizing that you couldn’t recognize him, worse yet remember him, was swept away quickly by your questions about your relationship with him. As the night ended and he tucked himself into his bed, he couldn’t stop thinking about your conversation today.

It was the most civil conversation you’ve had since before the divorce. It was basically the only conversation you’ve had since the divorce. The more he thought about it, the more he zoned out of the reality in front of it. He thought about your teasing smile when you asked if he fell in love with you at first sight. He thought about your laugh, like bells, when he corrected you and said it was love at first laugh. It was like the fates turned back time to when you two first met. It was like he was seeing you for the first time again.

The you from today was such a stark contrast from the you that Yoongi had lived with in the months leading up to your divorce. Being reminded of what you were like back then and comparing it to the person you turned into after 4 years together made his heart beat faster. He didn’t know what it was but thinking about how you changed, how you grew, made him nervous. These weren’t fluffy feelings of romance or admiration. It seemed to be more like fear. He looked down at his hands and realized that they were shaking. As the shaking continued, he noticed his breathing getting shorter and shorter. He didn’t know what was happening but having these thoughts made him feel so scared.

The tears escaped his eyes before he even realized he was crying. He had never experienced this before. His heart was beating so fast and he couldn’t stop shaking or crying but all he could focus on was your soft smile today and every time he saw it in his head, it crumbled into the 23 year old you who sobbed into her hands in front of him. He just kept thinking and thinking and thinking and it made him cry into his palms more and more. Behind his closed eyes were images of the two of you through the years and the way you had changed from a beautiful, happy person who could probably make the sun and all the planets stop into a sad, quiet, reserved woman who preferred to stay at home and be alone with your paper and your words.

Did he do that? Did he do that to you? Did he make you that sad? Was it his fault that you pulled away from him? Was it his fault that you two fell apart as catastrophically as you fell in love? Was he the reason for your accident?

No, no, no, no. He cried and cried and couldn’t breathe. I didn’t do that, I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t mean to do that. I loved you. I loved you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

At the same time, you woke up in your hospital bed, shocked by a nightmare that eventually dulled and became forgotten as soon as you woke. You felt like there was something important that the dream told you, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Instead of trying to remember, you looked up at the ceiling of your hospital room and contemplated on your strange encounter with your so-called ex-husband today. Mentions of the divorce were vague, so you didn’t focus on it much. He told you a love story that you wouldn’t have believed if you hadn’t lost your memories. You smiled as you remembered that way he told you he fell in love at first laugh. There was a twinkle in his eye when he said that, but you still noticed a twinge of sadness and regret behind it all.

“For your information, it was at first laugh.”

You closed your eyes and tried so hard to remember anything, just the smallest thing, to confirm whatever Yoongi had told you, but nothing came to you except for a barrage of tears that was so sudden it shocked you. You tried to stop crying, but you couldn’t. You tried to laugh but it only ended in broken sobs. There was a hurt in your chest that you couldn’t precisely describe. It was sharp, and it hurt your heart, like it was breaking little by little. It wasn’t happiness. Not at all. It felt like a sadness that you hadn’t ever felt before (or at least your 19 year old self), but you couldn’t possibly remember why you felt like this. The tears kept coming and coming and it frustrated you so much that you didn’t know why you were crying like this. You just wanted to remember something about your marriage, your relationship, and Min Yoongi. You couldn’t understand why you were feeling like this.

Of course, though the memory is lost, the hurt and sorrow that your heart had gone through couldn’t be forgotten. At least not by your body. It was a sadness so deep in your bones that not even the loss of the memories associated with this hurt could erase it.

☽

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rjhpandapaws · 3 years

Note

Canon hankcon, "birthday" for the prompt, and that's all I'm giving you lmao. Whose birthday? Party or no acknowledgement? Homemade cake with haphazard candles or storebought fancy pants cake? How many birthday kisses from Sumo? I dunno you tell me.

//:3

It wasn’t any particular news that Hank didn’t enjoy his birthday much anymore. It might have been the grief but he had a hard time remembering a time before Cole when he did. It was old news to everyone it seemed except Connor who was waiting by his desk the morning of with a box in his hands. “Connor, what is that?” He asked as he moved to sit at his desk. “It’s a birthday present Hank.” Connor set the small box on his desk, “Isn’t it a human custom to celebrate them?” Hank bit off the annoyed sigh and reminded himself that Connor didn’t know better, “Most people do. When you’re young making it another year is kind of a big deal, but when you get to my age its just a reminder of how many opportunities you’ve missed.” Connor fell onto red for a moment and Hank regretted his words, “Do you want me to take it back?” His LED flickered as he did something in that head of his. “No.” Hank shook his head, “I appreciate it Connor, it was just a surprise. I’m not used to people caring after I spent years asking them not to.” Connor narrowed his eyes as he moved to sit as his desk, “I know now, so it won’t happen again.” This time Hank sighed, “Connor, its okay, I promise.” Connor still didn’t believe him from the looks of it, and Hank hated that he was right. He knew Connor meant well, but they were dancing around an unknown something and every time Connor would do something like this it reminded Hank that the android could do so much better. When he finally climbed out of his own head Hank noticed Connor had gotten to work. His LED was yellow which meant he was thinking about something too, but Hank didn’t have the nerve to ask. He looked down at the small precisely wrapped box and what it was that Connor had decided was worth getting him.

He opened the box as quietly as he could, he didn’t want to pull Connor out of his focus, the brunette hated that. The last thing he expected was concert tickets, they were rested on top of a neatly folded t-shirt. The tickets were for a holographic performance by Frank Sinatra. He set them aside and took out the t-shirt and found it was a signed Knight of The Black Death shirt, it was from one of their older tours and had only been up for bid. He didn’t know how Connor had found it or how much he had paid for it but he knew neither of them had been cheap. “Connor.” He said firmly. Connor came back to himself and tilted his head in question, “You know birthday gifts are supposed to be simple right?” “Yes.” Connor responded, “But they are also supposed to be something you enjoy, and I figured that this would have been better than simple. Jazz is something I know you enjoy, I would have done Knights of The Black Death but they aren’t currently touring.” “So you bought two tickets to one of the best jazz clubs in Detroit and won a bit on an auction only shirt.” Hank remarked. “Yes, I figured you could take a friend with you.” Connor continued, “I figured you would have more fun that way, the shirt took a while to get, but that’s the perk of not needing sleep.” Hank bit back a groan and found himself smiling nonetheless. He didn’t deserve this kind of effort and certainly not from Connor. Not to mention that Connor had seemed to greatly over estimate the number of friends he had. Other than Connor and possibly Jeff he really didn’t know who would want join him. According to the date on the tickets he had until that evening to decide.

He tucked the tickets back into the box and did what he could to focus on his work. His mind kept tracking back to how much thought Connor had put into this, some stupid day of the year to commemorate the mistake that was his life. That Connor had found their friendship for lack of a better word worth burning a few paychecks on. It baffled him. On some level he understood that not many people viewed him in the same light he viewed himself, but the fact that Connor of all people saw him as worth this much effort never failed to knock him off kilter. The day was thankfully slow, his head wasn’t in the right place for case work as it was, he wouldn’t have been able to handle a live one. He was pulled back to attention when Connor began to pack up his things for the day. Hank still needed to talk to him about the jazz club. God, how long had it been since he had asked someone on a date? Could this really even be considered a date if Connor was the one that bought the tickets? “Your vitals say you are distressed Hank. Is there something I can do to help?” Connor was standing with his blazer over his arm, it was a charcoal grey number he had picked out to replace the branded one. “Ah no. I was just thinking too much.” He said, here went nothing he supposed, “Would you like to go with me tonight? To the jazz club?” He didn’t miss the small smile that flashed across Connor’s features before he replied, “I would love too.” Hank nodded as relief crashed over him, “Think you could be ready by eight thirty?” “Of course.” Connor agreed, “I’ll see you then Hank.” He gave a polite wave before he turned to leave. Hank was grinning at his monitor like a damn fool.

He got home with just around two hours to get ready and realized he had nothing to wear that would hold a candle to how Connor would probably wind up looking. He dressed sharply despite being a plain clothes detective so it was certain he would be dressed to the nines for this too. He dug through his closet like a damn teenager looking for something that would fit and look nice. He needed to shower as well but that could wait until after he found something to wear that would be presentable. He decided on black jeans at the very least because he couldn’t be paid to wear slacks even for a maybe date. Then it was on to looking for a shirt which took longer than he would have liked. He eventually settled for a dark teal button down that he didn’t remember ever buying but was thankful to have nonetheless. The shower came next since he did have time, and after that it was just a matter of getting himself to look presentable. He shaved figuring it was time the beard went anyway and then tied his hair back in a half ponytail to keep it out of his face. He debated his glasses for a long moment before he put them on, he technically needed them all the time but he only used them at home to give his eyes a break. Satisfied with the way he looked, he fed Sumo, grabbed his leather jacket, and headed for the car. If he was lucky he would only be a little late to pick up Connor. Hank was not in anyway ready for the way Connor was dressed. He had changed his hair to loose curls and an undercut. He was in a maroon button down under a grey suit vest with black slacks. He was absent of a tie and the first couple buttons of the shirt were undone, and he looked nervous. When he saw Hank his LED rolled yellow and blinked a few times and Hank could have sworn it was red for one of them, but just as quick as it happened it was back to blue. His smile was back in place as he walked to the car.

“You clean up nicely Hank.” Connor said with what Hank was going to take a as a friendly smile because if he looked too much into how Connor had looked at him he was going to combust, “The glasses are a nice touch.” Hank let out a dry laugh, “Only you would find not being able to see attractive.” Connor let out a sound that was distinctly inhuman but still very clearly flustered, “I didn’t- that’s not- its-” He sighed, “That’s not to say that I don’t find you attractive normally.” There was a long stretch of silence after that then Connor seemed to realize what he had said and his LED strobed red. The car was alight with his very clear distress, “Could we maybe pretend that I didn’t just say that.” Hank chuckled lightly, “Of course. It will be just like it never happened.” Of course Hank planned to keep the memory for himself. It confirmed that he hadn’t been imagining whatever this unspoken thing was between them. It was unfortunate that it seemed that for now it would stay unspoken. At least he knew glasses at the very least were the key to getting under Connor’s skin. Maybe he could wear them to the station every once in a while. “For what it’s worth Con, you clean up pretty nice as well.” Hank remarked earning another smile from Connor. “I was worried I might be over dressed.” Connor admitted, “I’ve never been to one of these places before so I wasn’t sure what the dress code was.” Hank shook his head as he pulled into the parking lot, “You look just fine, I promise. If anything, I might be a little underdressed.”

“I think you look nice.” Connor said almost under his breath. Hank didn’t know if it was meant for him to hear, but he responded anyway, “Thanks.” He doesn’t get anymore response than Connor’s index finger cutting into his line of sight, “There’s a parking space four spaces up and to the left.” Hank hummed his acknowledgement and pulled into the space once they got to it. He checked to be sure he had the tickets and then got out. Connor followed suit. They were close enough to bump shoulders as they walked to the doors and Hank couldn’t stop the smile on his lips even if he had been paid. It might not have been a date officially, but that didn’t stop it from feeling like it. There was just something in the air that made it feel that way. After they were admitted Connor took his hand and lead him to a corner table with a clear view of the stage. They were early, there was still about twenty minutes before the opening act so the good tables were almost full. Like the parking space Hank chalked it up to Connor’s keen observation, he always was a few steps ahead of Hank it seemed. “Is this alright?” Connor asked his voice was void of its usual confidence. “Its perfect Connor.” Hank reassured, “There’s nothing to be worried about.” “You seemed upset with this idea earlier.” Connor said without looking at him. He was turned in a way that Hank couldn’t see his LED, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” “Hey.” Hank said sharply which caused Connor to look at him and like Hank had suspected his LED was on red, “I was just surprised. Its been... quite a while since someone had put that much thought into a gift. I love it Connor, and if I’m honest I’m still trying to convince myself that this all is real.”

Connor’s LED flickered and Hank knew he was being scanned. Under any other circumstance he would have found it frustrating but he got the feeling Connor was just as out of his depth as Hank was. He needed to know that Hank was being honest and Hank could give him that much. He apparently found what he was looking for because he smiled. “Then I suppose its a good thing I did.” Connor said after a moment, “Someone has to remind you that you matter.” Hank let out a dry laugh, “Damn Connor, usually you buy a man a drink before you get to the sweet talking.” It was a deflection and a poor one at that if the way Connor narrowed his eyes was anything to go by, “Hank.” “Right, no self deprecating comments.” Hank grumbled, “Do they even have android friendly drinks here. I probably should have thought about that sooner.” “They do, don’t worry.” Connor informed, “But even then, tonight isn’t about me.” Hank’s response was cut off by Connor narrowing his eyes once again, “How about we order a couple of drinks before the show starts.” Connor smiled, “That sounds nice.” Hank took his jacket off and rested it on the table to mark it as taken. Connor stood as well and they headed to the bar together. They were bumping shoulders again and Hank was tempted to take his hand again, but he didn’t. When Connor had taken his hand it was so they wouldn’t get separated by the crowd had settled down for the most part in anticipation for the show. Connor stepped up to the bar to order, “Could we get an Old Fashioned and a Thirium Sunset please?”

Hank wasn’t nearly as surprised that Connor knew what he liked to drink as he was at the fact that he had ordered an alcoholic drink for himself, or at least the android equivalent. The bartender seemed surprised as well but got to work on both drinks. “I didn’t know you drank.” Hank found himself saying. “I don’t usually.” Connor admitted, “But its not very gentlemanly to let your date drink alone.” Hank blue screened at that, he was relatively certain Connor meant it as a turn of phrase but he still hung on the word. Connor was smiling, he seemed glad to catch Hank off guard. The night after that passed in a haze of good music and better and conversation. Hank still had to drive so he stopped after two drinks, but the more Connor had the closer he moved and by the end of the night Connor’s usual perception of personal space was little more than a myth. Hank found he didn’t mind. When it came time to leave Connor’s balance was off so Hank put on of his arms over his shoulder and half packed Connor out of the jazz club. Connor tried his best to walk so it wasn’t as much dragging him as he thought it would be. “You have like, really pretty eyes.” Connor said out of the blue when they were nearly to the car, “They are very expressive.” Hank laughed, “Thank you Con.” He found himself wondering if androids could suffer from hangovers but he found himself sympathetic just in case. He got Connor in the car and belted in which wasn’t all that much of a feat, it seemed the cold air had helped him recover some. He was quiet on the way home, and if it weren’t for the fact that his eyes were roaming around the car Hank would have believed him to be in stasis.

“I think I’m back to normal now.” Connor said as Hank pulled into his complex, “Sorry about that.” Hank just chuckled, “Everyone gets that way when they find a drink they like. On top of that I’m pretty sure its your first time drinking. Getting like that is basically a right of passage.” “I could have at least picked a day other than your birthday to get like this.” Connor sighed as he looked down. Hank found a place to park and reached out to ruffle Connor’s hair, “It was nice to see you let loose for once. Tonight was nice.” Connor smiled, “I’m glad then.” If Hank were to be asked about this, he planned to blame it on his drinks, even if he and Connor both knew it was a lie. It was an out both of them could take if they decided this was a mistake, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from leaning in. The kiss he gave Connor was chaste and not much more than a brush of lips. The one Connor chased it with was the exact opposite and Hank found himself breathless when Connor pulled away. “I’ll see you tomorrow Lieutenant.” He said with a wink as he got out, “Happy Birthday.” Hank watched him walk into the building still waiting for his brain to come back online. Of all the ways he expected tonight to end, this was not one of them. Happy Birthday indeed.

@irrelevantbutfabulous

(Prompt from this list)

#Canonverse 'short'#Hankcon #Hannor #dbh hank #dbh connor #dbh fic #dbh #140 Follower Ask Event!#ask panda #panda has all the answers!

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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years

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Hi, I know you’re a fan of namjoon so I wanted to ask your thoughts on this ring thing? I’m kinda new and assumed all these namjoon is married with kids stuff were a joke. But some people seem to totally believe that. I mean where he’d get the time to see a partner and kids is beyond me but who knows? Anyways I was looking at some of their recent pics and he doesn’t wear it all the time - which if it was a couples ring - wouldn’t he? I thought maybe he would only wear it if they were appearing on Run or Korean shows, but he didn’t have it on for either of the new shows they’ve been on recently, as they may not have been as widely watched. I mean I guess it’s none of our business - but I’m trying to rip of my delulu hat for making me think Seokjin gave it to him 🙈

Hi anon, I hope you don’t mind that I’ll combine my answer for you with my answer to another ask since I feel like they fall into the same kind of category, as in people taking things too far and/or blowing things out of proportion. And, coincidentally, both have something to do with rings.

I’ll start with your question though and give you another example that followed a very similar trajectory as the omg namjoon is married with kids because ring narrative/theory. Some months ago, Namjoon posted a few pictures on twitter and among them was a picture of him with another guy wearing a green sweater. His face though was covered. At first ARMY didn’t think much of it, but then, eventually, someone started a joke that “remember that sweater Joon wore for BV4? The guy is wearing the same one, what if that's his boyfriend?” and it went viral.

It started out completely harmless with hundreds of positive and funny tweets made in good humor, no one taking it that seriously knowing that we’d never find out even if it were true. But, as the jokes started to simmer down, everyone had their laugh, the next wave came in and this one decided that this isn’t a joke at all but serious matter. Quickly this harmless fun turned into a witch hunt of “ARMY” trying to figure out who the guy might be, if he is Namjoon’s mysterious friend that once sent him a coffee truck with custom drawn designs on it, perhaps the same one with whom Namjoon already once posted a picture sitting on this garden porch swing type thing, some even trying to prove that the guy is either Seokjin (in which case, what would be the need to cover his face?) or Florist Isaac whom they met during that one RUN episode.

So, very quickly a few idiots turned harmless fun into something almost malicious and got into fights with ARMY who were trying to tell them to stop.

The ring thing followed a similar story. It was once a harmless joke based on the fact that Namjoon wants to have kids one day, so some made jokes about what if he’s already married but we just didn’t know etc. But very quickly that got out of hand as well, going as far as people claiming the little girl in his pictures which he posted around his birthday or something is his daughter (even though it was said it’s probably the child actress from BTS WORLD) and that him making jokes (during a BangtanB while trying on glasses before their MOTS7 press con) about his child being able to read/write hangul at a very young age wasn’t jokes at all but solid proof of the fact that he is married with a child (despite the fact that he would’ve had to have gotten married and his wife pregnant not long after their debut for the timeline to even work out somehow which makes it seem even more ridiculous). This even went as far as people spamming the comments during this vlives with questions about it, flooded his selcas on twitter with questions and “jokes” and, again, attacked anyone who told them to stop.

In all of this, watching it happen from the sidelines as someone whose bias is Namjoon, I was confused why these particular rings (which I don’t even think were the same ones each time) caused such a reaction. The members have all worn so many different rings over the years, on all fingers, sometimes even like eight at the same time, and yet it wasn’t until 2020 and their KBS interview after their first BBH100 #1 that things went bonkers. All because Namjoon decided to take the ring off before they started filming or something.

In all of this I see two things that make me wonder:

When would he have the time to find a girl (since same sex marriage is not a thing in Korea) with whom he would have enough time to befriend her, trust her (considering who Namjoon is, that one is a major thing), fall in love, date and be together for a few years, and then get married? From Seokjin we know they have maybe two or three days off a month and work at least ten hours a day on their BH regulated schedules. Add to that the time they spend in the studio working on music outside of schedules, gym time, a few hours of sleep, and perhaps a few scarce hours of free time to (in Namjoon’s case) go to a museum or ride his bike, does that really leave enough time for romance (with an outsider) that leads to marriage (and a child)?

Is age 26 at the height of their career really the time for marriage? Even more so when you are someone like Namjoon, the leader of the world’s biggest group with more responsibilities than we can likely imagine as outsiders. Sure, he said he wants kids, but he can still have those in his thirties, he can also get married in his thirties, after all, life does not end once you hit thirty despite what some teens believe.

Lastly, I actually think that if it were true, Namjoon, or really anyone from the hyung line, would be the ones who wouldn’t have to hide it, at least not when compared to the maknaes. You could argue that “it would threaten their career” but would it really? Perhaps if the ring were from a man (some namjinists did make jokes that it’s like his promise ring from Seokjin or whatever, but it was all in good fun, nothing more than that), then yes, but connected to a woman? That one member from EXO also came out and said he’s getting married because his fiancé was pregnant and all it did was cause a few fansites to close and a handful of people to “protest” in front of the SM building.

Little correction about my comments about that EXO member, though even with this my point still stands:

From anon: Re: your last post about namjoon’s rings! I agree with everything you said but just a small correction. I’m not an EXO stan but it wasn’t just a a few “protests” or fansites closing. From what I read online, he his fiancée and later wife, and his child were harassed, threatened and stalked to the point where he enlisted early just to give his family some relief. We all know there are people like this in every fandom and I know BTS would be aware of these things, so they’ll be extra careful.

Would there be delulus like this who’d go crazy if Namjoon were to say “ARMY, I’m (getting) married”? Of course. Would it ruin BTS’ career? I seriously doubt it. Do I think Namjoon would actually come out and say it if it were the case? No, but not because it’s bad idol etiquette or because BH wouldn’t allow him, but because people are insane and who knows what they would do.

It’s the same with times when people argue “I wish X ML members would just say he has a girlfriend so the ship wars would end” without taking into consideration the girl’s safety and the fact that a partner different than the one X member is shipped with has never been that big of an obstacle for some before. Just create a conspiracy theory about the company forcing this upon them and voila problem solved. We’ve seen that before when the tattoo scandal happened, and people thought JK might be dating that tattoo artist and therefore it would mean he isn’t in a relationship with Jimin or Tae.

Whatever happens in the members private lives, it is safer for all parties involved if it stays private, even more so if their romantic partners were non-idols, or non-celebrities, or another member.

Now onto the second ring question:

From anon: I am a young army and I am slowly losing my bearings. I've seen Vlive S, H and V. Many say it was a Tk*ok day (?) And all three emphasized it, and the V even wore the friendship ring for Jungkook. Is it true? I don't understand anything about it, I don't see it. After the last BTS interview on TV, I thought Vmin are best friends, not Tk*ok. I thought V said he didn't want Tk*ok and yet he was so happy during Vlive because it was Tk*ok day? Help!

Now this one, I was curious if we’d get an ask about this, even more since, if you’re a reader of our blog, you likely already know what I’m going to say.

Let’s start where you usually do—at the beginning. The day of the vlive coincided with what T*ek*okers have decided on is T*ek*ok Day, based on how supposedly some years ago this was the day Tae and JK named their subunit like this. I tried to find where exactly this happened, as in in which piece of official content, but I couldn’t find anything except for a screenshot. Anyone have a clue or a link?

Side note: T*ek*okers love using the “ship” naming as proof that not only are they real but also proudly showing it off by giving themselves a name but continently forget that they are not the only ones who gave themselves subunit names. After all Jimin and Namjoon named themselves MiniMoni, or Yoongi and Jimin who are MiniMini, Namjoon and Seokjin calling themselves RJRJ last year, or that one vlive with JK, Jimin and Seokjin where they also put together their names the way you build ship names. At the end of that vlive Tae, thanks to come prompting from the chat, named their trio vsope, so does that mean they are a romantic ship now too?

If you were watching that vlive as it was happening, and decided to look at the chat, then you know what was happening. For those who did not, basically the chat was flooded with comments about T*ek*ok Day, asking where JK is whom Tae loves, where his boyfriend JK is, congratulating Tae for T*ek*ok Day etc. Basically shippers took their shipping into a space where it doesn’t belong, into a space where the members can see it, and therefore purposefully broke one of the shipping rules (I even saw some tweet about how they were proud of themselves for literally spamming the chat with T*ek*ok comments which is so wrong, and I mean that regardless of which ship we talk about). In between those were the usual other comments like speak English or say hello to XYZ or say XYZ in whatever language, and very few comments that actually reacted to what the members were doing on screen. Like when Tae said he didn’t shave, instead of telling him that it’s fine, which it is, it’s his face after all, some decided to tell him he should shave more often, basically telling him what to do, which he saw and read out. Great job.

But all the madness came to a “climax” when Hobi was reading comments and among some other ones read out T*ek*ok, just the word not the T*ek*ok Day ones, and unfortunately we all knew he wasn’t reading out the Korean word for Thailand, which sounds the same though it is spelled a little differently. In that moment all hell broke loose. Focus cams of Tae’s facial expression in that moment went viral among shippers, most of course claiming he looked so happy, while other non-shippers claimed he didn’t look happy at all. It’s a micro moment so I won’t get into it, who knows what Tae thought in that moment and what his facial expression meant and if it even had any connection to the word and Hobi reading it out loud at all.

Because he read that comment, Hobi was basically crowned the new leader of the T*ek*ok shippers (I thought that role already went to Jimin?) and twitter basically had a meltdown.

As for the ring, I know this is something a lot of ships have, with romantic connotations according to their shippers, so I was curious how these rings supposedly look like in T*ek*ok’s case and if they even match the ring that Tae wore in the vlive. If it would, fine, if not, well…

If it’s not clear from the picture, the “supposed couple” or friendship rings are very delicate and thin, and sure enough I did find a lot of pictures in which both Tae and JK wore them, usually at different times, I will admit that. But the ring Tae wore during their vlive recently was much thicker and had some kind of design on it, therefore it’s a completely different one. Sorry. Why he wore it, if he bought it for himself or received it from someone, what emotional connotation to may or may not have, those are things we won’t know anything about unless he would tell us, so there's no point in speculating.

“Many say it was a Tk*ok day (?) And all three emphasized it” now this is curious to me since I watched the vlive as it was happening, and I didn’t see that at any point in the vlive. Sure, Hobi read that one comment, but if 95% of comments were about that, I wasn’t even surprised by it. Perhaps he thought that it would get people to stop? Perhaps he just read whatever comments his eyes landed on? Perhaps something else entirely? We have no way of knowing it so there is no point in trying to fixate on it. But besides that, they were talking about many other things and having fun making their smoothies, decorating them and just having a good time together with each other and with ARMY.

So, this way of presenting the vlive basically comes down to shipper perception, confirmation bias, and simply, almost, rewriting history.

Rings do not determine who your best friend is (according to a quick google search, wearing a ring on your index finger simply means friendship or self-esteem/authority), after all many of the members have rings either from each other or ones that match, like Namjoon buying Jimin a Cartier ring for his birthday a few years ago which Jimin proudly wore since it’s really pretty, or pink and blue rings (there are several different ones, actually) that Namjoon has worn with Seokjin in the past (which fits into the Namjinist pink and blue agenda), or the rings Jimin and JK have together according to their shippers, and many more. Jimin and Tae have a whole plethora of matching jewelry in form of necklaces, rings, bracelets, even contact lenses (as in wearing one of each pair to match each other), some which were chosen by their stylists and others they bought themselves for themselves (which are all conveniently “forgotten” by those who ship either big ML ship). Though we’ve seen that even with clothes given by their stylists they were still the ones to choose their own accessories, like Namjoon choosing a pair of glasses from a whole box of different ones, or the members choosing rings from two big boxes before going on stage.

Tae himself said, on multiple occasions across multiple years, that Jimin is his best friend, even his one and only best friend, and that he’s the one he likes most which he even proclaimed on national TV. As long as Tae doesn’t say that this has changed in the last, what, two weeks and suddenly JK is officially his new best friend, those who claim otherwise are basically nothing but shippers pushing a narrative that willfully ignores Tae’s own words. Just like they ignore and twist his Weverse comment about how T*ek*okers should get out of their imagination. What doesn’t fit is ignored or adjusted until it does fit.

Lastly, sure enough, Tae really was happy during that vlive but I’m fairly certain (though neither you, them or I will ever know for sure, we’re not in Tae’s head) it had absolutely no connection to T*ek*ok Day, something shippers created and not Tae and JK themselves, seeing as Tae has been in a very good and happy mood for a few months now. Whatever makes him so happy, I truly hope it’ll continue making him happy and I wish shippers (and solo stans) would stop trying to force a reason (which fits them) upon his emotions.

I know it’s easy to get confused by how loud shippers are online, especially as young ARMY (in this case both ARMY who are young age wise but also young in the sense of being new to the fandom), but shipper opinions, in many cases, are just noise, and also noise twisted and skewed a certain way to suit them. If you kept to OT7 spaces on the day of that vlive, no one really paid attention to the ring, most were annoyed by and furious at the shamelessness of the shippers in the comments, and tried to just focus on how fun the vlive was instead.

#answered ask #answered ask by admin 1 #Namjoon #Taehyung #BTS

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aerinsfables · 3 years

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Flower Shop AU, part 3

See part 2 here.

——

Monday morning found Bracken back at the shop again. He normally had Sundays and Mondays off, but the sister who worked with him and their mother had had a conflict that day and asked him to cover her shift. “Besides,” she’d reasoned, “You’re always there, anyway.”

He’d made to protest that, despite her comments, he did in fact have a social life (not an entirely truthful statement), but then he saw her excited face and remembered that she was planning to surprise her girlfriend with a lunchtime marriage proposal, so he ultimately smiled and told her he’d be happy to take her shift if she promised to bring his soon-to-be sister-in-law over that night for dinner.

Today’s list of tasks included signing for a delivery of several different types of lilies, making some general “have a good day” and “I love you” bouquets for passersby who might wish to stop inside and pick up some flowers for their friend or significant other during the day, put together a special birthday order to be delivered tomorrow, purchase more flowers which would be needed for a couple of large arrangements that had been ordered for an upcoming funeral, call a few customers to let them know their orders were ready to pick up, and of course, more corsages and boutonnières for the coming weekend. His father would be arriving later that morning to assist, but Bracken always opened the shop, so he’d be on his own for another two or three hours.

Bracken took a peek into one of the refrigeration units inside the shop and pulled out two vases with arranged flowers and colorful ribbons. He placed those on top of the front counter and returned twice more to pull out a total of four additional vases, all of which he placed on the countertop. His trained and careful eye examined each of the arrangements to check for droopy buds, wilting leaves or other problems, but he found none; his mother had assembled these particular arrangements, and her work was flawless as usual. He called the first customer to let them know their order was ready to be picked up, and was midway through dialing the second customer’s phone number when a flurry of motion caught his eye and caused him to turn his attention to the street outside. The shop itself was located alongside a relatively busy street which usually experienced a lot of pedestrian, bicycle and vehicle traffic, but Bracken’s jaw dropped when he saw what had managed to pull him out of his work mindset.

Kendra. She was being pulled by a taller man - a bit roughly, Bracken noted, and also very obviously against her will - from the cafe across the street toward a car which had been parked not far from the very flower shop where Bracken was located.

Well. That wasn’t going to stand.

He was out the door in a flash, without bothering to lock up. Kendra looked like she was in trouble, and although he still didn’t really know her, he’d be damned if he sat back and witnessed anyone being forced to go anywhere or do anything against their will.

“You think that was funny?!” Bracken heard the man yell at her. “You leave those crazy ass flowers on my doorstep, then ghost me all weekend?! What the hell is your problem?!”

“Leave me alone!” she cried as she struggled to break free of his hold on her. “Stop!”

Run faster.

“Hey! Kendra!” Bracken called as he ran. His hail grabbed the attention of both parties, and he managed to intercept them before they made it all the way to what Bracken figured was the man’s car.

“Get lost,” the man told him.

“Let me go!” Kendra shouted, tears streaming down her face.

Bracken placed his hands on top of Kendra’s arm, then pried the man’s hand off of her and set her free. “The lady wishes for you to leave her alone,” he said simply. The man, who had dark, curly hair and what would probably have been handsome features if his face weren’t contorted in rage, yanked his hand out of Bracken’s grasp and moved to take hold of Kendra again. Bracken stepped between them, effectively blocking the man’s access to Kendra with his own body. “Excuse me,” he said. “I don’t know who you are, but it’s time for you to leave.”

“I told you to get lost,” the man positively seethed. He looked like he was going to hit Bracken, who was prepared to defend himself, when another man suddenly dashed in front of Bracken and knocked Kendra’s assailant to the ground. Bracken knew the newcomer - his name was Warren, and he and his brother owned the cafe across the street.

“Who the hell do you think you are, dragging Kendra around like a ragdoll?!” Warren yelled. “I warned you. I straight up warned you. Get out of here. If you know what’s good for you, you will never come around here again. Got it?!”

The man on the ground held a hand to his cheek. Bracken could see a bruise already forming below his eye. “You’re psychotic,” he said to Warren.

“And you’re an astounding piece of trash. If I hear about you hurting Kendra ever again, you’ll be buried trash. Have I made myself clear?” Warren’s face was flushed, and his fists quivered with what Bracken recognized as barely-concealed rage.

Bracken turned toward Kendra, whose cheeks were wet from continued tears and who also cradled her arm - the one the man had grabbed - in front of her. “Are you injured?” he asked as gently as he could.

She shook her head no.

“Do me a favor and get her out of here, Bracken,” Warren said, his eyes trained on the guy who was still lying on the ground. “I’m going to stand here and make sure this loser leaves.”

A small crowd of people were gathering to watch the show, and Bracken agreed that it would be best to remove Kendra from the situation. With a careful hand, he lightly touched her back and gestured toward the flower shop. “Would you like to come inside for a moment?” he asked.

Kendra didn’t verbally respond, but she let him guide her away from the scene and into the store. Bracken led her into the back room, the one he and his family primarily used to store their tools and miscellaneous supplies (vases, plastic wrappings, ribbons, the die-cut machine and materials, shears and scissors, etc.) and pulled out a chair for her to sit on. He then retrieved a couple of water bottles from the refrigerator in that room and passed one to her. She accepted it, but didn’t say anything, and continued to weep.

Concern flooded Bracken’s brain. He didn’t know who that guy had been, but after witnessing the altercation outside, he could understand why Kendra wasn’t in a condition to speak at the moment. “May I see your arm?” he asked.

Kendra hesitated, then stretched her arm out in front of her. It was red around her wrist, and looked tender. He wouldn’t be surprised if bruises started to form later. “It looks alright,” he stated. “I don’t have any ice, unfortunately, but I do have another chilled water bottle I can offer you, if you’d like to use it as a cold compress for now.”

“Th-th-thank y-you,” she gasped as she tried to control her sobs.

His heart went out to her. Was it inappropriate for him to hug her? Probably. She didn’t know him! And he was positive that he was making her feel awkward while he just stood there and watched her cry. He placed a tentative hand on her upper arm. “Would you like to have some time by yourself?”

She gave an emphatic nod at that question.

Bracken withdrew his hand and said, “You’re safe here. Stay as long as you need to. I can order in lunch for the both of us, later, if you’d like. My father will be here in a couple of hours, but I can tell him to leave you alone.” He cast his gaze around the room and found a few boxes of tissues, opened one, and set it down on a countertop near Kendra. “For you,” he said. “I’ll be right outside this door, making phone calls and otherwise managing the front. Feel free to call for me if you need anything.”

A shaky “thank you” was received, and he pulled the door shut as he exited. Later, when she’d calmed down, perhaps he’d ask her some of the questions which were bouncing around in his mind. Who was that guy? Did she want to press charges? Get a restraining order? Was her house safe from him? What had she been doing around this area?

Not that he was upset she’d been right outside - he was actually glad for that. He had no idea how she knew Warren, and couldn’t have predicted his involvement, but at the very least, Bracken was glad to have been able to help in some way.

Speaking of Warren. His entrance into the store caused the little bells at the front to ring. Bracken greeted him and said, “She’s safe, she’s in the back room here,” and pointed to the door behind him. “She wanted some privacy.”

“Thanks for your help out there,” Warren said. “That piece of shit finally fled the scene after he screamed some more. Dumbass thinks he can hurt Kendra. She’ll be staying with me, at least until he’s no longer a threat. Idiot.”

“I’m glad she has someone like you to help her,” Bracken replied. “Her wrist, where she was being pulled around, may start to bruise later. I didn’t notice any other injuries, thankfully.”

Warren placed a hand on Bracken’s shoulder. “Seriously,” he reiterated. “Thank you for your help. If you hadn’t intervened…” he trailed off. “You gave me the extra few seconds I needed in order to jump over some customers and get out there. Thanks again.”

“It was no trouble,” Bracken said. “I couldn’t watch that happen and not do something about it. Kendra doesn’t deserve that treatment. No one does.”

“It was trouble, but I’m grateful you were there.” Warren removed his hand. “Is it okay if I go see her?”

“Be my guest,” Bracken replied. “If you know her well, I really think she could use a hug.”

“That girl is my honorary baby sister,” he said. “She’ll get as many hugs as she wants, and then I’m taking her to my house where she’ll get all the comfort food she could ever need, along with the TV remote. I’ll give her the rest of the week off, if she wants.”

“She works for you?” Bracken asked, unprepared for that particular realization. She worked across the street?

“Yeah,” Warren said. “That douchebag showed up and took hold of her right when she was walking in for her shift. Busiest time of the day. She didn’t even make it to the front door.” He looked at the door behind Bracken again, who caught his cue.

“Go right inside,” Bracken told him. “Stay as long as you’d like.”

“Thanks again,” Warren repeated. “Seriously. Thank you.”

It wasn’t much longer before Warren and Kendra exited the flower shop, with the former shielding the latter from view. Bracken bid them both farewell, and best wishes, then resumed making phone calls to his customers.

Later that afternoon, shortly before Bracken left for the day, an email popped into the store’s mailbox. He recognized it as an answer to one of the surveys they always sent out after someone picked up their order. This one was from Kendra.

A five-star ranking, accompanied by the simple words, Thank you.

He broke protocol and responded back to her. You’re welcome. Please be safe.

—————

Read part 4 here!

#brackendra #fablehaven #aerinm writes #flower shop au #part 4 is mostly written already as well #apparently this is my therapy project 🤷‍♀️#imma go back to work now

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nightswithkookmin · 3 years

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JIKOOK BE CONCEPT- EXTENDED ANALYSIS

ANON: Hey Goldy, so I want to ask, what makes you look at one moment and decide the tension in there is nothing but then in another moment you claim Jikook are having issues? I ask because of the conclusions you drew on the photoshoot video when you said they were fighting but in two other instances where we can all clearly see that the mood between Jikook is tense like Jimin's mood in the Be Concept Clip and the other interview you have said it's nothing. I don't mean this in a disrespectful way, I just want to understand your thought process if you can walk me through it. It's ok if you don't respond. I love your posts regardless. Keep it up.

Thanks for your question.

I think I try my best as much as possible to share my thought process on why I reach certain conclusions and in instances where I do not have much time to delve deeper into a conversation I state an NB indicating I would be talking further about that particular topic later on?

I think the first thing I can point out to you right off the bat in regards to your question is that we may most likely be having different understandings of tension as pertains to shipping simply because we ship Jikook in different ways.

Again, I do not mean to say my perspective is superior or that someone else's is inferior. I'm just saying we may be having different views on the topic based on the differences in our shipping styles.

To me tension is not just a sense or feeling or mood. It is one of the metrics I employ in assessing whether or not a ship is real- stay with me.

In my experience, while people may be good at hiding a relationship, they can never hide the intimacy of the relationship or the stress of keeping that relationship a secret. Secrets are stressful to keep and they leave stress trails in their wake. It's as simple as that. If any ship is real in BTS you will see its stress marks.

It's not easy standing there, watching your man's nipples being played with, or having another man grope your intimate partner for entertainment purposes while you stand there smiling for the cameras- you can smile, but it's going to be fake.

It's not easy hearing how your man sneaks into another man's shower to watch him bathe and compliment the size of his dick.

It's not easy hearing how you can't stand next to your man in a line up while another person takes that position even if it's just for work.

It's not easy pretending not to love your man, while watching everyone else love on him. It's not easy being told what you can do and not do with your partner much less by your own peers.

It's not easy hiding your love and affection for the person you love, holding yourself back from kissing them, or hugging them or doing any of the intimate stuff you are so used to doing with them- not when you have to be around them all the time.

It's not easy having cameras shoved in your face during your alone, private time with your man, when you are watching them on giant screens and they are right there next to you but you can't hold them- please listen to JK's demo Delcacomania which he released on his birthday last year and you will understand why he cried when JM flew from Paris to see him on his birthday. I cried too.

My point is, it's really not easy keeping a relationship a secret within the same work space as your partner. It's not as easy as other shippers make it seem. That shit is stressful and stress begets tensions and tensions begets conflicts- especially if there are other people attached to the parties in the relationship.

A secret gets heavy before it gets easy but you can never erase the stress that comes with hiding that secret especially not in a group as diverse in personalities as BTS. There are bound to be clashes, there are bound to be slip ups- moments where the fourth wall is breached and many others.

Stress is usually one of the first indicators of people keeping anything a secret. I've been called toxic for this, but I pay a lot of attention to conflicts and tensions within the group dynamics regardless of the degree of that tension because that conflict to me is a sign of stress.

I can tell you for a fact, any ship that is kumbaya in BTS is not real. Any ship whose existence doesn't stress out the group dynamics is a ship made in Disney heading for Never-land. Conflict and tension is a sign of stress and stress is a sign of keeping secrets.

That's not to say every single tension within the group, between Jikook or any other ship is as a result of them keeping that ship a secret. I think we can rule out all forms of contrived tensions at this point- you know which ones I'm talking about. Ain't no damn person up in there tryna steal nobody's man in BTS. The fuck?! Lmho.

Then there are those tensions that are as a result of mood swings, bad hair days, a call being delayed, a missed period- what? some of them have girlfriends, cough cough. Yea, Don't mind me.

Tension could be caused by anything really and so I think it's not enough to point out tensions but you have to try and ascertain the cause and effect of that tension to see if that tension is as a result of the stress that comes with keeping Jikook a secret or whether it is rather causing stress or going to cause a stress in their relationship dynamics-

C'mon, now y'all know if Jimin should thirst over another man that that is going cause a lot of stress not just for JK but the group as well because Jikook's mood affects them too.

Jimlous and Jeonlous are also signs of the stress that comes with keeping Jikook's relationship a secret. Let's be honest, if they were out all of those wouldn't be happening. People wouldn't cross their boundaries as much as they do.

From my perspective, both of Jikook are constantly reacting, poorly might I add, to their relationship being a secret. It seems to me they both hate what they have to do to keep eachother a secret within the group.

Jimin keeps JK a secret by acting as if he is available and JK keeps Jimin a secret by acting as if he doesn't want him- cold, nonchalant, and the way I see them I think it drives them both crazy. Lol.

Jimin doesn't want to come out but he doesn't want to be kept a secret either. He just wants to be in that glass closet whereas JK seems to want to be out or completely hidden- he is not about that middle ground life, I feel. But that doesn't mean he doesn't make compromises especially where Jm is concerned.

Jimin is very conscious and highly judgmental of himself and I think he projects a bit of that into their relationship dynamics. As such he is constantly worrying about feedback, about how their relationship is affecting the group's dynamics.

You see this in the way he runs to JK upon the least complaints by any member about JK. Like when Jin complained about JK not choosing his bag over JM's, or when RM complained about JK buying a birthday present for only JM and not the others.

Or when RM complained about JK showing a song he had written to JM first before showing it to him in a VLive- now they didn't mention who they were talking about exactly but I knew from the moment JM started reciting Jikook's go to response for whenever they are called out for constantly being together, the whole 'we just so happened to be together in that moment,' that they were talking about JK. I don't know, I could be wrong.

JM is constantly trying to mitigate Jungkook's tendencies for exclusivity in their relationship especially where it conflicts with the groups interest even though that exclusivity and preferential treatment feeds directly into his love language.

It's that kumbaya in him I keep talking about. He would sacrifice their happiness for the groups. In my opinion.

But JK aint about that life. His entire philosophy is to pursue personal happiness first. So often, you would see him weaponizing their relationship secret against JM- trying to out him and shit. which in turn, ends up causing their relationship a ton of stress.

The best illustration I can give for this is when JK posted Ending Scene in early parts of 2019 and people started speculating Jikook had broken up because it was a break up song. JM immediately responded to that post with two posts, one about the Calico cat or something and the other pointing out how that song was just a cover. Jimin hates it when JK does something to create the impression that they are not together especially when they are together.

But at the same time, he would take a step back from their relationship, ask for space to try and nurture his other relationships with friends and family when he feels JK coming on too strong on him- like Jimin what do you actually want! You drive me nuts!

What I'm trying to say is that when you point out that JM looks tensed, you should be able to explain why you think he looks tensed.

And if you think his tension goes to the root of their relationship, then you should be able to predict the consequences of that tension too. Lol.

For me, I filter their tensions through their established patterns of behavior, their personalities and the actions that arise from their personalities- listen, the Maknae line can be very melancholic for no reason sometimes. Not sure what goes on but boy can they brood!

You have to consider all these things.

Tensions are obvious, obviously. Or maybe not. Most of them are quite easy to spot. Some not so much. They do go undetected if you are not hyper focused on them in certain moments when they happen or aren't aware of the context or subtext behind such moments.

Perspective is everything. We all don't have the same perspective. But no one holds the truth when it comes to Jikook. We can only speculate in a way that holds meaning to us.

Take for example Jimin and Jin's call during Jimin's VLive in March this year. There are a fraction of shippers who do not believe that that call was intercepted by JK at all simply because they do not see the subtext of that moment. Why would JK do that and not just reveal his identity, they ask. A valid point.

Then there are those who see JK interrupting that call as plausible because they believe they can differentiate between JK and Jin's call voice. Equally valid point.

Then there's me, who think yes that was JK's voice but goes further to try and anwer the questions raised by the first group as that, JK was pushing the boundaries both with JM and Bighit for barring him from doing a live with JM.

As such, I believe that call was an act of rebellion on his part to be allowed to Jikook with his man on the VApp. All that protest would then lead to a pivotal moment of him and JM having their VLive but under heavy surveillance. Lol.

Actions have consequences whether good or bad. Whether positive or negative. It's the cause and effect principle. Every effect has a predictable cause and every action has a specific and predictable effect.

If a moment of tension is created between them that is substantial, it is going to produce a subsequent substantial reaction. Law of Newton- I can't make this shit up. Lmho.

Another moment of this nature for me would be the VMin's unit interview filmed in February/March and released in June during Festa.

Now, if you were following the tensions between V and JK around that period, the context and subtext of that Interview would be easily apparent to you- V was just shading JK left right left. Bless him.

All that random flirting with Jimin- JM lost his Mochi cheeks, his pinky has grown were just code for JM is a grown ass man now so stop being possessive over him.

I have said Jikook have been asserting themselves against eachother this year following the lows of late 2019 and especially around that time period.

For Jimin, that self assertion takes the form of checking JK's over possessiveness over him as that is a huge cause of tensions within the group throughout the years and something that I feel really bothered JM in the later half of 2019 and early half of 2020.

Why does it bother him when he used to be the one enabling that shit in JK? The members, keep up. Lol but not just the members. Remember I said earlier how, Jikook had come under heavy scrutiny with May 2019 to June this year. JM I feel wanted to keep things really on the low but JK- sigh.

Believe it or not, JK dumb whipped ass exposes Jikook more than JM does in their relationship. In the very least his possessiveness and chest puffing when anyone breathes near JM is one of the biggest tells.

We all know Tae is one of the members that have openly pointed out his displeasure with JK keeping JM to himself, cutting him off from his friends and all. Now we all know also that Jimin's pinky is a huge deal to JK. The moment he saw VMin comparing pinkies that's when he began screwing with us for real! Lmho.

JK made a big deal about JM's pinky and also seemed to have a thing for JM's Mochi cheeks too, calling him his Mochi and shit right in front of Tae's salad. Listen, TAE KNOWS. He knows!

So I found it interesting, how those parts of JM were specifically the things that V felt had changed about Jimin- I mean go back and look at Tae's facial expressions and smirk when he started talking about that. Lmho.

Then Jimin clapped back with that whole pinky line from their song Friends, pointing out how contradictory Tae was being. Lol.

To me that has always been one aspect of Tae and JK's ship dynamics that I enjoy so much. Tae is constantly teasing and shading JK and it's so subtle yet passive aggressive sometimes. you might miss it if you don't understand the context of him saying certain things in certain moments.

He don't spare JM sometimes either. Chileee. You never know with this man. Lol.

I mean did y'all catch his jab at JK during Festa when JK brought up the rain fight and he said, yea but that was a long time ago though- give it a rest. When I tell you, this man knew JK was trying to one up him over the whole dumpling fight thingy he had with JM. Lmho.

Then in that dynamite MV reaction VLive when JK and JM tried to eye fuck through the viewfinder? Let's not look into the camera he says so eloquently then side eyes JK- I LOVE THIS MAN!!! Please stay on their necks for me. They play too much! Lmho.

JK's possessiveness over JM is one of the causes of tension within the group I feel and JK have said his hyungs try to teach him not to be so possessive. Tae, RM and Suga to me are those hyungs who keep him in check the most, most times.

All that being said, just because there is tension present between them in a given moment doesn't necessarily mean it's as a result of a conflict between them as I have explained in past posts.

The inverse of this is similarly true. Truth is we can never know these things for sure. We can only speculate.

And personally, as I keep pointing out I have my own metrics for assessing these kinds of things. I get it wrong sometimes and when I do, I simply adjust my metrics and keep it pushing.

It's my own customized metrics, the lens through which I filter their interactions and make sense of their moments and It works for me. Isn't that what having an opinion is about?

I find, some of their interactions or moments follow an established pattern of behavior from their past moments and so it's much easier to call those.

For instance, you don't need a six foot page analysis to identify Jimlous or Jeonlous when you see it. You don't need a crystal ball to tell you when JK nibbles on Jimin's ear that Jimin is nervous. They did that in 2018, they did that in 2019, they've done that in 2020- to me that's become a pattern and when I see JK anywhere near Jimin's ear depending on the setting I will conclude JM is nervous and JK is trying to comfort him.

All that would be left for me to determine then is why Jimin is nervous at all in that moment and if I find he has no reason to be nervous in that instant my next assumption then would be that Jeon Jungkook is horny. I'm not kidding. Jk scares me. Lol.

Don't mind me.

He could be horny or he could be touchy, or he could be just expressing his affections through skinship. All of that is valid so I would employ an elimination approach?

I would rule out Jikook sexual foreplay in instances like that based on whether or not JK's gesture was a mission given to him by the staff based on Jimin's reaction to that gesture- He seemed pretty disappointed when he learned that JK bopping his nose was just a mission.

At times too I test out theories.

Yes, Jimin is an extrovert but does he freeze out JK when he is being an extrovert? He doesn't. We have seen him grabbing the Jeon titties in behind the scenes photoshoot, we have seen JK shove his butt in JM's dick face, we have seen 50 shades of JK grab JM's neck and dip his hand down his neck into his chest region to warm himself up. We have seen Jikook at behind the scenes photo shoots countless times. They gravitate towards eachother.

So if he is being his extrovert self with every body but JK, and JK is orbiting him but not interacting with him as they have done in the past then honestly I don't need my crystal ball to assume something is up between them. Why? Because Jikook's interactions behind the scenes aren't susceptible to false conditionings as compared to the intentional, exaggerated versions of their interactions on camera which sometimes can be laced with fanservice.

Jikook is not fanservice. Most of their behind cameras are moments of them breaching the forth wall. Like JM walking into JK's room without noticing there were cameras in the room. Their mood in there was not a performance and wasn't intended for the cameras and yet they were still close. Them taking a picture at the back of the track was equally that- unintended for the cameras.

What I'm saying is, we have seen Jikook when they are working on camera and when they are not working on camera and that mood in that behind the scenes photoshoot video doesn't fit either description of Jikook in those settings to me regardless of whether I know them personally or not.

What that moment fits into for me is a pattern of behavior that has been consistent with Jikook over the years. And I know people box JM into this whole extrovert personality but as I've said I don't believe anyone is completely extroverted or introverted.

JM to me has a certain degree of introvertedness in him and I've talked about this. He seems to have a bit of an avoidant personality too where he recoils into himself or shut people out in certain moments like how he says he drinks alone and becomes much quieter when he feels stressed out.

He doesn't open up as much about his problems it seems, he bottles it all up untill it eats him up- I'm glad he says when gets like that JK notices his mood and often comes around to do something that makes him laugh. Jimin does same for JK when he is feeling anxious- Please, Jikook is real ok?

So stop telling lies. Lol.

I think this avoidant personality becomes more prominent in moments when he fights or argues with people.

In Manila it was that moment where he noticed JK staring at him and so be moved his seat back to avoid JK's gaze. In VMin dumpling fight, it was him going out to drink with Suga after the fight- classic avoidant behavior. In Yoonmin it was him asking Suga not to touch him when Suga put his hand on his back even though Suga was sat right next to him.

In 2017- was it the behind scenes photoshoot for the billiard pool games? We saw JM literally running away from JK. Lol. He literally side-eyed the fuck out of JK, yeeted himself away from JK the moment he finished posing for the cameras. In that OT7 footage where V was playing with JK's hair, again, he yeeted himself out of there real quick at the end of filming- dude literally said deuces bitches. Lol.

And in the Jin birthday VLive 2019, he pulled away instinctively when JK's knee touched his. In all these instances, JM was keeping up the facade. Smiling and interacting like his normal slytherin/ honorary hufflepuff self but his instinctual reactions is what gave him away. In my opinion.

To me that is a pattern of behavior on JM's part. When he is angry or mad st someone- he avoids them. And it's harder if he has to be within the same space with such person.... I'll circle back to this.

All the times since 2015 when he's been 'mad' at JK he's done just that- Akekeking with everyone else, amplifying his extrovertedness, latching on to his 'clutches' within the group, all the while keeping JK at bay while stealing glances at him to see his reaction at the same time.

And when he notices how that's affecting JK- he literally smirks in satisfaction. Meet evil chim everyone- And I say this with love, he is vindictive as fuck. I mean this is the same person who didnt hesitate to kill Army in a game just for disobeying him- allegedly. Same person who said he would whoop his bandmates except of course for JK and force them to bow at his feet if he was ruler. Did y'all see Tae turning to check JM's reaction when JK made fun of his singing in run? Did you see his passive aggressive reaction to JK after that clowning?

Listen, we all should be scared of Park Jimin. He is sweet and all but fuck with him... I dare you. PJMs are gonna revoke my PJM membership are they not? Oh God! Lol

JK is similar to JM in this regard. He avoids when he is angry or edgy. Try touching him in that state and he is pulling away. He did it with Tae in the Dynamite MV behind scenes where Tae tried to touch him and he pulled away and the whole not wanting to hold hands with Tae at the KBS interview thingy- it actually broke my heart watching that bit. JK. Sigh. Will post and delete the Taekook video I am talking about as soon as I post this- out of respect for their shippers.

JK does the same to JM too sometimes when JM irritates him. Manila and also around On promo when they had that Alex Almanto whatever unit shoot- they were all having fun, there's a cut and suddenly he is pulling away when JM holds him, does the lip thingy, and glares at JM. He turns away to look at Hobi, which I just think he was trying to hide his expression from the camera lol- JM almost burst out into laughter and I nearly peed myself watching that bit- JK can be very petty sometimes. Lmho

He did the same in this controversial photoshoot. He was mad at both JM and Namjoon which explains the part he was dragging his feet when he was walking away from JM. It wasn't because he was waiting for Jimin. He was avoiding Namjoon who was walking ahead of him. In my opinion. And the part he stood with Jin and RM- JM did something hilarious JK giggled a little but turned immediately to Namjoon and when he noticed RM laughing too he stopped laughing. Then he did that thing were he put the fear of God in RM when RM stood close to JM. JK was so angry he forgot his manners when he bumped into Jin in that moment and again, like always. He looked away to avoid the scenery.

Now I don't know what had gone on there but I'm still trying to reconstruct that moment to figure it out. All I know is something went on involving those three and may be Tae too as I have pointed out in previous posts.

JM was mad at JK, JK was mildly mad at JM but heavily mad at RM.

All these things I've mentioned are patterns of behavior that have repeated over the years from my delusional point of view of Jikook's interactions and of their interactions as against the group dynamics.

Circling back to the Be concept clip and JM's mood in there, I gotta ask. Do you think Jimin's mood was as a result of the stress of keeping their relationship a secret in that moment?

It wasn't to me. Even after looking away from JK he went back to looking at JK again. When their eyes met he smiled a little. Whatever was going on with him had nothing to do with JK or their relationship. If it did, he would have been much more hostile than that and frankly JK wouldn't be sat there cheesing the way he was doing in that instance. His butt would have been on fire.

JM seemed- serene and peaceful to me. I actually enjoy him most in his moments of quiet like these.

RM's reaction to that Jikook moment however is an indication of stress to me. He seemed excited, probably wanted to play with his Jiminie but when he noticed JM had looked away his instincts was to check JK's reaction. Not anybody else, JK.

When he noticed JK was smiling at JM he dropped his hands and seemed a bit deflated. That deflation right there is one of the signs of the stress I'm talking about.

RM isn't just the leader he is their friend. Like V his bond with JM suffers from time to time due to our elephant in the room. I am often fascinated by RM and JM's friendship dynamics and would definitely love to have conversation about their dynamics.

I hope this answers your question?

Please keep supporting Jikook. Jikool is real.

Signed,

GOLDY

#jikook #jikook analysis #kookmin analysis #jikooktheories #kookmintheories #jikook scenarios #Goldy #goldy blogs #goldy ananlysis #goldy theories #jikook fights #bts ships #jikook is real #jikook are in love #jikook ship

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love101imagines · 4 years

Text

One thing left to try

request: Could you pls write a fic with sinan? Using prompts 13,15,22,29 and 34 from the first list. I thought of maybe At a party y/n needs Sinan's help, so that Burak stops chasing her, so he pretends to be her partner, when Burak doesn't leave her alone, Sinan starts a fight. Thanks!

tag list: @peraltwolf @zaynlikfalls @wwafangirld

prompts used: 13. Don't look at me like that. 15. Just pretend to be my date. 22. You're not my friend anymore, remember? 29. Where did you get those bruises? 34. I'm used to it, don't worry.

"Işik, are you sure you're ready for a high school party?" You asked slowly, your arm wrapped around the blonde girl who held tightly her purse.

Eda next to you chuckled. "You're ready for alcohol? And for people making out with each other? And the smell of cigarettes everywhere?"

"There's nothing to worry about." Isik cut you both off shaking her head. "I'm only here because Osman asked us to come. And nothing bad will happen, they're our classmates."

Eda shrugged. "I'm here for the free booze."

You rolled your eyes with a smile, fixing a bit your skirt while you reached the house where the party was taking place.

"Should we wait for the guys?" You asked glancing at all the cars that were parked in almost the whole block, internally hoping to see one boy in particular.

You stood on your tiptoes trying to recognize any of them, already knowing that Kerem was coming with Osman with his own car.

"Nah." Eda brushed it off. "I bet Sinan isn't even coming, and it's already crowded inside."

You were slightly discouraged. You didn’t want one boy to control your whole mood without truly knowing, but you couldn’t avoid feeling that way towards him. You two had been friends for a while before you got closer with the whole expulsion thing. The girls already knew about your feelings for Sinan, but you wouldn’t risk ruining one of your friendships only because of a crush.

"Are you sure?" Işik asked a bit worried, but you were already opening the door without knocking.

You three were instantly greeted by loud music and people everywhere. The walls seemed to shake from the heavy bass blasting through the speakers, hurting your ears but you tried not to mind.

You turned to Işik with a smile. "So? What do you think?"

She opened her mouth to speak, with no words coming out as she looked around the house. You chuckled lightly. "Anyway, I'll grab something to drink. What do you want?"

"A soda, please."

"Beer. We'll...walk around until the boys show up, okay?" Eda said over the music.

You nodded before walking away, greeting a few people and trying not to bump into the many couples who were shoved up against the wall making out or the kids who were too drunk to properly walk.

“You’re no fun, (Y/N).” Eda complained with a huff.

You only took a sip of your soda. "I'm plenty of fun, in fact, I...oh shit."

Before you could notice that Işik was waving at the guys who had just arrived to come over at your place near the kitchen counter, you had already left the room trying not to run into Burak.

You two had talked a few times because you were in the same school year, but since Eda had turned him down, he seemed to be keen on going on a date with you. You wanted to avoid confrontation the best you could, already knowing that when the whole thing with Eda happened, he hadn't reacted well.

So, that was the reason why you were making your way between the crowd of people with one hand covering your can of soda trying to hide from him. The house was crowded, with almost your whole school inside. You weren't even sure whose birthday it was, only receiving the invitation from Osman who had a few extra, giving the rest to your other friends.

Once you found herself outside in the small garden, you allowed yourself to catch a breath. There were only a few people mingling outside, but a hand on your upper back startled you.

You cursed under your breath, almost spilling your soda. "God, you scared me."

Sinan rolled his eyes with an already opened beer in his hand which didn't surprise you. "You okay? I saw you storm off."

You shrugged. "Yeah, I'm fine. I thought you wouldn't come."

He furrowed his brows slightly. "Why?"

You shrugged, tugging on his arm so you could sit down on the steps leading to the garden, trying your best that your skirt wouldn't ride up. "You hate high school parties."

"What's to like from annoying music and people I can't stand being around?" He asked sarcastically making you chuckle. "I was dreading this, but Osman needed us here." He concluded before taking a long sip of his beer.

You nodded. "Yeah, I can't believe we convinced Işik. But it's not that bad."

He glanced at you, absentmindedly fumbling with his hands while you continued sipping on your soda. "You look nice."

It was no secret around your friends how much Sinan adored you. You were the only one he never snapped at unless he was really angry, but he usually kept his emotions at bay. Everybody noticed how his mood changed around you. Everybody but you, not thinking much about how he always seemed to have a faint smile when you were in the same room or how he truly appreciated that you went out of your way to talk to him at least once every day.

You gave him a side smile. "Thanks." You eyed him up and down, wearing his usual grey shirt, black jeans, and combat boots. "You don't look that bad either."

After a few minutes passed and it started to get cold, he nudged you. "Wanna go back inside?"

"Um..." You trailed off even if you truly wanted to go back with the rest. "I'm fine, you go ahead if you want. I'll catch up with you."

He furrowed his brows. "Are you sure you're fine? You seemed pretty upset before." He doubted for a moment while you looked down at the floor. "If you want to leave, we..."

"No." You interrupted shaking your head.

You certainly didn't want to leave. But you knew you couldn't avoid Burak all night, and if you ran into him you would end up snapping at him.

An idea popped into your head, remembering how Burak had left Eda alone when Kerem faked being his boyfriend. "I mean...can you do me a favor?"

It was risky to ask him, but Kerem was already dating Eda and Osman was busy with his business, the main reason why you all were there. And it was only a simple favor, you could hide your true feelings like you had the past weeks.

He shrugged, taking another sip of his beer. "What?"

You gave him a grin trying to convince him to follow your plan. "Can you pretend to be my boyfriend? Please."

He almost choked on his beer, coughing a bit while looking at you with utter confusion. "What the hell?"

"Burak has been annoying me all week and this is the only way he'll leave me alone. Please, Sinan. Just pretend to be my date." You continued, giving him your softest puppy eyes.

He scoffed, looking away to avoid your look. "Don't look at me like that." He mumbled.

"Like what?" You played dumb, continuing looking at him like that so he'd give in.

"Like you've never broken a plate in your whole life." He replied sarcastically. "Why don't you just tell him to fuck off?"

You rolled your eyes. "I've already tried to. Come on, it's only one night. I would do the same for you." You practically begged him.

You expected him to get up and leave, saying that your plan was crazy and didn't have any probability of going right. However, after a few seconds, he sighed and gulped down most of his beer, leaving the empty can next to him. "Fine."

While you smiled and mentally cheered, he turned to you. "What do you need me to do?"

"Improvise." You said like it was obvious. "Just um, flirt with me and act like I'm your girlfriend. It can't be that hard."

Noticing that he still seemed unsure of everything and wasn't really sure of what to do, you continued. "Look, from now on, we aren't friends, we're in a relationship. So, just act like I’d believe everything and lie to me."

He thought about it for a few seconds before nodding, getting up from his spot, and extending his hand to help you get up. When Sinan's fingers skimmed over your wrist gently, you rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand tightly.

"You're not my friend anymore, remember?" You teased before dragging him inside the house.

The stares you two received while walking straight to the kitchen were enough to tell you that you had made the right decision. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Burak staring at you intensely ignoring whatever one of his friends was blabbering on about to him. You could feel that Sinan also noticed that, pulling you closer to him by wrapping an arm around your waist. You almost shivered once you felt his cold hand on the small spot of skin just above your skirt, but you didn't think much about the sparks that ignited at the skin on skin contact.

Once you two reached the kitchen, you grabbed a beer and a soda, handing the alcohol beverage to Sinan who quickly downed it while you sat on the counter, your hands still intertwined.

Eda quickly joined you two. "There you are!" She grinned at you, clearly already a bit tipsy. "Aw, you're holding hands, did you tell him?" She gushed to you, loud enough for him to hear.

You chuckled awkwardly, disconnecting your hands while covering the girl's mouth. "Yes, I told him about Burak." You gritted out, already sure that your cheeks had to be red. "You're already wasted, don't do anything I wouldn’t do." You grinned playfully at the boy, receiving a timid smile from him.

"So you guys are dating now." Eda continued leaning against the counter, a smirk on her face. "That's cool."

"I'll take care of her." Sinan offered, already annoyed with her.

After a few seconds, you nodded, leaving your spot on the counter once you noticed Işik nearby, your eyes lighting up. "Işik, let's dance!"

You weren't sure how many hours had passed that you had been dancing with Kerem and Osman, but after a while, your legs ached from twirling around Işik, so you walked away from the living room to the hallway where there weren't many people.

"(Y/N)!"

A voice calling you out made you stop dead in your tracks, turning around with a fake smile plastered on your face even if you were internally gagging.

"Burak, I didn't see you before." You greeted him, continuing to walk towards the kitchen.

He just followed you, making you roll your eyes when he wasn't staring at you. "You look pretty."

"Mhm." Was all you replied, looking through the fridge to find at least a bottle of water, already knowing that if you left Sinan and Eda alone they had downed at least five more beers each one.

"Here, let me help you with that." He offered as you struggled with four bottles of water.

"I'm fine." You cut him off with confidence. "I've got it, and my friends and boyfriend are waiting for me, so..." You trailed off.

Taking to your advantage the fact that he was too shocked to say anything else, you managed to escape, making a beeline to were your friends were standing in a corner of the room.

"Here you go." You said handing a bottle to Işik, Eda, and Sinan. "I figured it would help if you have a migraine." You explained standing next to Sinan.

He nodded, a faint smile on his face as you wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Osman left after saying he had to do something, and you soon found yourself alone with the boy again after Işik said she was going to the bathroom and Eda dragged Kerem to dance with her.

You sipped absentmindedly on your water. "Thanks for everything, I owe you one."

He shrugged, clearly not bothered by it but you weren't sure if it was because of his emotionless attitude or something else.

Once you'd finished your water, you turned to him. "Come, let's dance."

"No, (Y/N)." He refused immediately shaking his head.

"Sinan, I'm not going to leave you here alone." You persisted, continuing to pull him by his hand.

He wouldn't budge. "I'm already here, dancing crosses the line."

"You can't only come and drink everything that's alcohol."

"I..."

"Not much of a boyfriend, huh?"

Burak's teasing voice made you stop abruptly, glancing at Sinan who only looked at him with a hard stare.

"I'm just saying, I wouldn't leave (Y/N) alone if she was my girl." He continued.

"Well, she isn't yours." Sinan snapped, trying to appear unbothered by him but with a scowl on his face.

You tugged in his arm. "Sinan, let's leave."

"What are you even doing here?" Burak asked sarcastically. "You hate everybody, I'm sure she convinced you to come. Too bad, who knows what could happen to her here..."

You knew those were just empty threats, so while you scoffed and tried to tug him to leave, Sinan only pushed you behind him slightly, making you release your grip on his arm.

"If you even touch a hair on her head I..." Sinan began with his hands balled into a fist.

"Sinan, please. Just cut it off." You tried to argue.

Nevertheless, you already knew he wouldn't listen. He was furious, his jaw clenched, stormy eyes and sending daggers to the boy in front of him.

Burak only snickered. “Tell me, I want to know.” He taunted, getting right into his face. “What are you going to do about it? You’re just going to let me continue flirting with her?”

You rolled your eyes. “Fuck off.”

“Maybe if you relied more on mental strength instead of muscular strength you would have gotten a chance.” Sinan shot back sarcastically.

Burak shoved him, lifting his fist in the air but before he could even punch him, Sinan tackled him into the ground to punch him. You froze, watching how Sinan’s fist hit Burak over and over again until Burak punched his side, making him lose his breath before he pulled Sinan in a chokehold.

“Stop! Stop it, you guys, stop it!” You tried to move towards them to break them apart, stopping once a pair of arms wrapped around her waist.

“Stay out of it,” Osman advised, his eyes staring sullenly at the fight. “You’re only going to get yourself hurt. Işik, hold her.” He called out.

“What’s going on?” The girl asked confused once Osman handed you to her, going straight at the fight to stop it. “Oh my God.” She mumbled, shock on her eyes.

Kerem and Osman broke them apart along with a few other guys. You only could gasp in surprise once you saw Sinan and his bruised cheekbone, along with the cut on his eyebrow.

“Hey, hey, come here. You’re fine.” You tried to comfort him, looping an arm around his shoulders just like Osman.

You couldn’t help but furrow your brows at how he seemed to wince while you tried to get out of the house as fast as possible, not wanting another fight to happen.

You wouldn’t let him out of your sight, so you continued with your arm wrapped around his shoulders, him not complaining but supporting almost his whole body on you.

“We’re not going to fit in.” Işik pointed out once you reached Kerem’s car.

You knew Sinan would just brush it off and say he was fine, but you wouldn’t allow him. “It’s fine, I um...we’ll take a taxi and stop by a pharmacy first. You should go first.”

Before anyone could complain, Eda, still drunk, chuckled. “You two are so cute together.”

You nodded absentmindedly, trying your best to hold Sinan who seemed to still be catching his breath. “Yeah, go and sleep in the back of the car. Take care of her.”

“We will. You take care of him.” Kerem said before getting into the car.

“Bye.”

“See ya!”

“Goodnight.”

Once they left, you sighed, a bit nervous that the boy hadn’t said a word yet. “Come, let’s sit there.”

You slowly walked towards a bench in front of a park. After a few minutes, you reappeared with a bottle of rubbing alcohol and some cotton balls after rushing to a nearby pharmacy.

“Give me your hands.” Your ordered, feeling something break inside of you while you scanned his knuckles with fresh blood and open wounds scattered across them. “Fuck.”

He only pursed his lips, his brows slightly furrowed as he tried not to show how he truly felt until he couldn’t anymore. While you continued cleaning his knuckles, a shaky cough made you stop.

You raised your brow at him. “Lift your shirt.”

He didn’t have any intentions of doing so, his eyes still staring ahead of him before he coughed again. “Sinan, do it.” You ordered again tugging at the end of his shirt.

The red bruises scattered along his abdomen made your breath hitch in the back of your throat, instantly holding your still cold bottle of water against them. “Where did you get those bruises? Oh my God.”

“When Osman held you and Burak pinned me to the ground.” He explained under your worried gaze. “I’m fine, what about you?”

You scoffed. “You aren’t fine. Drink this.”

You handed him your bottle of water, sighing once you noticed the trace of blood coming from his eyebrow, cleaning with your thumb before it reached his cheekbone.

“I’m sorry you got into a fight because of me.” You said softly, your fingers lingering on the bruise on his cheek.

You cupped his face, Sinan instantly leaning into your touch. He had thought about it before, how it would feel to be this close to you, and now it was happening.

“How was I supposed to keep calm when he said that about you?” He asked, his jaw clenching again as he remembered Burak’s words.

You brushed it off, your thumb stroking his cheek to try to comfort him with a simple gesture. “I’m used to it, don’t worry. I don’t care anymore about what he says, he’s an asshole.”

“God, don’t say that.” He furrowed his brows before swallowing. “You shouldn’t be treated like that by anyone.”

His whole body was tense and his breathing was heavy, so you tried to make him listen to you so he would forget about everything. “Hey, just...focus on me, okay?”

He used all his willpower to nod, to not go right at the house again, and continue beating Burak up. "How was the party? Everything you expected?"

"No." You bluntly stated making him chuckle. "What about you? Did you have the awful time you expected?"

He gave you a side smile. "Not really, but I'm never doing it again."

"What? Faking to be my boyfriend?" You teased rubbing your eyes, too tired to care about your mascara probably now smudged.

When he didn't answer and only stared at you with a different expression you decided to take a leap of faith.

You slowly leaned forward, closing the gap between the two you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling your heart on fire while his mind raced, in disbelief that you were actually kissing him. One of his hands found the back of your head, fingers twisting in your hair as he pushed you closer to him, deepening the kiss. You felt his other hand on your lower back, just where your shirt ended.

After a few seconds, you broke apart first, your forehead leaning against his while you held his hand.

"Oh." You chuckled noticing how Sinan's poor lips were now covered in the red lipstick you were wearing and a bit swollen.

You used your thumb to clean it off, almost not noticing the small smile on his face.

"Let's get a taxi, shouldn't we?" He asked.

You nodded and stood up, the boy's arm around your waist keeping you closer to him. With your heart still beating more than usual, you couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if he had followed his instincts and hadn't come to the party.

#love 101 #love101 #burcu #kerem #eda #osman #sinan #ask 101 #aşk101imagine #aşk 101 #aşk 101 imagine #aşk101 #love101imagine #love 101 imagine #sinanimagine #sinanxreader

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4birds-of-a-feather · 3 years

Text

Chapter 27 - Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight (when it’s exactly twelve o’clock that night) [part 5]

Birds Of a Feather

A bit late because we wanted to update on occasion of Jeff Ament’s birthday but it’s the thought that counts, right? ✨ Hope you’re gonna enjoy this, thanks for your patience!

(In the previous chapters: after Mike has made her reason, Layla has decided to finally do something about her crush on Eddie; Sara has been enjoying Demri’s company but her mood has been ruined by finding Jeff with another girl in what’s been her room for the last weeks; Stone has witnessed the entire scene and, after some failed attempts by Layla, is resolute to make Sara come out from the bathroom where she has locked herself up)

“There you are!” Eddie came up behind Layla’s back as she was chatting with a guy and a girl who told her they were going to be part of the band’s crew during their first actual tour. She had known for a while that the guys were about to leave to play some gigs outside Seattle but somehow she kept thinking about it as something happening in a much more distant future. Talking with the crew members she realized they were going to go to Canada in a little more than a week and, in less than a month, they’d be off to California. She was thinking about Eddie and the fact she’d be missing him and also that she and Sara would probably be back to their own apartment soon. When she heard him call her she got startled because it was like her thoughts materialized right there beside her. She turned around and saw him standing there, holding two glasses of what looked like red wine, lips curled up in a kind of goofy smile “Did I scare you?” “Hehe no, I just didn’t hear you coming” she awkwardly replied and took one of the glasses from his hands. <It’s a party, it’s loud, you’re not supposed to hear anything, you didn’t need to point that out> “Wine! Good idea! Hey Smitty, let’s go get some for the midnight toast as well” the girl told her friend as they exchanged an obvious look. “I’ve been doing toasts with Cready the whole evening, I can’t miss the big one. By the way, where is he?” “No idea, let’s go find him” she dragged him out of the way and left Eddie and Layla alone. “So…” Layla smiled at him and started to talk but didn’t know how to continue and hoped he would say something to fill the however pleasurable silence. “So… what about Sara? Where is she?” Eddie thought that if Layla wasn’t right outside that door anymore then things must have been settled. “Oh. She’s still in there, with Stone. He’s trying to talk her into starting the new year in a room that’s not the bathroom” she shrugged and took a sip. “Stone? And why did you leave it to Stone to solve the mystery?” the singer asked suspiciously, since he knew the two girls were inseparable and Layla sounded weirdly annoyed all of a sudden. For a fleeting moment he thought she could be jealous but immediately laughed at the idea. “He confessed he was the one who made her upset” “It’s Stone’s fault then? It’s always Stone’s fault” “He told her Scorsese is overrated and you know she’s a little touchy on the movie department” “Ouch! Yeah, hehe, I guessed. So, she likes Coppola and Scorsese too” Eddie tilted his head like he was assigning new interesting information to his memory and drank some wine while the girl stopped right before drinking. “How do you know she likes Coppola?” “Oh well, ehm, because… because she said it. Not like she told me directly but I think I heard her mentioning him a couple of times” “I see…” “IT’S ALMOST MIDNIGHT, YOU FUCKERS! GO AND GET YOURSELF SOMEONE AND CHOOSE CAREFULLY WHO YOU WANT TO ENTER THE NEW YEAR WITH!” Cornell turned down the music for a second to yell his announcement, then turned it up straight away. Eddie and Layla turned their heads to watch Chris just like everybody else in the room and, when the music was back on and their eyes met, the awkward silence was back on. “Err, any particular New Year’s Eve’s tradition in France?” Eddie mentally kicked himself as he spoke. <What the fuck did I just say??> “Oh, well, yeah, there are many traditions for nouvel an” she answered, taken aback by the question. “I’m all ears” “Well, people usually go to the réveillon, that is the New Year’s Eve party, all dressed up for the special occasion” “And I see you respected the tradition perfectly” the guy was feeling he was making a fool of himself with Layla but couldn’t help it. “Thanks. Mmm and well, to ring in 1991 the French way the wine in our glasses should be sparkly but I prefer red so I can make an exception” “I prefer red too” Eddie was thinking less about the wine he was drinking and more about the color of Layla’s top. “And, you know, at the stroke of midnight… everybody wish each other a happy new year and kiss” “Lovers kissing at midnight is a tradition that goes beyond borders, I guess” he watched as couples were starting to appear all around them and felt the urge to drink a little more. “But it’s not about lovers only, everybody kisses everybody” “WHA-” “... On the cheeks” “Ah!” “Hehe, lovers usually s’embrassent sous le gui” Layla added giggling at Eddie’s funny face. “That is…? They kiss… like idiots?” “They kiss under the mistletoe” she explained. “Isn’t that on Christmas?” “In France it’s a New Year’s Eve thing” she drank up what was left of her glass of wine and realized she hadn’t thought about putting any mistletoe branch in the apartment. <It wouldn’t have made any difference but…> “No mistletoe here though” Eddie said, almost mirroring her thoughts. “And no lovers either. At least, on my part” she sighed as she scanned the living room and noticed people already kissing without the need to wait for midnight or to have mistletoe hanging over their heads. “Same for me” their eyes met again and totally unexpectedly they both burst out laughing at the same time. “We’re such losers” Layla stated as she was catching her breath. “We can always enter the new year kissing each other’s cheek like the losers we are” “Agreed!” Layla and Eddie shook hands “But being losers, we also need more wine to enter 1991 properly” “Your wish is my command, Miss Boulais” he offered her his arm and she gladly took it as they made their way together to the drinks table.

♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️

“You’ve been too harsh with Mike, Gossrad… I would have suggested my ex-apartment but the plumbing is fucked up, just like the electrical system and everything else” “No worries, I’m sure he has already charmed one of your neighbors – it’s a quality I envy him, to be honest” the guitarist sighed “C’mon, Sara, let me in” “I wanna be alone, is that such a hard concept to grasp? I hate New Year’s Eve, this is my normal mood for this day” “But you were totally fine before… has something happened to you?” “Well, I’m a great actress whose strongest suit is feigning happiness… now, seriously, nothing has happened: you must leave me alone, please” He couldn’t see her but the way she had just said that last word struck something within him. “Scirea” “... what did you say?” “I said Scirea, you fool!” “No, you mangled that word, you big fuckin’ idiot!” the girl almost growled “And that was a low blow, you shouldn’t have said it” “Desperate times call for desperate measures… C’mon, now you have to let me in, you can’t go back on your word” “I can’t believe you still remember it after all these years…” “I know, right? It’s just a code word that forces one of us to do whatever the other one wants, nothing remarkable” “Just like your pronunciation, genius” she quickly retorted, making Stone snort. “So? What are you waiting for?” “You know you just blew the chance to use it for the rest of the year, right?” “Well, according to my watch I can survive this: it’s a quarter to midnight, after all” “Suit yourself,” Sara declared, finally peeping out from a crack in the door that she had just cautiously opened “but next year I’ll have two free passes to the word and it’s mandatory, ok?” “Deal” he smiled at her and followed her inside the room, then closed the door behind them.

“Hey, what time is it?” he heard the question as if it was coming from a distant voice but it actually came from the person right beside him. It was probably due to the loud music playing at the party but mostly to the fact that his mind was somewhere else, just like his eyes, which were searching through the crowd in the living room. At some point he looked further ahead through the foil curtain and noticed some kind of commotion near the bathroom. He clearly saw Eddie and Layla leave one after the other. Then the bathroom door opened once again and someone let Stone in. He didn’t see who was inside, but caught a glimpse of a blue silhouette and didn’t like it at all. “Jeff?? Are you deaf?” “Huh?” he immediately came back from his frozen zoned-out state and looked at the blonde right next to him, who was giving him both a perplexed and amused glance “... It’s almost 1991, I guess”

“You know he died, right?” “Who?” Stone shifted in his seat, turning to look at the girl. They were both sitting on the floor, with their backs leaning against the door. “Scirea… last year, in a car accident” “Oh, I didn’t know” “Yeah, you never were a big soccer fan” Sara hugged herself “It’s a pity, he surely deserved much more fame” She then kept on rambling about his fate, what had caused his death, what kind of a job he was doing for Juventus and God knows what else; Stone couldn’t care less about soccer, that was true, but he listened to every single word without interrupting her: if babbling about deceased soccer champions kept her from wallowing in her own misery, he wouldn’t mind spending the next hours listening to her. Not at all.

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me??” Steve shook his head as he watched Layla and Eddie laugh together straight in front of him; in the meantime, somebody else was sitting near him and singing to himself. “When I was young, I never needed anyone…” “I can’t believe she hasn’t been single in like forever and now that I gave up putting the moves on her she’s fuckin’ single, for fuck’s sake?!” “And making love was just for fun…” “Oh shut up Elias, you’re probably still a virgin!” someone shouted behind the guy, who kept getting more and more dramatic and louder in his solo performance. “Those days are gone…” “And she’s already hooking up with some other guy – I mean, so much for being a devoted girlfriend” “Living alone, I think of all the friends I’ve known…” Elias drunkenly went on and put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I’m not your friend, man” “But I’m everything you’ve got left so I wouldn’t be so rude, you know?” Elias retorted really quickly before singing again “When I dial the telephone, nobody’s home” “You don’t even have a phone anymore, Dave said you forgot to pay the bill!” Matt said passing him by. The red haired guy just gave him the middle finger and screamed at the top of his lungs: “ALL BY MYSEEEEEELF” “Oh, Jesus Christ” Steve facepalmed while everybody in the room looked at Elias and laughed. “DON’T WANNA BE ALL BY MYSELF ANYMORE” “I can’t believe even Lukin scored someone and I’m stuck here with you” he pointed at the couch where his bandmate was busy tongue-wrestling a goth girl. “UH! I LOVE THIS SONG!” Layla yelled out of nowhere and for a second the guitarist thought she was referring to Elias’ rendition but then he realized she meant the song by The Church that had just come up from the big stereo in the living room. She was dragging Eddie towards the center of the room when Elias tapped Steve on his shoulder. “Shall we dance?” he asked with a hiccup. “... I need a fuckin’ drink”

Sometimes, when this place gets kind of empty Sound of their breath fades with the light

“This song…” “It was Layla’s idea, she specifically requested it” “Typical El: she has good taste in music but lacks some ability in the mixtape department… I hope she hasn’t asked you to put on some Dylan or Cohen as well” “Hell, that would spoil the party” “Lambada, on the other hand… no contest, c’mon” Sara exclaimed in a theatrical way, making the guitarist sneer. “Admit it, I brightened your whole evening!” “More like ruined it, champ” “Don’t think you can fool me, missy; I saw you before, when you were rambling on some astrological bullshit with Demri: you were practically grinning from ear to ear” “I told you, I’m a fairly good actress”

I think about the loveless fascination

“Jeez, Sara, is it so hard for you to just admit you were perfectly fine before? And then something happened – and you don’t wanna tell me what it was exactly – and-” he gesticulated, pointing out the bathroom and her “and you ended up here, all alone during New Year’s Eve” “I told ya, this is normal for me… I don’t enjoy New Year’s Eve and hate parties, so put the two together and you end up with my archnemesis” she shrugged, but wasn’t able to meet his gaze. “You’re impossible! I saw you running in here, ok?! I saw you and I’m still doing it right now, when nobody else is giving a shit about you!” he blurted out, and she was taken aback. “What the fuck do you mean?? What, you saw me having a mental breakdown and want me to thank you because you ran here like a knight in shining armor?! Fuck off, Stone! Just what am I supposed to do to make y’all understand you have to leave me alone?! Tell me, what-” the girl stopped because she felt her voice already quivering. <Fuckin’ great, Fancini! Have yourself a good cry, given how it’s been hours since you last cried your eyes out! And do it in front of somebody who probably still appreciated you and now will lose all the respect he had for you! Great fuckin’ job, you outdid yourself> “Hey… hey, it’s ok” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder, but she pulled back. “Nothing’s ok, understood? Nothing! And it’s all because he...” she finally sobbed, her eyes immediately watering like they had wanted to do ever since she had turned that goddamn light on. <... ever since that July afternoon>

Under the Milky Way tonight

“Forget about him, ok? Let’s not talk about him” the guy kept on babbling. “How… how can you ask me to forget him?” she snapped out of it and recoiled, shooting him a glance full of both desperation and disgust for what he had just said. “Ok, then you don’t have to forget him,” he rolled his eyes, mustering all the patience he could “but we can talk about someone more important – you” “Me? More important? What’s that supposed to mean?” “It means that you’ll stay silent and I’ll say every single thing that makes you awesome and hopefully you won’t feel like shit anymore” “Then you can cut it out already, there’s nothing you can say that can make me feel better” the girl hid her face between her knees, hugging her legs “And it would only be a waste of time, I haven’t done a single positive thing in years… I’m just tired, I wanna be alone”

Lower the curtain down on Memphis Lower the curtain down, alright

“You’re so articulate and well-spoken it honestly puts to shame a lot of men who think you aren’t worthy of their time, and somebody should seriously tell ‘em it’s actually them who don’t deserve to waste your time” the guitarist cleared his throat, then resumed speaking without looking at her “The way your mind works… you can have a conversation about everything, there isn’t a single topic you can’t tackle – and yeah, I’m talking about science too: you may have been terrible at it in school, but outside? Whenever the newspaper had a story on the latest scientific discovery, you were always the first of us to know it” He heard her sniffle quietly and took her silence as a sign to keep on going.

I got no time for private consultation

“You’re always unapologetically yourself, for better or worse; you stand up for yourself and the ones you love, but also for people you don’t know at all – hell, you must be the bravest person I know” he heaved a sigh, his eyes never leaving the tile they had been staring at for the past five minutes “You’re a force to be reckoned with, truly you are… and I know you always carry some snacks in your backpack so you can feed stray cats – a shitty person doesn’t do that” At those words the girl raised her head immediately and looked at him with wide eyes: “How…?”

Under the Milky Way tonight

“Five years ago… every time a Queen song came on the radio, I used to think of you and what you might be doing in Florence: were you still attending gigs? Did you speak Italian with an American accent, just like you spoke English with an Italian accent? Did you still fly into a rage if anybody said that Hot Space was a shitty album?” he had ignored her previous question, but now finally found the courage to turn and look her in the eye “Did you still have that half dimple when you smiled all embarrassed? You know that kind of smile, the tight-lipped one”

Wish I knew what you were looking for

“Please, don’t look at me!” Sara immediately turned away, almost shrieking “I’m a monster: I have a runny nose and I’m sure my make-up is all smudged” The guitarist put his hands on her shoulders and made her face him again, then started to wipe her nose with some toilet paper. “... I look like a fucked-up panda, don’t I?” she muttered after a while, finally regaining her voice. “You just have a nose as cute as a button and as red as the one of a certain reindeer, the rest is just like it was before… oops, except for the eyes” “What? What is it?? They’re red, aren’t they?? Fuck, I’m not ready to say goodbye to my reputation as a badas-” “They’re shining, brat” he poked her nose with his index “Crying apparently suits you, but I’d appreciate it if in the future it’ll happen because you’re laughing too much” “Oh, shush” she pouted and shoved him, making him chuckle because avoiding her pushes was becoming increasingly harder but, most of all, because her half dimple had just appeared on the right corner of her mouth.

Might have known what you would find

After a while Stone was finally able to stop her, taking her hands in his without looking away. “Ever since I’ve known you, the ending of Chaplin’s City Lights has been able to move me, because before I didn’t understand it… I had never experienced what the Tramp goes through with the flower girl” he sighed and gave her a sad smile, slightly squeezing her hands “I don’t get tired of you the way I get tired of other people”

And it’s something quite peculiar Something shimmering and white

“Stone, what-what are you trying to tell me?” the girl looked quizzically at him but squeezed back his hands. “I don’t know,” he raised a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear “what do you think it is?”

It leads you here, despite your destination

Neither of them could tell who had been the first one to move, but now Sara was straddling him and he was holding her face in his hands and they were kissing – heavily. She could still hear the song faintly playing in the background, but all she could focus on right now was how Stone had been looking at her, the feeling of his lips against her own and the way he was still holding her, like she was the most precious thing he had ever laid eyes on. She touched his cheek and felt it was smooth, almost boyish (not strong and stubbly as the one she would have liked to stroke), and the realization made her angry; she instinctively proceeded to run her fingers through his hair, eliciting a moan from him, and pictured a pair of hazel eyes behind her eyelids that turned immediately into green ones. She shut her eyes with all her might until all she could see were lazy stars, then dizzily abandoned herself to passion, as if she were living somebody else’s life.

Under the Milky Way tonight

#eddie vedder #Jeff Ament #Pearl Jam #eddie vedder fanfiction #pearl jam fanfiction #grunge fanfiction #jeff ament fanfiction #Birds of a Feather #chapters

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justice4harwin · 4 years

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All Too Well

Summary: Johnny Lawrence was a troubled guy, very few people could get him to let his guard down.

Series if one shots telling the story of the one girl who made him happy.

Part 1: Johnny takes Noelia home to meet his mom.

Late April/Early May 1983

Johnny would never admit it out loud, but he was nervous the first time he bought Noelia home to meet his mom. He had picked her up from home, since she still didn’t have a license and her parents needed the car to go to work anyways, and kept his eyes on the road for most of the trip.

He should've said something. Like how pretty she looked in her pale pink dress, or how nice her hair looked that day (not that it ever looked anything but). Instead, all he managed was a curt “Hey” and he pressed on the gas immediately, not even giving her time to put on her seatbelt.

She had an attractive lemon pie in her lap, zealously cradled in her hands. It looked good. It looked so damn good, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth, afraid that his voice would shake.

“Do you mind if I switch stations?” she asked, to which he shrugged, and didn’t even complain when that pop shit began to stink his car. He made a face though, and she giggled. He cracked a small smile of his own, and the tension seemed to ease.

When they pulled up to his house, she paled, eyeing the place up and down.

“Uh,...wow.” she mumbled, so soft he almost didn’t catch it. She began to fidget in her seat. “Nice place.”

“Thanks.” he replied, lamely.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither really knowing how to proceed. He knew he should get out of the car, open the door for her and hold the pie so she could get out, but it was like his ass was glued to the leather seat, as if Duth had finally taken revenge from the time he and Jimmy made him get stuck to his bike seat.

“Johnny, are you sure this is a good idea?”

He turned. Noe was already looking at him, the green flecks in her eyes standing out in an almost unnatural way, as usual. It was hard to focus with eyes like those.

“What?”

“This.” her eyes deviated to the house for a fraction of a second before returning to him. “I don’t think your mom will like me. This is,...I don’t,...” she sighed and uttered something to herself he didn’t understand. “Look, I don’t belong in places like these, unless I’m the help, that is.” the last part came out low and sardonic, but he wasn’t that dumbstruck by her hotness to not catch it.

“Hey, no, c’mon, Noe, don’t say that.” he smiled in what he hoped was an encouraging manner, but her skeptical face told him of the results. “My mom’s been begging me to bring you home.” that wasn’t a lie. Laura had taken to ask every morning if that day was the day she’d meet the lucky girl who put a smile on her boy’s face. He wished she had relented a little, especially the particular day when Jimmy had stayed overnight. The guys still made fun of him. “Seriously, there’s nothing to worry about.” Except his asshole stepfather, but mom had promised he’d be nice. She always kept her promises, but Sid was known for not giving a shit about anything. He knew Laura would forgive him. “Especially with that pie you got.” he reached down to try and lift the lid in the hopes of snatching a few berries, but Noelia’s hand slapped his away. He chuckled and nodded towards the house. “C’mon, I promise it’ll go well. Besides, I already met your folks, so it’s only fair you meet mine.”

Her relenting smile was all the answer he needed, so he got out of his firebird and quickly made his way to the other side, opening the door and accepting the plate she handed him.

She got out a little awkwardly and ran her hands over the skirt of the dress and her fingers through her hair. That last part was to no avail; it was always tangled.

He handed back the plate and closed the door, turning back to the house. To hide his trembling hands, he put one in his pocket and the other on Noe’s back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a curtain moving and held in a snort.

He let her walk in first, and barely closed the door when his mom appeared in the foyer, her blond hair flowing in soft waves, her long, flowery dress making her look like she was gliding rather than walking. She was smiling from her to ear, her blue eyes shining as she looked from her son to Noelia and back, taking in the scene as if it were a miracle come true or something.

He felt Noe tense up, and he softly squeezed her waist.

“Hey mom,” he cleared his throat and quickly hid his other hand again. “This is Noelia. Noe, this is mom, Laura.”

Laura clapped her hands together and put them against her cheek, positively delighted.

“Oh, I’m so happy to finally meet you, dear.” she stepped in front of Noe, who looked like a terrified deer, and proceeded to hug her gently. “I’ve been dying to meet you, but I see why Johnny wanted to keep you for himself.”

“Mom!”

Noe chuckled ungainly.

“It’s very nice to finally meet you, Mrs Lawrence.” she offered her the pie. “I hope you like lemon pie.”

“Oh, dear, you shouldn’t have.” she accepted the dessert and motioned towards the dining room. “It looks so good; where did you buy it?”

“I-I made it, ma’am.”

Laura’s eyes widened slightly.

“Well, now I’m even more excited to try it. Rosa? Could you put this in the fridge, please?”

The table had already been set up for four people, and the first course was being laid out. He knew they were almost late, but that was because someone, ehem, decided to change outfits six times. He had a feeling Noe had just been stalling.

She was looking around the place, the further they advanced the more she pressed herself to his side. He had some idea as to what she was thinking. The place was bigger than her parent’s apartament in Reseda.

He pulled the chair back for her and gently back in before taking his seat to her right. Across from the table, he saw his mother hiding a grin behind a glass of wine.

The seat at the head of the table remained empty, and something told Johnny that Sid would be making an entrance, as usual.

Laura didn’t even look in that direction, placing her forearms on the edge of the table and looking at Noelia.

“So, tell me dear, you moved here about a year ago, right?”

How did she even knew that? Probably Ali or one of her friends.

“Yes, ma’am. My parents and I used to live in Wisconsin.”

“Oh please, call me Laura, dear.” she waved a hand to rest importance to the matter. “And how are you liking it so far?”

“It’s great not having winter anymore.”

His mom kept firing questions, but Johnny relaxed, and little by little, so did Noe. His mom didn’t have a mean bone to her, and her curiosity was starkly genuine. As the minutes passed between them, everyone seemed to forget about Sid’s tardiness. Johnny bent his leg, placing his foot on the seat and an arm around Noe’s chair, joining the conversation here and there. He kept playing with her locks, gently pulling at them here and there, waiting for her to turn with a fake annoyed expression only to play the fool.

Noe was just telling his mom about her singing lessons when they heard the front door slam shut. His girl was the only one to jump, startled, while everyone else remained impassive, having grown too used to Sid’s antics long ago.

He strode into the room, already complaining. Johnny was quick to sit properly, Noe turning to him when she felt the absence of his touch.

“I fired that jackass today. I had it with him!” he was saying, his obnoxiously loud voice not relenting even as he sat.

“Who, honey?” Laura was the only one whose mood didn’t seem too tainted by his presence.

“Barney!” he gave her a look Johnny didn’t appreciate, as if his mom were stupid for not guessing who he was talking about. Right, cause usually, Sid didn’t have anything bad to say about anyone, especially his employees.

“Oh, and what did he do?”

“The ungrateful bastard had the audacity to come ask me to reconsider his 'paternity leave'.”

Laura hesitated for a moment before forcing a smile onto her face.

“I’m sure you did the right thing.” Sid opened his mouth to keep going, but she cleared her throat and diverted her eyes towards him and Noe, who stared at his stepfather with her mouth slightly agape. “Honey, this is Noelia, Johnny’s girlfriend.”

“Uh. So she is real after all, eh?” he asked, looking her up and down. The cobra didn’t like that at all, so he leaned forward as casually as he could, hiding her at least partially. Sid’s eyes settled on him then. “Or did you have to pay her, boy?”

“Sid.” Laura sighed.

Johnny clenched his jaw.

“I didn’t.”

“Maybe not to come over tonight, but-”

“Oh, look! Dinner is ready.”

Rosa served them the first course as quietly and as quickly as she could, retreating back into the kitchen before Sid found a reason to yell at her as well.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, the teens keeping their eyes mostly on the plate in front of them.

As the main course was served, Laura spoke again.

“Honey, did I tell you that Noelia bought us dessert?” she smiled brightly at the girl, her approval too obvious. “She made it herself, and I’m sure it tastes as good as it looks.”

“Remember Bobby’s birthday, ma? Noe made his cake.”

Laura’s mouth hung open.

“Why, yes! It was simply divine. All those details! And so delicious!” she turned to Noe, beaming. “I didn’t know you made that as well.”

She nodded, returning her smile.

“Yeah; I like making birthday cakes, and Bobby’s mom couldn’t find someone on such short notice, so I offered.”

“Well, it was the talk of the party. It absolutely outshined the birthday boy.”

Noe chuckled as she reached for the glass. His mom wasn’t lying: that cake was the most delicious crap Johnny ever had. It had been a pity that she hadn’t made it to the party, but his boys made sure to let her know how well liked it had been, in great detail.

“So, I take it you like cooking as well as singing?”

Noe nodded more enthusiastically, and the blond teen smiled at her infectious mood.

“Yes! I love it! I was thinking of going to culinary school after I graduate. I thought about being a baker, but I think I’d prefer to be a chef.”

“Or you could be both?” Laura suggested. “Why limit yourself, dear?”

Sid snorted, and Johnny’s mood was ruined again.

“You want your son to marry a cook?” he asked his wife, pointing at him with his knife. He snorted again. “Like it’s not bad enough she’s a-”

“Watch it.” he warned, tense.

“-a gold digging, illegal mexican-”

“Sid!”

“I’m from Winsconsin.”

“Watch it, man!”

"Mom's Italian though…"

“-She also wants to 'work' in a kitchen.” he said it while doing air quotes. “As if serving someone else wasn’t denigrating enough.”

“C’mon, Sid.” Laura threw her napkin on the table, seeming tired of his crap. “Just stop it, please?”

“Why?! You know it’s the truth! Just look at your son?”

“Hey! Enough!”

“He’s a pathetic little loser. You think a hot piece of ass like that would go out with him for his personality?” he said the last word in a flamboyant way as he leaned over to her.

“Of course I do! Johnny’s a lovely boy.”

“He’s a loser! A good for nothing,...”

Sid and his mom kept on going back and forth, but Johnny didn’t listen anymore. Out of instinct, he reached to his left for his walkman and found Noe’s leg instead. Before he could retreat his hand, she had grabbed it with both of hers, holding his in a tight but comforting grip.

They kept staring at the windows in front of them. This was why he was so nervous. It wasn’t about his mom; he knew she’d love Noe, it was because of that asshole she married.

He just wanted a quiet night with his two favourite girls, as stupid as that sounded. He should’ve known it wouldn’t be a regular night in the Weinberg house if Sid didn’t throw himself into a monologue about how great it was that Johnny wasn’t his kid.

Rosa picked up the plates silently and quickly, but gave the young couple a sympathetic glance.

“Johnny, sweetie, why don’t you give Noelia a tour of the house?”

“Oh, great! Show her where the safe box is while you’re at it! Hell, I’ll just give her the code!”

“Un-belivable.”

The blond stood, not wasting time and pulling Noe up with him rather harshly. She kept her mouth shut as he led her out of the dining room and of the house all together.

He hurried to his car and opened the door for her, closing it with much more strength than he meant. He got into the driver's seat as well, Sid’s screaming muffled now, and turned on the engine.

He carelessly pulled out of the driveway and into the street, driving off with no real destination in mind.

Noe said nothing for several minutes, and neither did he.

Suddenly he jumped, almost losing control of the wheel, but didn’t react further as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry.”

He scoffed.

“Why’re you apologizing? He’s the one being a dickhead.”

“I know.” she pressed her lips into a thin line. “None of what he said it’s true, Johnny.”

He stopped at a red light and looked at her worried face, relaxing just a tiny bit.

“I know that, babe. Don’t worry. Sid hates everyone, and everyone hates him back, so he hates them even more and wants to make them as miserable as he is.”

“No, shit.” she chuckled. “I really liked your mom though.”

That lifted his spirits.

“She liked you too.”

“You think?” she sounded so hopeful.

“I know.”

He grabbed her hand and intertwined their fingers.

“Where are we going?”

“The guys said they’d be at the arcade. We could join them if you want?”

“So long as you buy me dinner, I’m sold.”

He was getting quite hungry as well.

“The usual?”

She smiled and nodded, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

He would never hear the end of it if his friends saw him at the moment.

#karate kid #johnny lawrence #karate kid fic #Johnny lawrence fanfiction #johnnyxnoelia #cobra kai #sid is an asshole #as usual #hope you all like it #let me know #fanfiction #the karate kid #karate kid fanfiction #laura Lawrence #young Johnny

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goldeneyedgirl · 4 years

Text

jaliceweek20 day 1: human/vampire

Title: Against A Wall (Part 1)

Prompt 1: Human/Vampire

Word Count: 3,851

Note: I’m going into hospital tomorrow, and I’ve run out of time to get this finished (so, so close but I need sleep). So I cut it in half in the most logical place.

As long as the JaliceWeek Mods don’t have an issue, I’ll finish off Part 2 and upload the whole fic to the AO3 collection around Tuesday when I’m feeling human and have a decent Wifi connection.

Fifteen.

He crouches behind Dewey’s Bar, spitting blood onto the pavement, and trying to pretend that whatever is seeping into his jeans is just water, and not runoff from the reeking dumpster beside him.

It’s Tuesday night, and Tuesdays are always the worst. Tuesdays are his mom’s night shifts at the VA hospital. Tuesdays are pay-day. Tuesdays are the only day his father doesn’t pull his punches.

His left cheek and eye are swollen and split, like overripe fruit. He can’t see real well, and the taste of aluminium foil in the back of his mouth makes him suspect another fracture around his eye.

But was it really a Tuesday night if cerebral fluid wasn’t leaking into his mouth?

He feels bad that his mother is going to walk in at five the next morning, exhausted, to find… well, to find Hettie and Flo asleep in Ava’s bed, as Ava studies and worries. To find Jasper’s bed empty, and Lydia’s too. To find the study door locked, no matter how long she knocks.

In fact, the only thing that Louise Whitlock won’t find when she gets home from work is the god-damned strength of will to leave her fucking husband.

Last time he said that to her face, she started to cry, and that made things worse.

It’s still early, which sucks. There are hours to go until it is safe to move, to drag himself to school, to shower in the locker rooms and get some food out of the vending machine and savour the fact that another Tuesday is behind him. Sheldon isn’t big enough for the other students and the teachers not to notice the bruises on his face, but it is small enough that everyone knows Jeremiah Whitlock, and no one is going to say anything to get him in trouble.

He could go find Lydia, hide in the tree-house, tell someone who wasn’t family or a local. But he always ends up behind Dewey’s. When he was a kid, it hadn’t just been a bar; it had been been Dewey’s Bar and Grill, and his grandfather used to take him there for fried chicken and ice cream. Dewey had been his Grandpa Jed’s best friend, but even in those halcyon days it hadn’t exactly been family-friendly.

It had become a dive bar sometime around the time Jasper finished middle-school, but it didn’t matter - by then, Dewey and Grandpa were dead, and he was too busy trying to protect himself and his sisters to eat ice cream.

He spits blood again, and rests back against the brickwork. Nothing for it; Tuesdays were always hell.

—

He tries to sleep, amongst the noise of passersby, and remain unnoticed - Jasper’s learnt the hard way that his uncles still frequent Dewey’s, and they will march him straight back home for round two, no matter what he says. Even when he came up with the strength to tell them, about Lydia and Jerry and Tuesday nights, his uncles just tell him to shut up, man up, and maybe Jerry wouldn’t have to whoop his ass.

He thinks of Lydia and hopes she’s somewhere warm and clean tonight. Lydia’s smart enough to stay away on Tuesday nights. Home is never Lydia’s first port of call any night of the week, but never, ever on Tuesdays.

He remembers the last Tuesday night she was home, two summers ago, when Lydia stormed upstairs, a twelve-year-old hurricane with fire in her eyes, and called their father a coward for beating the shit out of Jasper.

Jeremiah Whitlock hadn’t liked being called a coward. Not at all.

Now she is transient, a ghost sister who vanishes at day break; one who bunks down on couches and in treehouses before coming back to her own bed. Their mom and Ava worry about where Lydia gets her money, cigar-sized rolls of dollar bills that she keeps in a tampon box, but he knows.

He knows that his sharp and pointy little sister never let anything stop her, least of all hard work, and that a lot of people in town know that Jerry Whitlock has a lot of anger and a lot of disappointment that he tries to drown in cheap beer and cheaper whiskey. It just makes him angrier. If the only thing they can do is give Lydia Whitlock some work, well, that kid’ll cut the grass, paint the garage, and walk the dog for a few bucks and a drink from a spigot.

It’s easy to say that Lydia is the best of them, making it clear that she doesn’t need their shitty father or their tired mother, but they are all strong in different ways. Ava, who smiles and simpers at their father, waiting for that day when she can buckle Hettie and Flo into her car and take them with her to college in Houston with a middle finger raised in the air. Flo stays quiet, stays alert, darting and hiding when the moment comes, but whose slight of hand belongs to a survivalist magician. And sweet little Hettie, who never lived on the ranch and knew their parents when they were happy, is sunshine and laughter and innocence. The one that reminds them why they stick together.

He’s the boy, so his role is obvious and unquestioned: he takes the punches and slaps and kicks that were meant for their mom, for Lydia, for Flo. He mutters things under his breath so that Jerry doesn’t hear what his sisters are saying, forgets that Hettie is sniffling or that Lydia hasn’t been home in ten days or that their mother has burnt dinner.

He knows his place.

—-

If you asked anyone with the surname ‘Whitlock’, they’d tell you that the family was cursed.

Had been since the Civil War; the youngest son had run off and joined up. Tried to desert two months in, crying for his momma, and ran afoul of someone - or something. He was dead a month later, but no one was exactly sure if he’d been executed for desertion, or if he’d just got in the way of a Yankee bullet. Either way, his last letter was rambling and terrified of something he never named, and his cowardice was rewarded with his bloodline’s constant suffering.

Within the Whitlock family lore, the curse was held accountable for numerous failings - from great-great grandmother Edith running off with one of the Wilkerson boys, to little Brian dropping dead as a doornail one summer day after seven years of perfect health. It was the Whitlock Curse to blame the day the bank took the ranch away from Jasper’s own father.

It was the curse that had four and a half strapping brothers (Uncle Wyatt only counted as half since he went to the war in the Middle East and got himself blown up before he was even old enough to drink, and left behind a high school sweetheart with a bouncing baby girl they all called ‘Puddin’) father fifteen girls, and only one lousy boy.

Make no mistake about it, Jasper was a lousy heir to the Whitlock name. All three of his uncles reminded him of this every holiday season. Whitlock men were supposed to live and breathe the ranch, were supposed to be football players and champions. They were meant to knock up the head cheerleader and serve eight years in the army, like their brothers, fathers, uncles, and grandfathers before them.

Not snivelling little momma’s boys, who cried themselves to sleep when Sirius Black died, and could charm the birds from the trees. Not boys who helped their sisters catch rabbits, and keep them as secret pets, or name the house cat Socrates. Not boys who sat up all night when their horse had colic, and sit in the stable with her, begging and praying for her to be okay.

He tried, goddamnit. So hard. He was the best shot in the family (something that Uncle Bo had nearly hit him over, that one Thanksgiving. But everyone knew that Bo had the worst temper in the family.) Before things went to shit, he’d been a good student. He’d been able to convince the animals on the ranch to do anything. He was popular, without having any particular friends or putting much effort into it. He took care of his sisters.

But none of it was ever good enough.

Nothing ever was.

—

It’s Roy Lester that chases him off, before six the next morning. Roy runs the grocer next to Dewey’s, and went to school with his father and uncles - still had beers with them ever so often. The way he threatened Jasper and chased him off home whenever he caught him in the alley made Jasper think that they talked about him, and none of it flattering.

So he has to slink home because he stinks and he’s starving. The security at school won’t let anyone in before seven; he’s tried before; it’s not like he has much choice.

In a town like Sheldon, everyone knew everyone. You started kindergarten with maybe twenty other five year olds - most you probably already knew - and spent the next thirteen years with those same kids. You watched Maude Montgomery transform from the aesthetic-equivalent of Danny Devito to Jennifer Lawrence in a single summer, thanks to a late brush with puberty; you were right there when Casey Atkinson was put in a wheelchair and spent seventh grade learning to walk again. You knew that Ariel Turner was diabetic, Marley Harris was asthmatic, and you’d seen thirteen years of peanut-free lunches and birthday parties because Joey Thompson was highly allergic.

The joy of small towns.

Everyone knew that Jerry Whitlock hit his kids and his wife, but no one talked about it - not to their faces, at least. The adults tended to march Jasper home, to face his father’s wrath. The kids tended to get uncomfortable, and look through him. The few people who tried to reach out were from out of town, and were usually passing through - the odd teacher, a new neighbour, a concerned face on the bus.

Better to go home until school opened up.

Louise is in the kitchen, her face pinched and pale, clutching a cup of coffee. She looks hopeful when he walks in, but seems to crumple in on herself when she sees his bloody, swollen face. She looks old as she puts down her mug, and moves to pull him into a hug. He pretends not to notice her shuddering, as she cries onto his shoulder, before pulling away.

“I’ll make breakfast,” she manages, sniffling. “Okay? You must be hungry.”

He grunts and nods, as he heads upstairs. As if scrambled eggs and burnt toast can fix another Tuesday night.

But Wednesdays are good - the longest possible time until another Tuesday night.

He just has to keep telling himself that.

—

Seventeen.

Another Tuesday behind Dewey’s, but this time he’s puking up the few mouthfuls of food he managed before his father hauled him out the back - only because it was his mom’s week off and they were having a big family dinner. Louise resented those mid-week dinners; after a long day at work, having to make dinner for twenty-three people, and somehow find enough plates and chairs was the last thing she wanted to do. It was the only time Lydia would cross their father’s sight line, skinny and defiant.

If it had been a normal dinner, Jerry wouldn’t have dragged him out of the house. He would have beat him in the kitchen, yelling over Hettie’s sobs and Flo’s screams, and Louise’s pleading. He’s had a serving platter smashed over his head before, as well as a beer bottle, and a ceramic pitcher - one that had been made by Grandma Lillian, and Louise had sobbed over those broken shards.

His head is spinning, and he can’t remember exactly what he said to incite his father’s rage, though he remembers Uncle Bo’s jeers when he tried to stand up. The previous week’s wounds have reopened, and are bleeding onto his last decent t shirt. There’s vomit and alley-juice all over his jeans, and he wonders if he should drag himself to the hospital because his world is still spinning.

He wonders what will happen if he dies tonight; if Roy Lester finds him here in the morning, cold and dead. Most of the cops in town are from old families, and they’ve taken Lydia and Jasper back home enough times to know what goes on. It’s easier to picture the cover-up, that they’ll blame him and a make-believe schoolyard fight. Just a tragic accident.

Maybe then someone will help Lydia, help all of his sisters. Maybe it’ll be the thing that makes his mom leave.

He falls asleep facedown in the alley, and wants to cry when he wakes up the next morning to the bellow of school kids heading to the bus stop.

He was so goddamned close to it all being over.

So close.

—

“Do you need some help?”

It’s another Tuesday night, one that has come with busted ribs and possibly a dislocated shoulder. He missed lunch because of an English project, and his father had been drinking early, so he hasn’t eaten since breakfast. It’s making him feel sick, and wondering if anyone will notice if he sneaks in the back door of Dewey’s and grab some food.

And then someone is there and talking to him.

Her voice is high and sweet, and he expects a high school girl, maybe a sorority sister.

She is neither.

She’s only as tall as Flo, with uneven black hair curling around her cheeks. She’s one of the prettiest girls he has ever seen, with huge amber-coloured eyes that remind him of Hettie’s dolls and Lydia’s manga. She’s wearing a ragged button-up over a ruffled mini-skirt and leggings, with boots that look a size too big, a heavy man’s watch that hangs from her tiny wrist, and an ancient looking cadet’s cap - the entire effect makes him think of Oliver Twist as a female circus performer.

She walks over to him, and crouches in front of him, her head cocked to the side like a bird’s. He can only stare; other than the dark smudges under her eyes that speak of many sleepless nights, she is beautiful.

“Are you okay?” she asks, looking worried.

“Yeah,” he croaks, and winches as he jars his ribs. He doubles over, and cries out. She reaches out towards him but backs off just as suddenly.

“You’re hurt,” she says, looking bewildered and frightened. “Where?”

“I-It’s okay,” he manages, trying to reclaim his dignity in front of the prettiest girl. “I’ll be fine.”

The girl huffs. “Ugh, boys,” she mutters. “Hold on a second.” She gets up and slips out of the alley before he can beg her not to get help. In reality, going to the hospital is the last thing he should do - they can’t afford the bill, and they’ll call home and… no. Just no.

His head is spinning, so he finds it hard to tell how much time has passed, but eventually she returns. She’s clutching two bags, and marches right up to him and crouches back down.

“This will help,” she says, holding out painkillers and a bottle of water. He fumbles with the lids of both, but eventually swallows the pillows down. She watches him carefully. “Don’t drink too fast,” she advises. “Now, I can put your shoulder back in now, or we can wait. It’s up to you.”

He blinks at her slowly. “Now,” he decides.

“Okay,” she looks nervous, but moves forward. It’s all blurry in his mind, but there is something cold, then hot, angry pain, and then he’s blinking up at her again. “Sorry. But trust me, the worst is over now. At least I didn’t break it worse. Hungry?”

He blinks as she reaches for the other bag - a bag of Skittles, a packaged sandwich, two oranges, and a bag of potato chips. He’s not sure if he has a concussion or it’s an odd selection, but he’s also hungry enough that he doesn’t care.

“I nearly had to call Bella, to ask what to get - Edward never let me buy her food after the chicken incident - which was entirely Emmett’s fault - but I think I figured it out okay,” the girl jabbers, taking a seat beside him, and smiles at him. “Better no one knows where I am, anyway.”

“I… thanks,” he croaked, as he reached for the sandwich. She beams at him again, and then frowns.

“Eat, then we’ll finish patching you up. I’ve come too far to watch you die in this disgusting place,” she stretches her legs out in front of her.

The sandwich is dry, but he wolfs it down - an orange too, before he takes a breath - that hurts - and takes another look at the tiny girl beside him.

“Who are you?” he finally asks, and she looks up from her watch.

“Oh! I’m Alice,” she says. “Sorry, I forgot you didn’t know. Do you want your ribs taped now, or are you going to open those?” She points to the Skittles.

“Um, I…” he looks at the bag of candy. “Do you want some?” This feels like a fever dream; maybe he’s passed out and this is just what his banged-up brain has provided him with.

“No,” she shakes her head, and the cadet’s cap tilts a little on her head. “I can’t. They just looked nice. Happy.”

“Happy,” he echoes, looking at the red package.

“I hear that sometimes little things can help,” Alice says. “Come on, cowboy, take that shirt off and let me see those ribs.”

His side is mottled black and blue and purple, and moving in basically any direction is a new adventure in pain. Alice gasps at the sight, and then coos at him in a way that is oddly comforting as her fingers trace his ribs - the coldness of her fingers is actually wonderful against the pain. Then comes the painful stage - as she, not entirely gently enough, begins layering tape over the pain, his head is spinning.

“All done,” Alice says, and her voice is soft, and when he slumps against her shoulder, she doesn’t move away. She smells like old fashioned things, like roses and linen. It reminds him of the old family homestead. He finds his eyes closing, and his side aches in time with his heart, and then Alice’s gentle fingers are running through his hair.

“Sleep, Jasper,” she murmurs, “I’ll keep watch.”

He’s asleep before he realises he never told her his name.

—

She’s gone when he wakes up, and the Skittles are in his pocket - along with the painkillers. Happy.

It’s Wednesday morning, and it’s not exactly ‘happy’ he’s feeling, but he’s got candy in his pocket and time to go home for a shower and more food, so Alice was right - the little things do help.

—

She never turns up two Tuesdays in a row, but he does see her again. She’s always more prepared than the first time, with a bag that always seems to contain exactly what they need - in his less lucid states, he is reminded of Mary Poppins’ magic carpet bag as she produces snacks and first aid kits, and even clothing.

Her attempts at first aid are, at best, rough and she accidentally breaks two of his fingers and nearly ends up in tears when he yells in pain, and hugs him so tight, weeping into his neck, that he ends up trying to comfort her.

Sometimes he sleeps. She’s so thin and tiny that her shoulder isn’t a good pillow, and he feels like a shit man, letting such a tiny girl keep watch behind a bar. It wouldn’t take much to break her, and he can’t defend anyone in this state.

But some Tuesdays, he falls asleep anyway, breathing in that scent of fresh roses and linen, and listening to her chatter away about people he doesn’t know, about places he’s never visited, about books he’s never read.

Alice sounds like she’s living a really nice life. One week, she quizzes him on his Spanish before his examine the next day, and her accent is flawless. When her phone buzzes and buzzes and buzzes, and she ignores it, she usually swears - he doesn’t know in what language, one of the Eastern Asian ones he thinks - but it’s definitely a swear.

He wishes he could see her, talk to her, out in the real world and prove to her that he’s not just a beat-up kid. But she’s always gone on Wednesday mornings, and he doesn’t even know how to contact her anyway.

All in all, he met Alice in the reeking alley behind Dewey’s with a concussion, broken ribs, and a dislocated shoulder, and now she’s the best friend he’s ever had in the world.

He’s getting closer to that ‘happy’ concept that she mentioned the first time they met.

—

The last time he sees her, he’s bleeding and he’s pretty sure his eye socket is fractured. He’s pissed with himself because he wasn’t fast enough, smart enough, to stop his father from going after Flo. So he’d thrown a punch at his old man for the first time because Flo is his baby sister and all haunted eyes and he’ll never forget the sounds of her wailing after the belt struck her, but hitting the bastard back just fuelled him and … fuck.

Then Alice is there, in jeans with stars on the knees and a billowy purple top that is just opaque enough to obscure the skin underneath. She looks angry and frustrated, and doesn’t just sit next to him and open her bag like she usually does.

“It’s a stupid fucking decision you’re about to make,” she stamps her foot, “and I am so mad at you right now, but Carlisle and Edward have made me promise not to interfere. Carlisle says that everything I’m doing now is enough. And I’m already in enough trouble, honestly.”

He can taste foil again - definitely a fractured eye socket.

“What?” he manages, snappish and tired. He doesn’t need this. He wants sweet Alice, who helps him patch himself back together, and gets him food, and talks him to sleep. The one who makes him laugh, even when it hurts, and seems to be light-years ahead of him but that’s okay because she’s always so happy about whatever she’s telling him.

“I’m going to say this once,” she enunciates carefully, still glaring. “I will be here every Tuesday. Don’t make a dumb decision. There is always another choice.”

“You’re making less sense than normal,” he retorts. “Either help me, or go away - I’m not in the mood.”

“Happy freakin’ birthday,” she snaps, unbuckling her giant watch, and throws it at him before she storms back the way she came, leaving him behind.

#jaliceweek20 #alice cullen #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #vampire alice human jasper #my fic: against a wall #my writing: against a wall #alice is so unhelpfully helpful

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