#as much as I love this work environment and love my co/workers sometimes I miss the clerical part of my last job

[sassyandclassy94]

Main downsides of working with produce🤮:

Hands are ALWAYS cold, wet, cracked, and bloody

Sticking your finger in a rotten squash (just shoot me now!!)

Scallions. That’s it. Scallions

[writersblog20]

Movie night, adventures and sleepovers.

Pedro Pascal x reader

Credits to the gif maker!!

Summary: When you and Pedro finally had some time to hang out together so you decided on a movie night and a sleepover with maybe some edibles which leads to some funny yet cute situations.

Warnings:FLUFF edibles, smoking some grass,  quick mention of an unsafe environment. (but like very quick)

A/N I DO NOT give permission to translate, copy or repost my work!

Words: 3,7K

Movie night, adventures and sleepovers.

You were packing your stuff and got ready to go to Pedro. Since you’ve became co-workers, your bond had been so wholesome and loving that you got very attached to Pedro and Pedro to you. He was your best friend, comfort person, sometimes father figure and just your favorite person in the whole wide world. When you were filming a new tv series, you both watched a lot of movies together and tried to have a movie night every Friday.

Unfortunately Pedro was very busy the last couple of weeks but made it up to you. Instead of just the Friday night, he asked you to have a movie weekend. Which meant, eat edibles or smoke weed, watch movies, put on your crazy pajamas, cuddle together underneath the fluffy blanket that he bought just for you) order take-out, eat snacks (mostly popcorn) and fall asleep on his couch. He had a couch that you could turn into a bed so that was always what you did first. Make it as comfy as possible, bringing all the blankets and pillows down and chill on the bed/couch.

You got your stuff and texted Pedro that you were on your way. “Send me your live location sweetheart.” He texted you back, always worried for you and that you would arrive safely and if you won’t than he would know where you were. You texted him your location and put all of your stuff in your car and drove to his place.

You were very excited. You haven’t seen him in a month and two weeks and everyday it became harder and harder. You missed him so much and he did with you, hence the weekend. You did at least text each other everyday and facetime at least 2 times in the week.

After an hour or so you arrived at the comfort of Pedro’s home which you considered your second home. Pedro opened his front door and walked towards your car with a big smile and opened the door for you when you were almost getting ready to get out. Seems like he missed you just as much as you missed him. You couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face. “Give me a hug! I’ve missed you so much!” he told you excited and held his arms open for you. You got out of the car and quickly got into the hug. Pedro held you very tight, like he was scared that you might be gone if he didn’t hold you so tight.

“I finally have my baby girl back” he let out with a sigh as if a heaviness got off of his shoulders. Your arms were around his waist and your face buried in the crook of his neck while you stood on your tippy toes. Pedro chuckled and rocked the both of you in the hug. His arms around your shoulders and pulled you closer to the warmth of his body. “Let’s get inside, I got a surprise for you!” he told you excited, making you giggle, raising your curiosity and matching his excited energy. Before going inside, Pedro helped you with the bags and carried them, not wanting that you had to carry it.

He took your hand in his and led you inside his house. You followed him curiously. The moment you stepped into the livingroom, your breath got taken away for a second from surprise while Pedro put your stuff down for a minute. He already made the couch/bed but made some sort of tent with fairy lights in it. The fireplace was lit and it looked sooooo comfortable and cozy that you wanted to lay down already. “This is the first surprise.” Pedro smiled happily when he saw you happy and surprised. “Pepsi…. This is so sweet! Thank you.” he smiled “Anything for my favorite girl in the world.” You felt flustered and loved by his words. “Come here princesa, I got another surprise for you.” You felt so spoiled but you were always getting spoiled when you were with Pedro.

“So… as you know I’ve been traveling and of course I got something from back there for you.” he told you and happily gave you a box. It was a big box at that and you looked at Pedro to see if you could open it. He nodded with a big smile and neither could you wipe the smile off your face. The box had a ribbon around it and you got it loose, slowly opening the box. You saw the same pajama that Pedro had, and you loved so much. “Ohhh thank you Pepsi!!!” you thanked him happily and gave him a big hug, “Now we’re matching besties.” You giggled at his remark. “You gonna wear it tonight as well?” you asked him, feeling the soft fabric on your hands. “Of course I will!” you smiled and gave him a side hug. Pedro chuckled shyly and a blush creeped up on his cheeks.

“Oh and I went with my nephews to Disneyworld. You need to join us sometime! You’ll love it! but I saw something and I just had to get it for you.” you were still learning to accept gifts and not feel bad about it so this was a lot but you weren’t complaining. “Pepsi.. it’s too much.” You told him, feeling a bit guilty. “Hey, none of that. I want to spoil you, so I will because I love you. you know that right?” he told you softly and sweetly. You nodded and gave him a warm smile. “Come here baby girl.” He told you, holding his arms open for you again so he could give you a hug first. You immediately got in the hug and Pedro let his chin gently rest on your head. “I know you find it difficult sometimes but you deserve it. Besides, it’s part of my love language.” You chuckled. You knew it was indeed part of his love language, that’s why you always accepted his gifts because it made him so happy.

“I know, Peps. Thank you, I love you too.” He gave you a warm smile and kissed the top of your head. He got a paper bag from underneath the table and gave it to you with a big smile, which radiated over to you. You saw a very soft and fluffy fabric which was green, propped up in the bag. You got it out and it might’ve been the softest thing you’ve ever touched. You got it out of the bag and you saw that it was a big oversized grogu hoodie. Pedro knew that you really liked the Mandalorian so this was really sweet and cool. “Thank you Pepsi! I LOVE it.” Pedro smiled happily. “You’re more than welcome and I know, that’s why I got it for you, sweetheart.” You gave him a hug while he looked with adoration at you while he giggled a bit.

“Okay, let’s get changed in the pajamas and order some food. You have an idea of what you want?” He asked you while walking up the stairs as he carried your stuff. “Ehmm… maybe some Mexican food or something?” Pedro smiled, “That’s one of the many reasons why I love you.” you chuckled and followed him in the bedroom where he put your stuff down. The only thing that you were carrying were your presents, which you were so happy with. You went into the bathroom with your presents and got changed into the matching pajamas. You looked in the mirror and god you were really happy with your presents and walked out with a big smile on your face. Pedro was already wearing his and you chuckled. “I really, really like it Pepsi!” Pedro chuckled “We should take a picture!” he suggested while laughing, knowing that the internet would go absolutely nuts about this.

You both took a couple of pictures and did different poses. One where you were on his back, your chin resting on top of his head while he held you up with his arms around your legs, both with the biggest smile on your faces. You took some pictures of Pedro and he from you. He got the grogu hoodie and hinted for you to put it on, which you happily did. It was so big, he probably got you 3 sizes bigger than your own, knowing you loved when your comfort clothes were baggy and oversized. Pedro hugged you tightly. “Oh my god, you look so cute and feel so soft!” he jokingly cried out, making you laugh. You both took some more pictures and made your way downstairs.

You finally plopped on the, cozy looking couch/bed together. Your arms were propped up together, laying closely next to each other. Pedro opened the take-out app and made you chose something to eat. You chose your favorite take-out with some dessert. Pedro leaned his head on your shoulder, looking at the things you chose. You handed the phone back to Pedro and this time, you leaned against Pedro, head resting against his shoulder, looking at the things he chose. He placed the order and put his phone aside to get the tv remote.

“So… what movie?” he asked you. You both made a list of all the movies and series you wanted to watch together. You even categorized them to the genre. “What are we feeling today? Horror, fantasy, comedy?” you asked. “Should we do a horror movie?” you smiled and nodded. You picked one on your list and made yourself completely comfortable against Pedro, who already had his arm placed around you. You shivered a little when you finally became comfortable even though you were already underneath a big blanket, you just get cold very fast so Pedro got a soft fluffy blanket from the corner and placed it over your shoulders, tucking you in.

You were hanging so much against Pedro that not even air could get through. There was a scary part in the movie and you hid your face a little against Pedro, closing your eyes for a bit until the jump scares passed. You heard Pedro chuckle above you and you looked up to be met with his brown eyes that looked so kindly down to you. “You okay baby girl?” he chuckled softly and you felt yourself grow flustered and nodded. The doorbell rang and you almost jumped off the couch, scaring you to your core. Pedro started wheezing at your reaction. You felt your cheeks heat up and embarrassment floating over you while you swatted Pedro’s arm. He got up, still laughing to open the door. You could still hear him chuckle as he opened the door and got the food inside. You jokingly looked mad at him. “Aww I’m so sorry baby girl. You know I won’t let anything happen to you in real life right?” he walked over to you, still chuckling and pulled you in a hug and kissed the top of your head. “Yeah, yeah. You keep laughing.” You acted unamused but you couldn’t hide the smile on your face.

You unpacked the food and got back into your position on the couch and dug into the delicious food. Pedro looked at you, love radiating from his yes as he had a permanent relaxing and comfortable smile on his face. You continued to watch a movie and eat dinner and desserts before you were both fully full and content.

After the first movie ended, it was Pedro’s turn to choose. Pedro sat with his back against the cushions while you laid down. You rested your head against his arm and looked at the tv. He chose candyman as he was sort off a horror movie lover himself. You told him that you loved horror movies. You both sharred a  love for those old horror movies like Halloween, Friday the 13th, scream etc but some very good horror movies came out last year like bodies bodies bodies and the barbarian etc. So after candyman you watched bodies bodies bodies. You had already seen the movie but loved to watch it again with Pedro, wanting to know what he thought about it.

“oh my god… that ending are you kidding me?!” he said out loud, not believing what just happened. “I do really like the movie though!” you chuckled and discussed the movie further. You saw Pedro getting lost in his thoughts and (in this case) you knew he was coming with at least an idea. “Hey I got an idea!” he told you excited making you laugh, knowing that you were right. “So scream 6 is in the movie theaters right now… I still have some edibles… what if we watch a movie in the theaters on edibles?” mischief visible in your eyes, making you chuckle. “You know what, I’m all in!” you told him excited for the little adventure.

You both bolted upstairs to get changed into some normal clothes and went downstairs again. Pedro got the edibles and put them in his pocket before getting the keys of his house. There was a cab waiting, that Pedro had called so he wouldn’t drive on edibles. You both still wore comfortable clothes but yet could be seen outside with. The drive to the cinema didn’t took long and Pedro already bought tickets online, looking at the best seats. He got the seats where you could lay down in. Those luxuries ones.

You both stepped out of the cab when you arrived at the destination. Pedro gave you one of the edibles and took the other himself, both smiling and grinning like some teenagers about the excitement. It felt good, doing something that wasn’t falling into some peoples perspectives of being bad.

You walked in, not knowing what to expect since Pedro held everything a surprise. “What do you want to have as a snack and a drink?” you questioned as you got your wallet out. Pedro had that same mischievous smile. “Nothing, we’ll get taken care of.” You frowned, not understanding what was happening. “Trust me” Pedro quickly added. You let out a sigh and smirked, trying to look unamused but failed. Pedro smiled at his wining plan. “okay, you take the lead than.” You told him with a chuckle and Pedro turned with his eyebrow raised, a smirk and nodded. “It’s a surprise.” He told you happily. You walked into the theater and you couldn’t believe your eyes for a second. Yes, you’ve seen this online. Pictures and stuff on tiktok but never did it crossed your mind that you would go here. “Oh I really like this!” you told him as you looked around, eyes big. Pedro chuckled “Yeah I know you do.” He laughed.

He took you to the seats he chose and it was absolutely perfect. You saw the screen perfectly from here. You sat down and you looked around, still a bit in awe. Pedro turned his chair up, so his feet were up. “Wow…” you immediately searched for your own button to do the same thing. Pedro chuckled lovingly. “You remind me of Ellie her first time in a car right now.” he chuckled, making you giggle. “Here” Pedro helped you with the seat, leaning over you. “Thank you.” he smiled lovingly at you. The edibles started to work on the both of you.

Pedro showed you that you could order snacks online throughout the entirety of the movie. Pedro got a box of popcorn to share and some drinks. You smiled and got comfortable, Pedro looking over at you every now and then, smiling with love radiating from him. The movie started and you focused on the movie, getting a handful of popcorn.

When the movie finished, you talked about it for a while and decided to go to the store to get some snacks back at home before the cab would arrive to bring you both back home. You and Pedro were fully high at this point and had to use almost all your energy not to burst into a fit of laughter inside the store. You heard Pedro trying to hold in his laugh, making you laugh but also tried to hold it in which led into tears from laughing so hard and trying to hold it in. You both got all the snacks, drinks and ice cream you both wanted. You saw a slushy machine and looked at Pedro with a smile before making your way over. “Which one do you want?” You asked him with a grin. Pedro pointed at the blue one, while you got the red one. You paid for the slushies and the snacks with some fighting back from Pedro. “No, pedge, you already paid for literally everything else. Let me pay at least for this.” He finally gave in, knowing it would made you feel bad if he didn’t.

You got into the cab, still buzzing from the edibles, knowing it would stay this way for at least the 2 next hours. You let your head rest on Pedro’s shoulder when the taxi driver drove off. “You okay baby girl?” he asked you softly as he carefully turned his head to look at you. You nodded “Yeah, just tired.” Pedro hummed in reaction. “You can close your eyes if you want to. I’ll wake you up when we’re home.” You smiled softly, already eyes closed. Home… yeah you felt at home and Pedro knew it. He always kept saying that his home, is your home as well and always managed to make you feel at home. You never really felt at home (except for your cute little apartment since it was yours) but people never gave you a safety feeling and you’ve never really felt safe at home, which Pedro knew about. That was why he was so bound to make you feel at home, comfortable, secure, cared for, loved and safe and god did that man made you feel at home.

You felt Pedro softly resting his head against yours. His arm around your shoulder so you could get even more comfortable. Yes you were tired but that wasn’t why you closed your eyes. You felt so comforted and safe at this moment that you just wanted to stay present. His cologne hit your nose and it was something that always seemed to calm you down, knowing that Pedro was there. you focused on his breathing, his cologne, the way he softly rubbed your shoulder with his thumb. You just wanted to curl up in his arms and never leave. And the funny part was, you knew Pedro wouldn’t mind if you stayed.

“Baby girl, we’re home.” He spoke ever so gently. You opened your eyes and let out a soft relaxing sigh out, making Pedro smiled that you felt so completely safe with him. It was the biggest compliment he could ever get and it filled his heart up with so much love for you.

You yawned a bit, making Pedro chuckle. He got all the stuff out of the cab and paid the driver. He swung his arm around your shoulder again and led you both inside the comfort of his home. Pedro put the stuff on the table while you let yourself fall on the stretched out bed in the livingroom. You rested on your back while scrolling through your phone tiredly. Pedro fell down next to you on the bed and let his head rest on your shoulder this time, looking at what you were watching. He draped his arm over your stomach, holding you by your waist as he made himself comfortable. You played with his hair, not even trying to resist the urge. You knew Pedro was okay with that and obviously, he let you play with his hair right now.

After a half hour of tiktoks, Pedro spoke up. “You want to smoke a joint and watch something until we fall asleep?” he raised his head to look at you. “Yeah, sure!” you told him with a smile.

You went outside and sat down on his lounge couch outside and laid your legs on it too. Pedro followed soon and did the same as you, his back slightly resting against your side, so he could put his feet up on the couch as well, kicking off his slippers, like you did prior. Pedro lit the joint and you both started to slouch more against each other, letting both of your heads rest against each other as you passed the joint back and forth until it was finished. You immediately felt effect as you started to relax more and your eyes started to get heavy.

You both lazily walked back inside, got into your comfortable pajamas again and freshened up. Pedro put the fairy lights on and got ready for bed as well, joining besides you when he finished up. “Thank you Pedge. For this wonderful evening.”  You told him when you lay down on your side. Pedro smiled at you. “Your welcome baby girl. Thank  you for a wonderful evening as well.” you smiled in reaction and handed the remote to Pedro so he could choose the last movie of tonight. He clicked on something you both liked, something light hearted.

You crawled closer to Pedro, letting your head rest on his shoulder and your arm around his torso. His arms were relaxing around you as he held you comfortably. You grew very tired from the eventful and fun evening and tried to keep your eyes open but it was a losing battle. “Close your eyes Chiquita, it’s okay. I’ll make you pancakes in the morning.” He whispered and kissed the top of your head. You hummed, already falling asleep. “G’night.” Pedro chuckled “Goodnight princess.” He told you and looked for a couple of seconds at you with nothing but adoration. He couldn’t express how happy he was to spend a couple of days together.  

[write-and-buried]

Celestial Navigation

Part 3 - First Quarter

(gif by the magnificent @pedropascalsx)

Summary; ....well, at least your boss knows your name

Warnings; drug use (marijuana), casual touching - F!Masturbation, the raunchiest nastiest, dirty talk, Dieter being a chaos gremlin, some descriptions of a really terrible workplace environment.

A/N; Once again, the love, support and kindness you all have shown this fic has truly blown me away and I cannot express how much I appreciate all of it. This has been a rough week for me, so thank you for being my safe space <3

[Series Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist]

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Well… at least she knows your name now.

Leaving the office at 5pm on a Friday is a cardinal sin. The other interns watch you with a curious expression as you gather your wallet and phone, shoving them hastily into your handbag. You hope they aren’t looking close enough at your face to see the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. If you get out of here in under a minute, you can cry safely on the street.

There’s no crying in this office. You made it through the first round of layoffs, the relief an itch in your chest as you watched co-workers pack their desks, move their little succulent plants into cardboard boxes and vanish. All their work was farmed out to all of you, 100 people whittled down to seventy with the same amount of papers. It was inevitable that something would get missed.

And you missed it. A line in one of the thousand spreadsheets, not updated, the formula not copied over. Ones and zeroes that caused the math to implode, for everything to grind to a halt until they found your error, fixed it and resumed the churning pace, each of you glued to screens with headphones and mouths set into a grim line.

She didn’t yell at you. It was in the raise of her eyebrow, the twitch of her finger over her keyboard, the way you watched her manicured nails hover over the “delete” key, as if it would have real world consequences. It was an hour of dressing down, of explaining the mistake in its simplest terms, as though you were an infant, your first class of your first year. No sympathy for the late nights or caffeine fuelled mornings, where you dragged yourself into the office mere hours after leaving it.

“I want you to take the weekend and consider your future with this company.” She sniffed, her eyes narrowing as she looked over your attire. “We certainly will”

There’s nothing waiting for you at your apartment except a Lean Cuisine and a dead plant. The streets are full of people in the same business attire as you, listening to podcasts and talking on headsets, they part around you like a rock in a river, barely noticing the tears that are now flowing freely down your cheeks. Nobody would stop if you were screaming, it doesn’t matter that it’s silent.

You start to walk.

*

Fall meant blankets for Dieter. He pulled them from the linen cupboard in his kitchen with something akin to glee, emptying the shelves of the rainbow of fleece and thick comforters, spreading them around his apartment as he walked in and out of the balcony, breathing in the air that chilled his lungs.

Summer had left without a goodbye, no final send-off of scorching heat or sticky sidewalks. Instead, the sun rose one morning on air that felt crisp, that chilled lungs and demanded steam in a hot shower, for the tea to be steeped a moment longer, the mug to warm your hands. Taking on an orange hue as the stores changed from bright colours to warm earth tones, the occasional pop of Halloween peeking through as hemlines got longer. Dieter reached for sweatpants most mornings.

He called you once a week. He saw you once a week. That was the baseline established. You would come in on a weekend in the mid-morning rush, and he would get a call, Owen, or sometimes Molly letting him know of your arrival. It was his wakeup call some days, just a few steps away from opening his eyes to see you first thing. He fell down the last stair most mornings. You would sit and talk with him, people watch in his carved out corner as you drank your coffee, ate a muffin. You asked him about himself, and he answered you honestly.

You seemed wholly unsurprised about the drugs, the women, the men. He had only made oblique references, a highlight reel of parties and tabs of LSD, you even laughed when he told you about Bertha, the strawberry-banana weed plant growing in the abandoned bathtub on his balcony. You guessed correctly that he preferred to grow his own, no pesticides or interference. He’d used the seeds from his last harvest, grown her again and marvelled at the cycle of life. Owen brought up the used coffee grounds once a week for fertilizer. He got the jars from goodwill.

You admitted your own indulgence was a glass of good Chardonnay. He’d stocked his fridge with Chablis right next to the blueberries, his whiskey remaining on top of the fridge, bottles emptied and repurposed, growing flowers out of makers mark on his nightstand.

The phone calls were his favourite. The shyness about you disappeared, you were more willing to admit things, less willing to suffer the silence as he waited for you to expand on an answer. If you didn’t want to answer something, you told him and he asked a different question. Your favourite colour was of ruby grapefruits.

He smoked and painted while you talked, bowls of fruit and tidily rolled joints accompanying your laughter. He loved to make you laugh. It tugged at his insides when you said you rarely did otherwise. On the weekends you chatted with Owen and Molly, lingering at the counter while Owen ground and pressed, and Molly doodled on your receipt. They knew better than to charge you, so you compromised by buying someone else’s.

You had no tattoos, the only piercings simple studs in your ear. You’d looked interested as he slowly filled in the triangles on his forearms, but didn’t ask him. He was still resisting the urge to push, to unfurl his fingers and reach to touch you in those quiet lulls of conversation. Feel your skin again under his thumbs, as if he could ever forget the sensation.

The scent of melted dark chocolate and cannabutter was thick in his kitchen. He could feel a mild contact high as a fuzz in his limbs as he watched them blend together. A floured pan was waiting for the brownies off to the side, and so far he’d only burned the tip of one finger on the cooktop. His lungs were too old for the crispness of the air, and after a few days of sobriety in the guise of a tolerance break, he found the scribbled brownie recipe in a Julia Child cookbook he had been given more than a decade ago.

He would call you tonight. Your last call had ended with his honesty. You still seemed to hedge whenever he opened, this delicate dance of advance and retreat. Every time you asked a question, you knew the answer, but seemed surprised when he gave it to you anyway. It was well past two am, the streets quiet as he watched the fan spin above him, listened to you talk again about ambitions and goals and plans that had more steps than the recipes he followed.

You hesitated, faltering at the finish. He wanted to ask you “What then?” what happens when you check every item off your list, when you’ve undoubtably achieved everything you want to and there’s no moon left to reach for – which lofty star would gain the focus of your new pursuits. But he let the silence linger, waiting for the question he could taste in the air, smoke curling from the ashtray at his bedside.

“Dieter… do you ever wonder what the rest of your life looks like?”

“No Loulou… this is the rest of my life. Talking on the phone with you.”

*

“Sorry we’re closed”

The bell creaks your arrival, groaning under the pressure of the day as you shove the door open. You don’t know why you’re here, why your feet brought you, protesting the impractical heels that carried you blocks and blocks in the dwindling sunlight. Everything hurts from crying, your face angry hot from the tears. The reasons left you in the smog from screaming cabs, catching in the choking pollution until you were blind with it, left with nothing but a hollow despair.

“Did you hear, I said… oh fuck!” Owen turned and blanched as he looked at you, dropping the rag he was using to polish the gleaming machine.

“I’m ok, everything’s ok, I’m sorry, I just…” you start, shame creeping up your spine as you watch the colour drain from his thin face. He scrambles, beads clinking merrily as he ducks behind the curtain.

“DIETER!” His voice booms, loud and echoing around the empty shop as you jump, holding your elbows as you glance at the door, wanting to run, to go home to your dead plant and sad dinner and pretend you didn’t have a breakdown. To glance nervously at your phone with a glass of chardonnay and hope he calls.

Instead he appears, dishevelled in sweats and a bathrobe that’s at least three sizes too big. He’s wearing sunglasses, there’s a stain that looks like chocolate on his cheek. He carries with him the same frantic energy, spiced this time with fear as he sees you, takes stock of your appearance and points at the chair, the faded mustard yellow that’s unofficially yours.

“Owen, grab one of those veggie pastries, make a hot chocolate and fuck off” he says, his voice stricter than you’ve heard it before, a glint of danger as he watches you, the painful shuffle as you make your way through the mismatched desks and tables.

He crouches rather than sits, close enough that you can smell the air on him, the crispness of fall and spices that cling to his clothing. Close enough you could count the greys in his beard. He watches as you fold in on yourself, shoes dropping to the floor with an echoing thunk as you curl into the familiar softness of his company. He doesn’t say anything, his eyes darting frantically around your features as you hear Owen in the background.

There’s a clink, a steaming cup and a plate placed beside you, as Owen offers you a smile, palms Dieter’s shoulder as he leaves in silence. The lock sounds heavy as it clicks behind him.

“Eat, Loulou” he says, his hands splayed wide on the armrests of the chair. You watch as his thumbs tick like metronomes as he strokes the fabric. This is the closest he’s been, since that first day. He doesn’t touch you, besides the accidental brushing of clothed knees as you sit in the mid mornings. He gestures when he talks, tugging at his clothes or his hair, watching your own limbs as you sit still, pen poised in your grip, hovering over the journal you always intend to write in.

The pastry is good, full of rich vegetables and buttery soft flakes, the hot chocolate steals the heat from your face, distributing it throughout your body as he waits patiently for you to finish. He brings you an extra napkin, you dry your eyes.

“Owen can’t deal with crying women. We had this woman once, who would come in and read these tragic romances, and sob over her latte. He went to this bookstore in Hell’s Kitchen and bought her all these bodice ripping pirate novels and told her she was banned from reading anything without at least two nipples on the front cover.”

You hiccup a laugh.

“Her names Mallory, they trade Kindle recommendations for books with aliens with blue dicks now”

“I’m sorry Dieter, I didn’t mean to… I should just go, this was stupid, I’m sorry, I’ve worried you for nothing and it’s stupid really. Honestly, I’m fine, it was just a bad day, I made this mistake, and it was completely my fault and I should have known better and I shouldn’t be crying, I should have just done it properly the first time”

“Can I give you a hug?” He asks. “Would that be okay?”

He waits. Perched on the balls of his feet as though his knees aren’t screaming in protest, as if his whole body hadn’t been jolted by electricity from the sight of you in pain. The roar of primal rage that flooded every sense the minute he saw the tears glistening on your cheeks brought him back to his youth, to the cocaine fuelled bar brawls and waking up with sticky fists. He gave it up in his twenties, but found he felt the need to scorch the earth to find those that caused you pain. You nod. Just a tiny jerk of your chin, your eyes filling again as he watches your fiddle with the hem of your shirt, looking down to try and blink them away.

He's stronger than he looks. The baggy clothes hiding a thick frame as he lifts you, depositing you back onto the armchair, curled exactly the same with him beneath you. He wraps the bathrobe around you both, bringing his arms around your middle as your head rests on his shoulder. He’s warm. Soft and broad beneath you as you feel his body still when your hair brushes his cheek.

Its easier, to bury the words in his skin. To talk into his shoulder, your eyes on the pulse of his throat as you explain your day. The dressing down from your boss, the judgemental eyes on you as you left the fluorescent lighting of the office, the pain in your feet from walking here. That you weren’t even sure why you were here, just that you didn’t want to go home. His thumb smooths a steady rhythm on your hip, rubbing tiny gentle circles over the robe and your clothing. You can feel him breathing beneath you, his warmth floods your senses.

“You don’t have to go home” he says quietly.

He still thinks you’re soulmates. He still thinks that this friendship you’ve fostered is the kindling to a blazing inferno. You don’t tell him about the coffee dates you sometimes go on throughout the week, about the men you swipe right on Tinder, the hopes you pin to white smiles and JDs.

“I can’t”

“I have a batch of weed brownies cooling on the counter. A stack of movies and very comfy couch. Nothing else.” He says, shrugging so you look at him. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes” its an answer without hesitation.

“I’m not going to use your shitty workday as an excuse to tempt you into bed. We can get high and watch movies and fall asleep. That’s it – we’re friends right now Loulou, this is what friends do. Promise”

He hooks his pinkie into yours, nudging his nose against your cheek as he nods, waiting for you to agree. When you do, he lifts you to your feet, grabbing your shoes as you wander slowly behind the beaded curtain.

*

Everything is green. There are plants in every corner of the apartment. Apartment is generous for the room you’re standing in. Shaped in an awkward rectangle with a sliding door, a small kitchen is crammed into a corner, shelves sit uneven, their contents sliding drunk with gravity. A huge deep green couch in front of a large television, looking every bit as soft and comfortable as promised. Hiding behind a wicker screen is his bed, which is when you start laughing.

“Like it?” he asks, grinning as he flicks off light switches, darkening the hallway leading to the stairs. Its round. Huge and sprawling, pillows piled against the wall with crisp sheets tucked awkwardly on the rounded edges. You can see where he sleeps with the comforter, puddled in the middle and your brain provides you with an absurd image of him, a frog on this lily pad, talking on the phone with you as the ceiling fan spins above.

“It’s very you” you shrug, gravitating towards the corner, paint and canvases stacked like pizza boxes, a tower almost as tall as you. The easel is propped on a brick, the work only half finished as you look at it. Its streaks of midnight, deep rich blues as you look closer, the tiny speckles of the universe behind a moon made of spun lace, glued to the canvas. In the foreground, two tiny figures sit hand in hand, as if observing the webbing above them.

“This is beautiful” you say, reaching your hand towards the texture, stopping yourself at the smell of fresh paint. He hasn’t finished it yet, some white canvas peeking through the edges.

“Thank you” he says, grabbing your hand and pressing forward. Your fingerprints are left on the sticky surface, they come away streaked purple. “I’m going to suggest something that’s going to freak you out a little bit. Take a shower. I’m going to give you some of my clothes to change into – you can’t be comfortable all buttoned up like this. Half a brownie and a shower, and then we’ll watch some movies”

He wipes your hand on his shirt, taking most of the pigment with it as he strolls to his cluttered counter, a tray of half cut brownies waiting on the edge, balanced precariously. You can see the jars behind him, half full of buds of weed in mason jars. There’s an orchid growing out of a bottle of Makers Mark.

He grabs dark sweats from a haphazardly folded pile, pulls one shirt, then another, before settling on a third and giving them to you. From his pantry he gives pulls a towel in jewel tones before opening the door to his bathroom, depositing them on a cluttered vanity. You catch a glimpse of more plants before he skitters back to the kitchen, a knife held loosely in his grip as he ponders the slab of brownie.

“Have you…”

“I went to college Dieter” you reply, rolling your eyes.

He cuts two pieces, cutting one in half before offering it to you. The chocolate smells rich and heavenly, decadent in the weight of it as you take a bite, the flavours exploding across your tongue as you taste cinnamon and brown sugar, just a hint of the vegetal weed exploding across your senses.

He eats the other half, and then another piece as you finish yours. You notice the way he lingers on your lips as you suck the chocolate from your thumb. He points to the bathroom; you enter to another jungle. There’s a plant in a terracotta pot in the corner of his shower. All the soap is cluttered on the floor.

But the shower itself is a marvel. You lock the door behind you and stare, the giant square head protruding right from the ceiling, and you know it will rain down on you like that first day you met him, heavy and warm and soothing. You fold your clothes neatly, rolling them to fit in your handbag as you turn the water on, immediately jealous of the hot water streaming from his taps.

It washes down the drain at your feet as you turn under the heavy spray. The tension that had been slowly leaking from your pores turns to a gush as you relax, allowing your eyes to drift shut as the hot water hammers your shoulders, your palms braced on the tile. Idly, you wonder if Dieter had ever placed his hands here, if he stood in this same position.

It was cold enough to stand outside and will himself to calm down. The sound of the shower had his cock perking up with interest. It had been silenced by your tears as you moulded yourself onto his lap, but the idea that you were naked mere feet from him had brought it back to life with a roar. He forced himself into the cold, tucking himself into the waistband of his sweats as he looked over his apartment. He shoved the toys into the bottom drawer, wincing at the stickiness of dried lube as he made note to run them through the dishwasher in the morning. He turned off the overhead lights, grabbing a weighted blanket from the bed and throwing it with a grunt onto the couch.

The lava lamp on the coffee table gave off a blueish softness, making him feel as though he was underwater, his limbs heavy as he loaded up a bowl with salted cashews, grabbing a few sodas from his fridge as he scrolled through the DVD menu, waiting to hear the water stop.

Oh. Oh.

Oh, you look so good in his clothes. Your hair is still damp as you exit, clouds of steam billowing with you as if you’re a goddess come to earth, shoving your handbag into a corner with his laundry. His brain is static, all white noise and lust as he watches the way his shirt stretches across your tits. You’re wearing fabric that has touched his skin, that smells like him. You’re going to smell like him. His cock twitches dangerously at his hip.

“Dracula first” he says, amazed he found words other than begging you to let him taste what you taste like mixed together.

*

Everything is so deliciously warm. You’re under a blanket that presses on your thighs, the weight making you feel heavy. Everything is clouds and deep breaths, blurry and hazy, a film left too long exposed. Your fingers are salty from cashews, the texture on your skin making a pleasant hum as you shift closer to Dieter again. He’s blurry too, as though you’re looking at him underwater, and your palm, swimming in and out of focus makes you giggle, as you trace the lines he did, trying to recreate his steps.

“Mount of Venus” you say, your tongue thick and warbling as you press into the padded flesh.

“Mhm” he replies, deep and rumbling, an ancient carving next to you. You rest your head on his shoulder, your palm in his lap and wait.

“Pleasure” he says, his fingers twitching across the blanket. “Love of beauty, and expression. Warm and open, giving to others. Intimacy, sexual expression”

“You said mine was pronounced.” You grab his hand, flipping it in the mirror of your first meeting, trailing your fingers across his palm. You feel him shiver next to you. “Yours is too”

“Mhm” he repeats, his head lolling to look at you. He’s beautiful really. The blue shadows dancing across his features. His skin is soft, the lines deep in his face. There are mismatched patches on his beard, he’s greying around the jaw. You want to scrape a finger across it, but your arms feel too heavy to lift.

“I’m not going to kiss you Bette” he says, flipping his hand onto yours, matching those movements with a delicate touch. It races up your spine, flames licking at your senses as you sigh, shift even closer to him.

“Why not?”

“We’re high. And I made a promise. And I haven’t gotten tested, and you haven’t gotten tested, so even if I was going to kiss you, I’d have to deny myself everything else. And if I did kiss you, you’d vanish so fast in the morning, and it would take months to get back here. And if I want you like this by the New Year, it’s better to be patient”

He sounds sober in the moment. A determination in his voice as he presses his thumb into your pulse. You know he’s right. The tiny voice that’s drowned by weed shouts agreement. You would run from him in the morning – you’d know immediately it was a mistake.

“And if we weren’t?” you ask, edging yourself over the flame.

“Are you sure you want to know?” he asks, nodding to the TV, where Boris Karloff follows the Ave Maria to find a friend.

“Tell me what I’m missing”

“Have you ever been properly fucked beautiful girl?”

He watches the way your pupils’ contract. The tremble in your lip at the hitch in your breath. He feels your pulse jump beneath his fingers, feels the twin twitch beneath his own sweats. He’s thought about nothing but properly fucking you, of taking apart every put together piece of you and rearranging them between his sheets. Of finding every spot that makes you giggle, squirm, moan. Of what you look like covered in a thin film of sweat, of the way you swallow when you cum.

“Yes” you whisper.

“Liar” he accuses. “You’d be thinking of them right now, not wondering what I mean. Do you know what I mean Loulou? When I say I want to properly fuck you?”

“No” its breathy and soft, and he knows that’s exactly what you’ll sound like when he finally buries himself to the hilt inside you.

“I’ve thought about it a lot.”

He’s throbbing, thankful and mournful for the weighted blanket not betraying the weight of his cock pressed into his hip. He can feel it, the first sticky bead as it seeps into the waistband. You’re watching his mouth, your eyes focused on his tongue over teeth as he sucks in a breath, tries to calm himself.

“I’d start at your neck. I know someone in college probably got it right on accident. Found the spot where if you scrape their teeth just right, you’d whimper. That spot, and then the others, under your jaw, right down the middle of your throat. I’m going to mark you; my beard alone will leave you red. But I want my teeth as well, I want to brand it right over your pulse, watch it bloom like an opening flower. I want you weak kneed, grinding up against me because you’re already soaking wet.”

“Do you think you’re that good?”

“I know I’m that good. It’s the getting you naked part that will be a problem the first time. Because I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself. I think I’m going to destroy a bit of your clothing, my clothing, to begin with. I’m a fan of a good striptease, but I think that will have to wait until later. Once the ravenous hunger has died down a bit.”

You squirm. Just enough that he knows you’re pressing your thighs together, that some of the lazy warmth has concentrated right between your legs.

“I have to taste you. I’m desperate to taste you. Some days I lay on that bed and think about all the different ways I want to. I want to have you spread open on that armchair downstairs so I can see just how wet you are – I want you on my face, I want to pull all your weight on me, so I can feel how your whole body twitches when you cum. I want to watch you open for me, watch the way your clit swells every time I wrap my lips around it, the throbbing of your cunt before I even work my fingers inside.”

You whimper. Its enough to make him hiss. A strain against his muscles as he grinds his hips into nothing. You’re both unsettled now, shifting to find comfort against your own skin. His cock hurts, and you’re right here and you smell like him, and all he’s touching is your palm.

“You’d take one finger for me, easy. Two and three might take more coaxing, but I know you’ll take them for me. You’ll be so out of it by the first time I make you cum that the second and third will feel like a wave, crashing and breaking and not stopping. I think three might make you squirt; I hope it does. I want to be drenched in you, drink it down. I think you’re going to taste like blueberries, sugared and sweet and dripping. I want my palm soaked in you; this mount of Venus pressed right up against your clit. If you’re good for me, if you do what I want, I’ll share. I’ll gather all of you onto my tongue and spit it right in your mouth. Ill make you cum again with my tongue halfway down your throat.”

“Jesus…”

“You need stretching Loulou. I need to take my time, even though I’ll be fucking the sheets like a wild animal, getting them sticky and wet with how much I want you. If you’re sitting on my face, you might see me fuck my fist to take the edge off – a poor substitute as I’ve discovered”

“Why?”

“You know why” he replies, flipping your wrist to press against him over the blankets. He watches as your eyes widen, the thickness of him matching the delicate bones in your wrist. He pulls your hand away before you can curl your fingers in the fabric. He watches your free hand disappear beneath the blankets, the way your eyes glaze over as you press your fingers between your thighs.

“Once you’re ready, you’ll have to get used to it. It’s going to take time, for me to cram my cock inside you. You’re going to feel like heaven, and I don’t know how long I’m going to be able to hold off from pounding your slick little cunt. I’ll need you to help me, rake your nails through my hair, down my back, mark me up like I’ve marked you. If you need toys, I have them. If you want to watch the way you fit me I’ll film it.”

“Then what” he can see your hips rocking beneath the blankets. The lazy slow fucking of your own hand over his clothing makes him groan. He’s dangerously close himself, the weight of the elastic on the head of his cock enough to have him dribbling, he can feel it sliding over his skin, seeping into his shirt as he closes his eyes, willing himself not to cum.

“You’ll get fucked properly beautiful. I’ll fuck you until you can’t form words, until you’re drooling from my fingers in your mouth, until you can’t hold yourself upright. Until all your body knows how to do is submit to it. To give in and sink under and cum again, so hard you squeeze my fat cock out, so I can run it across that swollen berry of a clit and make you scream. Wherever I cum, you’re sharing. If its in your pretty little mouth you can’t swallow, I want to kiss you till its dripping all over your tits. If its inside you I’m going to fuck a dildo into you and lick it off. I want it on your skin, I want it on my skin. I want every time to be so fucking filthy we need to change the sheets. I want you as ruined as I am, for anybody else but me.”

“Dieter…” you whimper, your nails digging into his palm as he watches you stiffen, the little shudders across your skin as it breaks out in goosebumps, your mouth falling open in a moan. The bite of pain across his hand strikes the match and he cums, panting and untouched into his own skin, threading his fingers through yours to hold your hand, both of you squeezing in time.

He shifts, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he drags you to lay in the deep couch, curled up against his chest. You can smell the mingled scent of your release in the air as you press your face into his shirt, suddenly embarrassed as his hand rests between your shoulder blades.

“Then… we do this. You lay in my arms, or I lay in yours and we catch our breath together. There will be some differences, if you’re wearing a shirt, my hand will be up it, I can already tell I’m going to be obsessed with your tits”

You smile, some of the embarrassment shrinking at the matter-of-factness in his tone.

“And then we fall asleep, and when we wake up, we do it all again. That is the rest of my life Loulou.”

You can’t think of what to say. Shifting to place your hands on his hips you allow yourself the luxury of relaxing into his arms, his thumb stroking the same metronome on your spine as you close your eyes and let the exhaustion pull you under, a deep and dreamless sleep.

You wake before him in the morning. The sobering light coming from his balcony makes you stiffen. Fear boils like filtered water through your blood as you taste salt on your lips. His hold on you has slackened in sleep, allowing you to slip free without waking him, searching for your shoes, grabbing your handbag from the corner. Processing the night before isn’t an option. You need some distance to put it in a box, and label it as something other than the emotion coiling in your belly like an angry viper. You find your shoes on his counter.

As you walk past the couch he grabs your hand. You look down at him, his eyes bleary with sleep as he smiles at you. He says nothing, hooking his pinkie into yours and nodding. He lets you go, closing his eyes as you stand like a statue in front of him.

You don’t give yourself time to second guess the decision before you crawl back under the blanket. He reaches over you and presses play.

[tf2-hellhole]

can we get some fluffy tf2 headcannons? giving you full creative liberty over this one! :)

Idk if you meant tf2 x reader headcanons or just general head canons, so I did two sections for each merc; the first point is a general headcanon, the second is X Reader.

sorry this took forEEEEEEEEVER, I was just experiencing burnout and working on a prize for a contest on my server (BTW WE HAVE A NEW DRAWING CONTEST GO CHECK IT OUT)

Scout:

Scout is actually really self-concious about his intelligence. He’s not very bright and he knows it, and it makes him feel horrible. He had flunked out of high school and struggled in most of his core classes. He honestly feels really stupid and he hates when people point it out. But luckily for him, a lot of the other mercs understand what it’s like to be looked down upon and empathize with him. Quite a few of them help him relearn the skills he never mastered in school. Engie helps him with math, Spy sometimes helps him with writing, and even Pyro has him read children’s books to them to improve his reading.

Scout absolutely loves little casual dates. Stuff like going out to eat lunch, going to the movies, maybe just cuddling up in his quarters and watching a movie. He tries to plan one every week. His dream date is taking you back to Boston to meet his family and go to a Red Sox game. But obviously, since you’re both in New Mexico at the time, he’s going to have to shelve that dream for a few years.

Soldier:

Soldier is an excellent raccoon dad. At first, the other mercenaries thought they’d all end up dead by the end of the month when he first found them. But surprisingly, they are are very well cared for. They’re all fed regularly and basically have his entire assigned quarters to themselves. He loves every single one of them dearly, even the ones that hiss and scratch him every time. The raccoons, at least some of them, are kind of like weird, quiet dogs, and actually get along pretty well with most of the other mercenaries.

Soldier is a surprisingly very physically affectionate partner, and he’s not at all opposed to PDA. He loves hand holding, cheek kisses, cuddles, the whole nine yards. Whenever he’s particularly excited, he loves to run up to you, scoop you up into his arms, and press a hard, sloppy kiss to your lips. Of course, he’s careful to not hurt you, but he’s a very intense, emotional guy and he needs to express all that love he has for you!

Pyro:

Pyro is and excellent listener, so they’re a person a lot of the other mercenaries depend on to vent. Demo often comes to them to vent about his emotions, Scout, Sniper, or Medic will rant about what’s bothering them, and even Engineer will talk about his stress. And of course, Pyro doesn’t understand a lot of what is told to them, but they’re still happy to help them feel a little better, and they would happily do it a hundred times over to make their friends feel better.

Pyro has a hobby of baking and making candy/treats, and they love sharing everything they make with you. When they first gave you a treat, you honestly thought it’d be burnt or bad in some other way. But to your surprise, it was amazing! They’re actually and excellent cook, but they just love making sweet things the best. They’ll make you just about anything you could ask for without hesitation, but they’re best at making anything sweet.

Demo:

Demo obviously has the potential to pretty emotional when he’s drunk, there’s no doubt about that. But on the off-chance that he’s sober, he’s actually pretty sweet and considerate. Though he still is a rough-housing joker, he’s much more considerate of his friends’ feelings and has deeper and more meaningful conversations with them. He often likes to go to bars with his friends and co-workers on ceasefire weekends, having lots of fun conversation, drinking together, and generally causing chaos around town.

Demo, to put it simply, doesn’t like himself. He’s critical of everything, from his skills to race, because people have always put him down about them. His mother told him he’s lazy and unskilled too many times to count, just everyone makes fun of his eye, and many have made fun of his skin color. But you make him feel so much better about himself. Just the fact that someone so kind and gorgeous is actually with him makes him feel like he’s not as horrible as he thought. There’s been a couple of times where you’ve accidentally almost brought him to tears with a sweet compliment or show of affection, because he never thought in a million years that someone would love him and care for him like you do. He feels so blessed that he has someone like you.

Heavy:

I know the fandom’s decided that Engie is the Team Mom and makes the food, but I also think that Heavy cooks a lot too. He makes all of his own food, so he often makes a lot of extras to feed the team because a lot of them just eat junk food and Medic’s always complaining about their eating habits. Heavy often takes like half the food for himself (he does have a huge appetite and loves food, so he likes to take a lot) and just boxes up the leftover portions and leaves them in the fridge for the team to take. He says he’s only doing it because they can’t work properly if they’re unhealthy, but he also does it because he cares about their health. A little bit.

At first, you wouldn’t think Heavy’s the most cuddly guy. But surprise, he actually loves giving and receiving physical affection. He just doesn’t show it often out of respect for your boundaries, and doesn’t do it around others. His absolute favorite thing is to cuddle you against his chest. Sometimes it’s when going to sleep, or cuddling on the couch, or maybe just a quick hug. He just loves the feeling of your head resting against his chest and your arms trying (and failing) to wrap around his torso. It makes him feel like you’re safe. Nobody could ever get you when you’re wrapped up in his arms.

Engie:

You’d think Sniper’s the only nature nerd on the team, but Engie absolutely loves the outdoors, as well as animals. It’s because his father would often take him out camping every couple of months. It was often the only time he would get 1-on-1 time with his usually very busy father. So he does love the great outdoors, especially that of his home state. He especially loves animals. He was raised on a farm and helped take care of lots of injured wild animals with his mother. He absolutely loves pets and would like to have many when he retires. His dream is to have is own ranch, with horses and cows and a bunch of dogs and the whole shebang.

Engie absolutely loves playing the guitar, so of course he loves playing for you. He learns all sorts of sweet love songs to sing to you. He’s an excellent player and actually has a pretty decent singing voice (think Johnny Cash, he kinda has that singing style). I hope you like country music, because that’s all he’s going to sing to you until you give him some requests or he finds out your favorite artists or genres. You can tell how happy he is every time he gets to surprise you with a new song he learned, and he’d be a giddy, laughing mess if you sang along with him.

Medic:

You’d think this guy takes horrible care of his birds because of the environment he keeps them in, but his birds are actually exceptionally well cared for. He buys them only the best and most expensive bird food, gives them super high-quality water with vitamins n stuff in it, takes them to the vet regularly, the whole shebang. Yeah they get a little dirty from sitting around in his lab, but he always gives them a little bath at the end of the day to get all the blood and guts off.

Medic is honestly such a playful partner. Of course, around his co-workers he’s a little more professional; he still gives you soft touches, a kiss on the cheek, or a big smile, but that’s about it. In private, however, he’s such a sweetheart. He’s always sweeping you up into big hugs, kissing all over your face, and calling you all sorts of adorable nicknames in a variety of languages. It comes as a surprise, because you’d think he’d be a little more formal, but that’s really only for special occasions. It honestly brings him so much joy to have someone like you by his side, and every day he’s going to make sure you know just how grateful he is to have you in his life.

Sniper:

Sniper is an incredibly independent and self-sufficient man, but he’s also secretly a real mama’s boy. He loves his parents dearly and has a particularly close relationship with his mother. As well as sending them money every month, he sends them all sorts of gifts, letters, postcards, and souvenirs. He also makes sure to call them regularly. He goes home every couple of months to visit them, and one could see that he loves helping around the house and chatting with his parents. His mother loved gardening, so his number-1 favorite thing to do is help her in the garden.

Despite Sniper’s obvious lack of knowledge on self-care, he takes a lot of time out of his day to make sure you are happy, healthy, clean, and well-fed. He doesn’t hound you like a helicopter parent but he likes to ask how you’re feeling, if you’re hungry, stuff like that. It feels nice to know you’re taken care of or take care of you himself. If you switch it around and try to take care of him, however, he’s honestly baffled as to why you would care so much as to make sure he’s doing well. He does absolutely love the affection and attention he gets out of it though, it makes him feel loved.

Spy:

I’ve mentioned this before, but I have a head canon that Spy has a dog. Her name is Charlotte, and she’s an elderly Chihuahua. One would think he’d buy a French breed, but he found her out in the pouring rain one day and fell in love with her fluffy ears and spunky personality. She’s now 17 years old, extremely frail, missing most of her teeth, and extremely aggressive to anyone other than Spy, but he loves her dearly and pays for all of her medical expenses without batting an eye. And of course, she expresses her thanks with lots of kisses.

Spy loves dancing, and knows all kinds of dances, from flamenco to ballroom dancing to the Charleston to, canonically, disco. So of course, he’s dying to share all of the most romantic dances he knows with you. He’d love to actually teach you how to dance, rewarding you with kisses every time you finally get a move right and laughing softly when you make mistakes. But in reality, he just wants to use it as an excuse to dance with you against his chest and smother you in affection.

[pandawriterstuff]

Pinehallow Summary & Character List

This is my main WIP, if I'm complaining about characters doing whatever they want, this is them.

Pinehallow Summary-Monty, an eleven year old boy who has spent most of his life traveling from place to place with his in-demand lawyer mother, Irene, is sent to live at his uncle's horse ranch because she thinks he needs roots. Used to nearly everyone but his mother not being around long enough to get to know, Monty is more than a bit uncertain about this. But in scrambling to find his place in a town different to anything he's ever known, he finds friends, both human and animal, makes discoveries, and even manages to foil a plot against Pinehallow Ranch itself.

Character List

Monty (Montgomery) Cade Waller- Main character, 11, white. Monty is curious, bright, and more than a little awkward. He has a tendency to state the obvious, which can be endearing or annoying depending on your perspective. Big vocabulary and grown-up way of speaking because he’s spent more time around grown-ups than other kids. He’s quietly stubborn, particularly when it comes to being told he’s wrong when he knows he’s right. Insecure about socializing and friendships because of constant moving and traveling. Can’t hold a grudge for the life of him, even when he likely should. He likes bugs, birds and turtles, would rather read nonfiction than a story. Fills lonely afternoons with sketching, nature sketching on the ranch.

Irene Waller- Monty’s mother, 36, white. Irene is a powerful corporate lawyer, either full of energy or exhausted, never in between. She loves using words to sway minds and deciphering documents to find exactly what the opposition doesn’t want her to find. Sometimes Irene wishes she was using her skills in more meaningful ways, but also really likes the money, the traveling, and the competition. Has an almost encyclopedic knowledge of show tunes from musicals. She has a hard time letting people get close. Would stab someone for her baby, but knows it’s better to teach him to stab for himself. Only partially joking. Dolly Parton is her hero, and as much as she loves her music, it’s Dolly the business woman and Dolly the philanthropist that she strives to emulate.

Keith Waller- Monty’s uncle, 34, white. Horse Rancher. Keith loves working hard and getting dirty, and if he’s not exhausted at the end of the day he’ll be looking for something else to push him there. Otherwise he gets antsy. Loves animals and absolutely will not tolerate anyone mistreating any of the animals on his ranch-ordinarily he’s very careful of his size and strength, in that situation, all bets are off. Times that by about ten for any of the ‘barn rats’ that help around the ranch for riding lessons/time. Loves romantic comedies and telanovas and doesn’t care who knows it. Keith doesn’t read a lot, it never came easy to him, but if he’s taking a long trip he’ll always check an audio book or two out of the library instead of just relying on the radio.

Juniper - Keith’s goddaughter, 15, white. She has a calm, confident personality with a smile for most everyone she meets. If she doesn’t have a smile for you and it isn’t because her head is in the clouds over a girl, you’ve probably earned her scorn and will be ignored as much as possible. Juniper raises rabbits and it’s taught her patience, and a lot about unfairness when a kit doesn’t make it. She helps out with riding lessons at the ranch in exchange for riding time of her own, and has become a fixture, spending more time there than she does at home, and when she can get away with it, school. Loves sunflowers and her sunflower comforter is probably her most prized possession.

Nell - Caretaker/cook for the ranch house(would cooking lunch for the workers still be a thing on a modern ranch?). 38, white(?). Not about to put up with nonsense. Will make you cookies if she doesn’t have to put up with nonsense. Please. At one point she wanted to be a chef and has a year of culinary school under her belt, but quickly decided the super fast paced and competitive environment wasn’t for her. Anything that was making her hate one of her favorite things that fast could not be good for a person. She intends to live a long, long life and that kind of stress can just walk right out of the door. Loves to go on long walks, often into the hills (BLM land) behind the ranch. (maybe she was taught/took a class on foraging, and teaches Monty to find wild onions and stuff? But this would mean *I* have to learn about foraging in Idaho.) This leads to a contented, if often silent, companionship between her and Monty, who desperately wants to explore/record/sketch everything about the natural world of his new home, particularly the parts that are off limits to him without an adult along.

Ray- Family Friend/Co-Owner of R & M General (designed to feel vintage, but shiny. Bit of a tourist stop now, they decided to lean into it.), 50, Black. He uses his background in chemistry to make amazing looking candies and chocolates, using that to deal with a time he used it in less pleasant ways when he was in the military. He never expected anybody outside of his small town, or maybe the folks at the county fair to make so much fuss over them. This might embarrass him, if he weren’t so delighted. A cheerful man with a dreamer’s heart, a magazine once referred to him as a small town Willy Wonka. He dotes on his wife, often making and gifting her small surprises. An amputee in honor of my Grandpa (missing left leg at the knee, possibly missing one arm as well, but I’m not sure how that would affect candy making.). Has certain parts of his past he just doesn’t talk about.

Mavis- Co-Owner of ____ with Ray, 48, Black. Fierce and kind in equal measures, Mavis believes in protecting what’s hers, and as far as she’s concerned the entire town of (oh my god, it needs a name) is included in that. Mavis is very selective about the battles she fights, but when she chooses one she throws herself in whole-heartedly. On several committees around town, she’d be on more, but then she wouldn’t have enough time to really get into the work of the ones she loves. She knits in her limited free time, often while listening to the news, but sometimes opera. Has started knitting stuffies in the shapes of the more unusual candies Ray makes, it’s silly, but fun, and tourists and the local kids love it. Still head over heels for Ray, even though his often dreaming about things for ages instead of just doing them is also still baffling to her.

Leanna - Juniper’s sort-of girlfriend, 15, Vietnamese. Quiet, a little cynical, but very empathetic. She avoids the news because it’s that or be mad and want to cry all the time-until she hears about something she can’t not research, and goes on a 24 hour google search and learns far more than is probably good for her about a species going extinct due to logging in prohibited areas, or genocide being covered up by claims of violent uprisings. She loves manga and comics. Leanna sometimes tries for a cottagecore* type aesthetic, but mostly thinks it's too much work. She’s starting to worry about what she’s going to do with her future, and people telling her that she’s only 15 and doesn’t have to worry about it yet is NOT HELPING.

*even though cottagecore isn’t a thing in the early-mid 2000s this is maybe/vaguely set in. Shh, let me have this. Anne of Green Gablesesque maybe?

Winnie - Leanna’s mom, 45, Vietnamese. Widow? A little ditzy, but a lot loving. Everyone in town is convinced she’s the stoner type of hippy, but no one minds as she’s someone who truly wants to know how you’re doing when she asks and strangely almost always has very spot on advice. She’s rarely on time anywhere, but that’s because she’ll have stopped to talk, and often to help, whoever she’s run into. Leanna and her bicker over this when she’s late picking her up. Always wears bright colors. Loves Agatha Christie books. Calls everyone, even people 50 years older than her, hon.

Logan - Juniper’s stepdad, 40, white. Kind of a jerk, but most of the jerky things he says are actually jokes that fall flat or have simply gotten old. Tries really hard, like *really* hard, but has a tendency to get annoyed if people don’t appreciate his efforts right away-more in his personal life than professional, possibly because of his profession. A contractor, hard worker, loyal, has worked for the same company since he was twenty even though they don’t often treat him right. Sometimes tries to buy people’s affections. Wants to have better communication with Juniper, but it’s gotten really hard the last few years and he’s never quite sure why.

Candice - Juniper’s Mom, 39, white, works at a nursery that sells seedlings and baby fruit trees, has a cheerful, calm personality, but a lot softer and more lowkey than Juniper’s version. Very house proud, but has a ‘maximalist’ approach to decorating-everything is in its place, but there are places for lots of things. Loves spending time outdoors, but would rather spend it tending her garden than hiking or riding, preferably with a cup of tea by her side. On the weekends, a fruity beer or wine instead. Wants to go on one of those train rides where you get to drink wine, eat canapes and try to solve a mystery, thinks Winnie might be a good candidate for someone to go with her.

Ura - a ‘barn rat’, 12 and a half, white(maybe a Czech immigrant? 2nd generation?) . A cheerful, rough and tumble boy who is always climbing things, and often being told to stop when he gets too high for other people's comfort. Ura is fearless when it comes to physical feats, but has a fear of ‘slimy’ things like worms and frogs. He has a thick layer of pudge and a big appetite, but is athletic and strong enough that anyone bullying him over it would be doing it at their own peril. Not that he’s the type to start fights, or even finish them most of the time. Doesn’t feel he quite fits in with his family, who are all more serious, reserved people. Redwood is his favorite of the horses, and Keith has all but given up on telling him that sitting on the floor of Red’s stall to talk to the horse isn’t exactly safe.

Elliot - Ray and Mavis’s son, Black, 19 and a college student-maybe/probably at U of I. Lives on campus, but comes home at least a couple weekends a month. Has an older car that he and Ray fixed up together, that is his pride and joy. Quiet, with an irreverent sense of humor that he unleashes somewhat at random. Interested in robotics, engines and mechanics and generally has some project he’s working on, a piece of which may or may not be in his pocket. Often has oil, grease, or ink on his hands, either from working on or designing a new project. A bit of an overachiever, he can spread himself thin trying to live up to all his responsibilities at once. He’s best friends with Randy, a friendship his parents want to disapprove of, because the few times Elliot’s gotten into trouble not only was Randy there, but 99% of the time whatever it was is Randy’s idea, but never quite manage too.

Randy - Handyman at the ranch, mixed race Hispanic and white, 21. Technically head handyman, because the old head retired six months ago, and is a little young/inexperienced for the job, but he’s not the type to back away from a challenge and has risen to the occasion beautifully. Loves rock and metal music, and spends a lot of his free weekends at concerts, the ones crammed into little venues and bars where people are practically on top of each other and the beat is so loud and solid it throbs through you, connecting you to everyone even before you hit the mosh pit, are his preference. He’s been working at the ranch since he was 16, and feels like he has a claim on it, not afraid to speak up if he thinks a decision Keith is making isn’t right or that he isn’t taking something important into consideration. Can be a bit wild when he’s not being the responsible one, definitely doesn’t always think before he acts.

Alma - Local artist/worker at R & M’s, Hispanic, 25. Alma is a painter and poet, a confident young woman who’s figured out that half of surviving as an artist is being your own agent/a salesperson as well, and in addition to several shelves at the R & M that hold postcard prints of many of her pieces, both the coffee shop and cafe have some of her larger paintings displayed, and she always has a booth at the Saturday market, though the majority of her sales come from her website. Alma is cheerful, and likes to tease, and growing up the middle child of four brothers, is very able to hold her own in verbal sparring. She’s close with her family, still living with her parents, and while at first her father was dismayed at her choice of career, he now hands out her business card to basically everyone he talks to.

Miriam - Nell’s Mom, white, 71, a little deaf, speaks loudly, partially because of the deafness, partially because she spent too long letting other people push her around and when she hit about 50 decided she was going to be the one talking over people now. She’s earned it. Age has made her more delicate than she likes, bruising and scraping easily, but she’s determined to do most things for herself. Those that are beyond her she has no problem loudly ordering someone else to take care of. Volunteers a lot, often fosters kittens for the local animal shelter. Used to chain smoke, quit when Nell was a teenager because she kept leaving pictures of diseased lungs everywhere. Still uses the candy ones as a substitute.

Places

Unnamed Town- Somewhere in Latah County, Idaho, where there is not already a town in the way. Around 200 years old and has grown and shrunk and grown again, and currently has a population of about 12,000. Having grown out from a traditional mainstreet, _______ no longer has the western style boardwalk seen in old pictures, but it does have a large cluster of local businesses and ‘hot spots’ still along that old main street, a coffee shop, a diner, a combination bookshop and independent library, a hardware store, a bar, a few places I haven’t thought of yet, and of course R & M General. There is a historical barn half a mile or so away from mainstreet that has been converted into a theater/meeting hall/dance hall, and a community center was added onto it in the early 90’s. During the summer there is a farmer’s market on the property every Saturday. The elementary school and junior high are all on one property, several miles out of town, because the majority of families live on farms, ranches or small rural properties rather than in one of the neighborhood clusters in the town itself. The junior high is 7th, 8th and 9th graders, in a newer two story building, and the elementary school is divided into lower and upper elementary with the bracket shaped building basically being cut in half, K-3 on one side and 4-6 on the other. The high school is outside of town on the other side by several miles, and actually serves kids from another town(s) as well. There is also a trailer park with about forty units, not exactly sure where it is yet, but Miriam(Nell’s Mom) lives there. There is also an animal shelter, a vet’s office, a cemetery, and a couple churches, and I’m sure more things to come.

R & M General (working title?)- Ray and Mavis’s store, a general store with a candy focused twist. A vintage Pepsi sign, neon still bright, and a charming green glass juke-box filled with hits from the 1940’s onward grace the front porch of the R & M, along with a long bench that locals are encouraged to use for a spell or to listen to a couple songs, provided they can behave themselves (teenagers arguing over who their favorite member of the rat pack is might be amusing, considering they were already ‘mom and dad’, or at least older brother and sister, music by the time Mavis and Ray were teenagers, but when they get loud it also gets annoying.). The store itself still has the original wooden counter up front and built-in shelves along the walls, but all refinished and polished to a high shine. A mixture of display types going down the middle of the store, barrels and baskets filled with skeins of colorful yarn and cloth or Mavis’s knitted stuffies(and during winter sometimes socks and mittens), other sewing and craft supplies, display racks with local arts, postcards and carvings, sometimes wind up toys made by Elliot, and of course many, many displays of candies and chocolates. They also have a lot of dry goods, and some of the simpler candy types have little instruction booklets and the ingredients it takes to try out making them yourself stocked in the same display, drink coolers, and sometimes have local produce available. Basically, they have a bit of everything, except for building equipment/home repair supplies, and that’s because of the hardware store across the street.

Pinehallow Ranch-A sprawling 100 acre ranch in Latah County, Idaho where the Waller family has been doing something or other with horses for four generations now. Originally it was a horse breeding ranch, but Keith and Irene’s grandfather felt the money was in training horses, and offered boarding as well, and Keith has continued to build that up, offering lessons for a variety of styles, ages, and skill levels. Butting up against BLM land that allows additional grazing and trail riding, the ranch has four pastures, a large corral, a medium sized indoor arena and two horse barns, one for boarded horses and one for the ranch's own stock, and an equipment barn, an old bunkhouse that is mostly used to store feed-though Randy has slept there when in between places, mostly unbeknownst to Keith-and some smaller equipment sheds, placed where they’re needed. The main house is an L-shaped ranch house with a porch that goes around the entire long front of the house with a large herb/kitchen and rock garden arranged around that. There are treed pockets scattered here and there, left alone as the rest of the ranch was developed, but the creek Monty and Juniper sometimes hang out at is on BLM land, as is most of the forested area around the ranch.

Pinehallow Taglist @sleepysera @enchanted-lightning-aes @odysseywritings @thegreatobsesso @writing-is-a-martial-art and @hiitsolivia If anyone else wants to be added just interact with the post :) (My more advanced tumblr knowledge has led me to believe this is better than asking people to reblog/comment to be added, but if I'm wrong just let me know.)

[pinkanonwrites]

love me, please love me

Akaashi x Reader

Happy belated Valentine's day! I wanted to write a bittersweet piece for the occasion, but I caved right at the end and made it 100% sweet instead. Basically Akaashi is a delight and I wanted to see him pine, and pine hard. I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

(also the song title is from a song of the same name by Michel Polnareff, which I highly recommend listening to in order to get that yearning vibe)

Akaashi had already decided by himself at an early point in his professional career that writing romance, for all intents and purposes, was easy.

Sure, there would always be details and characters and overarching, more interesting plot to work out, but the overall premise was always the same. Two characters with undeniable chemistry, kept from admitting their true feelings because of Person X or Situation Y, rinse and repeat misunderstandings and 'almosts' until the manga was ready to end. Maybe even leave room afterwards for a cute, episodic spin-off.

Easy.

The real world, however, rarely offered such simplicities.

For example, Akaashi was in love with an office worker whose desk was once across from his, and he was pretty sure they didn't even know his name.

It's not like he'd known he was going to fall for you. How could he have? There was no chorus of angels, no heavenly light from above as the world seemed to fall into slow-motion. No. On his first day in the office you had been late, stumbled in with messy hair and a haphazard stack of manuscripts that you smacked down onto your desk, and had nearly tipped your overfull coffee mug all over the floor. He could hardly call it a good first impression. And yet…

The other workers on your floor seemed to hold you in a very high regard. He'd barely been there a week when one of his concerns had been directed to your desk.

"Ah, excuse me. Takaoda-san told me you could help with this?"

Your attention snapped up from your screen to Akaashi and the folder tucked in his hands. Noticeably confused for a split second, it took a moment before realization dawned on you.

"Oh! You're the guy who just joined! Kashi-san, right? Yeah, I can help you with that!"

You didn't even give him time to correct your butchering of his name.

Not only had you solved his problem, you'd scooted your chair to the side a bit and motioned for him to drag his own over and seat himself beside you, carefully walking him through the entire process.

"There you are! I'll just email this over to you so you have the file on your computer then."

"Yes, thank you very much."

"No problem! If you have any more questions, I'd be happy to help you out."

Your kindness, it seemed, extended to the other members of your office floor as well. Not a day would go by without Akaashi seeing at least one person hunkered down beside you at your desk in various states of disarray, waiting for your kind and composed words to soothe their frazzled minds. Clearly you were a cherished member of this office.

He was sure that the warm stirrings beginning in his chest were no more than admiration at that point.

Mostly sure.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As his status with the editing company and his understanding of the industry began to rise, Akaashi was swiftly moved up to higher departments and higher pressures, longer meetings and tighter deadlines. He no longer spent as much time on the main floor where he'd started. But he still noticed you.

You'd been the first on the floor to cheer for him when it was announced that he'd be moving to his own private office. You patted him on the back and wished him well with a big, bright smile that made his stomach do something funny he tried to ignore. Occasionally you bumped into each other in the elevator, the break room, in meeting rooms as clusters of overworked people filed in and out.

And sometimes, on darkened evenings when he was leaving the building in the dead of night, he'd see you still sat at your desk. Alone in the office space, you continued to tap away at your keyboard. He'd never considered that for all the time you spent helping others with their problems, that was time unspent solving your own.

"Kashi-san?"

He faltered a bit under your tired gaze, lurking in the doorway of the floor, having finally caught your eye. He didn't even remember to correct you, again.

It didn't matter that much, though. Not when his body was already moving without him thinking, standing at the side of your desk and placing the canned coffee he'd just bought from the vending machine on its corner.

"It's almost 10. I'm surprised you're still here."

You blinked, then laughed, a sweet melodic tune. The coffee clutched in both hands, you looked up at him so sweetly that his heart hammered in response.

"Yeah, there's a lot to get done."

"Please be sure not to overwork yourself. You're a vital piece of this company."

I will, thank you… Hey, have you eaten?"

He startled, checking his watch. "N-Not since lunch."

"Let's grab something. My treat. Consider it a thanks for the coffee."

"Ah… if you insist."

Not that he needed much insistence.

And so began a comfortable pattern as late night dinners between the two of you became all the more common. It was rare that a week went by that didn't end a long and tiring day with ramen in a cozy booth, or snack foods scarfed down outside a 24-hour convenience store, your smiling face all the warmth he needed to stave off the evening chill.

Perhaps this was where he'd first realized, when you'd held a napkin out to him to dab away the teriyaki sauce smeared at the corner of his mouth: A sudden, longing lurch to do the same, to cup your cheek gently in his hand, to run the pad of his thumb over your soft lower lip. He walked home in a daze that evening, dusted with snow and brimming with warmth and confusion.

Realistically he knew that office romances weren't uncommon. He'd read enough manga and watched enough dramas to know that. And yet, he couldn't shake the concern so easily. What if your bosses found out? What would your co-workers think?

...What if it didn't work?

The only glimpses of yourself he'd gotten outside of a workplace environment were those short, shared meals. How could that be enough to judge whether you two were really meant to work well together? Was it worth risking the fallout?

No. Certainly not. Not for a silly crush. Akaashi could wait this out, he should wait this out. Keep his distance and wait until the butterflies faded and the fires died and he was left with the same feelings he'd felt for you in the beginning, appreciation and the occasional concern.

He would be fine.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On the dawn of week three of minimizing contact with you, Akaashi Keiji was decidedly not fine.

He hadn't realized how dependent he'd become on your presence until it was unceremoniously torn away from him. Is a grown man meant to crave another person's voice so much? Their smile? Their laugh? He felt like a schoolboy again, flustered and frustrated and brimming over with emotions he wasn't sure how to outlet.

On Tuesday morning you'd come in early, clearly dressed for a date. Takaoda confirmed his suspicion a moment later when he complimented your outfit.

"I've got a blind date tonight, actually."

The butterflies in Akaashi's stomach choked and died, falling like stones into the pit of his gut. He nearly shocked himself with the single word that screamed across his rushing mind, that he didn't dare speak aloud.

No.

He felt like a jerk. He felt like a coward. He felt like a horrible, selfish child. But when you saw him standing in the hall and lifted a hand to wave, Akaashi ducked his head and hurried to his office, pointedly and obviously ignoring your greeting.

Well done Keiji, surely they would return your feelings now.

Very little got done that day. And as the clock ticked ever and ever closer to 5pm, Akaashi knew he needed to make a choice. And he knew he needed help making it.

Lifting his cell phone, Akaashi called the one person he knew could give him an easy answer.

"Hey, hey, hey! Akaashi! How are you? Aren't you at work right now?"

"Yes, Bokuto-san. However, I had an important question I was hoping you could help me with."

"Of course! Must be real big if you're calling me about it, huh?"

"Yes, it is."

Faced with the possibility of finally having an answer to his concerns, Akaashi found himself at a loss of where to start.

"Bokuto-san, have you ever had feelings for someone but weren't sure if telling them was the best idea?"

"Oho? Romance questions? Now I'm real interested!" He could hear Bokuto's big, silly grin even over the phone. "Well yeah, some of the cheerleaders are pretty hot. And you remember that guy at the ramen place who always gave me extra coupons? Pretty sure he could've been my soulmate!"

"Bokuto-san, I believe my situation is a touch more serious than a waiter who gives me extra coupons."

Bokuto maturely responded by blowing a raspberry into the receiver.

"Well, if it's that serious why haven't you asked them yourself? You've gotten this torn up about it to call me, so it must be the real deal."

"It really isn't that easy…"

"Isn't it? I mean, they either like you or they don't, right? If they do, great! If they don't, well then you can just start getting over them faster."

Akaashi found himself struggling for a reasonable response to that.

"Hey, all I can say is, you miss a hundred percent of the shots you don't take! Someone famous said that. Shakespeare, I think."

"Wayne Gretzky."

"Bless you."

Sighing, Akaashi glanced at his watch. You would probably be leaving soon. You might even already be out of the office. "...Thank you, Bokuto-san. If you'll excuse me, I need to catch an elevator."

"Sure thing bud! Lemme know how it goes!"

Click.

Akaashi's office door swung shut alongside the soft click of Bokuto hanging up. He skittered on the tile, trying to right himself as he sprinted around the corner, stopping only for a second at the window to the office floor. No one there.

He was probably too late already, why wouldn't you have left early on the night of your date? You worked so hard every other day, surely you would take the few extra minutes to prepare yourself. You were smart like that. Smart, and beautiful, and considerate, and there was no way Akaashi was going to just let you walk off with another man, not without even trying…

Around the corner, standing at the door to one of the elevators, there you were. Why did you look so… grim?

"Oh, hey!" You forced a smile onto your face as you gave him a little wave. "Clocking out on time? That's not like you."

Akaashi opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He tried again, clearing his throat hard.

"Oh, damn. Here."

You pressed a half-empty water bottle into his hands.

"Were you running? You're wheezing like crazy."

Staring down at the bottle in his quivering hands, his mouth moved before his mind could work.

"A date!"

You froze, finally focusing up on his face, staring so, so deeply into his eyes. Or maybe you were just looking at him normally. He could no longer tell. "Oh, yeah. I had one. He had to cancel."

The water bottle clattered to the floor as he gripped both your hands in his.

"Would you consider dinner, then?... With… me? Not like we usually do, this one's…. It's…."

Your hands were so warm. You could probably feel how sweaty his were. Gross. He should probably let you go before you got creeped out or-

"A date?"

"....Please."

A giddy, boisterous laugh bubbled out of you, one he had only heard after you'd downed a few drinks yourself. You squeezed his hands tight, giving him a smile that washed his anxieties away like chalk beneath the rain.

"I'd like that."

"Ah. Yes. Shall we go then?"

"We shall." You hooked your arm around his elbow, giving him a playful grin. "Lead the way, good sir."

Akaashi had already decided for himself at an early point in his professional career that writing romance, for all intents and purposes, was easy.

Living it, though? That was much harder. But he couldn't find it in himself to mind.

"Oh! Takaoda finally told me I've been getting your name wrong this whole time? Why didn't you say anything? I feel like such a jackass!"

"There, uh, a good time to mention it never seemed to come up?"

"Well I have a lot of making up to do, don't I Akaashi?~"

"I'm looking forward to it."

[lady-charinette]

Adrien Agreste =/= Sociopath - About Adrien Salt

I've seen a lot of posts going around about Adrien being a sociopath or the other (harasser, abuser...etc.)

What I find most of those posts lacking is looking at the big picture, or just zeroing in on certain moments of the show and even disregarding the context of those selected moments to unfairly rule judgement on a child (in canon) no less.

Definition of sociopath: A sociopath is a term used to describe someone who has antisocial personality disorder (ASPD). People with ASPD can’t understand others’ feelings. They’ll often break rules or make impulsive decisions without feeling guilty for the harm they cause.

People with ASPD may also use “mind games” to control friends, family members, co-workers, and even strangers. They may also be perceived as charismatic or charming.

We have to analyze the context and the surroundings Adrien is in.

Family, social life, relationships (platonic and romantic), personality, age, environment...etc.

Family:

We know Adrien has a father who is controlling, preferring to micro-manage every aspect of his son's life to continue to have a semblance of control at all times. We assume (heavily implied in the show), that his mother was kind, warm and emotional (whether that emotional is the "out-there" kind her twin sister has, it remains to be seen.)

According to a snippet from "Simon Says", Adrien also has "Quite a temper, you remind me of someone" according to Gabriel's own words, we can assume the "someone" is Emilie, Gabriel says this when Chat Noir refused to follow his orders and told him to basically "get off his high horse". In this context, anyone who defies Gabriel in such a way would either be branded as "disobedient" or to "have quite a temper".

According to Adrien himself in "Adrien's Double Life" (from Miraculous Secrets) he describes being Chat Noir as "...I can finally do whatever I want to do, say whatever comes to mind." He doesnt feel as restricted and controlled since that's the one aspect of his life his father has no knowledge of.

Social life:

Adrien has had no or very little interaction with peers.

Evidence: Chloe being his childhood friend. Felix commenting on Chloe's appearance in the video she sent for Adrien's birthday, saying "Chloe. Just as annoying as usual." suggests he knows her from before, maybe even as early on as their childhood days.

This makes Felix and Chloe the only kids, of spoiled and rich background, with whom Adrien interacted.

Felix is shown to be good at manipulating people and keeping up appearances (potentially connected to insecurities within the family? Not confirmed), Chloe is openly mean and bullies others (with underlying insecurities also connected to her parents).

The only positive adult (if Gorilla isn't as involved and Nathalie had been solely Gabriel's secretary and not Adrien's caretaker since there was Emilie) in Adrien's life would be his mother, who also fell into a coma during Adrien's formative years (and still during a time where he's figuring himself and his emotions out: puberty), leaving him with his father.

Moving on, even if the writer's sometimes may not always successfully show Adrien being awkward in social interactions, it doesnt mean they dont exist.

This interaction between him and Marinette, asking for her autograph, very formal in his question, awkward in posture:

He's picked up on some speech patterns from his frequent interactions with Nino ("dude", "Hey man." "Totally dude.") showing he's, like many people, mimicking his friend's behavior and speech to grow more favorably in their eyes.

The same pattern can be observed with Gabriel and Adrien: Adrien adopts his father's formal speech whenever talking to him, since that appeases him.

Adrien has had very limited friendly interactions with his peers, romantic interactions are basically non-existent. The scenes where Adrien is being chased by his fans, who obsessively adore him, cant be linked to Adrien experiencing healthy romantic contact (Lila doesn't count since she only uses Adrien to further her goals). Marinette doesn't count since Adrien's isn't even aware of her romantic feelings for him. (Again, difficulties picking up social cues due to only ever being homeschooled > limited social contact with peers)

So no, in my humble opinion, Adrien sometimes doesn't understand other people's feelings not because he's a sociopath, but because he's an awkward kid with very little experience about making friends and having healthy relationships with them.

Relationships:

Let's be direct here: Gabriel is an abusive as*hole.

If the writer's wanted to show Gabriel struggling or having remorse for his actions being Hawkmoth and putting his son through danger, well... They blew it. "Gorizilla" was a 5 second reaction of Hawkmoth showing concern after letting Adrien fall from a skyscraper. Applause. After that? Not much.

Nathalie: Adrien likes, she takes care of him, his schedule, was the one to convince Gabriel to let him attend public school. There are moments in the show where she softens up towards Adrien, but always carries that air of professionalism on her to (possibly, assumption) not grow too close. Gorilla is...Gorilla, but at least the man tries with his nonverbal support and affectionate grunts. Lol.

Gabriel: He loves his father. It's his parent, after all. However, Adrien's reactions to him are vastly different than to how he reacts when thinking of his mother. He shows signs of fear (tensing up, growing obedient...etc.), he excuses his father's excessive controlling tendencies to just be "he's just worried about me", "that's the way he always was", "father cares and protects me". Adrien shows to be frequently disappointed with Gabriel, one of the first scenes being that Gabriel couldn't attend parent's day at school, Adrien was talking on the phone alone in the school hallway. He was genuinely surprised by the blue scarf his father gifted him (not knowing it was Marinette), since all he used to get were pens (again, not even from Gabriel, but Nathalie). This is my assumption but: Adrien has previously begged his father to go outside more or attend public school, but this time it worked only because Nathalie managed to convince him.

Friends from school: Nino is his best friend, Adrien seems to be good friends with Alya too, basically everyone in class, with varying degrees of closeness. Chloe is a childhood friend whom Adrien is fond of but also grows exasperated with and corrects her behavior if she's too harsh.

Marinette: likes and respects her, but can't read her well or at least when he thinks he's got her figured out, she claims the opposite. Marinette has been sending mixed signals, on one hand even making Adrien believe (and fear) they weren't friends. "Chat Blanc" contrary to popular belief, showed that Adrien is delighted at the prospect of Marinette being Ladybug (he'd severe doubts when Chloe or anyone else was brought up as a possible option).

Kagami: likes her, respects her, admires her fencing skills, learned to have fun hanging out with her and playing as kids usually do since she also has a controlling parent and they both know some ways/tricks around their boundaries to sneak off and meet their friends. Adrien and Kagami have similarities in that respect, Gabriel pushing Adrien to be a model, Mrs. Tsurugi pushing Kagami to be a master fencer.

Lila: At first defended her, was friendly towards her since she was a new student from overseas he sympathized because surely it would be lonely? The new girl would need a friend who supported her through all this things that were new for him too. However, as soon as he caught wind of Lila's schemes, he changes his tune. He feels uncomfortable around her overstepping his boundaries, expresses anger when Lila accused Marinette of crimes she didn't commit and even makes a deal with her to not bother Marinette again (but use him instead, doing photoshoots together...etc.) to keep her safe.

Age:

A 14-15 year old, having lost his mother, the only positive, healthy relationship in his life. Surrounded by a controlling father, not much free time, many extracurricular activities and being a superhero alongside Ladybug.

Some of the signs of being a sociopath include: Breaking rules and being impulsive.... Didn't Ladybug do those too?

Breaking the rules: (since LB and Marinette are the same) stealing phones, sneaking into places where she shouldn't, using the miraculous for personal gain (latest example: getting Kagami away from Adrien), giving Adrien the snake miraculous due to personal preference instead of drawing logical conclusions. Sneaked into the Agreste mansion.

Impulsiveness: Marinette's daily fantasies (sharing a future life with Adrien and their hamster-who-must-not-be-named), when Lila's "precious family heirloom necklace" was "stolen", Marinette was quick to include her classmates in the list of potential perpetrators for it (without ill intent, but still..)

You know who the real potential sociopath in the show is?

Gabriel

Some of you might include Lila too (since she fits all the criteria for being a sociopath), but the key difference is: Lila is still just a kid.

We don't know much about her family life. Just that her mother is busy with work, we don't know where her father is, who her friends were/if she even had them. She might be lying and manipulating people to follow her own agenda, but she thrives in attention, when people notice and praise her. In some aspects, that could've been Adrien. With one neglectful parent, a missing parent, no friends (prior to going to school)...etc. There is also a lot we don't know about her.

[purplesurveys]

1279

Are you and the last person you kissed in a relationship or just friends?  I don’t keep contact.

Has anyone ever pointed out that your laugh was unusual?  Hmmmm, I don’t think so. I feel like that would be the type of comment that would get to me so I definitely would’ve remembered it.

Would you get a lip piercing?  I don’t plan on getting any piercings.

Nose piercing?  Nopes.

What are you currently waiting for?  For this fucking day to end so I can be closer to Thursday and to the weekend.

Do you have feelings for anyone?  Nah.

Have you ever run over an animal?  Nope. I’ve had extremely close calls with animals who suddenly dart into the road, but fortunately these have all been situations wherein I got to hit the brakes with nobody behind me.

Have you chewed gum after someone else already has?  That’s disgusting, no.

When people sneeze do you say ‘bless you’?  Sure, out of habit and just to be polite.

When was the last time you were on a bouncy castle?  I don’t think I’ve ever been on a bouncy castle, but I’ve been on a lot of bouncy other things haha, like inflatable slides, soccer balls, Anpanmans, etc. The last time would probably be a nearly a decade ago; I definitely haven’t been near one in a while.

Have you ever went on a bouncy castle whilst drunk?  Well no, because the ones I’ve been on were situated in school fairs, which is the last place I would want to be drunk in.

Have you ever entered an art competition?  No, I have no justification to join one haha.

What is one thing you will never do? Try hardcore drugs. < Same. 

What is one food that you detest?  Pineapples.

Did you have a rebellious phase growing up?  Yeah I was a bit of a handful to raise, but I’m in firm in my stance that it had a lot to do with the way I was raised. I grew up mostly without a father figure because my dad worked abroad and I felt neglected by my mom who had her own shit to deal with. There was no stable support system to lean on, so I ended up lashing out a lot in my puberty years. Unfortunately everyone else just saw a rebellious child and not a plea for help.

These days when I show off my achievements on social media, I’ll see congratulatory comments from my mom’s friends and she’ll usually go on about some “late bloomers grow with time” narrative and it pisses me off because nobody knows how much I’ve had to grow and mature and learn how to be happier all by myself, all from scratch. If I had just received the proper care and attention early on, I wouldn’t have had to do any catching up to begin with.

What religion were you brought up with? Roman Catholic.

Are you still that religion?  Jesus no. I darted out of there as soon as I gained the consciousness to think about these sorts of things.

Do you often find yourself questioning your future?  Sometimes, but I do my best to not let it get to me.

How many friends do you have on Facebook?  Over 670.

What sort of music did you listen to when you were in high school?  I started with punk rock in the first half of high school, so I had my Rancids, H2Os, Against Me!s, Cro-Mags, etc on my iPod. It evolved a little bit towards more indie, folksy sounds towards the latter half - Banks, alt-J, Hozier, Twenty One Pilots - which I largely attribute to the crowd I was part of at the time.

What pet names do you use with your significant other?  I’m pretty straightforward so baby works out for me. Other, more specific pet names just grow naturally with the relationship, I think.

What’s the name of the store you usually get your groceries?  S&R.

Have you ever seen a theatre show?  Yeah. Most of them have been required.

What’s your favourite vegetable?  Broccoli or bell peppers.

Have you ever missed a flight?  Never. I’ve experienced several delayed flights, though, which is always such a hassle especially if the delays happen in provincial airports since they never have any recreational offers to keep passengers from getting bored other than TVs that run the same damn five ads.

Do your neighbours have any pets? Have you ever met them?  Yeah, a lot of have dogs. I’ve met some.

What color is your bedroom door?  Brown.

If you were ever to become famous, would you grow annoyed at fans?  Only towards obsessive ones who wouldn’t give me time to breathe or would go so far so as to stalk me or my loved ones. But I am a fan too, so I imagine I would actually be understanding of those who would ask for pictures or whatever as long as they were polite and not at all intrusive.

Have you ever met your favourite band/singer?  Nah. I am terrified of meeting celebrities HAHA so I’ve always shut down the chance. I’m pretty sure I would actually turn down the chance to meet BTS if I hypothetically suddenly got the magic keys to that door.

Are you embarrassed by any of the songs/singers/bands you like?  No. I feel like that sort of thing just happens in like high school, when your friends are still a bit judgmental. Nowadays I don’t see why I should be embarrassed of anything I like, especially if it’s not hurting anyone.

Have you ever written a story?  I’ve made attempts but was always terrible.

Think of the last poem you wrote: What inspired you to write it?  My homework that required me to write said poem hahaha.

Do you have a chance with the person you like right now? 

What’s the weirdest thing you were scared of as a child?  Watching commercials at night. It’s still a slight fear of mine but it’s mostly dissipated now.

Are there any embarrassing stories your family tells about you?  About me? No. I don’t have a lot of those since I was a really shy kid who barely moved a finger anyway.

In your opinion, what is the funniest TV show?  I have a *really* soft spot for Perfect Strangers, which I actually revisited yesterday :) The show was never super popular so it’s near impossible to find clips online, but when I checked YouTube I did see a slight increase in short snippets from the show so I had a really fun time binge-watching yesterday.

What is the maximum number of children you’d ever have?  Three, but that’s pushing it. Ideally, I’d have two so my first would have company.

Have you ever been concerned you had a serious illness?  Mental ones, yes.

Are you comfortable with who you are?  For the most part, yes.

Would you date someone even if you knew you’d get made fun of for it?  No. Why would it be any of their business?

Does popularity matter to you at all?  I mean, yeah in the sense that I honestly aspire to be well-liked by as many people as possible. But I don’t necessarily want to rub shoulders with popular kids.

Would you ever consider homeschooling your children?  Continued from sometime this week ider. No. I don’t think I’m capable of teaching, and generally I’d want them to be able to learn in a more open environment where they can have regular contact with different kinds of people.

Who told you about the band/singer you are currently listening to?  Well Angela got into them first and since we’re best friends, there was a certain point where she just decided to loop me into conversations that involved them. I was impossible to sway for a long time, but then one day a video compilation of them showed up on my feed, and for some reason I actually watched it, and I watched all the way through, and I was immediately intrigued – particularly by J-Hope haha. I then asked Angela to tell me more about them and the rest was...financially irresponsible history HAHAHAHA

Do you ever read fanfiction?  OMG yes. Funny you should mention that because my favorite author uploaded a brand new fic this morning, which I obviously couldn’t get to all day because I had to go to work. I’ll be reading it in all its 44,000-word glory tonight :D

Would you rather die in a plane crash, ship wreck or fire?  Plane crash. Instant and mostly painless.

What are your top five favourite TV shows?  Breaking Bad, BoJack Horseman, Friends, The Crown even though I was never able to continue it since...andddd that’s all I got.

What is your favorite superhero movie?  Not a fan of superhero movies.

If you died next week, what would be the cause of death?  Stress from overworking. I’ve FINALLY started to consider taking a leave for the first time this year because I’ve just realized just how fucking exhausted, burned out, and overwhelmed I actually already am from having no rest at all in the last 13 months.

Have you ever taken a break from Facebook or other social media? Why?  Yes, I do mass deactivations when I’m severely depressed. These days I can’t really afford to that anymore, though, since my work is closely tied to social media.

Who is the most talented person you know?  Probably Andi.

Are you currently platonic friends with anyone you’ve had sex with?  No.

Where did you and your current interest go on your first date? 

Have you ever experienced two people fighting over you (physically or mentally)? What happened?  Nah. I’ve had two people like me at the same time, but there was never any tension to watch out for since they mostly didn’t know each other.

Have your parents ever thought you were gay? What happened?  I think they know I dated Gabie and that we broke up because they’ve stopped asking about her. Everyone knew we were best friends, so the fact that they’ve avoided her as a topic for a whole year is able to tell me something.

Are your parents more liberal or conservative?  Dad’s on the liberal side, mom dances around on the spectrum a little bit. I know she’s fine with things like tattoos and having LGBTQ+ co-workers, but she’s also conservative especially towards matters like religion.

What year are you going into at the beginning of the next academic year?  No longer in school.

How far away does your closest family member live?  A few footsteps away.

If you’ve seen both, did you prefer the Disney version or the Tim Burton version of Alice in Wonderland?  It’s not my type of movie/genre to begin with.

Would you have sex before marriage? Why or why not?  Yes. I don’t see the big deal; I’ve already done it anyway.

Are you more liberal or conservative?  Liberal.

Who is your favorite Harry Potter character?  Ooh not sure. I haven’t gone back to the books in a while, so I don’t remember if there was anyone I had an attachment to.

What’s the worst that could come out of letting gays marry?  Nothing.

What’s the most sexual thing you’ve done?  Had sex...I guess? And a bunch of stuff that comes with it.

Name something that you are against.  Racial discrimination.

Why are you against it?  Because it is infuriating to see, and it shows me the very same treatment can happen to me or my family as well and that scares me, especially since some people turn particularly violent towards people of color.

Have you ever played the Tomb Raider games?  No.

Do you like it or hate it when your partner is clingy?  I imagine I wouldn’t enjoy it if I’m not as into whoever my next partner would be.

Beatles or Rolling Stones?  I don’t listen to either.

When was the last time you changed your opinion on somebody?  Not so sure about a whole change in opinion because that hasn’t happened in a while, but I grew more grateful for my manager today because I finally mustered the strength to tell her that I’m begin to struggle mentally with work and she not only encouraged (read: begged) me to file a damn leave for once, but she also got sushi delivered to my place.

What was the last thing that made you feel proud and why?  Andi was telling me about their day today and how they handled being misgendered by a prof, who then proceeded to throw a fit when he got corrected, and how they, again, maturely handled said fit. I was proud of them because there are a million ways that incident could’ve turned out, but they dealt with it in an extremely mature and calm manner considering they were the one who was wronged.

Do you feel uncomfortable when people you hardly know confide in you?  If it was about an extremely personal problem I would probably be taken aback at first, but I still would definitely make some time for them and help in however way I can, since they apparently trust me enough to confide.

What was the last thing to fascinate you?  The music video for My Universe! Super cool to watch and I love that they made a short film out of it too.

Is there a certain noise/sound which scares you?  Doors being slammed shut, because that’s what my mom does when she’s furious. She did that when I was a kid and she does it to this day, so I get extremely nervous when I hear the sound, even if it happens by accident.

Do you have a favourite microorganism? Nope.

Out of the people you know, whose birthday is next?  My cousin Bree.

If you have pet fish do you bother to name them?  I did when I had them as a kid.

Do you keep your eggs in the fridge?  Yes?

Have you ever owned chickens?  Nope.

When did you last listen to music?  Like five minutes ago. I tried to have a jazz playlist on but I realized I wasn’t in the mood for music so I changed my background noise to have a random VLive on instead. 

[magnetictapedatastorage]

I’ve started keeping a list of questions, remnants of a past life that I now need a beat or two to remember, if I can remember at all: What time do parties end? How tall is my boss? What does a bar smell like? Are babies heavy? Does my dentist have a mustache? On what street was the good sandwich place near work, the one that toasted its bread? How much does a movie popcorn cost? What do people talk about when they don’t have a global disaster to talk about all the time? You have to wear high heels the whole night? It’s more baffling than distressing, most of the time.

Full text of the (excellent) article is under the cut. (The Atlantic, March 8th, 2021)

I first became aware that I was losing my mind in late December. It was a Friday night, the start of my 40-somethingth pandemic weekend: Hours and hours with no work to distract me, and outside temperatures prohibitive of anything other than staying in. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to fill the time. “What did I used to … do on weekends?” I asked my boyfriend, like a soap-opera amnesiac. He couldn’t really remember either.

Since then, I can’t stop noticing all the things I’m forgetting. Sometimes I grasp at a word or a name. Sometimes I walk into the kitchen and find myself bewildered as to why I am there. (At one point during the writing of this article, I absentmindedly cleaned my glasses with nail-polish remover.) Other times, the forgetting feels like someone is taking a chisel to the bedrock of my brain, prying everything loose. I’ve started keeping a list of questions, remnants of a past life that I now need a beat or two to remember, if I can remember at all: What time do parties end? How tall is my boss? What does a bar smell like? Are babies heavy? Does my dentist have a mustache? On what street was the good sandwich place near work, the one that toasted its bread? How much does a movie popcorn cost? What do people talk about when they don’t have a global disaster to talk about all the time? You have to wear high heels the whole night? It’s more baffling than distressing, most of the time.

RECOMMENDED READING

There’s No Real Reason to Eat 3 Meals a DayAMANDA MULL

The Pandemic’s Future Hangs in SuspenseTHE COVID TRACKING PROJECT

A Quite Possibly Wonderful SummerJAMES HAMBLIN

Everywhere I turn, the fog of forgetting has crept in. A friend of mine recently confessed that the morning routine he’d comfortably maintained for a decade—wake up before 7, shower, dress, get on the subway—now feels unimaginable on a literal level: He cannot put himself back there. Another has forgotten how to tie a tie. A co-worker isn’t sure her toddler remembers what it’s like to go shopping in a store. The comedian Kylie Brakeman made a joke video of herself attempting to recall pre-pandemic life, the mania flashing across her face: “You know what I miss, is, like, those night restaurants that served alcohol. What were those called?” she asks. “And there were those, like, big men outside who would check your credit card to make sure you were 41?”

Read: Sedentary pandemic life is bad for our happiness

Jen George, a community-college teacher from Cape Elizabeth, Maine, told me she is losing her train of thought in the middle of a sentence more and more often. Meanwhile, her third grader, who is attending in-person school, keeps leaving his books, papers, and lunch at home. Inny Ekeolu, a 19-year-old student from Ireland, says she has found herself forgetting how to do things she used to do on a regular basis: swiping her bus pass, paying for groceries. Recently she came across a photo of a close friend she hadn’t seen since lockdown and found that she couldn’t recognize her. “It wasn’t like I had forgotten her existence,” she told me. “But if I had bypassed her on the street, I wouldn’t have said hi.” Rachel Kowert, a research psychologist in Ottawa, used to have a standing Friday-night dinner with her neighbors—and went completely blank when one of them recently mentioned it. “It was really shocking,” Kowert told me. “This was something I really loved, and had done for a long time, and I had totally forgotten.”

This is the fog of late pandemic, and it is brutal. In the spring, we joked about the Before Times, but they were still within reach, easily accessible in our shorter-term memories. In the summer and fall, with restrictions loosening and temperatures rising, we were able to replicate some of what life used to be like, at least in an adulterated form: outdoor drinks, a day at the beach. But now, in the cold, dark, featureless middle of our pandemic winter, we can neither remember what life was like before nor imagine what it’ll be like after.

To some degree, this is a natural adaptation. The sunniest optimist would point out that all this forgetting is evidence of the resilience of our species. Humans forget a great deal of what happens to us, and we tend to do it pretty quickly—after the first 24 hours or so. “Our brains are very good at learning different things and forgetting the things that are not a priority,” Tina Franklin, a neuroscientist at Georgia Tech, told me. As the pandemic has taught us new habits and made old ones obsolete, our brains have essentially put actions like taking the bus and going to restaurants in deep storage, and placed social distancing and coughing into our elbows near the front of the closet. When our habits change back, presumably so will our recall.

That’s the good news. The pandemic is still too young to have yielded rigorous, peer-reviewed studies about its effects on cognitive function. But the brain scientists I spoke with told me they can extrapolate based on earlier work about trauma, boredom, stress, and inactivity, all of which do a host of very bad things to a mammal’s brain.

“We’re all walking around with some mild cognitive impairment,” said Mike Yassa, a neuroscientist at UC Irvine. “Based on everything we know about the brain, two of the things that are really good for it are physical activity and novelty. A thing that’s very bad for it is chronic and perpetual stress.” Living through a pandemic—even for those who are doing so in relative comfort—“is exposing people to microdoses of unpredictable stress all the time,” said Franklin, whose research has shown that stress changes the brain regions that control executive function, learning, and memory.

That stress doesn’t necessarily feel like a panic attack or a bender or a sleepless night, though of course it can. Sometimes it feels like nothing at all. “It’s like a heaviness, like you’re waking up to more of the same, and it’s never going to change,” George told me, when I asked what her pandemic anxiety felt like. “Like wading through something thicker than water. Maybe a tar pit.” She misses the sound of voices.

Prolonged boredom is, somewhat paradoxically, hugely stressful, Franklin said. Our brains hate it. “What’s very clear in the literature is that environmental enrichment—being outside of your home, bumping into people, commuting, all of these changes that we are collectively being deprived of—is very associated with synaptic plasticity,” the brain’s inherent ability to generate new connections and learn new things, she said. In the 1960s, the neuroscientist Marian Diamond conducted a series of experiments on rats in an attempt to understand how environment affects cognitive function. Time after time, the rats raised in “enriched” cages—ones with toys and playmates—performed better at mazes.

Ultimately, said Natasha Rajah, a psychology professor at McGill University, in Montreal, our winter of forgetting may be attributable to any number of overlapping factors. “There’s just so much going on: It could be the stress, it could be the grief, it could be the boredom, it could be depression,” she said. “It sounds pretty grim, doesn’t it?”

The share of Americans reporting symptoms of anxiety disorder, depressive disorder, or both roughly quadrupled from June 2019 to December 2020, according to a Census Bureau study released late last year. What’s more, we simply don’t know the long-term effects of collective, sustained grief. Longitudinal studies of survivors of Chernobyl, 9/11, and Hurricane Katrina show elevated rates of mental-health problems, in some cases lasting for more than a decade.

I have a job that allows me to work from home, an immune system and a set of neurotransmitters that tend to function pretty well, a support network, a savings account, decent Wi-Fi, plenty of hand sanitizer. I have experienced the pandemic from a position of obscene privilege, and on any given day I’d rank my mental health somewhere north of “fine.” And yet I feel like I have spent the past year being pushed through a pasta extruder. I wake up groggy and spend every day moving from the couch to the dining-room table to the bed and back. At some point night falls, and at some point after that I close work-related browser windows and open leisure-related ones. I miss my little rat friends, but I am usually too tired to call them.

Read: The most likely timeline for life to return to normal

Sometimes I imagine myself as a Sim, a diamond-shaped cursor hovering above my head as I go about my day. Tasks appear, and I do them. Mealtimes come, and I eat. Needs arise, and I meet them. I have a finite suite of moods, a limited number of possible activities, a set of strings being pulled from far offscreen. Everything is two-dimensional, fake, uncanny. My world is as big as my apartment, which is not very big at all.

“We’re trapped in our dollhouses,” said Kowert, the psychologist from Ottawa, who studies video games. “It’s just about surviving, not thriving. No one is working at their highest capacity.” She has played The Sims on and off for years, but she always gives up after a while—it’s too repetitive.

Earlier versions of The Sims had an autonomous memory function, according to Marina DelGreco, a staff writer for Game Rant. But in The Sims 3, the system was buggy; it bloated file sizes and caused players’ saved progress to delete. So The Sims 4, released in 2014, does not automatically create memories. PC users can manually enter them, and Sims can temporarily feel feelings: happy, tense, flirty. But for the most part, a Sim is a hollow vessel, more like a machine than a living thing.

The game itself doesn’t have a term for this, but the internet does: “smooth brain,” or sometimes “head empty,” which I first started noticing sometime last summer. Today, the TikTok user @smoothbrainb1tch has nearly 100,000 followers, and stoners on Twitter are marveling at the fact that their “silky smooth brain” was once capable of calculus.

This is, to be clear, meant to be an aspirational state. It’s the step after galaxy brain, because the only thing better than being a genius in a pandemic is being intellectually unencumbered by mass grief. People are celebrating “smooth brain Saturday” and chasing the ideal summer vibe: “smooth skin, smooth brain.” One frequently reposted meme shows a photograph of a glossy, raw chicken breast, with the caption “Cant think=no sad .” This is juxtaposed against a biology-textbook picture of a healthy brain, which is wrinkled, oddly translucent, and the color of canned tuna. The choice seems obvious.

Some Saturday not too long from now, I will go to a party or a bar or even a wedding. Maybe I’ll hold a baby, and maybe it will be heavy. Inevitably, I will kick my shoes off at some point. I won’t have to wonder about what I do on weekends, because I’ll be doing it. I’ll kiss my friends and try their drinks and marvel at how everyone is still the same, but a little different, after the year we all had. My brain won’t be smooth anymore, but being wrinkly won’t feel so bad. My synapses will be made plastic by the complicated, strange, utterly novel experience of being alive again, human again. I can’t wait.

ELLEN CUSHING

is the special-projects editor at The Atlantic.

[timetoresurface]

secrets (1) / BBH

Y/N x CEO BAEKHYUN

First part 7k words

Will be more

PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4 // PART 5

Hopping from one job to another, you really wanted to keep your position at Banking and Finance. If you would have to describe your perfect work environment, it definitely wouldn’t be at that stupid finance magazine that had the worst coffee machine in history. But hey, it did pay the bills, and that’s what everyone does, right? A perfect job doesn’t exist, right? A perfect life doesn’t exist, right? Only in cheap romantic comedies was life perfect, and you certainly weren’t in any. At least the last time you checked.

Of course, you have secrets. Everyone has secrets. It’s completely normal to have a few secrets. They’re not even that big, to begin with. For example, you haven’t told your roommate it was you who lost her favourite sweater. You could have sworn you had last seen it hanging at your office, but it wasn’t there anymore. So now she thinks she misplaced it herself, and you were in the clear of her wrath. You also hadn’t told your parents you didn’t get the promotion because you were never even considered for a promotion. You simply told your family you were just too young for such a big responsibility. Still, your company would favour you when another spot opened up. Sometimes you just like to hide a few details in your favour. You were sure you would get the next promotion if you just worked a bit harder and read less horoscopes during the day.

“Hello Y/N, would you like the usual?” Your favourite barista asked you when you entered your local coffee shop. Ever since you started working at your company, you would get the same order every morning. It didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Yes, please.” You quickly send him a grateful smile which made his ears turn a little red. Of course, you also liked the fact that said barista had a little crush on you. You’re flattered, to say the least, he was a handsome young man named Jungkook, but he was too young for you. He’s still in college for crying out loud. His mother still does his laundry. 

“Coming right up.” And of he went making you a cup of coffee with the right amount of soy milk. Just how you liked it.

“Thank you so much.” You took your drink from his hand, and your fingers brushed for just a second, but you felt nothing. He was handsome, indeed, and if you were younger, your heart would have sped up, but there was just nothing there. 

You walked the familiar route toward your office building. You worked for one of the top banking magazines, well they didn’t really call it a magazine, more like a weekly newspaper or something. You didn’t exactly know to be honest, but the most crucial part is that you have a job at a top company. You only lied about one or two things on your resume, it’s not like they check everything. It wasn’t even lying, you just added a couple of things you might not necessarily do every week, but sometimes plan on doing. You would most definitely like to invest, you just didn’t have the money or knowledge.

“Good morning, Miss Y/L/N.” The old security guy greeted you with a beaming smile. You have always been his favourite, and that’s only because you tell him to have a beautiful day from time to time. People who work in banking are most definitely not considered friendly or social or even human for that matter.

“Good morning, any wild plans for this weekend?” You asked him while you badged yourself in. 

“My grand daughter’s first ballet recital is this Saturday.” His timid smile told you everything you needed to know, he was nervous.

“How lovely, wish her luck.” You told him while giving him a thumbs-up, he gladly reciprocated. He’s kind of your best friend in this building. Sometimes you even snuck out of the office to drink a cup of coffee with the older security guard, and he would tell you all kind of stories about his family.

Your company was located on the top three floors of the building. The other levels were some other magazines you had never heard of in your life. You just needed to remember you worked for Banking and Finance, a well-respected weekly newspaper. You had only started working here a couple months ago, well almost a year now. Before that, you didn’t really do anything with money, except for spending it on useless stuff like new boots. Boots you could never wear at your office because there is a strict dress code. Men should wear suits, and women should wear knee-length skirts and a perfectly fitted blazer in neutral colours like black, blue, grey,… you know: boring clothes.

“Y/N can you please look through this research about the acceleration…” your co-worker Mina started the moment you entered the workspace. She kept on going about acceleration, and you had no clue what the hell she was talking about. You have worked here for almost a year, and you still didn’t have a clue about banking and their accessions and analysis. You quickly learned to simply nod, remember a word and browse google with said word. You weren’t caught yet, so you must be doing something right.

“… also, can you please get me some coffee?” She ended her monologue while throwing some papers on your desk. You silently nodded, and she finally left you so you could take off your coat. This was a new record, you thought, you were in five minutes early, and you still couldn’t take a breather. The moment you entered was the moment hell began. With a soft sigh, you made your way over to the kitchen area to make you co-worker some coffee she could have easily made herself. News quickly spread that you were making coffee, so everyone wanted a cup. Lazy bastards. The coffee ain't even good.

“Y/N can you please come in?” Your floor manager asked you when you gave everyone their cups of coffee. With a quick nod, you made your way over to the manager’s own desk. You were all seated in cubicles, it was to monitor and motivate or whatever, while your manager requested a private office with a glass door, which he never really closed. What’s the point of a closed office if you never close the god damn door?

“How can I help you today, sir?” You asked him while he offered you a seat. He tried not to glance at your bare legs while you seated yourself and your skirt rode up a bit. It wasn’t exactly proven, but you thought he only hired you because of your looks. Not to say you thought of yourself to be the prettiest girl out there, but you were most certainly the only women under thirty that had applied for this job. It most definitely worked in your favour.

“I want to offer you a chance to grow.” He quickly started, trying to keep his eyes on your face and not your white blouse that might have been a little see-through if you looked really hard. Which he tried not to do.

“One of our top advertisers is hosting an event this weekend, and I would like for you to be there. To represent our brand and gain a few connections.” He began, and you were delighted he didn’t use complicated banking terms you had no clue about. This you understood.

“This weekend?” You asked him uncertainly. You had made plans with your roommate to binge desperate housewives while stuffing yourself with bad food you were not allowed to eat during the week. Or at least you told your roommate you never went to McDonald’s during the week. She didn’t need to know you liked your chicken nuggets every Wednesday. It is no crime to hide your bad habits from the people you loved. 

“Yes, this Saturday afternoon. I booked you a flight for tonight, so you have maximal prepare time. Your flight back is Sunday morning. I hope you didn’t make any important plans this weekend?” He asked you suspiciously, as if he knew you had no intentions of doing anything this weekend. Well, not important plans, but they were fun plans, and you had to cancel them.

“No, not at all sir. I’ll be there at the event.” You fake smiled up at him before shaking his hand in fake enthusiasm. You really wanted to earn more money and get a promotion, but you really hated this job.

“That’s great Y/N.” He shouted after you when you exited his office, his gaze lingering on your ass. Pencil skirts were only designed to please men, and make women feel uncomfortable. 

“What was that all about?” Your colleague next to you whispered. His name is Oh Sehun, and he might be as clueless as you are. He was really hired because of his good looks, and he knew it. He knew he was handsome, and he tried to get everything out of his good looks. He got a promotion after only three months at the company without actually doing any work. 

“I’m going to an advertisers event this weekend.” You whispered back, barely hiding your proudness of the fact that you had been chosen.

“Oh, yeah I was wondering who he was going to ask to replace me. Good luck Y/N.” Sehun told you while returning his focus on his screen where he was playing some dumb cards game. It did hurt your pride that you hadn’t been chosen to do this particular task, but you could prove to  be better than Sehun. You could prove to your manager that you were ready for more and that you’re more competent than Sehun. At least you tried to remember some of the banking vocabulary unlike Sehun.

“Thanks.” You ended the conversation that had already ended for him. Looking over your desk, you noticed the research about the acceleration or something Mina had talked about only an hour ago, and you sighed. A deep and heavy sigh of someone who was lost in the woods and couldn’t find the highway even though they heard cars passing. That’s how it feels to be stuck at something you understand shit about. That’s life, my dad would say, just make sure that you can pay the bills. He should be a life coach, he’s very inspiring. Really.

—

“What should I wear? What kind of event is it going to be? Garden party? Cocktail party? High-class reception where everyone wears black party? Why didn’t they tell me?” You were sat in the middle of your room with all your clothes thrown around. Your best friend Jennie stood in your doorway with a shocked expression on her face. How could she be when she found you in this position every other weekend. 

“Calm down, we can do this.” She took your arm and made you stand up. You were both standing there and staring at the mess you made in under five minutes. Never underestimate the power of a woman under stress. They can fly high and crash all at once. It’s beautiful.

“Why didn’t they tell me?” You screamed in despair while covering your face with your shaking hands. You wanted to drop down on your knees, but Jennie held you in place.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so melodramatic. Just pack one of your work suits, a stylish black dress and maybe the cute new green skirt with white flowers if there is a garden party involved.” How did she always sound so logical? Why was she so put together? Why weren’t you like her?

“Don’t look at me like that, go and find the clothes I told you about and I will look for some shoes.” You quickly started looking for the clothes she told you about while she did her thing, organizing while in search of something. She’s a teacher, so she’s used to dramatic kids who can’t find their favourite pencil or something, so you were like a calm walk in the park compared to these kids. Well, maybe not a quiet walk, maybe more of a rushed morning jog through the park. Still better than fifteen screaming kids.

“I have a dark green suit. My perfect black dress that’s not work-appropriate but could be advertisers event approved. And I’ve got a blue summer dress if it is an outside event with fancy cocktails.” You proudly checked your mental list. This wasn’t so difficult after all.

“You also have a comfortable pyjama with you and enough underwear to be gone for two weeks. You’re good to go.” Jennie finished off your list while closing your black carry-on. 

“Are you going to get changed into something more comfortable or are you supposed to wear a pencil skirt to travel?” She asked you eying you creased skirt and half open white blouse showing of your pink bra.

“I’m just going to change into some jeans and shirt, I’m not working while I’m on the plane, right? Work only starts tomorrow at the event.” You told her while looking for your favourite pair of jeans. You could have sworn you just saw them somewhere in here.

“Get changed. I’ll drive you to the airport to make sure you’re there on time. I don’t think I could stand you without a job again.” She jokingly replied before leaving your room.

“I did do all the laundry back then.” You yelled at her.

“Yes, and my white underwear is still pink because of it.” She yelled back at you, and the both of you laughed at the memory. Why isn’t there a class to be a good housewife? You know, some cleaning and cooking classes put together? 

“I told you before, the machine did that, I didn’t do anything.” You said while walking through the apartment looking for your pants.

“Keep telling that to yourself.” She giggled while pouring a glass of water.

“I will.” 

“Please put on some pants. I don’t need to see these extremely white legs of yours.” She commanded when she saw you shamelessly running through your shared place in pink underwear. 

“I don’t know where they are.” You sighed defeated while plopping down on the orange sofa that took up whole your shared living space.

“They’re on your bed Y/N.” She sighed, and you quickly went looking for your best pair trying to avoid the stare Jennie gave you. Like you were some lost child who was in desperate need of some guidance. 

“Are you ready? Do you have everything with you?” She asked you after she drove you to the airport. You nodded your head, trying to hide the sick feeling in your stomach.

“You’re going to be fine.” She finally said while giving you a hug. 

“Of course, I’ll be fine, I’m Y/N, a fierce young woman.”

“That’s the spirit.” And with these words, she left you in the large departures hall of the airport. A place you hated. Let’s hope this is not going to be like the first episode of lost? Or worse, the Grey’s Anatomy crash in the woods episode. Lexie was your favourite. Rest in peace.

—

“Everything has been taken care of. Please enjoy your stay.” The receptionist handed you a card with a number on it, and you returned her smile. 

“Thank you so much for your assistance.” You grabbed your things and made your way over to the elevator.

“Oh, miss Y/L/N, there will be a car ready at eleven AM to get you to your destination. Please be ready.” You simply nodded your head and pressed the elevator button. Room 303. That must mean you’re on the third floor. A ping sound awakened your internal struggles to stay awake after the short flight you just had. You were never really a big fan of flying, and most definitely not alone, but you’re still alive. That’s good enough for now. 

“Hold the elevator, please.” A young man shouted before throwing his whole body into the small space. He hurriedly pressed a random button and regained his posture. His jacked had fallen off, but he didn’t do anything to fix it which weirdly irritated you. Usually you weren’t the nitpicking type.

“I’m sorry about that. I’m in a bit of a rush.” He finally noticed his blazer to be in a compromising position and fixed his appearance. He glanced into the mirror and was carelessly checking himself out. He did look good, but boy did he know it. His hands run through his hair as if it didn’t already look perfect.

“That’s okay, glad you made it safely into the elevator without losing a piece of yourself.” You deadpanned. 

“That would’ve been a disaster.” He answered you with a big smile that would make most ladies faint, but somehow only irritated you. Luckily for the both of you this is a short elevator ride, and not a three hour car ride. He wouldn’t have survived. 

“Slightly inconvenient as I’m in a rush to get to bed.” The elevator made another noise signalling your floor, and you gladly stepped out of the small space to get away from the self-centred man. 

“I’m Baekhyun by the way.” You simply stared at him before the elevator doors close themselves. Why would he even introduce himself to you? You would hopefully never see him again, so an introduction seemed a bit unnecessary to you. Never mind the guy, there are more important things to worry about.

There had been a folder with information about the event and the advertiser. Apparently, it was an essential online banking thing, and the event would be something like a walking dinner, but at brunch time. So a walking brunch. In other words, the perfect occasion to wear your flowy blue dress as it didn’t seem too uptight of an event. 

The phone in your hotel room rang, signalling your car would be ready in five. You quickly put on your shoes and grabbed your bag, making your way downstairs. You weren’t going to be late on your first solo event, you were going to be politely on time, so your company would look good.

“Hi there, going anywhere?” You turned around and looked questionably at the stranger. It was the man from last night. The man who introduced himself without reason. The man who knew how good-looking he was. You couldn’t disagree with him at this moment. He wore a light blue suit that would look ridiculous on anyone else, but somehow he made it work. He brushed the blazer behind is back and put his hand inside of his pockets. Underneath his fitted blazer was an even more fitted white shirt that left little to the imagination. You had to gather all your self-respect to not stare.

“I just like standing at the entrance of a hotel without having a reason whatsoever.” You told him while looking away from him. If someone saw the two of you now, they would think you matched outfits to go to a wedding. They couldn’t be more wrong, but you were annoyed by his perfectness. Why did he have to look so good? And why didn’t he leave you alone?

“What a coincidence, me too.” He said while he took place next to you. Not a word was exchanged, but there was something else. Awkwardness. 

“So, where are you going?” He tried to ask you again.

“Something for work. I don’t exactly know where, but I know that a car was arranged to take me to my destination. “

“I’m not lying, but I’m in the exact same situation.” He tried to connect with your eyes, but you simply kept staring down at your dress. Maybe it might be a bit too short for a work event. You were quickly interrupted when a car stopped right before you and Baekhyun. The driver quickly got out and started to bow before us. Not a simple greeting bow, but an aggressive ‘I” m sorry” bow.

“Miss Y/L/N and mister Byun. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but is there a possibility if you two could share this ride? It’s the same destination, and we’re understaffed at the moment.” The driver seemed hesitant and scared of our reaction, and you immediately felt terrible for the guy.

“If it is the same final destination, I don’t see a problem with it.” Baekhyun told the guy right before opening the door. He looked over at you and motioned for you to get in. 

“I can open my own doors.” You told him while entering the luxurious car. You hadn’t expected this from your company who always seems to be in saving mode. They could better spend the money from this car into a better coffee machine. 

“A simple thank you would have been enough.” He whispered under his breath, but loud enough for you to hear. He quickly closed your door and made his way over to the other side of the car. You couldn’t help yourself to look at him. Even when he was simply sat in a vehicle while tapping on his phone, he had this presence that couldn’t be ignored, but you tried to.

The drive was short and comfortable, but your nerves kept you wide awake. This would be your first event, and not only your first it’s also your first solo event for a company you knew shit about. How do you represent a company when you don’t know what they stand for?

“Are you nervous?” The strange man next to you asked. There was genuine concern in his eyes, but you looked away. If he was going to the same event probably meant he worked in the sector. If he worked in the same industry, he would probably be a competitor. If he was a competitor, it would be best to hide all your weaknesses, or he could take down your company in a matter of seconds. Or worse, he could make you jobless again, and you weren’t ready for that. 

“I’m excellent, but thanks for asking.” You kept your gaze focused forward, and your hands fidgeted with your short dress.

“You look great by the way. You’ll do great.” You felt his eyes burning your skin, but you tried to ignore the tension he had created with his statement.

“Thank you, but I will be great because of what I can, and not because of my looks.” 

“I didn’t mean to…-“ but he was interrupted by the driver opening your door. You quickly made your way out of the car and tried to contain your surprise. The event was huge, and by huge, you mean it to be very claustrophobic. There were people everywhere in all shapes and sizes mingling and giggling. 

“You might want to close your mouth.” Baekhyun told you while standing casually next to you. He didn’t seem to care about his surroundings. He’s probably used to these kinds of events. 

“Let’s get our name badges.” He took hostage of your hand and guided you toward the entrance of the building. It was a modern building with glass walls and plants everywhere. Some people were smoking outside with a mimosa in hand. Others were inside enjoying the view while nipping on a fancy looking sandwich. 

The event was too grand for you, and the worst part was that you felt underdressed. You have never been the type to underdress, but you’ve gotten so used to your boring office life, you made a mistake. Men were dressed in colourless suits, and women were dressed in fancy dresses in neutral colours. You checked your outfit in the mirror and cringed at yourself. You weren’t covered in a neutral colour, no you were clothed in a light blue dress that was on the shorter side with a girly floral pattern. The only design you spotted at the event were polka dots. 

“You can go first.” Baekhyun whispered into your ear right before shoving you toward the table with badges. You tried to find your name, but couldn’t.

“Can I help you miss?” A nice lady dressed in a black pantsuit asked you. She glanced at you, and you knew what she was thinking. She doesn’t belong here, let’s help her.

“Are you here with mister Byun?” She eyed you up and down, and her eyes suddenly turned venomous. 

“No, I’m with Banking and Finance. I’m replacing Oh Sehun for this event.” You ignored her glare.

“What’s your name?” You could almost hear the annoyance laced in her tone, but she really tried to hide it. What had you done wrong? 

“Y/L/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” You told here with a bright smile she ignored. 

“I see.” Was all that she said.

“Banking and Finance?” Baekhyun asked you while the woman was looking for your badge. 

“Yes.” You answered his question.

“You don’t care where I work?” He turned his back toward the table with badges so he could look at you.

“I would like to see your badge first, so I know you’re not lying when I ask you.” You simply told him, and a chuckle escaped him. He looked like someone who got everything handed to him. He looked like trouble, and you couldn’t afford trouble.

“I don’t need a badge at these events. They all know who I am.” He stated with a smirk.

“Well, I don’t care then.” His mouth twitched, and you were pretty sure he was fighting a smile.

“Here you are.” The woman gave you your badge, and you thankfully accepted. You turned back to Baekhyun.

“It was nice to meet you, mister Byun.” You said, hoping he would understand that you wanted to leave.

“Pleasure was all mine miss Y/L/N.” He said before grabbing your hand and giving it a quick peck. You thanked him one final time and made your way inside the event. 

People looked your way as if they knew it was your first time. Some people whispered to each other with a fake smile plastered on their faces. You tried to ignore the unwanted attention, but it was hard. Maybe a good mimosa would help you. 

“So, who are you?” A man in a dark green suit asked you when you returned from the mimosa stand. He was tall, incredibly tall. The man was perfection in neutral hues; his hair and eyes were the colour of dark roasted beans, but his skin was all tanned. He was skinny, but the way his clothes hung gave away the muscle beneath, and in his wake were heads turning to watch him go. You quickly glanced at his badge and noticed the name of the investor. He must be important.

“I’m Y/N from Banking and Finance.” He seemed a little impressed.

“I’m Chanyeol, and this is my event.” He held out his hand, and you gladly shook his hand. 

“You don’t look like someone who works in finance.” He simply stated, eying you suspiciously as if you had crashed his party.

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m a real employee of Banking and Finance.” You tried to lighten the mood, but this was the second person judging you from your looks.

“You must definitely do not disappoint.” You grew slightly uncomfortable, but as it was his party, you simply smiled. 

“The event most definitely doesn’t disappoint.” You tried to change the subject.

“Thank you. I’ve recently discovered the true meaning of brunch, and I might say I’m obsessed with it at the moment.” He told you truthfully before taking a big sip from his mimosa.

“How come?” You said after nipping from your drink. You weren’t here to get drunk even though you needed the liquid luck.

“My mum does brunches, I thought it was something older people did, but I was wrong.”

“You couldn’t have been more wrong. The secret to a happy life is a good brunch paired with a delicious mimosa.”

“Ah, I like you already, but I have to leave. There is someone aggressively signalling me to get to the kitchen. I apologize.”

“No problem. If there’s an emergency in the kitchen, it is more important than anything and anyone in this room.”

“I’ll catch you later.”

Chanyeol had been the opening for many men to strike up a conversation with you. They never tried to talk to you about anything finance related. Some didn’t even ask you where you worked. Some couldn’t even keep their gaze on your face for longer than a minute, and you grew more uncomfortable as the hours passed. 

“If you could, please excuse me.” You told the people around you. They simply nodded and kept their conversation going about something sports-related. 

You quickly made your way over to an empty room. You were done with these people pretending to enjoy each others company. You were just fed up with people commenting you didn’t look like someone who could work in finance. You wanted to go home, but you promised your boss you would represent your company well. You couldn’t leave before dessert was eaten.

“You can do this Y/N. Just ignore these bastards.” You repeated to yourself in the dark room like a mantra.

“Everything okay?” Baekhyun asked you, standing awkwardly in the doorframe. You quickly tried to compose yourself, but nearly knocked something down. He came to your rescue and grabbed the expensive-looking clock before it hit the ground. 

“I’m fine, thank you.” You grabbed the clock from his hands and put it back in place before returning to the party. You heard him say something, but ignored it and kept on walking. Chanyeol grabbed your attention and mentioned you to come over to him. He seemed to be speaking to some other young men in expensive suits. 

“Miss Y/L/N, let me introduce you to some important people. Everyone this is Y/N from Banking and Finance…” and that’s how he introduced you to some influential people in the business. They asked you some questions about your function, but only out of politeness as they didn’t care about what you did. They conversed with each other leaving you out of the conversation unless it was something about the event. 

You couldn’t have been happier the moment dessert came, and some people already started to leave. Chanyeol tied to convince you to stay longer, but you lied to him and told him you had to get straight to the airport as you were already late. He personally helped you book a car that would take you to your hotel in no time. 

You needed a drink. You needed a massive drink that could calm your nerves. Luckily for you, your company had booked you a room in a hotel with a big fancy bar. You know that kind of bar where they serve every drink imaginable. Their menu had four pages dedicated to cocktails only, and you couldn’t have been happier. Well, you would have been happier if the event would’ve gone better. No one would remember the presence of Banking and Finance at this event, and that was all on you. 

“What can I get you?” The bartender asked you nicely, and you simply told him the first cocktail that had caught your eye. Something with passion fruit. “Coming right up.” He said you before starting your drink.

Why were you such a mess? Why couldn’t you be smart like the others? Why couldn’t you just lock yourself up for a week and study everything you needed to know about banking. You don’t write any articles, you don’t get invited to big meetings because you’re known as research girl who makes coffee. The bartender gave you your drink, and you almost drank the whole thing in one go. He looked at you strangely, but you simply nodded your head. His hands immediately started to make you another, and you couldn’t care if he made you the same drink or something else. You needed the sweetness of the drink to remind you of good summer times with your friends during college. You needed the alcohol to burn your throat to tell you of the times when you were too drunk to function. Too drunk to be reminded of the fact that life sucks, and you really thought life would be better at this age. 

You continued your drinking speed for a good hour, and four cocktails were already swimming in your stomach. You felt the light buzz, and your eyes started to wander. A man is drowning his sorrow in the elixir at one end of the bar, and a young couple flirts shamelessly at the other end with the nectar in hand. The drug seems to have very different effects, depending on the situation of its consumption. There’s a slightly larger woman in the corner table. She holds in hand a large beer, and there is a plate in front of her that seems to hold the remains of what was a serving of nachos.

“Miss Y/N!” Someone called out your name from behind you, and you immediately recognized the low voice of mister Byun Baekhyun, the devil himself. “I thought you were headed straight back home. Didn’t you have a flight to catch?” He asked you while seating himself beside you at the bar. He signed the bartender for a whiskey, and in under a minute he was drinking next to you. Uninvited.

“Aren’t you going to answer my questions?”

“Do I have to?” You took another nip from your drink. You really needed to drink more to ignore the annoyance you felt when Baekhyun was near.

“You can also tell me something about yourself.” He told you. The left side of his lip tugged upwards creating a sinister smirk on his god-like face; casting a spell of lust to eyes that dare look his way. You looked away.

“Please annoy someone else while I’m still asking nicely.”

“Bad day?” He asked you, all cockiness aside. Again he surprised you with a genuine interest in your wellbeing.

“You were there.” You finally gave in and turned yourself toward him almost falling from your chair. 

“You were always surrounded by people. Isn’t that what these events are meant for?” He asked you with confusion in his eyes.

“If these people were interested in my work and my company it would have been fine. It could’ve been great actually.” You tried to explain to him, but he still didn’t understand your troubled mind. He thought you did well.

“They were interested in you.” He tried to reason with you. Boy, has he even spoken to a tipsy girl? You don’t just reason with them, you listen and silently nod.

“Yes exactly. In me, and not my company.” You started to grow more frustrated. Every sip you took from your drink got you more fired up. 

“Do you like your company that much that you would let it steal your spotlight?” He asked you bewildered. He didn’t seem to understand why you would hide in the background.

“I don’t actually, but I would like for once to be appreciated for what I do and not for how I look like.” This got him to be more understanding.

“Well, tell me something about what you do.” His question caught you off guard. You ignored his stare while ordering a new round for the two of you. 

“I don’t want to bore you.” You finally told him after a moment of silence.

“We work in the same field. I don’t think you can bore me that easily.”

“You’re doing it again.” You sighed, resting your head in your hands in defeat. Men just didn’t understand. They were always looked at with respect.

“What?” The liquor made his cheeks turn red, and you almost wanted to touch them. Almost.

“I want to bore you with my knowledge. I want people to look up certain words after they had a conversation with me. I want to bore people.” Your voice grew louder, but Baekhyun didn’t say anything about it. He seemed to be rooted in thought.

“Are you confident that you can bore me?” His voice sounded calm and collected, but his eyes showed an intense passion. 

“Of course not.” You sunk lower in your seat while taking a sip from your new cocktail. That was your fifth in under two hours. New record.

“That’s your first mistake.” He firmly stated. He straightened his back when he realized you were intently looking up at him.

“What?” You asked him when he didn’t continue his inspiring monologue. 

“You need to be more confident. You need to believe you can bore me with your knowledge. You need to be convinced that I will look up words on google after our conversation.”

“Look, thank you for listening and helping, but you can’t help me with being reasonable.” You turned away from him, hoping this would end the tiring conversation.

“What do you need me to do?” His gaze lingered on you, but it didn’t feel awkward.

“Don’t be reasonable.” You simply stated with your fingers wrapped around your drink like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

“Is there anything else bothering you?” 

“I hate my job Baekhyun. Everything is bothering me.” You spit out, and you immediately regretted your tone. You might not have been the nicest to the young man, but he didn’t deserve the attitude you were serving right now. He didn’t seem fazed by your rudeness.

“Why don’t you just quit your job?” The question was so damn simple but was so much more complicated to answer.

“It’s not that easy.” You finally said.

“How come?” His eyes tried to find yours, but you were deliberately avoiding his gaze. You didn’t want to see his pity. 

“Because that would be my third failed career.”

“Some people need time to find out what they want to do in life. That’s okay.”

“It’s not. I’m almost in my thirties, and I’ve accomplished nothing.”

“I hardly believe that. What is troubling you?”

“I check other people’s research. I bring them coffee, and let me tell you something: the coffee isn’t even that good. It’s terrible. I refuse to drink that tasteless brown liquid. They spend money on a fancy car to drive me to an event, but they can’t even spend money on a better coffee machine…”

“… I’ve lied to get this job. I told them I spoke French and that I had experience in investing. Like what the hell would I invest in? A shoe? My bank account never reaches anything above 100…” You were on a roll. Baekhyun had opened the gates of your personal hell: the inside of your brain.

“…And don’t get me started on Oh Sehun. He barely puts in any effort, and I’m not saying that I’m an angel in that department, but I at least try to understand the shit people are saying. All he does is play card games all day long, and try to suck up to people…”

“…My parents are also so proud of my new job, and they tell me that everyday. I can not just leave something when it makes my parents proud. I’m glad they forgot about the time I wanted to start my own catering business. I’m still paying off all the debt that stupid thing caused…” You continued with the word waterfall that came out of your mouth unwillingly. Why didn’t you just stop? Baekhyun didn’t care, but he kept listening to your rambling.

“…How was I supposed to know that family got bankrupt right after the wedding I catered? How was I supposed to know?…”

“…I never told my roommate I slept with her boyfriend the day after they broke up. What kind of person am I? Who does something like that?…” His eyes stayed on your face, never scanning your body, and you felt oddly comforted. 

“… Maybe I should give the coffeeshop guy a chance. He’s the only one willing to have sex with me when I wear these hideous and most importantly, boring outfits for work. He deserves an award for that, so I should just give to him right?…” He kept sipping from his drink while you had your meltdown, but he wasn’t judging. His eyes were unreadably, but there was no judgment in them. Of that, you were sure. 

“… My ex is engaged! Can you imagine? That’s my second ex-boyfriend who got engaged with the girl that came after me. I did all the hard work of training him to be better, and she just got it for free. Without fights or dirty stuff in the bathroom. How does that make me feel? Well, let me tell you, I feel like shit that everyone I date seems to find the one after we break up. I had to explain to him that cumin in me doesn’t equal me having an orgasm for crying out loud. I did that for the other girl …”

“… My colleague Mina is the biggest bitch in the office. Everyone likes her and adores her, but she’d walk all over them to get what she wants. She knows I don’t know anything about banking, so she always gives me the most difficult tasks. I think she wants to break me, but I wont. I water her plant with coffee sometimes. I want the plant to die…”

“… Why does the coffee suck at work? Why don’t they give us something better? Coffee is a basic thing, you know. I deserve some good coffee…” You looked into his eyes and realized you had just blurted out all your secrets to a stranger. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to burden you with my problems.”

“I did ask what was troubling you.”

“I feel dizzy. I’m heading up. Until hopefully never.” You quickly got up and made your way to the elevator, ignoring Baekhyun’s calls. You were too embarrassed and too drunk to deal with him. You need sleep, and maybe a good cry. He tried to catch up to you in the elevator, but you pressed the button to close the doors. 

[artificialqueens]

Pretty in Pearls, Chapter 5 (Jankie) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 💄| previous chapters

A/N: hi! here's a short update but I still hope you enjoy it! thank you for reading it! <3

-5-

“Good evening, welcome to Lucky’s… I’m Jan, how can I help you?” She smiled brightly.

The flash of Crystal’s phone almost blinded her.

“Aw, look at you. First day of work!” The ginger cooed.

“They grow up so fast.” Jaida pretended she was crying.

Crystal was definitely crying.

“You guys…” Jan whispered. “I work here now… try to keep it cool… please?”

“How dare you? We always keep it cool.” Nicky crossed her arms on her chest.

“Aren’t we banned from that bar in the city?” Heidi asked.

“Technically, that wasn’t our fault…” The blonde mumbled.

Jan counted the people in the group; Widow and Gigi were there too, Widow was telling Gigi something but the girl was a bit too concentrated on certain ginger –she had said yes to their invitation in the blink of an eye when they told her Crystal was going to be there- Rosé and Lagoona would arrive after their rehearsal but still…

“Where’s Jackie?” Jan tiptoed, looking around.

“She had to close the copy room and told us she would meet us here.” Jaida explained.

“Oh… okay.” Jan displayed a new smile. “I’ll take you guys to your section.”

She walked the group to the booths and assigned them two tables next to each other –they were going to need a third table by the time the other girls arrived but for the moment, it would do- she distributed the menus and left them to check her other clients just like Denali had taught her earlier that day.

She had met some of her co-workers -there were other two waitresses working that night, Kandy and Olivia, Olivia was a sweetheart meanwhile Kandy was hilarious- and the day manager, Britta; for what it seemed, the night manager not being there was a recurring thing so Denali walked her carefully through every detail. She explained how the register worked, how to add tables and mark them as occupied or free, she also told Jan about the standards and rules with the diners, what to do, what not to do… and when she thought Jan was ready, she sent her to her first table ever.

“And don’t worry, if something goes wrong you can always say that you’re new and get away with it. I still do it sometimes.” Denali shrugged. “But I’m convinced you’ll do well.”

Jan did perfectly; she served two high school students who stopped by right after school. They ordered milkshakes and Jan was more than excited to prepare their drinks and deliver them while wearing a dazzling smile. They left a good tip for being teenagers so she took that as a good sign.

And obviously, her friends were going to drop by on her first day. She just hoped that Denali wouldn’t scold her in extension so she had asked them to behave… as much as they could.

Rosé and Lagoona walked in next.

“Look at you, baby!” Rosé celebrated her roommate. “Stunning!”

“Let me have a glance.” Lagoona gestured for her to twirl.

“Y’all…” Jan blushed but did as requested showing off her red and white striped uniform.

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you in a dress or a skirt.” The pink-haired girl noted. “I’m not counting the skorts you wore when we went bowling.”

“You didn’t want me to wear sweatpants to it.”

“Bitch…”

Jan had no proofs or doubts Rosé would have burned the skorts if she had the chance. She knew it was a questionable fashion choice but hey, they surely were comfy.

She also hoped she never told Nicky or Gigi about them.

“Everyone is here already… well, except for Jackie, she’s kind of running late.” Jan guided them toward the booths.

The other girls immediately cheered when the other two girls joined as if they hadn’t had lunch all together the day before.

“I’ll check on you in a minute.” She said before running to the table that was calling for her.

Rosé’s words echoed on the back of her head. She didn’t have anything against skirts or dresses only she had never consider buying one for herself. Other girls looked ethereal with them but Jan still had war flashbacks from that time she attempted to buy a dress for her graduation with her mom… it hadn’t gone well.

Plus, sports clothes always fit her and were practical.

Denali had offered both options –the candy cane striped dress and an alternative set of pants and a white shirt with an apron- but she had opted for the dress for some reason. She wanted to fit into that environment and copying the black-haired girl seemed the first step to it. Trying it on had been a bit weird; she almost didn’t recognize herself in the mirror but the more she looked at herself the more she liked it.

At that moment, Jackie arrived.

She was apologizing even before completely trespassing the door when she lifted her gaze and met Jan’s eyes.

“…and I’m sorry for…” She began losing her ability to speak as she got in a trance.

Seeing Jan always gave Jackie butterflies on her stomach –the good type of butterflies- and she wasn’t going to admit it to her friends not even in a million years because she wasn’t the kind of girl who believed in something as cheesy as butterflies but most importantly, she had promised herself she wasn’t going to fall for that again.

But there she was, with that smile that made all the other smiles in the world irrelevant.

Seeing Jan in a dress made her brain malfunction –not because of the dress itself but because the girl was glowing while wearing it.

Jackie wetted her lips, she had forgotten what she was going to say.

“So… what do you think?” She stretched the dress with her hands. “You can be fully honest.”

No, she couldn’t.

“You look… very happy.” The brunette made a great effort to reply. “You look nice.” This time the words came out a bit more articulated.

Jan smiled, satisfied with that answer. “C’mon, the girls are over here…” She started walking and Jackie followed her. “Don’t you love this place? It looks like it’s been ripped out of the fifties or something.”

For the first time, Jackie actually paid attention to the diner.

“Oh, that’s right… the aesthetic…”

“Hey girls, Jackie’s here!” She announced.

“Miss Cox!” Heidi yelled.

Suddenly the table turned in her direction; they created a fuss, full sentences or loose words were hardly able to comprehend but Jackie was used to it, she spoke the loud language better than anyone. She looked at Jan before sitting with the rest of the group and cracked a secret smile just for her then she rolled her eyes and got entangled in one epic story about the time a cat crashed in the dorms.

Jan cleared her throat and asked very nicely if she could bring them something to drink. She listed soft drinks, mostly cherry coke, regular coke, diet coke, Sprite, and an ice cream soda for Crystal. She walked behind the counter and pressed some buttons to make sure she got it all correct.

It took her a moment to understand the computer’s system for the tables as in the abstract but now that she had some practice with it, she was getting faster at it. She charged table eight and then added a new order of fries for table twelve and finally opened the bill for her friends.

Denali approached her at some point while she was juggling with a couple of trays.

“Hey, how’s it going?” The black-haired girl asked. “Are you okay handling that big group by yourself?” She typed some numbers and printed the receipt without blinking.

“Ah, yeah… Don’t worry, they are all my friends.” It was the first time she had said it aloud and it filled her with pride.

Denali looked at the table; it was a colorful ensemble of people that were having a blast. They were loud and they burst into laughter every couple of minutes. Jan spotted Widow covering her face with second-hand embarrassment while she was laughing underneath, Heidi cackling next to her, Nicky and Jaida holding hands but still participating in the debate, Rosé holding her stomach, Lagoona trying to add something but cracking up as soon as she started a sentence, Gigi with a blank stare trying to discover what she had said that was so funny, Crystal in an attempt to explain it to her –laughing still- and Jackie shaking her head, knowing the situation was irredeemable.

Those were her friends and it filled Jan’s chest with warmness to see them there on her first day of work.

“They came here to support you?”

Jan nodded.

“Aw, that’s so cute!” Denali beamed. “Let me know if I can help you with their order though.”

“I probably will… they already found out there are mozzarella sticks in the menu and when they say «bring mozzarella sticks» they mean all the mozzarella sticks.”

Denali chuckled. “Alright.”

Jan returned to the tables with the drinks and placed them carefully remembering who ordered what. Her friends ordered a ton of food and she had to write it down and register the order on the computer.

They were talking about Rosé and Lagoona’s latest news, they had started preparing the winter musical for a class but one of the girls that were taking part had to step out of the play.

“She said she didn’t want to brag but honestly, Sydney, who the fuck cares if you’re doing Hamilton now?” The blue-haired girl sighed. “Anyway, so we need to recruit someone else this month to play that part.”

“What’s the play about?” Widow asked.

“We’re honoring the one and only Lindsay Lohan and decided to adapt the fictional musical Eliza Rocks from Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen.” Rosé explained.

“So… Pygmalion?” Gigi frowned.

“No, no… well, yeah… It is Pygmalion but with a twist… a remake if you like.”

“So the Glee version of Pygmalion?” Heidi tried to connect the dots.

“There’s nothing new under the sun anyway.” Rosé gave up.

“We still have to, write the music and the script… but that’s the big project of the drama department.”

“We could help you with the costume design,” Nicky suggested. “That could be interesting.”

“I don’t know if-” Gigi whispered.

“I love all the theatrical stuff, can I help you?” Crystal volunteered.

“Alright, yeah… we’re helping with the costumes.” The other blonde corrected herself.

Jan shook her head and left them to discuss other details.

She was tapping the screen of the computer when Jackie sat on one of the stools of the bar.

“Look how the tables have turn… Literally.”

Jan giggled. “Right? The food will be ready in a second… I’m just finishing here.”

The brunette watched her work. “You know, that role on the play Rosé and Lagoona are putting together… you could do it.”

Jan stopped what she was doing and stared at Jackie. “What? Me?” She shook her head. “No, no… I just sing in the shower and when I’m alone… that’s it. I’m not a singer and I’m not an actress.”

“You could be one. Nobody was born knowing but you can learn. I’m sure they’d love to have you on their production.”

“Jackie, I don’t know… It’s really not my thing. Besides, they already have a lot of work to do, I don’t want to delay them even more.”

“It sounds to me that you would be doing them a favor. Just… think about it. This is the perfect time to try new things… maybe.”

“I won’t promise anything.”

“Alright.” Jackie stood up. “By the way, you should bring extra ketchup… talking from experience.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

Jan delivered the food with Denali’s help as she had suggested and then let them enjoy it until it was her time to call it a day, hang her apron and change her dress.

“Great job today. You're a good new addition to our staff.” Denali congratulated her on the back of the restaurant.

“Thank you! I’m glad that you hired me.”

“Don’t even mention it. Now go have fun with your friends.” She winked at her and left Jan to collect her things.

She then saw with her friends and let a big sigh out of her chest.

“The first day is over…”

Her friends congratulated her as well and took turns to compliment her as if it was a Yelp review.

“Let’s make a toast for Jan’s new job!” Jaida raised her glass in the air.

“For Jan!” The table cheered in unison.

“Five out of five stars, excellent service.” Heidi qualified.

“Speaking of…” Rosé whispered just for Jan to listen. “Who is that girl that helped you earlier?”

“Denali? She’s basically my supervisor at this point and she hired me.”

“She’s cute… like… very cute.”

Jan had never seen Rosé blushing until that moment –not even when Heidi had dropped some of her –arguably- best pickup lines during one lunch.

“Oh, so you think she’s cute?”

“Do you know if she’s single?”

“I’ve worked here for a day or so…”

“More than enough time.”

“I can ask her later but she’s like my boss now, you have to promise me you’ll be chill.”

“Baby, have you seen the people around us? I’ll be the chilliest of them all.”

That wasn’t the most reassuring thing to say.

The second week, Jan was more used to her work but her teachers started setting deadlines, and with her baseball practices on top of everything else, she ended up being exhausted by the time her head touched the pillow.

After a long day, the only thing she wanted was to take a long hot shower and put on some pajamas. She walked into the hallway, yawning and carrying her little bathroom basket with shampoo, soap, and a towel.

She had followed Nicky’s advice and always wore flip-flops to the shower. The bathroom was covered in steam most of the time so the girls had to clean the mirrors to brush and dry their hair hoping to see their reflection.

Jan politely greeted two girls from the dorm and got in the shower before closing the curtain. She heard the door as the two girls left and with that, she was left alone. She turned on the shower and let the water cover her entirely to wash off all the stress of the day.

While shampooing, she unconsciously started humming some random song she had heard on the radio earlier in the diner. She closed her eyes and got under the shower when someone moved the curtain.

“I knew it!” Rosé yelled. She had her pink embroidered bathrobe on and her hair was dripping wet.

Jan screamed. “Rosé!” She covered her body with the plastic curtain. “Holy sh… You nearly gave me a heart attack… I thought we had agreed on no Pitch Perfect reenacts.” Her heart was beating faster than ever.

“I didn’t know it was the whole movie, I thought it was just the songs… you know, I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes-” She hummed.

“Rosé…” The shower’s water continued running. “Get out.”

“Okay fine.” The girl closed the curtain. “But I heard you before, you hum when you’re happy.”

“Yes? Like a normal person?” She said on the other side.

“No, no… you’re good. Why didn’t you tell me you were good?”

“Because I’m not a singer… I don’t sing like you or Lagoona.”

“But you could! This is great… I knew you were good.” She repeated.

“Wait a minute, were you waiting for me to come shower?”

“No bitch, I was exfoliating… I wasn’t stalking you.”

“Okay… sure… this definitely crosses some boundaries but okay…”

“Sorry about the curtain thing but hey, here’s a fun idea… you should drop by the auditorium tomorrow. We’re holding auditions this week and I’m just saying… you could be what we need.”

Jan finished showering and stepped out wrapped in her towel.

“Look… I’m flattered that you even consider me good but I’m not… musical theatre material, trust me.”

Rosé stared with supplicant eyes. “I know you can do it… but alright.” She raised her hands in the air in surrender.

She sighed. “Listen, Rosé, I’d love to help you but my plate is full right now… I wouldn’t be able to do it all.”

“Don’t worry… I won’t insist and I won’t bring the subject anymore just… please, consider it overnight. You don’t have to say no right away.”

“Fine… can I brush my hair in peace or is Lagoona going to jump out the sink and start a number about why I should sing?”

“We don’t have that budget but I’m sure she can improvise a song if that’s what it takes.”

“See you in the room and remember that you can’t bring this up again.”

“For someone who’s cheerful all the time you surely are picking traits from Miss Jackie Cox, aren’t you…?”

Jan blushed. “No, I’m not…”

The following day, Jan found herself roaming outside the auditorium for no particular reason.

Well, that was what she kept telling herself.

Because she wasn’t there for the auditions.

No.

Not at all.

She took a deep breath before walking in.

Luckily, most of the auditorium was empty except for the stage where most performers were still doing warm-up exercises and no one noticed the presence of the girl when she entered. Instead of standing still in the middle of the rows, she sat at the back and hid behind another seat hoping no one would spot her from there.

That was a mistake, she wasn’t supposed to be there.

She had told Rosé she would think about it but she chickened out the second she stepped in.

The rehearsal began and some of the members of the club started reading fragments of the play. It was really funny, Jan found herself holding back her laughter at some dialogues and performances. Lagoona played the piano and Rosé sang along with her and some other students joined for the chorus of the song.

It was mesmerizing to watch it from afar and maybe that was all she had to do. She could be supportive this way, without getting too involved.

“Now, what on Earth are you doing here?” The voice made her startled until she noticed it was Jackie who was now hiding next to her.

“Shhhh… keep it quiet. They don’t know I’m here… wait, why are you here?”

Jackie was so close, Jan could smell the green apple notes of her perfume.

“After my shift ended, I went to the administration office to talk with the dean and when I left I saw you walking in.” She explained.

“Ah… well, I’m leaving already so…”

“Please, don’t mind me.” The brunette assured. “So, what really brings you here?”

“Rosé is trying to get all Pitch Perfect and recruit me for this. She heard me sing in the showers.”

“Understandable. I’d call it the troyboltonification of Jan.”

“I’m not… I won’t get troyboltonificated. I’m here just to… take a look… That’s it.”

“Aha, sure.” She didn’t sound convinced. “What is holding you back from this? Obviously, you want it.”

Jan lowered her gaze. “Back in high school… I secretly wanted to participate in the drama club but the rehearsals were at the same time as my baseball practices and well… I always picked baseball over it because that’s what I’m good at it… plus it was an excuse to hang out with Nathan after the practice.”

“I see…” Jackie mumbled.

“Besides, I didn’t think I have what it takes… yes I can hit a couple of notes but that…” She pointed at the stage. “What they do there is art.”

“Listen… you’re not in high school anymore. It might be difficult to juggle the extracurricular activities with your studies and work but… if you want this, you should give it a try.” Jackie said candidly, her eyes reflected the sincerity of her words. “If it’s not for you, at least you can say you tried it.”

“Do you really think I could do it? I mean, being in front of a stage like them?”

“I’m certain about it. Some people might be born with it but I’m sure they had to practice a lot anyway and they probably failed more than once before they could get better. It is easier to say it than doing it but you’re a spitfire, if you put your mind to it you can do anything.”

She smiled even though they were in the darkest place of the auditorium.

“Thank you, Jackie. I don’t know what I did to deserve a friend like you, seriously.”

“Whenever you need it.” She smiled back.

Then, Jan stepped out and walked down toward where the stage was.

“Hi!” She approached shyly the people there, Lagoona stopped playing and Rosé was more than happy to see her. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you guys but I was told you have a vacancy for a role…”

The pink-haired girl jumped out of the stage. “Fellas, this is Jan… she’s my roommate and she has a great voice. I think we could use her talent here.”

They welcomed her warmly, introducing the team.

Jan turned around before going on stage and Jackie gave her a thumbs up.

“Break a leg.” She murmured even when the younger couldn’t hear her from there.

[naraesong]

⚛ °｡ im nayeon, twenty-five, cisfemale｡° ⚛ i hear TO DIE FOR BY SAM SMITH every time i see NARAE SONG walking around town. denton’s finest is an AUTHOR, and has lived here for TWO YEARS. HER friends would say they’re the SACCHARINE of the group. maybe that’s because they’re ALLOCENTRIC & CONCILIATORY. that doesn’t mean they don’t act GULLIBLE & COWARDLY. maybe those are just rumors. considering they’d describe themselves as houseplants scattered all over the house, the pitter-patter of rain hitting the pavement, leaving kiss marks on a love letter, quietly humming while doing chores, and tattered journals spread out across cafe tables. i guess you’ll just have to come see for yourself.

helloooo everybody, you can call me hazel and this is my baby rae ! you can find a few stats, a quick little background, and some connection ideas below the cut but i’d love to plot with each and every one of you, so don’t hesitate to come to me if you have something else in mind altogether or if you’d prefer to brainstorm something out instead !

STATS:

full name: narae song

nickname: rae

age: twenty-five

birthday: june 25th, 1995

gender & pronouns: cisfemale, she/her

sexuality: bisexual

career: author & part-time barista at bb books and brews

hometown: denton, nc

currently residing in: a studio apartment in the historic district

BACKGROUND:

born and raised in denton, most of her past was pleasantly uneventful.

she grew up in a loving household, with parents who loved her just as much as they loved each other. and although money had sometimes been tighter than any of them would’ve liked, and her parent’s jobs were often demanding or stressful because of that, they never lost that sense of family as they navigated it all together nor did her parents ever allow it to alter their disposition.  

despite how much her parents try to shyly brush her off each time she tries to tell anyone this; she thinks growing up like that, in an environment where love was such a wonderful focus and where it seemed impossible to not believe in the power of it, turned her into the hopeless romantic that she is today - and inspired most of the stories that she now wants to tell.

but whenever she turned eighteen, she ended up deciding to leave that environment for the first time in her life as she was offered ( and accepted ) a scholarship to duke university that would allow her to obtain the english degree she’d always wanted - but would also require her to live at the dorms, hours away from where she called home.

being on her own for the first time without the comfort of the places or the people she’d always known had been, at times, overwhelming. but, after five years of balancing college and various part-time jobs to give her the experience she needed, she finally graduated with a bachelor’s degree in english. 

she didn’t hesitate to immediately move back to denton once she graduated, having missed the comfort of her hometown desperately while she’d been away. however, a few things did change once she got back in town; she got her own studio apartment in the historic district instead of moving back in with her parents and she also quickly found a job as a barista at bb books and brews to help pay her bills while she began working on her first book. 

after working on it for two years and submitting it to multiple literary agents and editors, she finally got a call back and was able to have it published earlier this year. it was more successful than she could’ve ever anticipated and it has attracted an unexpected amount of attention toward her along with it’s release as well.

she’s starting to feel the pressure of all that new attention ( and criticism ) but her new literary agents has helped to manage a lot of it and she’s still happier than she could’ve ever imagined. she only hopes she won’t choke under the pressure and lose it all with the second book she’s ( not ) begun writing.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

high-school sweetheart / past long-term relationship ( bonus points if they broke her heart somehow along the way )

roommate 

co-workers / frequent customers at bb books and brews

childhood friends ( and / or maybe an unspoken or unrequited childhood crush )

her literary agent / editor ( i know that’s very specific but ... please )

people that she met while she was away in college ( they went to the same college as her, they met at one of the part-time jobs she held while she lived there, etc )

current crush / muse ( she’s a hopeless romantic and she may or may not ever stand a chance with this person but she still finds her greatest inspiration for new storylines whenever they’re around and finds her heart racing long after they’re gone )

best friend

[catsafarithewriter]

For the prompts- "Is that a new hat? Nice, very pointy. Classic.” and/or “It’s not my fault! You make it all too easy to laugh at you.” Muta and Toto shading each other or Haru and Baron.

A/N: Someone already requested the “it’s not my fault!” prompt, so I’m going for “Is that a new hat? Nice, very pointy. Classic.” This is another Soulmate AU, because apparently I’m weak for playing with the concept. :D

Basically: there’s a business for everything. Even soulmates. 

(Also the first scene is inspired by The Librarians TV show. Also… this got long. Like... 6K long? I regret so much.)

x

Humbert von Gikkingen - or Baron, to the few that knew him - didn’t receive many visitors while working in his quiet little corner of the Bureau of Soulmate Regulation. 

Or any, if one didn’t count the handful of co-workers he shared the Sanctuary with.

So when there came a quiet knock at his office door, he didn’t bother to look up. Of the few co-workers he had, even fewer bothered to knock. Instead, he pulled up another file and began to write up the results. “Toto, if this is about the radio, I promise I barely went near the infernal machine, and Muta is the one responsible for the coffee machine–”

“What happened to the coffee machine?”

He snapped his head up and was greeted not with the tired expression of the Head of the Bureau of Soulmate Regulation, but of a woman he didn’t recognise. For a moment, he glanced behind him as if  half expecting there to be someone else she had come to see, before remembering he was the only one there. “Can I help you?”

“I, uh…” She faltered as she looked at him, her gaze slipping from his eyes and pausing instead on the ginger fur, the feline ears, the tail sweeping behind him… Then she visibly remembered her manners and dropped into a hasty bow. “I’m Haru Yoshioka. I’ve been hired as your… facilitator, I think?” She rose out of the bow, her face reddening. “At least, that’s assuming you are Humbert von Gikkin- Gikkanin-”

“Gikkingen,” he supplied. “Yes, I am, and no, I do not need a facilitator.” He returned his attention to the file at hand. “Door’s behind you; I presume you can find your own way out.”

She didn’t move. 

He glanced back up. “I’m sorry, does something seem to be confusing you, Miss Yoshioka?”

“Well… kind of.” Her hands were dancing over a slip of paper, turning it over and curling the edges. “It’s just, the letter I got seemed quite sure…”

He now saw the paper was a beautifully embossed piece of card, more akin to a wedding invitation than a letter, and his stomach sank. He held out a hand. “May I?”

“Oh. Sure.” 

He turned it over in his hold and, sure enough, there were the words he knew too well, written in flowing, nearly-illegible script. 

‘Miss Haru Yoshioka. You have been selected to interview for a prestigious position with the Bureau of Soulmate Regulation,’ it read. Simple. To the point. Almost insultingly brusque, if it weren’t for the obvious expense and care put into it. 

“I mean,” the woman said, missing his growing resignation, “it was kind of weird. I don’t remember ever applying for anything, definitely nothing that would prompt this, but the name and address was correct, and the man I met didn’t seem that surprised by it.” She paused. “Now I think about it, he didn’t even interview me; just sent me here to meet you.”

“No,” Baron said. “He wouldn’t have.” He sighed and passed the letter back , reaching for the internal phone with his other hand. “Please excuse me for a moment. Toto?” 

He pressed the call button several times before it responded with an angry buzzing. He pressed again, and it cleared into an acceptable phone pitch. “Toto?”

After a long moment, the Head of the Bureau picked up. He sounded like he already knew the incoming conversation. “Baron. How lovely to hear your voice. What can I do for you today?” 

“Toto, I have a woman here claiming she’s my facilitator–”

“Oh, good. Then she found her way to your office. The Sanctuary must like her.”

“No. Not good. Toto, why would you invite her here? We’ve already discussed that I don’t need a facilitator–”

Toto gave a short laugh. “I don’t send the invitations, you know that. The Sanctuary does. The Sanctuary sends the invitations and, evidently, it has decided that yes, you do need a facilitator before you blow up another computer. I’m sorry, Baron. The decision is out of my hands.” There was a pause, and then, “Oh, and Miss Haru, if you’re hearing this, welcome to the Bureau of Soulmate Regulation.” He could hear the smile in Toto’s words. “Good luck.”

They both stared at the phone as Toto hung up, and a dubious pause lingered. 

“So…” Haru said eventually, “does that mean I’m hired?”

“It would appear so.” 

“You, uh, don’t seem too happy about this.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Yoshioka. Trust me, this isn’t any fault of yours, it’s simply that I do not need a facilitator. You hear that?” he snapped, glaring at the office ceiling. “I don’t need her! I’m fine!”

“Sir… are you arguing with the building?”

“The building’s quasi-sentient,” he muttered. “You get used to it.” 

x

“So, um, I guess I should have asked this before now,” Miss Haru said, “but what exactly does a facilitator do?” She frowned at the blue nitrile gloves set before her. “And do I have to wear these?”

Baron paused, mid-way into bringing up the next case. “How much do you know about the Bureau of Soulmate Regulation?”

“Just what it says on the tin. You’re the people who match folk up with their soulmates. People send their details in, fill out a form, and you respond back with their match.” She hesitated and glanced round at the singular office. “To be honest, I thought there’d be more of you. It’s a big business.”

“This building is just one of many offices strewn across the world, but it isn’t a popular vocation.” He didn’t meet her gaze as he flipped through the file. “Only mages can actively cast the spells required to identify soulmates, but using your magic tends to have… complicated effects.”

“Like turning into a cat.”

He looked at her. 

“Wait, I’m sorry, was that rude?” she gabbled. “That probably was rude, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just say it like that, it’s just that you are, well, I couldn’t help but notice that you…”

He waited. 

“…sorry.”

He sighed and closed the case file. Better to get the awkward conversation out of the way now. “Yes, my… feline appearance is due to my use of magic. Yes, the transformation is solely superficial, yes, it will continue to happen as long as I work here, and no, I am not about to go chasing after a laser pointer.” Yet, his mind supplied. 

“Oh.” She glanced back to the gloves she had been given. “So is that what these are for?”

“You’re going to be coming into contact with magic while employed here. Officially, we cannot make you wear them, but they are strongly recommended for non-mages who work in a magical environment. Second-hand magic isn’t as strong as it is for mages, but it will still have… consequences if you are regularly exposed to it.” 

Her eyes flickered over him, and he knew she was considering the possibility of becoming half-cat herself. 

She put the gloves on. 

“And… my job? You didn’t answer that.”

Keeping his deadpan expression on her, he reached across and brushed a hand over the electric kettle. 

The fuse blew, and along with it every light bulb in his office. There was a curse somewhere else in the building, and Baron suspected the effects were slightly more wide-reaching than usual today. He grinned at her in the semi-gloom. “Side effect number two of regular magic usage: Electricity really doesn’t like it.”

The lights flickered back on. Someone had evidently located the fuse box. 

“Huh” Miss Haru said, and to her credit, she only looked vaguely unsettled by the electrical fault. “I guess that explains Mr Toto’s comment about exploding computers.”

“Firstly, I didn’t explode anything. It smoked, at best. And, secondly…” He faltered, not entirely sure where his train of thought had been going.

“Secondly, I guess that’s my job?” she offered. 

“Yes. Facilitators are hired to help mages whose magic has reached the stage where it becomes… inconvenient around electrical appliances.”

“Like exploding computers?”

He sighed. “Like exploding computers.”

x

For all his complaints about not needing a facilitator, Humbert at least remained professional enough to keep his irritation to himself. For that, Haru was grateful. 

Even if she did have to move the kettle into the next room to stop him from making his own tea. 

And shift the internal phone onto her desk. 

And put warning tape around the light switches. 

In any case, she quickly became familiar with where the fuse box and spare light bulbs were kept, more so than she did in her actual home, and life fell into a strange sort of routine. She’d arrive, turn on the lights in their corner of the Sanctuary, make them both tea with the exiled kettle, and then settle down to help whenever Humbert’s job required access to anything electrical. 

Sometimes it was picking up the phone, and other times it was replying to emails or updating Humbert on their contents. But mostly it was dealing with the influx of soulmate requests - transcribing the details onto paper for Humbert and then transferring them back onto the computer when he had the results. She wondered how he had managed before she had been hired. 

Explosively, if the previously computer comment was anything to go by.

“Someone would run down with the list in the morning and then pick it up at the end of the day,” Humbert answered when she finally decided to ask. 

“Sounds inefficient,” Haru said. 

“It worked.”

Slowly, Haru suspected.  

She didn’t say that though. She just put down a fresh cup of tea and ignored how tentatively he sipped at it. 

x

“You don’t like my tea, do you?”

She wasn’t sure what prompted her to be so direct - maybe it was a month of watching her co-worker superficially thank her every time she set a cup down before him and reluctantly drink it out of gratitude. Maybe she’d just had enough. 

He looked startled. “Miss Haru, I assure you–”

“You’re really not that subtle. So, what is it? Too much milk? Not enough sugar? Seeping for the wrong time?”

Humbert hesitated. “You make excellent tea - for store-bought tea bags. The fact of the matter is simply that I’m more accustomed to making my own blend - or,” he added, “I was before…” and he motioned vaguely to himself. 

“Oh.” She supposed that explained the cupboard full of loose tea leaves and other varied ingredients she’d found when moving the kettle. “You know, if you tell me how to–”

“Thank you, but I’m afraid I quite enjoyed the process as much as the drinking.” 

He smiled politely in a way that didn’t meet his eyes. 

“Thank you, all the same.”

x

Baron jolted back as a tray was set firmly on his desk. He leant back, appraising the tea pot, the cups, and the assortment of boxed ingredients laid out before him. “What is this?”

“I would have thought you, of all people, Humbert, would recognise a tea pot when you saw one,” Miss Haru said, a knowing smile on her lips. 

“Yes, but more to the matter: What is it doing here? You know I cannot make tea–”

“What you cannot do,” she said, “is use a kettle. And, correct me if I’m wrong, but the rest of the tea-making process is pretty analogue, right?” She beamed proudly at him. “And, luckily for you, you have someone on hand who can fill a kettle.”

He looked at her anew. 

She grinned back. “Well?” She was almost brimming with excitement. “What do you think?”

Baron pulled the tea pot towards him. It was ceramic and red, a classic combination with a good quality weight to it. Inside was a detachable infuser, ready and waiting for a fresh tea batch. 

“Okay, now is the time to tell me you love it,” Miss Haru said, doubt beginning to creep into her voice. “

“I love it,” he said. 

“Oh, thank god. I was beginning to worry… Look, just let me know when you want to make a cup and I’ll get the kettle sorted.” 

“I really do,” he said, and he was surprised when his voice wavered. He browsed through the ingredients, all freshly bought variations of the old collection he’d had before his magic had made using a kettle impossible. “This is… Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Humbert.” 

“Baron,” he said. 

She faltered. “What?”

“Please, call me Baron, Miss Haru. All my friends do.”

She grinned. “In that case, it’s just Haru to you.” She laughed. “’Miss Haru’ makes me feel like someone’s nanny.” 

He returned the smile. 

“As you wish, Haru.” 

x

She had to admit it: his tea blends were delicious.

x

“A stick.”

“Yep.”

Baron glanced at Haru. “You bought me a stick for Christmas.”

“I put a bow around it and everything” she said. “Look - it’s a little bowtie that matches yours. That’s real care and dedication. And it’s extendable!” 

“Why did you buy me a stick for Christmas, Haru?”

She grinned and retrieved it. It was, as far as sticks went, fairly fancy. It was metal and the pointer was shaped in the form of a cat’s head but, when all was said and done, it was still a stick. Even so, he watched with one raised eyebrow as she pulled it out, extending it from a foot to nearly a metre, and prodded the light switch. 

“Now you don’t have to wait for me to turn the lights on!” Haru cried. 

“That’s… huh.” 

Haru prodded the lights back on. “You don’t like it? Of course you don’t like it, what was I even thinking–”

“Of course I like it,” Baron said. He reclaimed the stick. “It’s very… you.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

He tilted his head. “It’s the highest praise, Haru.”

x

“Did you ever think of testing yourself?” The question slipped from Haru as she watched Baron perform the soulmate spell. It was a complicated affair, made up of several parts, including a spell to specify the individual, a spell to transfer the data to a compatible magic format, a spell to find the soulmate, and another spell to identify the soulmate… to name but the few Haru had been able to spot. She leant over his shoulder, almost but not quite touching, and added, “You know, seeing who your soulmate is?”

“Not particularly,” he answered. “And, even if I were inclined, things are somewhat complicated due to…” He motioned to himself, and Haru bristled. 

“Do you think your soulmate would care what you looked like?” she demanded. 

Baron laughed. “That wasn’t what I was referring to, although I imagine it wouldn’t make things any easier. No, you see, the magic used to determine one’s soulmate doesn’t work with a mage. It has something to do with our own magic contaminating the results.” 

“Oh. So, even if you used your own magic to try…?”

“It still wouldn’t work.”

“Oh.” He laughed again. “Don’t look so sad, Haru. I made my decision, and I’m happy with it.” He smiled. “And, as you reminded me, my appearance doesn’t… simplify matters.”

“I didn’t mean it in that way, I just assumed when you said that, that you meant–” 

“Look at me, Haru. Would you date me?”

“I…” 

Moments passed. 

Her mouth dried, and she glanced away. 

Baron didn’t see her blush. 

x

She had become accustomed to Baron’s unusual appearance. 

It had crept up on her, in the same way he had gone from co-worker to friend; quietly, and with no fuss. 

She was sorting through an old cabinet when she found the scuffed picture frame - stuffed between an expenses file from three years back and a confirmation of the instalment of a new computer. It showed two people; a woman with long blonde, almost white, hair, and a man with curly ginger hair. The two were posed in old-fashioned clothes, grinning into the camera. 

Baron must have sensed her sudden stillness, for he shifted his gaze her way. “Haru, what has… oh.”

She turned the photo towards him. “Is that…?”

“Old,” he answered and he took the picture from her. “I thought I’d lost it - where did you find it?”

“Just… down there. Baron, who are they?”

He looked to her with a feline grin. “Don’t you recognise me?”

“That’s… that’s you?”

“And my sister. She convinced me to attend a regency fair with her, and took great delight in making the costumes. Of course, we both look a little different now…” He noted her expression. “You seem surprised?”

“It’s just…” And she laughed, embarrassed. “I guess I had kind of forgotten that you were ever…”

“Human?”

“That you didn’t always look this way.”

He twisted the photo back towards her. “Well, now you know. What do you think? I was quite the looker, back in my day,” he said, with a kind of detached humour.

“You still are.”

He stared at her. 

She stared back. Shoot, had she really said that?

Then he laughed, throwing his head back and placing the frame on his desk. “Yes, I suppose my appearance still draws quite the eye, that’s true. I guess some things never change.”

x

She was always careful to avoid contact. 

Baron didn’t think she even noticed it anymore, it was so ingrained into her habit that she now instinctively kept that distance. Still, her behaviour had shifted. If he had to describe it, it would be that she had grown comfortable around him. 

And, to be honest, he had with her. 

Maybe that was the reason he felt confident enough to ask why she had never applied to find her soulmate. 

At first, she only laughed. The sound was light, surprised. She raised an eyebrow back at him. “How do you know I didn’t? Maybe I already did and am happily married with two kids and a mortgage.” 

He raised an eyebrow back. “A mortgage? On this payroll?”

“You’re right, I guess that did make my lie obvious.” She continued to type up the most recent batch of results. “Next time I’ll be sure to omit that.”

“You still didn’t answer my question.”

Now she paused. The familiar clicking of keys ceased and she glanced to him out of the corner of her eye. “I… don’t know. It costs to find your soulmate, and I suppose I just didn’t have the money spare. Still don’t,” she added.

Baron hesitated. 

The next words came heavy on his tongue. “You know… I could always do a test for you, free of charge.” He didn’t know why the smile he offered felt thin. “It’d be no trouble.”

She stared at him for a long, long moment. 

“I…”

“Only if you wanted,” he hastily added. “I just thought…”

“I’m fine.” The smile she returned was nervous, although he couldn’t figure out why.

“I just ask because there’s always a risk that, even with only the second-hand magic around you, you might eventually become immune to the soulmate magic…” He was rambling. Why was he rambling? “And if that were the case, it feels only right to give you the chance to discover your soulmate while the magic still works for you–”

She leant in suddenly, drawing intimately close. “Baron, I’m fine. I’m happy not knowing who my soulmate is.”

“But what if that changes?”

She only looked at him. “I don’t need magic to tell me who to fall in love with.”

It was only as she backed away did he realise her hands had, if only briefly, covered his. 

x

“Is that a new hat? Nice, very pointy. Classic.”

Haru finished tying the bonnet’s ribbon beneath her chin and examined her reflection in the darkened window. “Thanks. Does it suit me?” 

“It looks lovely, but I’m fairly certain it’s not approved Bureau dress protocol.”

“Toto would have to catch me in it first.” 

“You also have it on backwards. Here, let me…” He was halfway to untying the ribbon when he remembered himself. His hands froze. “It… should be the other way around.” 

There was a flicker in her gaze, and then she set the hat in its correct position. “Like that?”

“You need to tilt it further back, or it won’t stay in place…” His fingers itched with the desire to straighten the bonnet, but now his mind was becoming preoccupied with other thoughts, notably how close they suddenly were. 

Haru huffed, a strange, amused sound, and took his wrists in her blue gloved hands. She brought his hands to the brim of her hat. “Just sort it out, Baron, before your delicate fashion senses get any more offended.”

“The magic–”

“You haven’t done any magic today, not yet,” she informed him. “Look, I did my reading; second-hand magic can only be picked up from either active sources, or inactive sources within an hour of being exposed.” She grinned. “You’re not contagious, Baron, so just tie the darn ribbon.” 

Still, he hesitated. 

Haru tilted her head up to give him a better angle, and her eyes were bright and close and beautiful–

“Why exactly do you have this?” he asked. He hoped she couldn’t tell how hard he had to work to get his brain back on gear. “Short of flaunting the dress code.”

“I’m seeing if it fits. Your sister lent it to me and I need to let her know by the end of the day whether it’ll do.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you have it.”

“I’m borrowing it because we’re going to a regency fair.”

“We as in, you and my sister, or…?”

“We as in you and me.”

He’d finished tying the bonnet in place and, he had to admit, it did suit her. He didn’t back away. “What?”

“There’s a fair in town this weekend and I know you don’t have anything planned - don’t lie, I checked with your sister - so I may have organised for us to go.”

“Why?”

“Because you used to go all the time and I thought you’d enjoy it.”

He took a step back. “Haru, have you considered that maybe there was a reason I stopped going?”

“Yes, and it’s balderdash.” She made a face at him. “Your sister still goes regularly, and she’s as much a cat as you! Why should you miss out on fun just because of a few whiskers and a tail? And don’t tell me about the whole second-hand magic thing, because we both know that as long as you don’t use magic, you’re not a danger to anyone.” 

He hesitated. “Haru…”

“Louise tailored your old costume and everything.” She laughed. “She, uh, may have made me a dress too - I didn’t ask her to!” she was quick to add. “She’s just so…”

“Impulsive,” Baron finished. 

“I was going to go with ‘enthusiastic’ actually, but sure. I only asked after her advice, and the next thing I knew she had already found your old costume and was planning one for me, and…” She chuckled and shook her head. “She thinks it would be good for you to get out, Baron.”

“My sister thinks a great many things, and she’s as often wrong as she is right.”

“Like the rest of us.” She leant towards him. “Come on, Baron; it’ll be fun! You do know what fun is, don’t you? Or did you skip that day at school?”

Despite everything, he felt the edge of a smile on his lips. “Miss Haru, you are far too convincing for your own good.”

“Is that a yes?”

x

He had to admit it: the regency fair was fun. 

More fun than he’d had in a long time. 

x

“You’re in love.”

Haru nearly dropped the files she was carrying. “I what?”

Baron continued to mark through the paperwork, not even deigning to look up. “You’re wearing the same perfume as you did when you were first dating Machida and when you developed a crush on that waitress. Also, you’re wearing a necklace; a habit I have rarely seen outside of situations you want to make a good impression. Ergo, there is a new love interest on the scene.” 

Haru’s hand flew to the charm around her neck. “How could you tell? You didn’t even look.” 

He offered a knowing smile. “Feline senses.”

“Oh. Is it… is the perfume okay? It’s not too strong, is it? I can… sit downwind of you, if you want, not that there even is a downwind in an office, but–”

He smiled, and Haru’s heart skipped a beat. “It’s no bother, Haru. So, who’s the lucky person? Do I know them?”

She made a show of readjusting the files in her arms, eyes downcast. “Um… no. No, I don’t… You don’t.” She felt her cheeks heat up as Baron chuckled. “It’s…” 

“What’s this? The indomitable Haru Yoshioka, lost for words? I never thought I’d see the day.” He raised an eyebrow. “If it’s my sister, I only ask that you disbelieve 80% of the childhood stories she shares. She exaggerates.” 

“It’s… uh, it’s not your sister.” Haru hesitated. “Although she is really pretty.”

“Oh. I just thought, since you’ve been spending time with her… nevermind. So, who are they? I only ask because Louise will demand every detail when she hears of this.”

“He’s… well, he’s a he,” Haru mumbled, “and he works in an… office. Files and paperwork and… stuff.”

Baron paused in writing up the soulmate report. “Somehow, that surprises me.”

“Oh?”

“I presumed it would be someone more… exciting than that.”

“Office people can be exciting.” 

He faltered, and Haru suddenly wondered if she had dropped one too many hints, but then he said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean that you’re dull, I just meant…” He chuckled and looked awkwardly away. “There’s no way I can recover this, is there?”

“Not really.”

“How about if I try distracting you by asking you about this mystery man? What’s his name?”

She fumbled. “Uh… it’s.. um, Aaron.”

“How old is he?”

“Uh… about your age.”

“What does he look like?”

“About… your height. Ginger. Green eyes.” She blushed. “Is this a interrogation? Do you want to rig me up to a lie detector or something?”

“Actually, I’m just hoping it distracts you from my embarrassing comment earlier,” Baron admitted. “Is it working?”

“It’s definitely keeping my mind occupied.”

He beamed. “Grand. So what is he like, this Aaron?”

Again, she faltered, her gaze carefully shifting to the files she held. “He’s… uh, nice. Kind. Even when something irritates him, he does his best to be patient. He’s funny. And smart. And he trusts me, even when he’s nervous, and I love our conversations, and…” she hesitated, “he doesn’t know how I feel about him.”

Baron’s gaze turned sympathetic. “Have you tried telling him?”

“It’s… difficult. I think he just sees us as friends, and I don’t want to ruin that.”

“Haru, if the friendship is true, then you won’t ruin it even if he doesn’t return the feelings.”

“And he’s a little oblivious,” Haru added.

“Just be forthright. Just go up to him and say, ‘Aaron, I love you.’”

“I love you.”

“Yes! Like that!” Baron laughed. “If he doesn’t get the hint then, I’m sorry, Haru, but he’s too oblivious for you.”

Haru stared for a long moment. “Okay. Thanks, Baron. Good pep-talk.”

x

After Haru left, Baron hesitated. His mind ran over the conversation, picking up coincidences and hints and almost piecing them together into one complete picture.

Then he laughed and shook his head. 

“Don’t be silly, Baron,” he muttered to himself.

x

Baron’s sister, Louise, had taken the shapeshifting side effects of being a mage in her stride; something that Baron still couldn’t quite get used to. She sat back at the cafe, wide-brimmed hat settled between her feline ears, and a tailored pair of sunglasses perched precariously on the bridge of her nose. 

“You look like an undercover spy, Louise,” Baron said as he swung into the seat opposite.

Louise snapped the book she was reading down. “And you, darling brother, look like a librarian. A dull one at that. Honestly, you should wear the morning suit I bought you for last Christmas. Now that was a look.”

“It’s ridiculous and outdated, Louise.”

“It’s smart! And eyecatching!”

He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t need to be more eyecatching.”

“So you might as well dress as if you’re having fun with it,” Louise reprimanded. “Not as if you’re apologising for existing.”

“I don’t–”

“How is Haru doing?”

He always forgot how disorientating Louise could be until he was sitting in front of her. “She’s… fine? Why do you ask.”

“No… developments since we last chatted?”

Baron hesitated. “What kind of… developments are we talking about?”

Louise gave him a stare and then snapped her book back to her face. “Nothing. Forget I asked.”

“What developments, Louise?”

“Nothing.”

“Louise…”

She groaned and dropped the book onto the table. “Fine. Has Haru had any… conversations with you about dating?”

“She asked my advice on a guy a few weeks back… Is that what this is about?”

“What guy?”

“Someone called Aaron? I didn’t ask for a last name - that seemed somewhat inappropriate–”

“Aaron?”

“Yes.”

“Aaron?” Louise repeated. Her sunglasses began to wobble as she repressed the laughter. “Oh my god, she can’t lie for buttons. What else did she tell you about this ‘Aaron’?”

His sister’s hilarity gave Baron pause. “Just a few small details - he’s kind, works in an office, about my height and age, ginger…” He trailed off as Louise’s grin only grew more knowing. “Louise… what is it?”

“You, Humbert, are the most stupidest person I’ve ever had the pleasure to know.” She laughed and raised her hands to the sides of his face, gloved hands sinking into his fur. “Clap two slices of bread between your ears and call yourself an idiot sandwich, Humbert; the person she was talking about was you.”

“You can’t be sure–”

“I can, because I’m not an idiot sandwich.” Louise grinned. “And because she may have told me as such a while back. Now, are you going to go talk to her about it or do I have to do that for you too?”

“Release my face first.”

x

“Toto, I think I might be in love with Haru.”

The Head of the Bureau of Soulmate Regulation laughed and swivelled his chair to face Baron. “Oh thank god, you’ve finally decided to join the party.”

“What?”

Toto leant back from his desk with a grin. “We’ve all known about how you two feel about each other for months. It’s about time one of you did something about it.”

“In Haru’s defence,” Baron said, his face heating up, “she has told me at least once.”

“What happened?”

He winced. “I… may not have noticed?”

Toto cawed a laugh. “Naturally. So, now you have caught up with the programme, what are you going to do about it?” Toto tilted his head. “You do intend to do something, don’t you?”

“I - yes, of course, but–”

“But what?”

Baron hesitated. He still wasn’t entirely sure that this wasn’t some elaborate trick from his sister to get him to confess what he’d been trying to ignore all this time. It wasn’t that he thought his sister cruel, but more that the idea that Haru - funny, intelligent, fearless Haru - would have fallen for him was laughable.

Some of those thoughts must have made it onto Baron’s face, for Toto scowled and rose to his feet. “Oh, no; you’re not wimping out of this now.” He grabbed Baron’s collar and hauled him out of his office and down to Baron’s. 

“Toto, is this really necessa–”

“Yes.”

Even the Sanctuary was working against him, it seemed, for the usual trek between the two offices took no time at all, and Baron had little chance to think up any convincing argument before he was suddenly standing before Haru in their little corner of the Sanctuary. 

“Haru, Baron has something to tell you,” Toto said, and shut the door. 

And, suddenly it was just the two of them. 

The two of them and a whole unspoken secret. 

Haru glanced curiously to the slammed door and then to Baron with a raised eyebrow.  “Okay, that’s strange… even for Toto.” She laughed and nodded over to Baron’s desk. “By the way, the soulmate identity spell you left running is almost done so, uh, maybe you should keep an eye on that while you tell me whatever Toto has dragged you back to say.”

Numbly, Baron moved over to his desk. 

“Haru… we’ve known each other for a while now, haven’t we?”

“A year and a bit, yeah.” 

“And we’re friends, aren’t we?”

She gave him an odd look. “I hope so. Otherwise I’m going to have to return your Christmas present - and, no, it’s not another stick.”

“Haru, please, I’m trying to be serious here.” 

Another odd look, and she turned in her seat to face him. “Okay. I’m listening.” 

“Haru, when you first arrived, I was very certain that I did not need you.”

“Shouted it at the Sanctuary, if I remember correctly.”

“Haru.”

“Sorry. Listening.” 

“When you first arrived, I was very accustomed to working by myself, I could not imagine working alongside a facilitator. Especially not one who had so little background in magic, who barely understood the risks of second-hand magic, I couldn’t imagine why the Sanctuary had chosen you–” 

Haru was beginning to make a face, and Baron quickly shuffled the conversation along.

“–but now I see its reasoning all too clearly. Haru, you are clever and creative and kind, and you are never afraid to speak your mind and give others the push they need. When you first arrived, I couldn’t imagine working alongside, but now I can’t imagine working without you. Haru, you are my very good friend, and it can stay that way if you want, but… we could also be something more…”  

There was a long silence. 

“If I seemed unafraid,” Haru eventually said, “it was only because I knew you trusted me.” She shook he head. “And, anyway, you’re wrong. If I were truly unafraid, then I would have told you how I felt a long time ago.” 

“You did.”

She laughed, the sound half-born out of embarrassment. “I would have told you properly. Should have. Not hidden it behind some silly hypothetical crush.”

“And I should have listened.” 

“It’s not your fault. I already knew I was dealing with an obtuse idiot. I should have made it so obvious even you couldn’t ignore it.”

There was a flash of light behind Baron. The soulmate identity spell had finished. He ignored it. 

It could wait. 

“Haru…”

“Do you love me?”

So blunt, so clear-cut. She was leaning towards him now, those searching, bright eyes he had come to know so well in the last year boring into him. He couldn’t lie. 

“Yes.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything sooner, you great goose?” she demanded, but she was laughing now. She reached out, hand cupping his cheek, and began to shorten the distance between them. 

“Haru - second-hand magic–” he began.

“Small doses don’t harm anyone,” she said. “Mr Baron Humbert von Gikkingen, I am about to kiss you, if that’s alright with you.” 

“I… yes. Yes, that’s…” 

She grinned at his flustered response. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue, Bar--” 

She was so close, he could see her eyes flicker away and grow cold all in a moment. She blinked several times and suddenly dropped her hold. As if stung. “Oh.”

“What...?” Baron glanced behind him to see the cause of her distress, and saw the spell identifying the soulmate for request number 12 of the day shimmering above his desk. 

And the face of Haru Yoshioka stared back. 

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Accidental Poisoning (AU)

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader, minor characters

Word Count: 1,489

Warnings: allergic reaction to peanuts, fluff at the end

Summary: There is something that Dean doesn’t know about you, and he figures it out too late.

Squared Filled: Coffee shop au // allergic reaction // poisoning // mistaken for a couple // mutual pining // distortion

Fandom: Supernatural

Beta: she wants to remain anonymous

Author’s Note: This is for @spndeanbingo and @badthingshappenbingo and @hc-bingo and @spnfluffbingo2019 and @spngenrebingo and @spndarkbingo respectively and this is unbeta’d and any and all mistakes are all on me.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

The coffee shop you worked at gave you lots of opportunities to be with your crush and co-worker, Dean Winchester. He started working there around the same time as you. Your best friend got you to apply when she informed you that they were looking for people who wanted full-time work. When you applied, you thought this was going to be the easiest job in the world: making coffee, heating up food, and cleaning tables.

No one ever told you about Dean and how much he would distract you from your work. No one knew of your crush except for your best friend, Melanie. She would often tease you about how his hair looked or about a certain look he would give you while the two of you were making coffee. It was getting kind of old, but you ignored her most of the time.

Before he started working there, you would get every order right, you wouldn’t zone out, and you always greeted a customer by their name if you could. After he started working there, however, you forgot everything there is to know about working in a coffee shop. If he were to even give you a side glance, you were most definitely spilling whatever it was that was in your hands. If you were dealing with a customer, then you would stutter and blush until the point where the customer got concerned for your health.

Now, to be fair, he was feeling the exact same way as you were. The only difference is that he knew how to hide his feelings better than you can. When he applied, he couldn’t even get you out of his head. He knew he had to get the job if it meant seeing you every single day. The way you smiled, how your eyes would shine if and when you got an order right, and your infectious laugh whenever he did something to earn it.

He didn’t want to tell you how he feels in case you didn't feel the same way. He didn't want the environment to be awkward for everyone until one of you is forced to quit. Instead, he just kept to being your co-worker and friend that you sometimes saw outside of work. He never even had the balls to ask you on a friend date with other people. That’s how scared he was of ruining everything.

The one thing he enjoyed about working with you is how many different kinds of drinks the two of you could make that weren't on the menu. It’s always fun to make new drinks that no one could ever think of so that maybe one day it would be put on the menu. There were so many ingredients and combinations you could try, it would take months before you tried them all.

Just before your break, you were at the cash register taking someone’s orders when Dean walked up next to you with a ready coffee for someone. He announced the person’s name and the kind of drink they ordered with a smile. When they came up and got it, he stumbled a bit which caused him to almost drop the coffee. Luckily, Dean had cat-like reflexes and caught it, handing it to the woman who could only laugh.

“Nice catch,” she complimented before leaving the counter.

“See that, Y/N? I have razor-sharp reflexes,” he grinned.

“Oh yeah, a real MacGyver,” you teased. He laughed as he passed you, but there were so many people behind the counter that he placed his hands on your shoulders as he passed.

“You love it,” he whispered in your ear before going to make another coffee. Blushing, you handed the woman in front of you her change.

“Here you go, I’m sorry about that,” you chuckled.

“Is he your boyfriend?” she asked.

“What? No, he’s not,” you blushed even more.

“He’s cute. You should ask him out. You two would make a cute couple,” she gushed before walking away. Looking back, you saw Dean concentrating as he made the coffee. Whenever he focused really hard, his tongue would stick out of the corner of his mouth just slightly in an adorable way.

“Hello? Miss?” the man in front of you asked when it was his turn. Turning to face the man, you cleared your throat before apologizing.

“I am so sorry. What can I get for you?” you asked, trying to keep your thoughts away from your co-worker. It was going to be hard if he kept talking to you that way, but you would manage.

“Hey, Y/N,” Dean whispered, approaching you on your break. The break room in the back was pretty big, so luckily, there was enough room back there to give you two some sense of privacy with other people in the room.

“What’s up?”

“Taste this. I made something revolutionary. I think you’re going to like it,” he handed you a cup of coffee.

“What is it?”

“Just taste it and let me know what you think,” he giggled like a schoolgirl. Maybe you should have sniffed it first so that you would know there were peanuts before taking a sip. No one knew this about you except for Melanie, but you were deadly allergic to peanuts. If you even got a whiff of them, you would go into shock. Your whole body would start to shut down as hives would break out on your skin. The only thing that could help you was your EpiPen that you kept in your bag at all times in case you got yourself in a situation that you couldn’t get out of. The break room was also the locker room where your things were stored, so your EpiPen wasn’t too far if you needed it.

Taking a sip of the drink, your eyes widened at the taste of peanuts. Doing a spit take, you began coughing intensely as your body began to convulse. Your body slid to the floor, and you couldn’t do anything as it started to shut down. Your lungs started to collapse on each other, which made it very difficult to breathe.

“Holy shit! Y/N!” Dean yelled, kneeling down to try and help you. You couldn’t find the energy to speak, but you looked at your locker with the EpiPen. No one knew it was there except for Melanie.

“Help! Someone help!” Dean shouted. All he could think about was how he poisoned you. Your co-workers rushed into the room, and your best friend pushed past everyone to see what was wrong. As soon as she saw your convulsing figure, she ran to your locker and rummaged through your bag. She grabbed the medicine stick, rushed over to you, and knelt down.

“Move!” she yelled at Dean. She slammed the end of the EpiPen into your thigh, and you were finally able to take a breath for the first time in minutes. The pain started dispersing, and you looked at Dean, who was just about in tears.

“I’m okay, Dean,” you winced as Melanie helped you up.

“Okay? I fucking poisoned you! Holy shit! I am so sorry! I am going to jail for this, aren’t I?” he panicked.

“Someone call 911,” Melanie announced.

“Mel, I’m fine,” you sighed shakily.

“No, Y/N, you need the medics to check you out,” she sighed as she got up to talk to the manager. Dean helped you to your feet before making you sit down at the table.

“I need you to get that drink out of here,” you pointed to it. Dean scrambled to remove it, and when he did, he returned to your side.

“I’m sorry I poisoned you. I swear I didn’t do anything to it. I may have put in too much coffee beans, but that’s about it!”

“Dean, you didn't poison me. I’m deathly allergic to peanuts. It’s not your fault you didn’t know. I should have told you before. I should have sniffed the drink. I mean, the same thing would have happened, but not as severe. I’m sorry for scaring you,” you sighed.

“Are you okay? Do you need some water?”

“Yeah, water is fine,” you nodded. He got up and got you a glass of water, moving your sweaty hair away from your forehead. He started to check your skin to see if you had a temperature, but you moved away from him. “Dean, I’m fine.”

“I poison the love of my life. Y/N, none of this is fine,” he admitted without realizing it.

“Wait what? Love of your life?” you asked just as medics pushed their way into the room. Dean’s eyes widened as the medics forced him to move away from you so they could check you out. Whatever they were doing to you, whatever kinds of questions they were asking, you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off Dean.

And he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off you.

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[helihi]

The Good, The Bad, and the Dirty: RWBY Vol 7 Ep 4

Thank you for renewing your Punch Jacques Club Membership, I cannot confirm or deny that you’ll accomplish your goal this season, but we’re family.

Overall rating of the chapter: 7.5/10 

*Spoilers Ahead*

The Good

To start off this chapter, we learn more about the true dynamics of the Ace Ops and, more importantly, about Atlas Academy. At Beacon, teams are chosen by interactions and collaborative efforts during a recorded test. Ozpin chose teams based on trust, leadership skills, and bonds. In Atlas, teams are chosen based on effectiveness. The students are not viewed as people or individuals, they are viewed as numbers.

In the previous episodes, there were a couple of things that didn’t quite sit well with me: Harriet’s original comment to Ruby regarding her Semblance felt more mean than playful, and the fact that Marrow was everyone’s punching bag. At first, you might think that this is just playful banter between friends, like Yang and Ruby referring to Jaune as Vomit Boy from time to time, however, that’s not true. Since Harriet declares that they are not friends, you may realize that they are not “picking on Marrow”, they are actively bullying him. There’s no complements thrown his way, there are no mutual laughter or apologies, it’s just drag after drag after drag.

I have the slight feeling that Marrow might consider them his friends, and that’s why he’s letting the comments slide. We should also consider that he is the only Faunus in the team, and although I believe their comments don’t come from a source of casual racism, but rather at pointing out the fact that he’s the most childish of them all, we should pin that for now.

I get Harriet, there’s a difference between co-workers and friends. Though some times you may befriend your co-workers, playful banter and after office outings don’t translate to friendship. I say this as someone who has worked for a big company. There were coworkers I genuinely befriended, and other who I was friendly after office hours, but never hung out with outside work parties or outings.

That being said, I find it hard that you wouldn’t bond with those whose life you’ve saved before, the same who’ve saved yours. Interestingly, when Yang inquires about this and gets dismissed by Harriet, you can see the way Blake reacts in the background. Have we bonded over trauma? Is that all that this is?

Let me be clear: people can bond over trauma, but at the same time, going through a lot of things with a person can show you sides of them you never noticed before, you see them in a different light. That being said, Team RWBY’s enemies haven’t been random people: Cinder killed Pyrrha, their friend; Emerald was someone they trusted; Mercury framed Yang in front of Remnant; Adam was Blake’s abusive ex and his goal to destroy Blake and Yang was personal. During the arcs these characters have gone through, they have grown as people as they faced death, obviously they are going to bond.

This may have been pure coincidence, but it’s interesting that an anti-bee section of the FNDM posed the idea that Yang and Blake’s relationship is based on mutual trauma. This claim is ridiculous because both of them cared about each other before the Fall of Beacon. The traumatic event made their relationship take a turn, and realize some things that they didn’t notice before or made things clearer for them. (On a side note, Asami realized she had feelings for Korra when she thought the avatar was going to die at the end of book 3). Sometimes certain situations change your perspective about things and people.

I want to note that Nora’s comedic relief landed perfectly, and Jaune’s sass was on point. Once again James is presented as someone trouble seeking the best outcome through the wrong means. That being said, Tyrian and Watts plan seem to be to overthrow him and generate chaos through political manipulation, and as someone who comes from a country with high levels of corruptions and suspicious murders, this is true real. Also, don’t think James is a good poor guy trying to be his best. He’s actively choosing one portion of the kingdom over the other and dooming certain populations.

Next stop is Jacques “Scumbag” Schnee making his first appearance in the volume. TBH it was about time. Given how the opening frames him, he had to show up soon. Just like I expected the moment he started bickering with Ironwood, he turned around and will now help Watts. At first, Jacques might have had power over Ironwood, but now he doesn’t, at least until he get his seat at “The Council”, which I’m expecting him to win.

As someone with an abusive parent, Jacques’s mannerisms make sense. The shift from his violent approach to a more manipulative one are common abusive tactics of an abusive person when in public or when their victim stands up to them. My parent used to be more physically abusive when I was a child, but when I grew taller and stronger, they switched to a psychological one since I could defend myself. In this case, Jacques was super close to striking Weiss again, but stopped the moment one of her true dads stepped in (Ironwood).

Jacques using Willow to guilt trip Weiss was dirty and awful, and once again adds on to my theory that she might be the Winter maiden. Thankfully, like Ruby promised, Team RBY is right beside her.

Blake is ready to kill him, and Yang is processing how awful the man is. Ruby is utterly confused at his attitude. Following this, we find that Winter was siting for him to leave before showing up. She looks around to confirm that he’s no longer there, and Weiss points out “Winter, it’s nice for you to finally show up”. Just like I've talked about before, while Weiss got out of the abusive environment and found a real family (Team RWBY), Winter escaped Jacques by joining the military. James Ironwood is only missing one Schnee child to adopt, and we’ll get to that soon enough.

All our kids are now huntsmen! Congrats! Just like they say, the licenses feel hollow after all they’ve been through, and TBH I agree. It also shows progress for the characters, specially Yang who had the most superficial goal out of the 4 Team RWBY members. Regardless of that, it’s nice to see the goof around, take pics, and eat cake. Something I thought it was adorable is how Winter interacts with Penny: she’s so caring and nice. I love them.

We got a really good moment between Ruby and Qrow, and some background on Summer. The DC comics have helped us understand Summer a little bit ore, but this confirms that she was a brat (hell ye). Apparently, her last mission was a “Summer mission”. I really need those Team STRQ flashbacks. I bet Raven know more than we think.

I also think it’s important that Qrow pointed out how Ruby is not Oz since she doesn’t keep the secret to herself. I think certain conditions should be met to be open about Salems existence, especially considering current circumstances.

Jaune offering to protect little children is the most Jaune thing ever, never change boy.

Lastly, Watts finds an ally: the douchbag who married into the Schnee name. That small interaction with Whitley and Jacques might be a small sign of foreshadowing him having a reception arc. His father doesn’t trust him to invite his heir into the meeting, and he treats his son rudely. Whitley looks genuinely dejected.

Watts faked his death, that might be an indication why Ironwood doesn’t have a clear suspect yet. Now, he’s part of the Asshole Mustache club.

Anyways, next episode it looks like we’re going to meet Robyn. The sheep faunus and the tattooed guy next to her might have been part of her team.

The Bad

Those quick animations for cheap comedic effect have started getting kinda annoying. I wish they didn’t overuse them ass much.

The Dirty

Where’s Klein.

--

Final Rating: 7.5/10. Good, but not above expectations.

A.N.: Alost 18 mins, keeping up with the consistent episode length, congrats!

[mental-health-advice]

Submission from thetho

A coworker said he fancies me. That if he was 20 years younger he’d do everything to win me. That I’m a natural beauty. Sometimes he poked me. He took a picture of me although I said I don’t want him to. We have an app where we see which team we’ll be working in every day, and he called the person responsible for the planning to get us planned together. This morning I also called that person to ask not to be planned with said coworker anymore. The coworker then said I am betraying him and tomorrow will be a useless day since he’s not planned with me, and that he’ll miss me etc. He’s 50 years old or so, and I’m 25… I’m so scared that he’ll try to be planned with me again. Or that he’ll ask why we are not planned anymore. Or that he’ll send weird messages to me outside of work. I confided in another coworker whom I trust a lot. But we do on-call duty every so often, and what will I do when I’m on call with him? I’m so scared to go to work. My coworkers are all men and I’m the only woman there. But that person is the only one behaving like that and I don’t want him to destroy my work life. I like working there. But it also makes me feel filthy and like I have to do everything to become ugly. I want to hurt myself and lose so much weight that I’m unattractive. Alcohol doesn’t make me forget it…

Please post as anon and tag thetho. Thanks :)

Hey there,

I am so sorry that you are going through all of this. I can really relate to wanting to hurt yourself and lose lots of weight to become unattractive though so you are definitely not alone with thinking this way. To be honest though (and it took me a long time to realise this) but doing these things will only hurt yourself and not the other person. This co-worker may always fancy you but it’s not fair on yourself to punish you for the way that another may feel towards you. Does that make sense?

It sounds like from what you have written too that you have done everything in your power to try to distance yourself from this co-worker. It can be so hard to work in a job where you are the only female, and I can understand that you love working where you do. In the end though work is meant to be a safe haven where you can do what is expected of you in your work duties and do this work whilst feeling comfortable and not feeling filthy and like you need to become ‘ugly’ to just be left alone and be accepted and treated like you deserve to be (which sounds like you aren’t right now).

So I guess that in the end you have to know when enough is enough. You deserve so much better and I wish so much that you could see this too! You are an amazing and beautiful person just as you are and instead of trying to take this beauty away from yourself, you need to find a way to make peace with this situation and decide if you want to keep working where you are under the current situation or if you would be happier and more comfortable working in a better environment where you can just be yourself! Unfortunately though, no one can make this decision for you but yourself!

I really hope that this has helped a bit and please know that we are here for you if you need to talk some more. You are not alone!

I’m thinking of you!

Take care,

Lauren