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#and insecurity over being bested by a twelve year old
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I bet you while Clover can do all the standard cowpoke tricks, (lassoing, fanning the hammer, horse riding, cheating at cards) the one skill they're most proud of is doing the full ocelot revolver spin.
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moonchild1 · 7 months
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jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅸ)
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hi everyone wow it's really been a while and i'm on list 9 already damnnn that's alot and list 10 is like half way complete already... soooo you might notice a change in the set up this time around i liked how it looked on my ao3 list so i added it here as well, i absolutely love this list like i've gone over this list a million times it's filled with alot of fics i was absolutely obsessed with, you know how attached i get to the characters and this list holds quite a few of them too so i hope you enjoy reading them as much as i did and you fall for them too... remember to give lots of love to the authors of these fics they are absolute geniuses and deserve all the respect and love in this world for creating these beautiful fics and sharing it with us so be sure to give them a follow, like and reblog or even leave a little comment i'm 100% percent sure it would mean alot to them 🥺🖤 also as these fics contain smut no under minors allowed/interact... if you would like to share some of your favourites or just wanna ramble about fics you love send me an ask i love hearing from you guys and happy reading everyone till next time ✨🖤
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a- angst s- smut f-fluff
series
dreamcatchers by @ggukcangetit f a
↬  DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.  
block party by @minlucent f s a
↬ moving into your new apartment brings back memories of your biggest mistake. neighbours au e2l
a little bit of your heart by @yoongiofmine f s a ft. myg
↬ you had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with min yoongi. you knew you and yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything yoongi couldn’t. Will jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten yoongi enough to do something about it? 
lost stars by @/yoongiofmine f s a
↬ Jungkook was lost. He didn’t know who he was anymore, so he decided to leave and find himself. But he wasn’t expecting to find you along the way, an island girl who has no idea who he is. Jungkook has a secret. But so do you. idol au s2l
secrets we keep by @/yoongiofmine f s a
↬ Being a camgirl was never your main goal in life, but when the pandemic hit and you lost your job, you were desperate. Now, two years later, the world is back to normal and  you are one of the top creators of OnlyChingu; the South Korean version of OnlyFans. A website where idols hide behind anonymous profiles in search of that connection they lost during lockdown. Jungkook was never into this type of stuff. Until he ran into you. He knows you’re his perfect girl, his ideal type. Will he be able to put his own insecurities aside when chasing you? Or will you let the secrets you keep ruin you? idol au
i hate you, i love you by @jungblue s a
↬ You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends… and you’re absolutely in love with him; he’s in love too—just not with you. 
fatal attraction by @jungcock s a ft. kth
↬ your dangerous ex-boyfriend comes back to haunt you in more ways than one. exes au serial killer thriller
pub golf by @taleasnewastime f s
↬ One night. One stupidly hot man, who just keeps appearing in every pub you go to. Six friends. Nine pubs. Nine drinks. Ten million stupid rules. Let the chaos begin. s2l
animal by @cutaepatootie f s a
↬ boxer jungkook au ANGST
things you don't know by @btsgotjams27 a
↬ It’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. After moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.
entangled by @caelesjjk f s a ft. kth
↬ Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man. He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend. You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well? Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world. What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.
when the end comes by @oddinary4bts f s a
↬ Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?
new girl by @jjkeverlast f s a
↬ after finding out your boyfriend of 6 years cheated on you, you find yourself moving in with three guys in a loft. what could possibly go wrong?
horizon by @/sokooks f s a
↬ The way you approached life had started to break down Jungkook's emotional barriers. Jungkook couldn't deny that he was drawn to you in a way that was entirely new and unfamiliar. You had become more than just an assignment; you had become someone he genuinely cared about. It was the way you made him feel. With you, he felt more human than he had in a long time. Despite his best efforts to remain detached, his heart had other plans. angel au
searching for nirvana by @/sokooks f s a
↬ he shouldn't be here. he shouldn't be touching you the way he was- but he was here before him. he was your friend, not him. he knew your body, not him. he wanted to be the only one to touch you the way you liked. he he wanted you to remember that. despite the fact that he already had someone waiting for him. best friends au cheating au.
twelve hours by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a
↬ you have twelve hours to make jeon jungkook fall in love with you. he's about to get married. you're the entertainment at his bachelor party - a burlesque dancer. long ago, he used to be the class representative and you used to be the class delinquent. nothing has changed and, yet, everything has.
when it all... by @7deadlysinsfics f a
↬ what’s there to do when your husband says he thinks he doesn’t love you anymore? you pick up the broken pieces the best you can and try to move on
better than me ? by @/7deadlysinsfics f s a
↬ jungkook is clear on what you both are to each other. still, he doesn’t want you to think anyone else is better than him
our first and our last by @thedefinitionofbts f a ft ot7
↬ The first time you met Jeon Jungkook was on your tenth birthday. On that day, he was nothing more than the strange man who jumped into a dark portal that suddenly opened in the middle of the park. The ten year old you just stood in the grass, strands of hair ruffling from the calm breeze that swooped by; head slightly tilted, bright, innocent eyes wide open and staring at him with wonder and disbelief. There was a certain amount of confusion, but your young mind was too naïve to question his actions or what they entailed. soulmate au
dancer in the dark by @gwoongi f s a
↬ Money can’t buy you happiness. Jeongguk, for the longest time, thinks he’s happy. Truthfully, Jeongguk doesn’t know what happiness is until you find him. rockstar au
together by @httpjeon f s a ft.pjm
↬domestic!au, couple!au, stoner!au, gamer!au
hot bot by @/httpjeon f s
↬ purchasing a Hot Bot wasn’t exactly something you ever really planned on. when you do, however, it sends your life down a path of convoluted government schemes and dark secrets.
stardust by @iamtaekooked f
↬ You didn’t believe in soulmates until you lay your eyes on Jeon Jeongguk, the younger brother of your best friend’s husband. That is when you see the red string beginning encircled around your pinky and ending in his
serendipity by @rohobi f s a
↬ After you reveal your inexperienced sexual status to your best friend, Jungkook grapples with the news, startled by the idea that the girl he always thought could get anyone, is a virgin. After finding his porn at 3AM, you decide that maybe it’s about time to stain the white sheets of your world with the colors of a forbidden fruit Jungkook seems to have in the palm of his hands.
chasing shadows by @colormepurplex2 s a
↬ Your job gets you into trouble sometimes. Who would have thought crime journalism would put so many targets on your back? But, it’s happening again, someone’s threatening you. Only, this time, it’s not just you that’s in the crosshairs. Your best friend, Enola, is out on assignment and can’t help like she usually does. So, what does she do instead? She sends her brother, Jungkook, armed with a magic bag, a charming smile, and deductive reasoning skills that prove his worth as one of the best PI’s around.
I gasp once, and in that breath, I accept you in by @inkofyoonkoo f s a
↬ In which Jungkook arrives to your small town to spend the holidays, and you slowly let go of all the ghosts of your past. s2l fwb au
sweet nothing by @adonis-koo f s a
↬ Being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself. His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.
three's a crowd by @/adonis-koo s a ft. jimin
↬ When your mom’s fairytale life begins to bleed over into your world you’re suddenly caught between two men and one big secret, what was supposed to be a relaxing trip soon begins to spiral out of control. All you wanted was a free vacation… ceo au
sleepwalking by @taexual f s a
↬ due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.
empty space by @ahundredtimesover f s a
↬ It started as friendship, turned to a casual fuck, then ended in heartbreak. Turns out, he wasn’t who he said he was, and years later he enters your life again, forcing you to face all the emotions you’d been trying to bury. 
OR Officer Jeon looks really hot in his uniform and you wish you didn’t hate him as much as you do.
as the world burns around us by @today-we-will-survive a
↬ You haven’t seen the sun in two years. The Virus wiped out a good three quarters of the world’s population and then the wars that followed wiped out half of that. After everything happened, it was only a matter of time before the different countries started blaming each other and emptied their nuclear arsenals. You’re still surprised Seoul survived – if you can call what it has become “surviving”
hotter than hell by @chateautae f s a
↬ jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
to turn a bad thing good by @/chateautae f s a
↬ jungkook’s drunken one night stand goes awry when he comes to learn not only is he being forced into an arranged marriage, but it’s to the very girl he abandoned that night—and things get a lot more complicated when you’re the best hookup he’s ever had.
J’aime by @baepop f s a
↬ You’re the newest hire at a local café and head barista Jeon Jungkook takes you under his wing.
Written in the Stars by @/baepop f s a ft. kth
↬ You’re the girl of Jungkook’s dreams, literally. The only problem: you’re taken by his best friend
make me forget by @roseannekook f s a
↬ You are the lead vocalist and main dancer of your company’s first girl group, but on the fourth promotion of your debut song things don’t go as planned. At the brink of an uprising scandal, you seek refuge in the bathroom stalls…and find it in the arms of no one else but BTS’ golden maknae Jeon Jungkook.
one of your girls by @ggukiepie s a ft. pjm
↬ fwb au college au fuck boy au inspired by the song
boy in luv by @/ggukiepie f s a
↬ just two idiot best friends in l*ve college!au, bff!jk, athlete!jk, student council president oc, cheerleader!oc
the boy who left by @/gujoonim a
↬ As your eyes staring deeply into your possible client-to-be’s eyes, something crossed your mind, it was that pair of eyes that you were looking for when you being abandoned at the aisle on your wedding day. ceo au
love sewn by @jvnghxope s a
↬ You’ve never cared about the thin-as-paper walls of your beloved apartment until Jeon Jungkook moved next door. You could hear everything –from his late-night parties on Saturday, to the quality time he spent with his girlfriend in the intimacy of his bedroom. One day, everything ceases. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and you find yourself knocking his door before you can think it twice.
not yet by f s @bratkook f s a
↬ jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship.
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blazes of deceit by @periminkle f a
↬ when the opportunity to finally venture past the stone walls you’ve grown up in presents itself, you jump at the chance to discover the origin of those mysterious lights—even if the trip comes with a harsh truth and a suspicious, yet undoubtedly attractive, tour guide. tangled au disney au
southpaw by @starshapedkookie f s a
↬ Knowing Jeon Jungkook for the better part of your life, you thought you knew everything about him. Well, that was before you two disappeared from each other’s lives at least. When Jungkook suddenly finds himself buying you a coffee to rekindle your friendship, it leads to much more than you bargained for.
house of cards by @jeonggukingdom s a
↬ What does safe mean when you are chased by zombies, when every corner you turn could be the last one for you? What do words like home and future mean when you’re always on the run and every moment could be your last? They mean nothing and everything at the same time and Jeongguk is all of the above. He is your safe haven, he is your home and he is your future. But things like that crumble easily in your world.
enouement by @littlemisskookie s a
↬ War is Hell, but it’s what you had to do to take your brother’s place. Of course, between the days of Hell are little slices of Heaven you’d call your Captain, Jeon Jungkook. mulan au disney au
miss taken by @junghelioseok f s
↬you pride yourself on being a professional, but sometimes your students' parents really test your patience. single parent dilfjk jk e2l
the ex text by @shadowkoo f s a
↬ The 2 AM texts have started again. It’s a bittersweet familiarity that you can’t run away from, and despite wishing to forget him: no one will ever measure up to the exceptional standard set by your ex, and you’ll never have anyone as good as him either. Like a permanent mark on your heart, Jungkook’s presence has become an insatiable craving, an addiction you'll never outgrow or cast aside.
the proposal by @hansolmates f s a
↬Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. based on the movie the proposal e2l
red and gold by @/thedefinitionofbts f s
↬It’s no secret that genius, billionaire, international playboy, and philanthropist- Jeon Jungkook, better known as the CEO of Jeon Industries-and even better known as Iron Man, is one of the most intelligent, wealthy, and powerful men in the world. There’s nothing that can get to him or his ego, that is, until you happen to show up and give him a run for his money. 
burning bright by @snackhobi s
↬there are no secrets in the drift. if jungkook were to see the mess inside your head and heart, laid utterly bare, he’d turn away from you. based on the movie pacific rim
but we loved young by @jl-micasea-fics s a
↬Jungkook is everything you’re not, the ying to your yang. Your tight knit friendship nurtured from childhood survived the major life events that most don’t, and to that end, you suppose you’re fated to be together, until unrequited longing is eventually noticed, and boundaries are forever crossed.
the shoulder on which you cry by @lemonjoonah f s a ft. knj
↬ after moving away from your hometown five years ago, you’ve struggled on every return. each trip back being made out of haste due to an unfortunate event in your life. namjoon has always been there to help you through those moments. but when he can’t be there to support you during your current trip home, jungkook offers to stay by your side and be the comfort you need. 
illusion of choice by @hobibliophile f s a
↬ You’ve grown up with the Jeons, Jungmin and Jungkook, for as long as you can remember, your parents being very close. But little did you know that this is because you are in fact arranged to be married to the Jeon heir, Jungmin. However, a tragedy causes Jungkook to take up his brother’s mantle, and that includes becoming your fiancé.
the blue princess and her red rose by @/cutaepatootie f s a
↬ After all, he was her red rose, while she was just another one of the many blue roses that grew in the dying gardens of Greyria. princess au
rigor mortis by @readyplayerhobi f s a
↬ A night out at a bar results in you going home with a young and attractive police officer. But if you think the night was something to remember, that’s nothing compared to waking up to find a zombie outbreak in the city. A chance encounter with Officer Jeon leads to him helping you escape from the plague infested city.
lowkey by @joonbird s
↬ Jungkook is the nude model for your art school’s life drawing class.
part-time lover by @sketchguk f s a
↬there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school. only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time. 
sweet apple biscuits by @rosaetae a
↬ a story about someone who receives letters from themselves ten years in the future and asks them to fix all their regrets and save a particular boy. inspired by the anime 'orange'
i'll be home by @wwilloww f s a ft.knj
↬ When your first love, Jungkook, disappeared from your village five years ago, no one thought he would return, let alone on the night of your betrothal to another man. 
white lies by @noteguk f s a
↬ in which Jungkook lies his way out of and into trouble. But he can’t tell white lies when it comes to you. 
yes coach by @/taleanewastime s
↬ You play in a local netball team and as a new season starts you have a new coach. Enter Jungkook, he may look soft, but he turns out to be a hard taskmaster, one who ruffles your feathers when he makes some changes to the team. Tensions grow between you through the weeks, until they finally reach breaking point.
spf 50 by @gimmeyoon f s
 ↬ If you have to spend your summer home from college working a job you hate, it might as well include sitting by the pool with Jungkook. Now if only kids could stop vomiting in it.
fifth wish by @jiminrings f a
↬ jeon jungkook, world-class socialite and nepotism baby, should be out every night to celebrate while he’s at his prime. why should he fake-date his bodyguard instead? alternatively, jungkook regularly throws coins to wishing wells with only one desire in mind — to get rid of you.
blacklisted by @/httpjeon s a ft. kth
↬after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men.
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↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library
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wibble-wobbegong · 1 year
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honestly i think that people who misunderstand mike the most are those who can’t understand that his emotional intelligence isn’t impacted by his obliviousness. they’re two different things entirely. mike has a pretty deep understanding of himself and what he feels, and we see him do a great job at communicating his anger to el in s1 in a manner that’s very intelligent for a twelve year old. mike understands that he’s angry at el for lying to him and he believes it’s wrong, but that doesn’t get in the way of him knowing el still deserves to have shelter and food. he takes care of her even though he’s angry because he understands that his justified anger doesn’t mean he can hurt her. of course he lashed out initially, but it doesn’t stay that way. he communicates.
mike has a great understanding of his own emotions and his own morality but he often struggles when it comes to others. mike connects with people through relatability and very direct communication; he needs to use his understanding of himself to understand others. when he’s trying to understand why el in S4, he tries to connect their experiences so he can understand why she would want to lie about being bullied to him. on the other end of the spectrum, we see mike connecting with will in the shed scene through his own experiences. it isn’t a memory like joyce or jonathan, not really. what he does is tells will that he’s important because of his impact on himself (mike). that may come off as egocentric, but that’s what mike knows how to do. he’s relying on his own experience to show will how important he is.
that’s also what makes mike and will work so well together. will communicates with mike in a way he understands. what mike needs in order to build a deeper relationship with people is for them to connect with him by telling him their own perspective. the moments that resonate with mike the most are the ones where will is telling mike his own experience. will’s brutal honesty is what mike needs in order to understand that something is wrong and his explanation that it’s scary to tell people how you really feel not only gives mike information to work with, it’s something we see him relate to.
in the same vein, this type of emotional intelligence is exactly what leads mike to repress himself so intensely. mike sees what’s happening clear as day and he doesn’t like it, so he pushes it down and away. he’s aware that he’s fighting something. but, and this is where that misunderstanding comes into play, his awareness that he’s repressing something and trying to fix himself doesn’t mean he’s intentionally hurting other people. he gets easily caught up in his own emotions and falls into habitual isolation to deal with it (we see this almost every season), which denies him that connection and perspective he needs in order to realize that what he’s doing is hurting other people. he gets so focused on fixing himself because his insecurities take over and start blinding him; he hasn’t allowed himself to be vulnerable enough to connect with other people, so he believes he’s alone in his experience and begins to isolate. in doing so, he hurts others, but it isn’t intentional and the second that connection reappears and that direct and brutal honesty is back, he starts to change. S3 is especially hard for him because el doesn’t quite have the ability to communicate what she needs or wants (and she still struggles with this in S4) and will isn’t giving him the full perspective he needs. but it’s enough for him to change.
this belief that mike’s isolation and need to create connections is done out of egocentrism is SO wrong but incredibly common otherwise. even those who understand he isn’t being intentionally harmful and is doing his best are still subject to the double edged sword of falling too heavily into the oblivious factor to the point where his understanding of himself is erased, or by falling into the idea that mike’s emotional intelligence means he must be aware of the harm he’s doing and is therefore doing it out of malice. it can be hard to balance because these features look so different in every relationship he has. mike doesn’t have the ability to communicate with everyone equally because not everyone understands how to communicate with mike, which is why we see him acting so differently in heart to hearts with will than with el. i fully believe that we could have gotten a sweet moment out of the elmike fight had they been able to understand each other, but they couldn’t. mike needs pieces of a puzzle to help him put things together in his head, but el can’t give him the pieces he needs because that isn’t how she communicates. her lack of ability to lay things out flat creates a harsh contrast with mike who needs that.
mike is self aware to a fault, and it’s only heightened by how he understands the world around him. he feels his emotions how he feels them and understands that, but everything else is a puzzle to solve and he only has his own experience to give him the ability to solve it. he gets better at solving puzzles over time, but the puzzles continue to get more advanced as his world becomes more complex, as it the result of growing up.
TLDR; he Autism as hell 👍
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bylertruther · 2 years
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thinking about how...
this show has always been about will, his disappearance, and the ripple effect that all has had on everyone. when they mention which characters in particular, it's interesting to note that these are all characters who end up being pivotal / endgame ships. joyce and hopper, jonathan (and nancy), and mike (and will). the only one missing would be lucas (and max), but lucas gets a lot of focus in season one anyway and their relationship is a highlight of the second season. these ships all also continue to grow closer as the show goes on.
mike is introduced as someone with "near-crippling insecurity". he cares very much about falling behind his peers (see: the second sentence) and what others think of him (see: him not wanting to tell eleven he gets bullied). they specifically point out that mike and will escape their feelings of alienation through fantasy. they, unlike dustin and lucas, have a connection to dnd that goes beyond just enjoying it. for them, this is the one place they can be themselves uninhibited or more than what they think they are.
mike finds himself on a real adventure for will. the dogged, devoted, and relentless courage we come to associate with mike was born out of his desire to save will. mike was inspired by will. (see: when he radios lucas and tells him that will could've cast protection, but he didn't. he put himself in danger to save the party.) he becomes the leader we know and love because of will. he faces many monsters—troy and hawkins' homophobia, the bad men, a demogorgon—for will. the last sentence makes you think it's tied to eleven, but really... it isn't.
this is further supported by the fact that mike was originally supposed to enter the upside down by himself! at twelve years old! he was supposed to enter a scary monster-filled dimension because of how much he loves and misses his best friend. he does this for will, because he believes with all his heart and knows that will is alive, and they just need to find and help him somehow. will is the one that inspires mike to unearth that courage he didn't know he had.
the montauk / stranger things bible states that "mike will meet and bond with eleven," but the only time it "defines" their relationship you could say is when it parallels them to elliot and e.t. who are obviously not a romantic couple lol. the only romantic relationship mentioned in this pdf is between jonathan and nancy.
piggybacking off of point five, i feel like that, paired with how everyone pushed mike towards eleven, and the emphasis on mike feeling insecure over never having had a girlfriend or a first kiss, suggests that their relationship in this season is not romantic in nature. not really, anyway.
when mike is talking about their future, this is what he says:
See, I was thinking, once all this is over and Will’s back and you’re not a secret anymore, my parents can get you an actual bed for the basement. Or you can take my room if you want, since I’m down there all the time anyway. My point is, they’ll take care of you. They’ll be like your new parents, and Nancy, she’ll be like your new sister.
whenever mike is talking to eleven without any outside influence, he's always treating her in a platonic or familial manner. she's the one that he's talking about as if they're siblings, not will. he's 100% indisputably describing a family here, because that's what he sees her as—an adopted sister, that is—when no one else is influencing him or misconstruing his kindness towards her. he knows that she has no one and he obviously likes her and considers her a friend. he doesn't want to lose her or for her to be alone and hurt again, so this is the next logical step in his mind.
(also, remember in season three when mike said "i love her and can't lose her again" and when el questioned him on it, he said it was "a family discussion", then again played stupid and didn't say it back when eleven brought it up a second time at the end? and then in season four continued to avoid saying those words in a romantic context until will confessed and then pushed him to say it? and even then he spoke about how he still viewed her as the girl he met in the woods, who needed a family, is a superhero? aka not saying why he loves her or mentioning any of her personality traits like jonathan and nancy are able to? lol.)
it's only when she asks for clarification and inadvertently reminds him of everything everyone has been saying all week that he backtracks. but when it's just him and her and he forgets everything he "should" be doing or feeling at this age, aka kissing girls and getting a girlfriend? it's 100% familial and platonic.
he kisses her in this scene, yes, lol, but that's after she questions him and she's still not understanding that they apparently aren't just friends. she doesn't know what dating or romantic love is until season two when she's been binging soaps in the cabin.
and yes he dances with her at the snow ball in season two, but 1) he promised her, 2) she's his friend he hasn't seen in forever, and 3) what were they supposed to do? stand off to the side awkwardly while everyone else dances? he's a paladin: he made a promise to her and so he intends to keep it.
additionally, that s1 kiss being the only one that the duffers actually planned (at that point in time) suggests this (in my opinion), too.
in eleven, mike finds a friend in a girl for the first time ever. in mike, eleven finds her first friend in general ever. their bond, which is likened to elliot and e.t., is misconstrued as being romantic because that's what everyone around them assumes it is.
mike falls for this because 1) he's insecure (and behind the scenes in interviews finn especially has described their relationship as something that makes mike "normal" and allows him to "impress people", two things which are(/were?) important to mike), 2) doesn't know any better, and 3) as a fantasy lover, do you really think he's going to turn down or hurt an actual "superhero" who just so happens to be the first girl ever to not be grossed out by him?
eleven falls for this, too, because 1) she also doesn't know any better, 2) the soaps she watched for almost an entire year straight and her isolation in general definitely painted their friendship in a different light for her, and 3) he was her first friend. of course she's going to have special feelings for him that maybe eventually in time did turn into actual romantic feelings, but were definitely not that at the start when she knew nothing of the world.
so, like... yeah. all of the parallels between mike and eleven's familial figures in life and the disparity between mike's relationships with eleven and will aren't just a wacky coincidence. it's by design.
mike and eleven both tell us how they feel about each other in season one, the duffers have expressed their vision for those two since before stranger things was even called stranger things, they knew what they wanted to do in season two before casting as well, they called season three their season to "play in the sandbox" before going back to showing their hand and wrapping story lines up, and mike and will's relationship has been this close and interlinked since the very beginning, too. it's all there in the text itself. none of this is new and all of it is intentional.
and, if we are to continue this pattern... mike is going to discover even more courage that he didn't know he had when will finally comes clean and tells him how he really feels about him. he'll realize, too, that he doesn't need to escape into a fantasy world or conform in order to have what he truly wants or be the person he wishes he could be. he'll realize that he's brave, strong, and loved entirely for who he is in this world, too; that it's real, true, and has been his entire life.
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sarahowritesostucky · 5 months
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📖"Body Heat" : A Snowpiercer-Marvel Mashup Story
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Part 2 - "A Microcosm of Humanity, Boiled Down to its Base Elements" (Wait! I haven't read Part 1 yet!)
Rated: Explicit
Pairing: Curtis Everett x ofc
Tags: dystopia, food insecurity, post apocalypse, age difference (18/34), dark!fic, implied/referenced suicide, background character death (offscreen), poverty, arranged marriage, implied/referenced past cannibalism, hurt/comfort, attempted rape, dub-con
Summary: Curtis stops a would-be assailant in the wash car. Still worried for Rose's safety, he brings her back to his bunk to sleep.
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Author's Note: This fic is dark. This chapter includes explicit, non-gory mentions of: past cannibalism, the consumption of rat meat, and a character who attempts to rape another character but is stopped just in time. 🖤DNI if you can't handle it 🖤
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Part 2 - "A Microcosm of Humanity, Boiled Down to its Base Elements"
Mealtimes in the Tail are more about social interaction than they are about food—Kind of hard to have a dinner party when the only things there are to feast on are protein blocks and a meat that you’re pretending is chicken, after all. But they make due.
They have dishes now, at least. A couple hundred plastic bowls and cafeteria cups, dimpled and chipped at the rims, but still serviceable. They’re some of the newer amenities, part of the package that the council negotiated for in last year’s talks. It’s never much but it’s something, brings them just a smidge closer to being able to live like human beings, rather than animals.
It’s been twelve years, and still they’re celebrating over bowls when they should be aiming for antibiotics. But conditions were so miserable after Boarding that even the smallest concession from uptrain feels like a luxury now. Curtis would prefer the progress be faster, but he’s not in charge. He’s Gillam’s second in command, and Gillam’s so old and frail now. After the turmoil of the Year Two (and Three, and Five) Revolts, Curtis made him a tacit promise to not resort to such violent measures again lightly. For now, negotiated castoffs and increased recyclables from uptrain will have to do.
He doesn’t see Rose again for the rest of the afternoon. Four hundred people living in a metal box tend to brew discontent and interpersonal problems over the tiniest of things, and as one of the Tail’s five elected, a big chunk of Curtis’ days are spent solving petty conflicts between the Tailies. He navigates his way through a list of waiting disputes in the market car and in the bunks, making his rulings on what’s fair, and trying not to worry obsessively over Rose and where she is and how she may be doing and who may be bothering her.
But he’s not entirely successful, because something still loosens in his chest when he catches sight of her—looking peaceful and sitting quietly alone at dinnertime. He walks over, grinning the closer he gets as she continues not to notice his approach. “Hey Petal!” he whisper-yells right beside her as he taps her shoulder and sinks down to sit next to her on the floor.
She gasps and almost drops her bowl, but a relieved smile splits her face when she sees that it’s him. “Curtis! Hey. It’s you.”
“Course it’s me.” He frowns quizzically at just how relieved she looks. “Who’d you think it was?”
“Nobody,” she excuses quickly, shaking her head and inching over to make more room for him. “Just glad to see you, is all. Today’s been … long.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Did you get the clothes to Gilliam?”
Her smile softens and she nods. “Yeah. And the arm to Coulson.” She gestures down the car to where Phil is sitting, using the rudimentary limb with clumsiness but steadfast determination. “He has to practice, but I think it’s gonna work pretty well for him.”
“I’ll bet.” Curtis smiles, happy for him. Phil’s also one of the elected, and along with Gilliam, Curtis, The (recently deceased) Man, and Banner, he’s always done his best to help the people in the Tail survive. That’s why he’s currently missing his arm from just above the elbow.
Curtis remembers the taste of human flesh. He wishes he didn’t, but he does. And what’s more, he wishes it’d tasted worse than it had, wishes he didn’t have the memory of how his mouth had watered when he’d finally gotten to eat for the first time in over a week. He averts his eyes from Coulson, ashamed, setting his bowl on the floor and sliding his right hand up under his left coat sleeve to trace the jagged evidence of his own failure.
It hadn’t tasted bad. That’s something he’s never said out loud. Because it’s too shameful. Talking about the early days isn’t forbidden, per say, but there’s an understanding amongst the Tailies that you don’t discuss the actual experience of eating human flesh. Unless it’s in private with someone very, very close to you, you don’t talk about the worst things that went down in those days.
Curtis glances back to Phil, wondering. He doesn’t actually know who he’s eaten. Back in the Desperation, there had been a decision amongst the volunteers that their donations would be mingled and prepared anonymously, to avoid people knowing—even family members, even the donors themselves. Curtis gets lost in the horror of the memory for a minute or two as he stares across the car at Phil, wondering, remembering the taste …
He snaps out of it when Rose says something to him, and he realizes that he’s still got his right hand stuck up his left coat sleeve, touching the scar. Rose’s voice pulls him out of it, like a fog suddenly lifting, and Curtis hastily picks his bowl back up, asking Rose to repeat herself and then mustering a cheerful answer for her as he puts the memories of the past back in the box on the shelf in his mind.
He and Rose sit shoulder to shoulder and converse over their bowls of stew. It’s one of only a few things that Tailies ever have to eat, and it consists of broth made from cooked down protein blocks, and chunks of meat from the only other animal that shares the tail section with them.
Yeah, they eat rats. Curtis has stopped caring at this point. In fact, he’s not sure he ever really cared in the first place. Once you start with cannibalism, the only way to go is up. And it doesn’t taste too bad—especially since they’ve graduated from catching the rats to actually breeding them in cages. Between that and the artificial salt substitute that Curtis negotiated as part of last year’s package, things have a nicer flavor to them than they used to.
“Didn’t you work in the kitchen car for a hot second?” he says between one sip and another, when he’s paused to try and use his fingernail to get a stringy bit of meat out from between his teeth. “What’d Wanda have you and MJ doing in there?”
Rose makes a face. “There're only a couple steps to making this slop, Curtis. Use your imagination.”
He laughs at the comical shudder she gives, and she kicks him for laughing at her. “So dramatic,” he teases. “What do you have to compare it to, anyway, huh?” He rolls his eyes. “Train babies. Don’t realize how good you have it.”
She gasps and pokes him as though he’s heaved a grave insult at her. “I am not a train baby!”
“Barely.”
“I’m eighteen!” she says, as if that makes her a full fledged adult. “I remember food from Before,” she insists, and Curtis shakes his head in amusement at her.
“Fine. What do you remember?” He’s breaking one of his own rules for her, talking about Before. It should alarm him but it doesn’t. “What food?” he taunts.
She sticks her chin out haughtily and thinks about it, before declaring, “Goldfish. And noodles. I remember noodles.”
It takes all Curtis has inside him not to snicker at her expense. He does want this girl to like him, after all. He looks down at his own bowl of stew and smiles fondly. “Goldfish crackers and noodles. That’s very specific.” The kind of thing a young child would remember. “Is that all?”
She twists her lips and admits, “Yeah.”
You have blocked a lot of it out, Curtis thinks sadly. Just not the parts that happened after Boarding. “It’s better that way,” he tells her. “Makes all of this more bearable.” Rose has never really had a life that was anything other than “bearable,” and while that is something of a mercy for her, it also makes Curtis want to be the one to give her more; be the one to introduce her to finery and pleasure, show her what it can taste like, what it can feel like. “There’s things I want to get for us,” he tells her, speaking quietly because he doesn’t need the people nearby overhearing and getting themselves worked up. “Things for the Tail, food I want to negotiate for. I think this might be the year.”
Rose looks intrigued. “What?”
“Lean closer,” Curtis whispers. “This is top secret.”
She smirks and scootches even closer to him, until they’re pressed together from hip to shoulder. “What?” she whispers.
Curtis looks her in the eye and lets the tension build for a moment, trying his damnedest to keep his expression serious, and then he declares, “Goldfish and noodles.”
She gives an outraged squawk and swats at him for making fun of her, though she’s laughing herself. “You suck!”
Curtis stays her hand, pulling her into a one-armed hug and apologizing through his own laughter. “Wait, wait, wait. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Shh. I’ll tell you.” He calms down from laughing. “I’ll tell you, I will.”
“Jerk,” she mutters, but he can hear the fondness in her voice.
“Chickens,” he whispers in her ear. “You remember those?”
She purses her lips thoughtfully, then shrugs in a way that tells him she really doesn’t. “That’s an animal,” she says, in what she doesn’t realize is a sad demonstration of her limited knowledge. “A bird.”
“Yeah,” Curtis says. “Yeah it is. You know the New Year’s eggs?” Every year since Year Five, a wheelbarrow from uptrain arrives on New Year’s Day bearing the coveted gift of hundreds of gleaming white, hard-boiled eggs—one for each blasted soul who lives trapped in the Tail section. Rose hums and Curtis nods. “Those come from chickens. They lay the eggs and you can eat them. It’s a good source of food. And you can kill the chickens and eat them, too. Eat their meat.”
“But … don’t baby chickens come from the eggs?” Rose asks naively.
Curtis smirks. “Yeah, but that’s when they’re fertilized. If a male chicken isn’t around fucking the hens, then the eggs just come out, and you can eat ‘em. They don’t have baby chicks in them.” He watches Rose’s face screw up at the stark visual, and is surprised when she bluntly declares,
“Oh. So … like a period, with us.”
Curtis almost swallows his tongue. First of all, he wouldn’t have expected Rose to be able to make the comparison. Because she may be old enough to bleed, but they don’t exactly have comprehensive sex ed in the Tail. As far as Curtis knows, the girls are taught young—very young—what sex is, what it leads to, and how to avoid it at all costs. Curtis doesn’t think he’s heard a person talk openly about these things since before Boarding. It just isn’t done. The women handle their stuff themselves, and the men have their heads bitten off if they interfere.
“Um,” he says, face heating. “Yeah, I guess. Except you don't lay eggs." Rose snorts and Curtis winces and scratches awkwardly behind his ear. “So anyway, I want to get us some chickens. If we had those, it’d help a lot.”
Rose stares pensively into the depths of her soup bowl, with its globulous broth and stringy bits of meat. “It’d taste better than this?”
Curtis scoffs. “Most things do, Petal.”
“Jeez, you’re really sticking with that, aren’t you?”
He wraps an arm around her shoulders and gives her a squeeze, laying out his vision for the future. “I want to negotiate for another car. With dirt and chickens.”
“Dirt?”
“Yeah. They grow things uptrain. Crops. We could too. We could raise chickens in half of it, grow potatoes in the other half.”
Rose looks at him like he’s just announced he’ll be negotiating for the moon. “They’ll never give it to you,” she whispers. “Why would they?”
“If I could threaten them with something big enough. We might have the bargaining power.”
“What would you threaten them with?”
He smiles sadly and squeezes her shoulder. “I dunno. That’s what I’ve gotta figure out.”
“But you’re not gonna … I mean there’s not going to be another war, is there? Not like before …”
There’s genuine fear in her voice when she asks, which makes Curtis feel like crap. Everyone had suffered back then. Many had died. He thinks about how Rose would’ve only been eleven or so, during the Year Five Rebellion. Just a kid, still playing with the crummy little doll Curtis made for her. “No, Hon,” he promises gently. “No. There are other ways. Other things we can do to gain leverage. It just takes time.”
“What ways?”
He shakes his head and smiles. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I can’t help it,” she pouts. “I may not know many things. But I like to know them.”
He smiles fondly. “I know, Petal. You’re curious. Always have been. You like to 'know the scuttlebutt', as they say. You’re not afraid to ask questions. I like that about you.”
“You do?”
“... Among other things.” He sees her cheeks color prettily, and realizes he’d better stop talking. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“I’d tell you if I could, but these things are above your paygrade. Me and Gilliam’ll figure it out.” He shoots her a wink. “That’s why they pay us the big bucks.”
She titters at that, because they both know that there’s no such thing as money in the Tail. Oh there’s currency, for sure, just not the kind that’s handed over as stacks of bills. Curtis lets his eyes drag over the few parts of Rose’s body that he can see: her attractive face and the slope of her neck, the delicate suggestion of a collar bone where it peeks out before it’s swallowed up by her sweater. He looks away. “I want to improve things for us. Change is possible. There are things we can get. We just have to work for it.”
“What things?” she presses, leaning closer.
He thinks about brushing her off, but he can see that she’s genuinely curious, and the interested gleam in her eyes sways him. Because ideas can mean hope, and he wants her to have hope. They’ve both seen what can happen when there isn’t any.
He tells her about the basic medicines and medical supplies that could be useful, tells her about the items they could receive if people uptrain were more willing to bargain. “More castoffs would go to us, instead of into the recycling machines,” he tells her. While it is true that some old and unwanted items eventually make their way into the Tailies’ “market,” the sad fact is that many more materials are cleansed, disintegrated, and recycled for use through the train’s 3d printing machines. Curtis has never seen them, but due to his yearly talks with a woman named Melanie, he now knows that they exist, and they’re why not much gets sent back to the Tailies.
“We’d have more clothes, toys and books, all sorts of new things.” Of course when he says “new” he only means new in the sense of new to them. To people in the front, Tailies are second class citizens at best, subhumans at worst. The funny thing is, Curtis doesn’t take offense at it like he used to. He’s learned by now that it’s human nature to kill, cheat and steal, clamoring all over each other whenever resources are limited. They’ve literally eaten the weak in the Tail, after all. It’d be hypocritical to hold the first class passengers to a higher standard.
No, Snowpiercer is just a microcosm of humanity boiled down to its base elements. Nine-hundred people surviving on a miserable little train, barreling endlessly around the frozen corpse of the planet. Of course there’s going to be subjugation of the weak so that others can have more. Curtis doesn’t hold it against them anymore, but he sure as hell isn’t going to take it lying down. The Tailies were never ticketed passengers. They forced their way on, they scraped and scrounged and earned their survival. And if they ever get the chance, they’ll turn the tables on the passengers uptrain in a heartbeat. Curtis makes speeches about “leveling the playing field,” but he doesn’t have visions of utopia. Not really. He just wants to die in a feather bed.
“What would we have after chickens?” Rose asks, drawing Curtis out of his gloom. She knows as well as he does, what the definition of a 'pipe dream' is, but it’s fun to pretend with someone you like, and Curtis likes her. Always has. He likes that she hasn’t turned grey and dull like everyone else in the Tail. So he indulges her 'what ifs' and they continue to tease each other over various colorful and increasingly stupid imaginings: how they’ll have potatoes, and then beef, then televisions, bathtubs, a swimming pool.
At some point, Curtis realizes that he’s actually managed to make her smile, and giggle. Even sitting on a cold steel floor slurping at a bowl of rat and god-knows-what stew, he feels like a king knowing he was able to do that. “You’re really beautiful when you smile,” he blurts out, soaking up the way that her eyes get just a little bit wider and her lips part in surprise. He averts his attention back down to his bowl, pleased as punch. “‘Course, I always think you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, fully intending for her to hear.
She gets quiet after that, bashful and seemingly deep in thought. Curtis doesn’t worry though, because when everybody settles in to listen to that night’s story, she goes to fetch one of the blankets off her bunk and brings it back. She plops herself right back down next to Curtis and hands him a corner of the blanket to wrap it around both of their shoulders. He obliges. The assembly car fills up for that night’s entertainment, and just before the lights are dimmed down to their lowest level, Curtis locks eyes with Tanya from across the car, who’s shooting him a scrutinizing look. He’s grateful to escape her judgment for the moment, but he knows she’ll be on him before long.
They set out the tall stool at the head of the car, and Painter, the Tail’s historian, climbs up and settles on it.
A quiet man of short stature, Painter’s been performing the nightly stories since almost from the very beginning. He has a way of seeing things that others don’t, a way of weaving words and details together in graduating, elaborative cadence; like his drawings, like strings on a loom, always managing to convey the true heart of a matter in a way that resonates with people. It’s the closest thing to watching a movie any of them will probably ever get again, and in Curtis’ opinion it has just as much value as the food they feed their bodies with. People need more than just food to survive. They need community, they need love, they need hope.
Painter sits silently at first—a sign that he hasn’t decided on the topic and is taking suggestions that night. Someone calls out in the dimness to suggest The Man for tonight’s story, and a murmur of general agreement goes through the crowd. Up ahead on his stool, Painter nods. The Man was well known in the Tail, having long-served on Gillam’s council, among other things. Curtis hadn’t been lying to Rose, when he’d said that her father had been a good leader.
In the crook of his arm, he feels her shift subtly. Aware that this might be hard for her, he leans over and kisses the top of her head. “Hey, are you okay?” he whispers, giving her the option. “You want to go?” But she shakes her head and tucks herself further into him, so Curtis relaxes back, looking forward to getting to hold her in his arms for the next hour or two.
Painter does The Man justice. Children are always kept in another car during storytime, so that the plotlines don’t have to be watered down for their sensibilities, but even still, Curtis doesn’t doubt that Painter knows Rose is present, because he takes care to soften the corners of the story where she features, and to use gentle words when the most painful memories are fleshed out.
For over an hour, Curtis lets his eyes slip closed and the words wash over him. He tucks his nose into Rose’s hair and breathes the scent of her in, holding her small, soft body against him. He can feel every shift and sway that she gives as she hears the story, too, and they enjoy their time together, connecting over the shared intimacy of Painter’s words.
At some point, he brings her into his lap, and she comes so easily—like she was just waiting for the invitation, and is relieved that he wants her there. This isn’t something they’ve done before. Not like this. And he can tell by the slight tension in her body that she knows it, too. This is new. It could be the first time a man has ever showed her attention like this, and Curtis wants it to be good and easy for her. He gently rubs her back as the story stretches on, relieved when he can feel all the tension slowly leaving her. “Good girl,” he whispers against her hair.
She hums and rubs her cheek on his chest with complete trust, and Curtis suddenly remembers what it used to feel like to sink into a full, hot bath. Is this what it means to be touch starved? he wonders. Probably. It’s been so long since he’s been genuinely intimate with another person, that he’d almost forgotten the feeling.
Eventually he can hear the tone of Painter’s words changing, can hear it all coming to a close as he wraps up his retelling of that night’s story. Curtis has never hated anything more. Please, he thinks. Please let him keep going. Let him keep talking just a little bit longer so she’ll stay in my arms. He doesn’t want to let her go.
… Maybe if he plays his cards right, he won’t have to.
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Tanya does confront him that night, cornering him by her spot before he can follow after Rose on her path to the wash car. “Pretty sure that girl knows how to bathe herself,” she says, hand planted firmly on Curtis’ chest. “She doesn’t need you, Curtis.”
Curtis loses sight of Rose going into the next bunk car, and he settles back onto his heels, glaring at Tanya. “I’m trying to look out for her.”
Tanya raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “You sure that’s all you’re trying to do?”
Curtis’s eyes narrow. “Have you been paying attention? Look around.” He nods at the crowded bunk car around them and speaks in a hushed tone. “You’re in charge of all the female stuff, you should know better than anyone what’ll happen now that her father’s gone. I’m only trying to protect her.”
Tanya purses her lips. “Uh huh. Protect her with your penis, is that how?”
“Jesus.” Curtis takes a step back, crossing his arms in frustration. He leans back against a metal rail. “I’m just being realistic,” he eventually says, after sulking over it for a moment. He respects Tanya—she’s a crucial part of the Tail, helping the women who get pregnant and give birth, helping the girls when they start developing (and, eventually, when they start attracting the attention of the men). “You’ve seen them looking?” he asks, not having to look at Tanya to know that she understands him. “So what am I supposed to do? Just wait until somebody else stakes their claim?”
Tanya makes an angry sound, though it isn’t directed at Curtis. “I stop them.”
“You stop the ones you can,” Curtis says lowly. “But eventually—”
“Eventually is eventually. Right now is right now,” she hisses.
Curtis turns back to her. “We play it your way and the first guy who stakes his claim gets her. That’s how it works. You know that. Is that what you want, huh?” Tanya’s face works in frustration, and Curtis softens. “Hey,” he says, placing a consoling hand on her shoulder. “I don’t like it either. We do the best we can with what we have.” He feels her shoulders rise and fall in a beleaguered sigh.
“I boxed Batroc’s ears last week,” she tells him; her way of giving tacit approval. “Keep an eye on that dirtbag.”
Curtis nods. He’s aware of who the biggest threats are, currently. It’s the men in their twenties and thirties who prey on the up and coming girls. Marriage isn’t a thing in the tail so much as claiming is. The men have a sort of ‘first dibs’ honor system that Curtis despises, but that he can’t change on his own. Not when the majority is so set on it. “I’m not going to force her,” he promises Tanya. “Okay? I’ll give her the choice. You know I will.”
Tanya’s jaw works, but eventually she nods and turns to the side to let him pass. Curtis pats her shoulder in thanks and heads off in the direction that Rose went with her towel.
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He gets there just a few seconds too late—or at least, that’s what he thinks when he hears her crying out from the women’s side of the wash car. Curtis barrels around the partition, heedless of whoever else may be in there when he can hear Rose in distress.
There’s a man standing at her back, pushing her face up against the wall of one of the stalls. She’s naked, the shower spraying aimlessly not even a foot away. She’s struggling, crying … and the man’s pants are halfway down his thighs.
Curtis sees red. “Get the fuck off her!”
Everything happens in a blur: him pulling the man back by his shirt and throwing him onto the floor at the opposite side of the car, the man’s head hitting the wall, Rose crying out in fear, Curtis going over to gather her naked body into his arms. “Are you okay?” he asks breathlessly, holding her as she sobs and presses her head of soaked hair against him. His hands slide over the water-slicked skin of her back, his heart in his throat. “Did he hurt you?”
She sobs and shakes her head, clinging to him. “Curtis!”
“Shh, you’re okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He looks across the car at the man, who’s now rubbing his head with a pained wince. Curtis feels rage consume him and he has no control over his actions as he abandons Rose by the stall and stalks across the car to punch the guy square in the face. He immediately grabs his shirt collar and hauls him back in. “Who the fuck do you think you are?!” he roars.
“Stop!” the man—a guy Curtis knows only as Hodge—coughs out, speaking through blood and what’s likely a broken nose. He holds up his hands to defend himself from further assault, and Curtis shakes him with a furious growl.
“Did you touch her?! What did you do? I’ll kill you!”
“I didn’t!” Hodge coughs, pushing against Curtis. “I didn’t do anything! I was just—”
Curtis slams him back into the wall of the car. “Then why’s your dick out?!” Hodge sinks down the wall to the floor and Curtis follows him down. “Answer me!”
“I just wanted to talk to her!”
He’s about to reach down and rip this guy’s nuts off, but Rose calling to him from the other side of the car draws his attention away: “Curtis, please. Curtis!” She’s standing there—naked, wet and shivering, futilely trying to cover herself. She looks at him pleadingly through her tears. “He didn’t. You stopped him. He didn’t.”
It’s enough to make Curtis rein himself in from further violence. Rose needs him more than he needs to hurt Hodge. Still, he shakes the man again as he hauls him back up to standing and shoves him towards the exit of the car. “This isn’t finished,” he warns him at the door, pushing him through hard enough that he falls to his ass on the other side. Curtis points at him. “You’ll pay for this.”
He slams the door and goes back to Rose, who’s still standing there looking lost, shivering, cold. The shower’s still running, so Curtis hurries over to turn the water off. He grabs the towel that’s hanging on the hook and brings it to Rose, intending to bundle her up as quickly as he can. She takes it and wraps it around herself, but it ends at mid thigh and Curtis’ eyes are drawn to a trickle of red running down her inner thigh. All the blood drains from his face. “You’re bleeding,” he says, horrified.
Rose looks down at it and sniffles. “Oh.”
“I’ll fucking kill him,” Curtis breathes, already turning to go back out and finish the job.
“Curtis! Curtis wait!” Rose grabs his arm with both hands as she shakes her head frantically. “I’m fine. It’s my period. He didn’t hurt me.”
Curtis calms down, his chest heaving from adrenaline. “You swear?” he urges, grabbing her upper arms and holding her in front of himself to get a better look at her. Now that he’s paying attention, he can see that she’s dripping wet and rattled, but not visibly hurt.
“I swear. I’m okay.”
His eyes track back down to the blood on her leg, suspicious until he looks beyond and sees her pile of clothing sitting over on a shelf. There’s a small folded rag there the likes of which he’s seen before; what the women pass around silently amongst themselves when they bleed. Curtis calms down as he realizes that Rose is telling the truth and not just lying to keep him from murdering Hodge. He lets go of her upper arms, suddenly aware that she may not want him touching her right at this moment. “Sorry,” he mutters, not knowing what else to say. He feels like he’s just run a marathon, his heart is beating so fast.
Rose surprises him by throwing herself into his arms again, a sob making her whole body heave against him. “Thank you,” she cries, hugging him, hiding her face against his chest. “Curtis, god. If you hadn’t come in …”
“Shh. I did. I did come,” he reassures her, wrapping his arms around her fully again now that he knows it’s welcome. She feels so small. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
They stand there for who knows how long. Minutes, at least. Calming down together. Rose’s crying fades, and Curtis’ blood pressure re-enters the stratosphere. He can feel the red hot anger and instinct to kill bleeding out of his mind the longer that time stretches on. He becomes aware of how cold Rose must be in only her towel and still all wet. “Here,” he says, ushering her back towards the shower. The stalls have changing areas right in front of them, and he steps back so that she can have privacy. “Get dried off. Get dressed,” he says. “I’ll …” his gaze falls back down to the trail of red on her leg. He swallows thickly and averts his eyes. “I’ll be right here.”
Shakily, she nods and pulls the curtain. She gets dressed, and when she opens the curtain again, her hair has been towel-dried and hangs limply about her face. She looks shyly up at Curtis. “Hey.”
“C’mere, Honey.”
She folds back herself into his arms eagerly, whining and pressing into him. “Thank you,” she whispers. “God, Curtis. Thank you.”
“I should’ve been here,” he grunts, thinking of how Tanya had held him back. He silently curses her. “I knew something like this would happen,” he hisses to himself, though he regrets saying it when he feels how it makes her shudder against him.
“Can we get out of here, please?”
He nods and starts to lead them towards the door of the car. He’s not surprised to find Hodge gone on the other side. Curtis silently fumes about what he’d walked in on, as he leads Rose backtrain. They walk through the car where her spot is, and Curtis gives her hand a squeeze when she looks back at it and makes a questioning noise. “I want you with me tonight,” he tells her, gentle but firm, because no way in hell is he leaving her alone now. “Please?” he coaxes, pleased when she looks up to him and nods.
“Okay.”
He smiles softly. “Good girl.”
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Curtis has a good sized spot. Certainly big enough for two, which he’s grateful for when he guides her to scoot in across the bed. His is the third bunk up out of four, which means climbing a few rungs, but once you’re up there it affords a fair sense of privacy, especially once he draws the curtain across to close them in together. He flicks the small lamp on, its dim bulb flickering to life and giving just enough light to see by.
He’s got his blankets spread out on the bed. There’s plenty of room enough to sit up and move around, all of his worldly possessions hung to the wall or else strapped against the top of the bunk above. “Home sweet home,” he says, gesturing around half heartedly. “Nothing special.”
“It’s nice.” Rose looks around with a little curiosity before tucking her head down. She shrugs. “You’ve got one of the lights. Our spot doesn’t. I mean … my spot,” she amends quietly. “Our neighbor has the light.”
The lights are built into the walls, meant to faintly illuminate what were once the train’s original baggage racks, powered by the Arc Reactor and impossible to move. But some people have managed to rig up their own lamps from salvaged materials and a little creative wiring over the years. There are no windows in the Tail. Curtis has heard that there are windows uptrain, but he doesn’t know whether to be jealous or not. Would it really improve anything, to have a view of the wasted, frozen world they left behind? He’s not so sure. At least this way they can pretend that Snowpiercer is all there is, the delusion only ruined whenever the Jackboots arrive to deliver food or raid them.
Curtis settles beside her and knocks their legs together. “I’ll keep my eye out for something in the market,” he promises. “Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t be in the dark.”
She smiles as though pained, looking down at her lap. “Being pretty is what got me into this mess.”
Curtis sighs. “No. It’s not just that, Hon.” He cups her face, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. “It’s not just that.”
“What then?”
He smiles sadly. “Look, if there’s one thing you gotta understand about men, it’s that we covet the rare … and the pure. You’re good. Truly good, in a way most of us aren’t. In a way we can’t afford to be.” He drops his hand and turns away, feeling gross for having told her that, for having included himself in the roster of ‘men’ who think like that. But it’s true. “That’s why you stand out,” he mutters. “None of us are good the way you’re good.”
“What? But you’re good.”
Curtis scoffs. “Please.”
“You are! You’re on council aren’t you?”
He rolls his eyes. “That means I’m good with people, not good. There’s a difference.”
“No,” Rose insists. “No, you help everyone. You lead us, try to make life better for us.” She gets incensed when he continues to disagree. “You do! You … you make dolls for little girls who’ve lost all their toys. You protect us.”
Curtis slumps back against the wall. “Is that what I did back there? Protected you?”
“Yes. Curtis you saved me. You stopped him from …” She falters, unable to say the word, and the silence grows uncomfortable between them. Eventually she stares down at her lap and scoffs bitterly.
Curtis looks over. He doesn’t like the pinch that’s settled between her eyebrows. There’s something strangely self-deprecating about it, and he can’t figure out what’s going on in her head. “Hey.” He nudges her knee with his. “What are you thinking, Hon?”
She shakes her head. “Hodge,” she whispers. “He said things.”
“Oh god. Don’t. Rosie, don’t pay attention to anything that cretin said. Did he threaten you? Because if he did, you know I still have half a mind to rip off his—”
“He said that somebody would choose me, and if it isn’t him it’ll be someone else ‘staking their claim’.” She looks rather mortified as she repeats it. “And he’s not wrong. I mean that’s the way it’s done, isn’t it?” she asks bitterly. “The men. They choose who they want. We don’t get a say. Not really.”
“Rosie,” Curtis mourns, wishing that he could spare her, wishing he could tell her that she has choices, choices that people will respect. But he doesn’t want to lie. She doesn’t deserve to be lied to. “Hey,” he says instead. “You know I care about you, right?”
She nods, sniffling. “Yeah.”
“You should sleep here. Not just tonight but every night.” He can tell by her reaction that she realizes what he means, and he’s pleased when she leans against his side, still seeking comfort in him. He relaxes now that the hardest part is done. “Would you like that, Petal?” he asks softly, wrapping his arm around her and holding her close. She scoffs at the nickname, and Curtis kisses the top of her head. It’s been a long time since he’s had another person in his bunk—a long time. Not having a partner is lonely, sure, but with the way things are in the tail, it’s easier just to jerk off. Romance is all but dead, as is evidenced by the Tailies’ near-transactional customs regarding sex and relationships. “Will you?” he checks, relieved when she gives a little nod and a sniffle.
“I don’t want to be alone.”
“I don’t want that either.”
They sit there in silence for a while, and just as Curtis starts to wonder if Rose has fallen asleep, she whispers, “What was it like?”
“What was what like?”
“Men and women. Before. How did it …” she pauses, considering what she wants to say, or perhaps how to ask. “My dad and my mom,” she settles on. “They loved each other. Nobody claimed my mom. They chose each other.”
Curtis nods and gives her arm a squeeze. “Yeah. That’s how it was.”
“Tell me?” she asks, sounding for all the world like a child asking for a bedtime story. “Please?”
Curtis rubs her back, resigning himself to telling her the truth. “People met,” he says. “At school, at work, through friends. If they liked each other romantically, they dated.”
“What’s ‘dated’?”
He winces where she can’t see. “When you liked someone, you’d ask them out on a date. You’d meet them and go do something nice together. Something fun. Get a drink or see a movie, eat a meal in a restaurant.”
“Did the man decide the dates?”
He frowns. “Sometimes. Women would too, though. Sometimes they’d be the one to ask the guy out. It just depended.”
“What happened next?” Rose asks.
“Well … you’d just keep spending time together, you’d keep dating. If the people decided not to date anybody else, they’d agree to be a couple. Boyfriend and girlfriend. … Or husband and wife.”
“What’s the difference?”
Curtis winces at how sad it is that she doesn’t know that. The long term implications of their confinement in the Tail section are obvious and jarring, at times like this. He licks his lips. “Marriage was more serious than dating. More permanent. You might break up with your girlfriend eventually, but if you made her your wife, then that was like saying you wanted to be together forever.” He doesn’t bother getting into the concept of divorce, knowing that she just needs a basic understanding of the matter. “That’s how it was,” he finishes. “Before.”
Rose is quiet for a long while, thinking it over. Eventually she says, “And now the men choose.”
Curtis hates how resigned she sounds about it. “What happened in the wash car isn’t allowed,” he says, aware of the way her body tenses against him. “I’ll make sure Hodge is punished. But the thing is, Sweetheart … I’m worried he won’t be the last.”
Rose sniffles. “It’s ‘cause my dad’s gone, isn’t it?”
“That doesn’t help the matter. But you’ve been old enough for a while now, for some. And I’ve seen them looking.”
“For some?” Rose peeks up at him. “Not you?”
Curtis hesitates to answer. “... You’re young, Honey.” It’s not like he can say that he wants her. But saying that he doesn’t would be a total lie. He might not be looking yet, if he didn’t have the other men to worry about; but he does have to worry about them, and so he has been looking. “I’ll make sure Hodge is punished,” he reiterates. “Severely. Even with the way things are now, that was completely beyond the pale.” He feels that hot surge of fury boil up inside him again as he thinks about it: Rose standing there, shivering and crying, Hodge with his hands on her, his dick hanging out of his pants. “He was going to rape you,” Curtis growls. “He needs to pay.”
“And the others?” she asks. “You’ll stop them?”
His chest aches at her unshakable faith in him and what she thinks he can do. “I can only protect you one way,” he murmurs, pulling her close and burying his nose in her hair so that she can’t look up at him with those big doe eyes again. “Has Tanya talked to you much?” he asks. Her head moves against him in a little nod, but she doesn’t say anything. Curtis kisses her hair. “What happened in the wash car could happen again. Someone’ll want to claim you.” She whines and rubs her face against his sweater, clinging to him. He pulls her into his lap just like he had during storytime, earlier that night. “Hey,” he soothes, “I wish it could be different, you know? Wish I could take you outta here, make other people respect your choices.” He sighs sadly. “That’s just not how it works anymore, Petal.”
“I know,” she says quietly. “Would you take me on a date, Before?” He hesitates, and she notices. She looks up at him. “You wouldn’t?”
“You’re too young for me,” he admits. “Or you would’ve been. Before.”
“Now I’m not?” she asks, and Curtis averts his eyes uncomfortably, because of course she’s still too fucking young. If they were still in the World she’d be finishing up high school, going to prom and the mall, glued to her phone. Learning about sex from school and porn and from fumbling encounters with boys her own age, not from some jaded midwife in a squalid train car.
“Now …” he sighs. “Now, it’s different. It doesn’t make it right, but girls become fair game once they’re about your age. And any man who’s interested can try for you.”
“I know that,” she whispers. “But what about you? Are you interested?”
Curtis’ mouth is dry. He can’t answer. So he nods smally instead. He’s surprised when she doesn’t seem frightened or upset by this admission. He lets his hands hold her more securely, fingers dipping into the curve of her waist from over her sweater. “I care about you,” he croaks. “I want to protect you. And the only way I know to do that is to claim you myself.”
“Will you?” she asks. She lays her cheek back against his chest and yawns. “Claim me?”
Above her resting head, Curtis grinds his teeth. “Let’s just take it one day at a time, okay Hon?”
“Mm.” She nods sleepily. “Okay. I trust you, Curtis. Thank you for helping me today.”
He doesn’t answer her, just holds her against him and rubs her back as she gradually falls to sleep. He’s not the man she thinks he is, and she should be in her own spot right now, not tucked away in here with him, because sooner or later he knows he’s going to take advantage. He’ll have her, and he’ll make sure that every other man in the train knows that she’s his. That may not be what she really wants, or even what’s good for her.
But oh well, he thinks. At least it’s better than the alternative.
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ohtobeleah · 11 months
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Okay, so I’m confused as to why all the adults treat Odette like she’s the bad guy. They all get sooo mad at her for the fact that she feels out of place in her family. And they also don’t really have a right to be pissed at her for bringing up her bio dad when they haven’t explained things to her, even in an age appropriate way. How is she suppose to know he’s such a piece of shit if no one tells her? Also the fact that the siblings get away with saying shit about how Bradley isn’t her real dad, while she gets in trouble for saying it out of insecurity is absurd. Like I get she’s a shithead teenager, but they are clearly ignoring her justifiable pain and insecurity and just punishing how she acts out in response to those feelings.
Finally someone asked why Odette is portrayed at the ‘villain’ in her teenage years. Finally! So thank-you for asking about this!
First I want to make it perfectly clear that Riley and Nick don’t actually know Bradley isn’t Dots biological dad until she’s screaming it at them after she gets back from the prison. It wasn’t a fact you and Bradley thought was important because as far as you were concerned Bradley was Odettes father. It didn’t change anything about the situation, it didn’t mean Odette was any less than a Bradshaw. And for what’s it worth Odette is actually pretty good at keeping that secret to herself. She’s knows for a few years.
Now let’s talk about Riley and Nicky for a second because the new revelation that their dad isn’t Odettes biological dad kinda makes them question a couple of things. They never throw that fact in her fact though— the only time Riley ever mentions the fact is when Odette comes home from Jake’s house after being sat down and told every damn detail she ever needed to know about your past.
“Dad told me and Nick last night you have a different dad than us.” Riley confessed as she stood up from her spot at the dining table, collecting her work before she made her way over to the staircase that Dot had already started walking up. “And if you’re gonna keep treating him like he hasn’t been the best dad ever then I’m glad you aren’t really his.” Dot’s stunned to hear her twelve year old sister say something so confronting, but she knows she deserves it. 
It’s the only time Riley ever says that, and Odette knows she’s been shitty. She deserved that slap. Nick never speaks about it—he doesn’t really see it as an issue. Odettes his big sister. That’s all he cares about.
Now—this is where it gets interesting because we’ve never really spoke about it but I’m hoping it gives some more clarification as to why Odette words and her actions are so much worse than they may seem. Because Odette does know.
She knows her biological dad is in prison for assault. That was the age appropriate explanation she got. She wasn’t told who he assaulted (or murdered for that matter) She’s been told that he isn’t a very good man, the age appropriate explanation she got about why you and Jaidyn didn’t work out was “He didn’t love me the same way Bradley does Dotty—and when you know how much someone values you, it’s hard to settle for anything less.”
Jake told Odette once that her biological used to be his best friend. Because he changed, before he turned into someone Jake couldn’t recognise anymore.
So the information Odette Bradshaw has by the time she’s marching her ass up to the prison and really starts to give her parents some hell is as followed.
Bradley Bradshaw adopted Odette the minute he could. Four years to the day he began living under the same roof as her. A pre-requisite that they couldn’t get around.
Her biological father signed his parental rights away.
Her biological father was in prison for assault. The assault she knew nothing about but knew was bad.
Odette knew her biological dad didn’t treat you very well, enough to make you run. Enough to have you breaking down after collecting her from school after receiving an after school detention.
She is aware her biological dad isn’t the best guy around. She is aware of that and the reactions she gets from you, from Bradley, from Jake, Rhett and even Aunty Amilia who isn’t phased by much tells her that there’s more to it then what she’s being told. Does she want to know? Yeah a little, but every single adult in her life still deals with the agony of that time.
What Odette doesn’t see when she gets home after staying the night at uncle Jakes is the panic attack he has afterwards. That reoccurring nightmares comes back, he can’t breath, can’t think, can’t stop crying. It’s why no one ever talks about it.
Odette is so justified in her feelings about being the black sheep in her family, but she never talks about it? She never seeks help or has open conversations with you or Bradley about it. It just comes out in this teenage angst that is so venomous and so cruel—because she knows that there’s more to the story.
Instead of asking? Instead of sitting her sixteen year old ass down and asking you to explain to her the entire situation (which you would probably have said no to initially but would have come around to) she’s arcing up like some venom snake and shuts Bradley out, shuts you out, shuts Jake and Rhett and Amilia and Chase out. All the people who care about her and just want to protect her.
For a man who would have given anything to see her six feet under.
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undyingembers · 2 years
Note
4, 8, 14 for Len from the wotr asks?
4. Companions: your OC’s rock / person they go to for reassurance?
Daeran, once he opened up enough for Len to be certain that he was the kind of person s/he can turn to for comfort. At first, Len was a little leery in confiding in Daeran. Even after they started courting, the way Daeran brushes everyone off and makes it clear that he doesn't care does mess Len up a little bit. But eventually, Daeran cannot deny that he cares deeply about Len and hates to see him/her unhappy.
Len's best friends Lann and Woljif are also good sources of comfort. For once, it's nice to have friends who understand what it's like to feel like a monster and that the world despises him/her. Lann and Len are very good at working through each other's insecurities (and Woljif as well, though he isn't as close to Lann as Len is).
8. First thing your OC did after closing the Worldwound?
The first thing Leonosa did when s/he got back to Drezen was go right up to his/her chambers in the Citadel and lock him/herself up inside for a long, long time. S/he didn't go to any meetings, didn't review any paperwork, didn't hear any petitions. S/he finally took some time to him/herself with his/her books and star charts. Daeran held a wild celebration that lasted for days, and Lenarius popped outside once and a while to go see friends before going back inside. Eventually, Daeran also broke away from the festivities to spend some time with Len, and the two of them spent their time in luxurious comfort and discussed all that has happened and what their plans for the future were.
14. What was your OC doing right before being brought into Kenabres on a stretcher?
CW: Attempted suicide
My original (and currently "canon") explanation was that, after 27 years of being kept under his/her family's thumb, Len decided that s/he needed to leave Marhaven. Unfortunately, the only socially acceptable way for him/her to do so was to join the Crusades and become part of one of the smaller groups patrolling the boarder. Areelu easily dispatched the group s/he was part of and carried Len off to his/her laboratory.
I'm thinking about retconning that one, actually. I already have this tidbit in Len's backstory: when s/he was fifteen years old, s/he tried to commit suicide by stepping off one of her family's castle towers. Areelu (who had been watching him/her) saved his/her life and deposited him/her on a nearby balcony. Len was severely shaken by the experience (and this is why s/he's afraid of heights), and everyone thinks that a manifestation of his/her budding magic had teleported him/her to that balcony. S/he never told anyone that it was a suicide attempt, and his/her family thinks that it was an accident.
I was thinking: what if, after Areelu saved Len, s/he didn't deposit him/her back to his/her family? What if Areelu took Len to her laboratory and kept him/her there for over twelve years and sort-of raised him/her as her child as she experimented on him/her? It would...be an experience for Len that's for certain, and Areelu would definitely modify Len's memories so that s/he thinks events happened more closely to the "original" explanation, except now Len's family thought s/he went missing all those years...
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laird-o-gerblins · 1 year
Text
Through the sheer force of 27mg of methylphenidate I'm going through my hoard-drawers, which have been maturing for over a decade now.
Growing up my mum's always encouraged throwing shit away that's no longer needed, as my grandad was a grade A+ super-hoarder, he had a cabinet under the stairs full of stuff that might be useful, some day, and heavens knows what in his room (separate from my gran's room) - all I *heard* about was the money stashed in his mattress (most of which has gone towards his and my gran's care expenses bc a working class family can't have elder care and keep more than £15k *inclusive of property* (read: family homes).
So to get to the actual point of my post, I've been torn for years between "get rid of xyz, it's not useful, you don't need it," and what I'm beginning to see is probably that good old autistic/ ND attachment to inanimate objects. There are some things here that are straight up junk - training notes my weirdass old boss insisted trainees take, fuckin' plastic bags, paintbrushes that are good for nothing but I felt guilty throwing out bc my aunty bought them for me when I was twelve.
HOWEVER there's also some shit that actually brings a smile to my face (now that I'm a little older and some of that ol' non-practicing culturally catholic guilt fell away.) Like the postcards I got on a school trip to Italy, when I'd been instructed to buy some for my cousin who collects them, forgot to buy at any of the actual historical site gift-shops we were at, then panic-bought at the airport before the trip back to Scotland. There's also the imprints from my orthodontics work, that's actually pretty cool to look over. Spent years remembering them every few months or so and thinking, wow, there's no way I should be keeping them.
BUT THEY'VE MADE MY DAY! I get to look back at my old teeth from before the braces and a million extractions, when I was a kid who felt out of place and didn't know why because I've never really heard of being trans never mind not being a boy *or* a girl, and my being out of step socially isn't that big of a deal in a small country school, and my extreme distractibility and emotional outbursts are simply dealt with instead of being examined as proof of Something. But this lil kid tried their best even when they were told their best wasn't good enough, and they took their insecurities about their fucked up teeth and turned it into a fun joke, calling themself a "vampire were-rabbit," because that Wallace and Gromit" movie was stuck in their head.
I'm really glad that lil kid stuck with themself long enough to become me and I'm finishing this fucking post before my wet eyes develop into actual tears thank you and good Timezone.
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burnin0akleaves · 1 year
Note
maddie for character impression (get well soon king)
Going to power through this ilness just because you told me to now, I can't not do it. (Thank you)
First impression: Again, hazy memories, but pretty sure I was annoyed by her at first. I didn't hate her, but the scene with Jenny? Yeaah I was with Will on that one.
I warmed up to her pretty quickly after that, and seeing that she was actually deeply insecure and felt the need to prove herself won me over. I put myself in her shoes the whole book, and Maddie ended up being braver than I would be every single time. I remember being EXTREMELY stressed at the part where Will has to stay back and Maddie has to get the kids to safety alone, because I just thought about how horrifying it would be to have that much responsibility on my shoulders and to be forced to make decisions on my own without Will's guidance.
Proud to say that it has been quite a few years since then and that I would be able to handle a situation like that better now, but middle grade Howls was extremely impressed by Maddie.
Impression now: I love her! Maddie has so much depth to her and I think she is a great character. Has her mother's spirit, her father's wiseness and her uncle's willpower. Like, think about it for a second, the girl is literally surrounded by all the legends of Araluen. You bet your ass she will grow up to have the best parts of all of them.
Favourite Moment: Already talked about the part where she has to take charge in book twelve and how that had a big effect on me, but I also need to talk about the scene where she is forced to kill for the first time. I love that she didn't cower away in fear or kill in cold blood. She was faced with an extremely scary situation for a child, a man breaking into your room in the middle of the night to threaten you into silence, but she managed to control her fear and defend herself. The scene where Will comforts her and tells her how brave she was is extremely sweet, I'm glad that she got to be comforted like that.
Also the entirety of the Red Fox Clan duology? Her taking complete control of the situation in Escape From Falaise and dueling that one knight alone? VERY badass. I really hope her story continues.
Idea for a story: I want Araluen, and maybe the whole world, to face another crisis. Maybe something supernatural and world-ending. It starts from when Maddie is a ranger and at some point in the story she has to take charge of the entire kingdom as queen as well. She has her family to support her obviously, but none of them are in their prime anymore. At the end, she has to face the enemy herself, alone. I have bits and pieces of scenes floating around in my brain for this but nowhere near a full story, so thats all you're getting.
Unpopular opinion: People that hate Maddie but love Horace and Cassandra are complete hypocrites. She has great character development, and is a genuinely lovable character. Her growth isn't any less realistic than her parents, some people just hate TRR and pick it apart to find every single thing to complain about.
Favorite relationship: Will and Maddie. I love watching the royal family be together as well, but the uncle/niece relationship has a special place in my heart.
And when it comes to romantic stuff, I'm glad Maddie doesn't have a love interest forced into the plotline. Leaves room for queer headcanons and just... lets the girl be herself. You don't need to be in a relationship with someone. I do wish she got to make more friends, but I also understand why she really wouldn't get to. Being the princess and Will Treaty's apprentice at the same time doesn't really let you relax and socialise. I'm glad she has Ingrid at least, and I hope we'll get to see more of her at some point.
Favorite headcanon: Cassandra doesn't get to use her sling anymore as queen, but she is too sentimental to throw it away. When it becomes obvious that she won't get to use it again, she gives it to Maddie. The sling is very old and Maddie would never replace the weapon she is used to, let alone use her mother's sling that went through so much, but she holds on to it.
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Text
"Home of the Lost: Chapter 26"
"You okay?"
Paul looked up. Marko stood in front of him, a bag in his hand.
"Yeah. Just thinking."
"About?"
"The terror of raising an eternal teenager."
Marko chuckled as he dropped the bag, sitting down next to Paul. "There's something else."
"Just thinking, you know. It's weird how we don't notice how much we change."
"You worried about that?"
Paul shrugged. "I don't know."
Marko couldn't help but smile - it had been a long time since he had seen him like this, and it reminded him of the early days. "You always thought too much anyway."
"You decided to fall for a philosophy student," Paul chuckled, poking him in his side.
"Damn right, I did. Had to know I'd change someone who would not be some stuck-up aristocratic douche."
"Like my brother."
"What a disappointment he was," Marko grinned, remembering the insecure yet arrogant older brother of Paul. "I still don't get how he managed to become mayor."
"Money, probably. Dear old dad always gave him everything."
"Good thing I met you."
"If being drunk and throwing up on you is a good way to meet someone, then yeah, hooray!"
Marko turned to look at Paul, his smile turning more serious. "I heard bits and pieces. Just know that I loved you back then, and I love you now."
"No chick flick moments, man," Paul whined with a grin, telling Marko otherwise.
"Come on," Marko stood up after kissing Paul. "We better make use of the fact that we're finally alone here."
"Alan!" Edgar called from the back of the store, several papers in his hand.
"What?!"
"Where are the order forms?"
"What the hell do you need those for?" Alan walked into sight. "We just ordered the latest comics and merchandise."
"If we have more unique items, we can get more high paying customers."
Alan was quiet for a moment. Edgar was right, he knew that, but he also knew that this wasn't the exact true motive.
"It is because of what that girl said, isn't it?"
"So? If there are girls willing to buy comics -"
"Just admit that you like her." Alan looked at his brother, who slowly but surely turned lobster red.
"I do not."
"Sure. Anyways, here." He handed him one form. "Don't go over 250 dollars. We can't pay more than that."
Edgar grinned. "Great!"
This was good. If he could buy more older comics, maybe the girl would return. There was something about her. It both annoyed and intrigued him, which made her somewhat unforgettable. Whenever his thoughts weren't occupied with school or work, they wandered off to her. He just couldn't quite pinpoint why he had to think of her.
Charles Emerson was a kind, funny, and generous man. At least, that's how Jo got to know him. That evening, when his daughter Lucy had called him in desperation, without a second thought, he'd invited her to come back home. He had told her that this house would always be a home to her and that she and her two sons were welcome to stay for however long they needed to.
Jo also knew that even though Charles opened his house to his family, he regretted the loss of solitude and privacy. Jo had tried to reassure him, saying that they could meet at her place as well, but still - both of them realised it wouldn't be the same.
That didn't mean that Charles wasn't excited to have his daughter and grandsons with him. He hadn't seen Michael since the boy had been fifteen, and Sam had been no older than eleven - or almost twelve as he had insisted. Now thought, with both boys being five years older, he was hoping they'd grown into something he could only describe as fine young men. Lucy had tried her best, no doubt, but their father, well, Charles was glad his daughter got rid of him.
The phone rang, and as he answered it, Lucy spoke.
"Dad? Hi! We're halfway through, I think it will be about six more hours before we're in Santa Carla. Is there something we can bring home for you?"
Charles chuckled, shaking his head. "No, thanks Luce. As long as you and the kids make it home safe before dark."
Lucy couldn't help but grin. "Before dark? Wasn't that what I used to tell you when I was a teenager?"
"Exactly. That's why you need to hear it now!"
Lucy smiled as she hung up the phone, returning to her car. "Mike, are you sure you don't want to drive a little bit?"
"No, mom, you don't need to worry about me. Besides, you can't drive the car for hours after each other and if we want to make it to grandpa's before dark," Mike grinned, having heard the conversation, "then I'll need to drive the car as well, so there's no use in me getting my bike."
"Alright, alright," Lucy went to sit in the passenger seat.
"What-"
"You wanted to drive, didn't you?" she smiled. As she called Sam, busy with walking Nannook, she couldn't help but feel a little lighter than before. The divorce had been hard, and the only reason she got away with as little as she did was because she simply couldn't afford the lawyers to fight her now ex-husband in court. He had taken everything. The house, the money - she had to beg to even be allowed to get her and her boys' clothes and stuff, which is something she'd promised herself she would never do again. She would not ever become a victim of a mindless, heartless, cold, and uncaring man again. No, if - and that's a big if - she would ever think of dating someone again, it would have to be someone who was kind, trustworthy and above all, loving towards her and her kids. Of course, she could find someone like that, she realised as she looked at the view passing by, but would she want to? So soon after everything?
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marianaxrojas · 2 years
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   ✦ SOFIA CARSON, FEMALE, SHE/HER ✦ MARIANA ROJAS the TWENTY NINEyear old has been in Hidehill for HER ENTIRE LIFE  and was a STRANGER to Ronnie Nilsson, the most recent shadow of Hidehill. Whispers on the streets are that the SINGER/DANCER who lives in HARLOW ESTATES are said to be PASSIONATE and INSECURE but I guess we’ll find out for ourselves.
trigger warnings: death
𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 …
            𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄:  mariana rojas             𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄(𝐒):  mari,             𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄(𝐒):  mari             𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄:  november 3rd, 1993             𝐀𝐆𝐄:  29 years old             𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑:  female             𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒:  she/her             𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:  heteromantic             𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:  heterosexual             𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐍:  none
𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘…
born towards the end of january to two eighteen year olds, mariana was put up for adoption not long after. with her birth parents being too young, they did what was best for their daughter. they put her up for adoption to give her a better life. being adopted by the rojas family, her life with them growing up was better. with her adopted parents in the entertainment business, her mom a professional dancer and her dad an actor, her life wasn't normal at all. with being the daughter of Adrien and Natalia Rojas, from a young age, she was in the spot light
at the age of twelve, her parents enrolled her into dance and singing lessons. singing though came a lot easier, with dance coming in second.  when she wasn't busy with her dance and singing lessons, she was busy with school. busy keeping her grades up and making sure she didn't fall behind.   during her summers, when she was out of school, her time was filled with the lessons her parents signed her up for. though that all came to an end when she was fifteen years old. by then, she was good at not only singing, but dancing as well.
the following year, not long after her sixteenth birthday, mariana and her parents had gotten into a car accident. her mother had was killed from it. while mariana and her father both survived. though their stay in the hospital lasted for a few weeks. with how bad the accident was, she was lucky enough to get away with a badly sprained ankle, and a lot of cuts and bruises on her.  the news of her moms death though, after finding out a few hours later hurt her the most. for the days following, mariana shut herself off of everyone. from her friends and family, she didn't want to talk or see them as she tried to come to terms that her mom was gone.
the months that followed, mariana focused on getting better, slowly but surely.  finally getting back to normal after some time, mariana made sure she got back to dancing and singing. two of her passions.  after graduating high school,  she headed off to New Haven, Connecticut to attend Yale University. there, she double majored in theatre and performance studies and music.  during her first year at yale, she posted a video on youtube of a song she wrote. Una Flor. within a matter of hours, the song gained a decent amount of views. as well as the attention of a few record producers.  eventually, she agreed to sign with a record producer based near her hometown of hidehill. but only on the condition that she could continue on with her studies.
with the agreement all set,  a year later, after working on a few songs, she released her first official song called love is the name. the song ended up being a huge success. which surprised her.  dealing with the instant fame while attending her college, it was hard. but over time she managed to deal with it. completing her studies three years later, she returned home. but now for long. not when she got the news she would be doing her first concert tour. to say she was nervous was an understatement.  the tour had become a success though. which helped ease any nervousness she did have. after it was finished, she returned home to hidehill.  it was not long after that she ended up buying a house in harlow estates.
OTHER FACTS…
- she has four adopted siblings. one sister and three brothers. her sister is two years younger than her, while her three brothers are older than her. the eldest being thirty six years old.
- she loves coffee. she can't go a day without having at least one or two cups of coffee during the day. anyone who knows her knows this.
- she has four animals total. three rescue dogs, a siberian husky named rocky, an American Pit Bull Terrier named daisy and corgi named lola. she also has an american shorthair cat named lucky.
-  her taste in food varies. with pizzas, she loves putting hot sauce on them.  anything to make it more spicy. spicy foods in general are a favorite of hers.
- even though she won't admit it, the whole shadow thing does freak her out. the fact that someone is going around terrorizing people scares her more than anything.
WANTED CONNECTIONS…  
first love: this was her first serious relationship she had. they were each others first everything.  they dated for a while. when she was in the car accident, he was the one to help her through it even though she didn't want anyone around. four years in total they were together. at some point, she thought they would stay together even after high school and get married, but the two broke up before headingg off to college. mariana is still very much in love with him. her song una flor is about him though that's something she never admitted.
her person: male or female, they would have known each other for a while. probably since they were kids. they're practically joined at the hip as some people would say. through everything, they've been there for each other. even when mariana was out on tour, if her firned needed someone, she would have flown them to what ever city she was in. think meredith/cristina or meredith/alex from greys anatomy.
childhood best friends: growing up in hidehill, mariana most likely had a good about of childhood best friends. people she was close with and who are still friends with her not because of her fame, but because of her and their friendship that goes way back.
exes: mariana has dated around. especially during her early years of college, and when she was just getting into the music industry.
family friends: friends she had  met through her parents. they could have known each other since they were kids or met a few years ago.
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moonrose-mortem · 2 years
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I don't usually post stuff like this, but I feel it's necessary to support something that connects to "The Owl House."
The show is under enough pressure between season 3 almost getting completely cancelled and Disney treating Dana Terrace and her crew like absolute crap when they have created a masterpiece of a cartoon that I would have loved to see as a kid, and I have a niece who LOVES it. She came out as demi/lesbian to her parents, my husband and me (her cool aunt, a title I feel honored to be.) I told her about "The Owl House" because she likes witchy stuff, weird cartoons and is into nerdy things as well. She binged the first season and it became something we could bond/talk over. Let me tell you, when Lumity became canon in season 2 she was so happy! Why? Because she felt SEEN.
I loved Lumity when it happened as well because it was history making and the cutest ship I've seen in a while.
But they weren't the characters I was interested in most. The character that really pulled me into TOH fandom was Willow Park.
Why? Because I saw myself in her the most.
Chubby. Glasses. Loved plants, nature and animals. Had a sweet and shy personality but was insecure and held a little darkness inside from wanting to be angry but couldn't. Didn't have many friends and was dropped by her childhood friend (s) because she was different. Was bullied and had her own name used as a tool for her tormentors to pick on her to the point where she lost so much confidence in herself.
That was exactly me growing up! But like Willow I eventually found my people who loved me for who I was and I'm so protective and caring for them. Watching this character confront her bullies, showing she's capable as a witch, happier, thriving and going after she wants is something I wish I could have done more as a kid. Seeing this show as a nerdy, plant loving, plus size girl I feel seen in this fictional character.
I can also see why many love her because she wasn't forced to have a romantic interest like so many female protagonists that Disney and other cartoons that liked to force this down our throats. Seeing this trend decline in recent years is very refreshing indeed.
But when it comes to TOH, I noticed Dana likes to surprise us with the unexpected.
So about the recent episode with Hunter...the division and arguments coming from this ship war surprised me.
Twelve year old me had so many crushes on fictional characters from anime, movies, and not going to lie I had a thing for Zuko from Avatar: The Last Airbender. But deep down, I was disappointed because I never saw any girl that looked like me or Willow get shipped with any character, male or female. So much media likes to show the cute, nerdy, fat friend as just a side character/friend of the hero and nothing more. No love interest. No positive messages of "guys can like chubby girls too." Nothing.
So when this episode dropped and all of the hype over Winter/Huntlow came out, I was happy. Happy because of how far things have come and knowing other girls who like Willow for the same reasons I do are happy too.
Yet, here you guys are making up excuses as to why they can't happen. Yes, he's a little older than her. Yes, he's got to go through some serious mental health work. Yes, he's got issues. Yes, he might be a freaking clone doll Grimwalker and he might go through an existential crisis.
But the point is, Willow is a good influence on him and he has shared parallels to her that she understands. Plus she should be allowed have anyone she wants if she goes for it! And if you look at the symbolism between Flapjack being a cardinal, a bird of change and finding your own path, and Willow's name being a tree of healing, hope, safety and FREEDOM, then the signs are pretty clear of the two biggest influences on his redemption arc.
I can see them as a best friends first then romance later. At the same time, I am a hopeless romantic and think they'd be cute together.
But if it is Dana's will to make them endgame canon ship you guys should start praising and less hating. Let people ship them peacefully, please.
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gucciwins · 3 years
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Do I Know You?
of all the places to be recognized you did not think cherry pit at a harry styles concert would be one of them - especially by the man himself.
Word Count: 7014
A/N: hello friends! i had been wanting to write famous mc for a while and then i finally got the idea. in this story, harry is the rockstar we know and love. y/n belmonte is a famous actress known for her roles in the the queen's gambit and the hit drama new amsterdam. i gave her a last name and her father is mexican-american and her mother is english. truly something sweet filled with fluff. if you got any questions i'll be happy to answer them
you'll have to let me know if you wish to see more of them <3
please do let me know what you thought of the story and please reblog <3333
love on tour series //
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St. Paul, Minnesota
Being in Minnesota was fun. You were visiting your best friend taking a well-deserved break. You had just finished filming a Netflix show that had lots of buzz around yet did not have a release date and had attended the Emmys. As award season had come to a close, you decided visiting your favorite person would be an excellent way to celebrate. Especially since free days were becoming rarer and rarer. You were thankful for the role in The Queen's Gambit and its direction for your career, but it was always lovely to enjoy time with loved ones.
Naomi had let you stay in her guest bedroom, letting you know to stay for as long as you wish, but you wouldn't last longer than five days. You didn't like intruding on Naomi and Sarai, Naomi's partner. They both assured you that it was no problem, but you begged to differ.
On your second day, Sarai surprised you with enchiladas just like your grandma had made. Their family was from Acapulco, Mexico, just like your grandparents. Naomi always liked to say she was meant to bring you all together, and she had.
That wasn't the only surprise you had come to learn she had for you as she said to dress nice and be ready at eight. You were even more shocked to hear that Sarahi would not be joining you. They informed you they had to meet with their cohort to go over a project they were handed.
You had a limited selection of clothes from your suitcase and clothes you had left over the years. After getting out your favorite pieces, you dressed in black flares that made your ass look amazing. You paired it with a silk cami, a mint color that matched your nails. You paired it with your favorite pair of red leather boots that were always packed first in your suitcase. They're a few years old, but you treasured them too much to say goodbye. They were the only classy shoes you packed because you swore you could pair them with anything, and thus far, you have.
You debated the most about doing your makeup, not being able to make up your mind before deciding to go with mascara and red lipstick. Looking in the mirror, you felt hot and knew you looked great. Being in the public eye, you learned to spot all your insecurities before the world could and owned them. The scar running up your thigh was always an attention grabber until the story of how you got it was exposed, and then no one seemed to care about a bicycle accident that happened at the age of twelve.
Grabbing your wallet and phone, you headed out to the living room where Naomi was sitting on her couch scrolling through on her phone, Sarai having left already.
"You don't mind carrying my wallet, do you?" You asked.
"Course not, give it here."
Naomi, nosy as always, opens up the wallet and takes a look inside as you grab some water before you have to head out. She's quiet, so you peek over and see her standing with the wallet still in hand.
"I'm in your wallet." She states, showing you a photo of last December of her standing arms raised as she stood in the center of the ice rink.
"You have been since that time you gave me a photo of you that was taken during team pictures for Tennis in ninth grade."
Naomi nods, remembering how she had given one to you and her parents then hiding them away. "Yeah, I don't know. Nice to know you keep me close."
"Always do, only one person I call my best friend."
Naomi shakes her body out, pocketing the wallet into her pink cross-body bag. "Alright, enough being a sap. We've got to go."
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In the car, Namoi decides against music and instead decides to interrogate you on your next project. For the first time in a long time, you didn't have anything definitive lined up. You filmed and auditioned like crazy the past few years, so your manager, Viola, was giving you a much-needed break. She loved to remind you to relax and enjoy it all, and thanks to her, you had. Viola has always had your best interest in mind since she met you at age seventeen.
"Viola said I'm a free bird for a few weeks, months she had said, but I'll surely have an interview or two pop up soon."
"Does that mean you'll be staying with me?"
You laugh, "Nice try, but someone is busy with her dissertation, and I'd be a distraction."
"A pretty one at least."
"Gee, thanks." You reply sarcastically.
"What will you do?"
You shrug, "Life has a funny way of working things out, so I'm not worried."
Naomi looks over at you, confused, "I've never seen you so mellow."
"It is because life is good, and I'm here with you. Being with you reminds me of home."
"New York?" You don't answer, so she keeps going, "Los Angeles, Miami, New Orleans?"
"London."
Naomi frowns, "London?"
"I had not stayed for longer than a week but those four months. It felt like it could be home, or well, I could make it home."
"Do you think it has to do with your parents?"
You look over at Naomi, who's focused on the road, making a right turn into a busy street filled with traffic. "Yeah, it does."
Neither of you continues the conversation as you finally see the destination in front of you.
The Xcel Energy Center.
Naomi had brought you to an arena where hundreds of cars and many people walked towards what you assumed was the entrance. There were two entries to the parking, and she picked the one that said VIP.
She rolls down her window and leans in to look at the name tag on the security. "Hi, Jason." She greets confidently.
"Miss you a VIP member?"
"No, but I can be." The man frowns. "I got royalty in the car." She gestures her head to you. God. Of course, she's playing the famous card.
You lean closer, "Hello Jason, good evening."
The man's eyes widened, and that's when you get a good look; he couldn't be older than 25. "Shit! Sorry--you're! Oh my goodness! I love you. You're my hall pass."
Naomi is biting back a laugh, and you smack her thigh to silence her. "Very flattering, Jason. Thank you. See, I wasn't aware I was coming to the show, or I would have called ahead to make an arrangement; if it's not possible, you can direct us to the available parking lot. I believe it's close to show time."
"No worries, Miss Belmonte. You follow straight ahead of the cones, and Connor will meet you at an entrance. Do you happen to know where you'll be sitting?"
You look at Naomi, waiting for her to answer. "Cherry pit."
"Very well. We'll have bracelets ready for you and someone to direct you in." Jason offers kindly.
"Thank you so much, sorry for the bother. You've been an angel." The young man blushes but doesn't look away. "Could I offer you a photo?" You suggest, genuinely thankful for his help.
His smile falters, "I would love that, but I'm on the job, Miss Belmonte."
You smile, admiring the man and following their protocols. You think for a minute before reaching into the glove box where you know Sarai keeps extra purple index cards for some reason. There is a pen right beside it. You write a thank you, folding it in half and handing it to him.
"Thank you, Jason. I'll never forget your generosity."
"Same here, my niece looks up to you. She thinks you're a real-life princess."
"Do send her my love then."
Jason nods, stepping back, and Naomi continues to a parking lot where few cars are parked.
"You amaze me." Naomi states. You laugh, not sure how to respond. "You handled that with some much grace even after I abused your fame card."
"As long as you don't do it again," You chastise her as you've done many times before.
"We'll see," she chuckles, "come on, Miss Hall Pass."
You roll your eyes, slip out of the car and see a man waving at you. You both offer your wrists where he puts on the wristbands after he checks Naomi's tickets. He nods, asking you to follow him in. There's loud chatter, and you can hear "Olivia" being played through the arena. Conner walks you down the steps to the entrance, where he bids you a good time.
"I can't believe you surprised me with a Harry Styles show."
Naomi grins, throwing her arm over your shoulder walking you towards a side of a stage that looks empty. "I know, I'm the best."
"Yeah, everyone looks amazing. There are so many boas." You marvel at how there are people dressed as if they were about to walk the runway.
"Do you think he'll show tits tonight?" Naomi giggles, thinking back to your reaction to her sending you a photo of his Las Vegas outfit in which he was dressed in a pink fringe vest showing off his toned body.
"A girl can dream," you joke.
"I'll never understand how you've never run into him again." Naomi shakes her head, "The one person who should be your friend and isn't."
"Wow, thanks. That's totally why I became famous."
"It's why I stuck around being your friend." She quips back.
You scoff, "jerk."
"Kidding."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Let's bet you get recognized tonight?"
You nod because you're confident it won't be happening, "Sure, what do you want?"
"Christmas in London."
"New Year in Italy."
"Damn, that's good. I hope I lose."
You laugh, causing a few heads to turn to look at you, and you duck, not liking eyes on you. "Ah, Miss Introvert makes her appearance."
"Leave me alone, you stinker."
Naomi laughs at you, pulling you in for a hug so you can hide properly, "Think on the bright side, no one cares about you because compared to Harry Styles, you're like a nobody all over again."
"That felt like a backhanded compliment."
She shrugs, "Take it as you please."
There are loud cheers suddenly filling the arena, causing you both to look over at the stage when it's only a box in the middle of the runway being taken under the stage.
Naomi stares at it as you untangle yourself from her hold. "You've heard the box theories."
"Only a hundred times because you don't shut up about it."
"Come on, I think it's cool. I want to see how he gets in and if he's uncomfortable or if someone's spun him around a few times. Like I can't imagine it to be comfortable."
"Alright, for Christmas, I'll get you one of those boxes, and we'll roll you around."
"Would you really?"
"Christ, you're a weird one."
You settle down swaying and singing along to Bohemian Rhapsody.
"When did you even score these tickets?"
"Two years ago," she answered nonchalantly.
You gasp, "what?"
"Yeah, remember how he postponed it because he wanted to film two movies well then."
"Wow, I love you."
"I know."
The lights go out, and the cheers are deafening. A poem starts being read, and you can see the band coming out setting up. The female band members are in orange, and the men are in blue/green shade. You let out a loud cheer letting it get lost with the thousands of other people's yells.
Here's to a night to remember.
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It has truly blown away how amazing Harry sounds. You had been dying to hear his new album live since it came out in 2019. Each song has a different intro making it feel like a whole new song. The band matches his energy, and you can tell how much he thrives on it.
Harry constantly blows kisses out into the crowd, smiles at posters, and responds to a few with an exaggerated reaction. The intro to Sunflower Vol. 6 with Niji had to be your favorite. You could see how Harry and the crowd loved the beat as the cheers only got louder.
You had not stopped dancing and singing along since he came out. You could hear how horse Naomi's voice had become due to shouting out the lyrics.
Harry had not been wrong when he had said you might be getting lots of ass tonight, but you weren't complaining; it wasn't a bad view. He was so effortlessly himself on the stage that you felt his presence no matter where you stood.
This had to be one if not the best concert you have ever attended.
After Sunflower, Harry takes a moment to take in the crowd; he spots a poster reading, "Should I text him?" He proceeds to go on a long tangent about double texting, thumbs upping means they replied last, and finishing off by saying, "trash, trash, trash." That erupts lots of cheers.
No, you did not think you would ever hear Harry Styles be giving relationship advice to a sold-out arena, but damn, does this man continue to surprise you.
The concert continues, Cherry making you swoon; it is one of your favorites on the album because you were a sucker for sad songs. Lights Up easily becomes your favorite song he performs. He sings the song with his whole heart, and the crowd does the same. Singing "do you know who you are" in an arena of people knowing you're doing what you love with amazing people in your life, you happily sing back. You really understand what people mean when they say Harry makes you feel part of something bigger, makes you remember the importance of embracing who you are one hundred percent.
It's after Lights Up that he begins walking around closer to your side. He smiles at your section before doing a double-take; he grabs more of the cord and steps closer, causing the fans around you to start cheering louder as he's showered with bouquets of flowers.
Harry has stopped walking, and you feel as if he was staring right back at you. You're four rows back from the barricade but now he has the eyes of a hawk not missing anything, just like he spotted the Green Bay Packers fan earlier in the show.
"Do I know you?" Harry speaks into the microphone.
You foolishly turn around before looking back at him before pointing to yourself. He laughs. "Yes, you."
"Don't think so." You shout back, hoping he can hear you.
That wasn't the truth, but it didn't feel like a lie. See, many moons ago, when Harry was still in One Direction, and you were booking Indie films and minor roles for prominent directors, you both happened to be attending the same event a mutual friend invited you to attend. Harry approached you and chatted with you for a long time, sharing a drink of apple cider until he was whisked away.
You didn't know he tried to find you again later in the night or that he asked everyone who attended if they had seen you or knew who you were, but no one seemed to recognize her name. It wasn't until his sister, Gemma, mentioned watching a show named "New Amsterdam'' did he find you again. You were a semi-regular from London a surgeon and were so positively received by the audience that it seemed you were coming back as a regular. Then after finally finding out your name, he fell down the rabbit hole of your IMDB, and well ever since 2018, it's like he always had an out for you.
Harry watched your newest horror thriller film Ready or Not and Love and Monsters, where you had a small role but captured his attention every time you were on the screen. He had watched countless interviews and learned how you had worked with Dylan O'Brien before in a film named First Time, sharing how Dylan gave you lots of advice and managed to be a friend through your growing career. Maybe he was biased, but he thought you were an outstanding actress, each role you made your own. Acting alongside Tom Hanks and being the person to stand out. Don't even get him started in your role in The Queen's Gambit; he could discuss it all day and night.
Well, Harry can proudly be called your fanboy.
Harry had that party in 2015 flash through his mind, and he was hoping you remembered him as well. He'd known he would recognize you in any crowd; he just didn't expect it to be in Minnesota.
He steps closer and narrows his eyes. "May 2015."
You gasp, and it stuns his fans. Not that he knows you, but that he stated a date that they could maybe pinpoint. You doubted it as you don't remember documenting the night or making conversation with anyone other than Harry.
"Yeah," you smile, nodding. "Thought you wouldn't remember."
"I remember a lot in the big head of mine." He jokes. You laugh. "Any requests?" He's smiling at you, waiting to see what you'd say.
You think about it, "Medicine!"
He smirks. "Did you say canyon moon?" The crowd cheers for medicine, and a few yell, asking for to be so lonely, "well, we will be doing Canyon Moon. This is for you." Harry sends you a wink before strutting away to get ready.
"Did Harry Styles recognize you?" Naomi asks, not believing that happened.
"Yes."
"From six years ago."
"Yes."
"Holy shit. What is your life?!"
You laugh because that did not feel real. Naomi spins you around as you happily dance and sing along to a song now dedicated to you. You're trying your best to ignore the glances and the few cameras being pointed at you. You see the recognition in many girls around you, and with no security, you hope they stay respectful.
"Think you might have to get away," Naomi grimaces.
You sigh, still dancing along to the song, "yeah."
"Damn,"
"I'll just slip out and wait in the car. You finish the show." You tell her, not wanting to take this experience away from her.
Naomi pouts, "You're too good of a person. We'll leave before the encore. Got like two songs left."
You nod, knowing she has a point, enjoy the last bit and worry leaving in a while everyone is distracted cheering for an encore they knew was coming.
After finishing crying to Fine Line, swaying with your best friend to a song that brings you so much comfort, you make your way towards the exit where you entered, knowing it'd be the easiest way out. Naomi links your hands together and pulls you forward, staying close to the barricade when a hand sticks out, landing on your elbow stopping you. You startle bumping into Naomi, not recognizing the man. Naomi is ready to rip him a new one when he lifts a pass up. "Love on Tour: Manager."
You let out a sigh, instantly relaxing. "I'm Jeff." He introduces himself.
"I'm Y/N, and this is Naomi."
Jeff smiles, "I know who you are. Think most people do. The cameras put you on the screens."
"Oh," you feel your face flush.
"If you need to leave, we can get you out backstage, but you can also watch from here with me if you'd like to. I've got fancy one-of-a-kind lanyards."
You look at Naomi but know the choice is in your hands, and well, you're hesitating. "I've got it on good authority that someone wants to meet you." Jeff offers.
You nod, letting him hand over a pass, slipping it over your head going over to a side entrance where the security enables you to pass through. You thank him before greeting Jeff in a handshake, and he seems taken back at the gesture before shaking your hand.
"Can I just say I'm a fan of your work? You were incredible in Queen's Gambit. My wife adores the show and you." Jeff tells you as you stand next to him.
You grin at him. "Thank you, means a lot to hear that. Send her my best, will you? If you want, we can send her a message or sign something." You offer.
"You're kind, thank you."
Naomi finally speaks up, still on edge, "Listen, Jeff, don't go taking advantage of her."
"Course not. I understand how much H values his privacy. I imagine it's the same for you."
You nod, "She means well; she's very protective. We've been friends since the sixth grade."
"I understand friendship," He squeezes your arm in assurance. "I feel like I've known Harry all my life. I'd never try to jeopardize your privacy. But you are at a concert for one of the most in-demand artists of the time."
You giggle, "That I am."
You turn back on stage as Harry starts singing Sign of the Times, and the note changes make you feel as if you're hearing it for the time. You sing along, loving that Jeff sings as well. You had not expected to be here but wouldn't change this moment for anything.
Harry introduces his band, Elin, Ny Oh, Niji, Pauli, Mitch, and Sarah. Jeff laughed as he heard you scream the loudest for Sarah out of the other members. You know he makes a mental note of that. Harry begins having the audience riff off with him. He's walking around going from side to side, seeing who can sing it louder. Harry goes back to where you were initially standing to seek you out but doesn't find you. He asks for the house lights and nothing. He frowns, and you catch that on the screens before he moves down, finding a fan dressed as a banana.
He begins singing "she's dressed as a banana" in a beat that fits so well with what the band is playing. That truly is impressive. The crowd singing it with him just as loudly. You're sure that catchy tune will be stuck in your head for a long time.
"He was looking for you," Jeff yells over the intro to the song.
"Was not." You state.
"He was. I know him well. Also, you were the only one he interacted with within the area."
You hum, "Never thought he'd spot me in a crowd."
"Are you kidding? He'd find you in the crowd of time square. He's got a crush on you." Jeff lets slip.
"You don't say," you smirk.
"Please don't tell him I told you."
"Secret is safe with me."
You dance singing back the lyrics when Jeff looks over at you, "Well,"
"Well, what?" Not amused, he interrupted your singing to watermelon sugar.
"You fancy him?"
"Honestly, he's a dream. We clicked all those years ago, so maybe it's still there."
Jeff nods, liking your response, beginning to dance when you see someone else going crazy for his moves, and you start cheering them on. You come to learn his name is Tommy, and he's also part of Harry's team. After kiwi, Jeff ushered you backstage, taking you into a communal area where everyone meets after to celebrate with a drink.
And now you wait.
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The band comes in full of chatter; Pauli has a bi pride flag resting on his shoulders. Sarah has her hand resting around Mitch's waist. Elin and Ny Oh were laughing with each other as they all stepped in Jeff at your side.
You wave hello to everyone, holding your breath as you feel all of their eyes on you. Turning to the side to look at Jeff, he does nothing but laugh, "Friends, this is Y/N Belmonte and her friend Naomi. Y/N and Naomi, this is Sarah Jones' band." You all let out a laugh, instantly thankful for Jeff's joke to break the ice.
"A pleasure to meet you all. You were incredible out there." You grin at them, hoping someone will say something.
"Thank you," Mitch replies, and it instantly relaxes you.
"Someone's favorite is the drummer," Jeff teases as they wait for Harry to make his way inside as he had to remove his mic pack and also took a moment to himself after.
You feel your face flush, "my grandma liked playing the drums, and I was rubbish. I'm great on piano, but I just have so much respect for the drums. Not that you all aren't amazing, it's just personal." You defend.
"No worries, I respect that," Niji replies, offering a fist pump.
"So are we okay to take photos with you? We're big fans, and I think Queen's Gambit is always playing in our tour bus." Elin tells you.
"Oh, and the thriller about hide and seek," Pauli informs you.
"Thank you, of course, we can."
After getting photos with everyone, make sure to get them on your phone as well, knowing you'd have to share on your close friends' list about how great the concert was and how lucky you were to meet the band. By the time Harry comes in, everyone is chatting as if we've known each other for months. You learn how funny and intelligent Pauli and Niji are. Ny Oh tells you about life on tour. Elin shares how she's having the best time and offers to show you some tunes on the guitar.
"Jeff-she's gone again. I couldn't even-" he stops in his tracks as he sees you standing with Mitch and Sarah, their phone in hand as they were showing you photos of their baby. "How are you here?"
"Oh, my best friend Naomi bought us tickets. Very nice of her. She said something about Ticketmaster sucking." You laugh thinking back to her story about how she got online early and even had Sarai helping her.
"No backstage. I looked for you in the crowd. I didn't see you."
Jeff gives you an I told you, so look from the side, and you bite back a smile.
"Oh, that's what you were looking for. Thought you lost a contact lens." Naomi teases.
"Jeff was kind enough to offer us to exit backstage if we needed a way out and also said it was okay if we stayed." You smile at Harry's confused but elated face. "Said you might want to meet. Got a good manager in your hands."
Harry nods, his voice soft, "can I hug you?"
You grin and nod, in two strides, he's in front of you, bringing you wrapping his arms around you, and you do the same, resting them on his waist. He's holding you tight as if he won't be letting go any time soon.
He squeezes you tightly two more times before letting you go but leaving a hand resting on your back. "You should introduce yourself with your full name. I only had your name to go by."
You frown, "I used my first name with Jeff, and he knew not to sound conceited or anything."
"No, six years ago. You left, and I never found you that night. I only had your name to go by."
Your eyes widen in surprise, "Well, shit. I didn't know that."
"Yeah, I didn't know who to ask."
You're aware everyone is tuned in with your conversation with Harry but don't mind. "Could have asked Harry Lambert. He invited me to the event."
"Who?" Harry asks, not sure if he heard you correctly.
"Your stylist, Harry Lambert. He helped style me a lot when I was starting out. He said to call him if I ever needed him, and it was thanks to him, I found Gabbi. She's amazing and the reason I dress so well." You gesture down to your outfit.
"Holy shit, six degrees of separation."
"Truly."
"I mean, I asked everyone at that event about you, but Lambert had left early. Why did you leave?"
You shrugged. "Didn't know anyone other than Lambert, and we had a conversation, but you literally bounced from person to person, so I assumed you wouldn't circle back and left."
Harry nods, "Sounds like past me; I'm better at staying in one place now."
"Noted."
"Right, well, fancy a drink again?"
"Sure-'
"Ginger ale or sparkling water?"
You don't even ask why he remembers, "Water is fine."
"Alright, you had your moment. I'd like an introduction." Naomi walks over after he hands you your drink.
You chuckle, "Right. Naomi, meet Harry Styles. Harry, meet my best friend, Naomi Hart."
"Pleasure, Harry. I'm a big fan. That was a hell of a performance." She offers her hand to him, and he happily shakes it back.
"Thank you! It means so much. Have you been to a show before?"
Naomi nods eagerly. "Yes, we were in London both nights as a graduation gift for me and my partner and your final show in LA."
"Ah," he smirks, "big fans then."
"Oh yeah, want to know something about Y/N. She always cries to fine line."
You elbow her in her side, "shut up before I make him blocklist you."
Harry frowns, "Wouldn't dare."
"Fine, I'll block you from all my events," you falsely threaten.
"Quite rude of you to say. We wouldn't be here if it weren't for me."
"Actually for me- I could have spent my days off at home with-"
Naomi interrupts, "Please, you don't know what's home?"
You're aware everyone is still watching and frown, "hey- that's not nice."
"Sorry, babe, but you are a little lost."
You can't help but nod because it's true.
"Thank you for bringing her today; I'm a big fan." Harry addresses you both.
"Are you?" You're genuinely surprised.
"Of course. You're amazing. You're acting breathtaking."
"Well, I'm excited to see your film as well. Florence is a good friend, and she speaks highly of you."
"Thank you. Next year if you can believe it."
Release dates may be far, but they come quickly; you've learned, "you nervous about that?"
He nods, "just a bit; it will be different from Dunkirk."
"Sure as a male lead. I'd assume so."
"Do you sing?" Mitch asks, changing the conversation, "sorry, it's just that you said you play the piano."
"You do?" Harry's eyes widened in amazement.
"I can carry a tune," you offer, looking at Mitch and grin at him.
"Carry a tune, my ass." Naomi scoffs. "She's on the soundtrack of Coco. Singing in Spanish and English, and she composed a lot for things like The Greatest Showman and even a new Marvel film." She tells them proudly.
"Alright, stop talking before we have to make them sign NDA's," you joke.
"We'd be glad to," Harry replies.
"You're fine. Most of the info is available online anyways."
"Hmmm…why don't you perform?" Pauli asks.
"I like acting; it's where I'm meant to be. Learning new roles and also most of my directors let me learn from them. Always give me constant feedback. Think the end goal is one day directing my own kind of movies or shows that allow people to feel something, something to connect to."
"That's remarkable," Jeff tells you.
"Yeah, I'm proud of what I've done. Sure, I might not have lots of awards, but I love what I do, and I can proudly stand behind each work that has come out."
Everyone is staring at you, and you grow nervous. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No," Harry assures you.
Sarah answers for everyone, "it's nice to see you sticking to your values."
"Well, of course, I know it's harder to address when in the public eye, but I try my best to be honest because sure they might not know me, but they are a part of me just as I am of them."
"That's really insightful. Thank you. I—I'm going to think about that more." Harry tells you, giving your hip a comforting squeeze.
You nod. Everyone quickly falls into chatter after a moment, and you're relieved, glad the attention has shifted well not everyone one's as you feel Harry's on you as you take a drink of the water. Naomi is chatting with Pauli, who's showing Naomi their outfit doing a small spin.
"This must be nice to experience each night; it feels like family."
Harry agrees, "They are. Everyone is important. Especially since we spend so many days on the road together away from those we love."
You both grow quiet, enjoying the laughter and chatter that everyone fills in the room.
"When Naomi said you didn't have a home, is that true?"
You sigh. "You don't have to answer." He assures you.
"Know anywhere more private we can chat?"
Harry nods, taking your hand in his leading you down hallway after hallway before arriving at the stairs leading to a luxury suite. You can see workers taking down the set; there are so many people out there.
"Wow, I've never seen it being taken down."
"Yeah. Build it each day only to take it down and do it again the following day."
"The 360 stage is great. Honestly felt your presence the whole time."
"Just what I like to hear." He laughs.
Harry takes a seat, and you follow, sitting right next to him, knowing he's waiting for you. You take a moment to gather your thoughts before deciding that, yes, you do want to share this with him.
"I lost my parents when I was eight. A drunk driver hit them when they were on their way to pick me up from school. I lived in England all my life, specifically Brighton. My father was born in the US, and his parents still lived in California. They moved from Mexico with a Visa, and they had a hard upbringing here, but they fought to give my dad the best they could. He fell in love and followed my mother across the world. I knew what death meant when they passed, but I didn't understand that I wouldn't see them anymore. That morning having breakfast together would be the last memory I'd ever have with them." You stop and take a breath when you feel Harry take your hand in his.
"So at eight, I was uprooted from my life and moved to California to be raised by my grandparents. They were mourning the loss of a son and a daughter-in-law, but they told me that I was the miracle that helped them keep moving forward. They taught me Spanish, and I picked up Italian from my neighbor. I lost them in 2016. My grandma had a heart condition, and after she passed away, two weeks later, my grandpa passed away."
You're no longer fighting back your tears; it's been a while since you've shared the story. Honestly, you can't remember the last time you spoke about this, but it feels good. Not as heavy.
"My abuelo said he was sorry to leave me alone but assured me I was in good hands and that I surrounded myself with great people that would look out for me. Grown, the limited series I did for HBO, won me an Emmy, and it was based partially around my life and how I had to grow up alone building a found family as I went through life. It's very little, but it's my story to the world on my own terms if you know me. The screenwriter and director are two who have worked with me closely since I came into this crazy world and honored a bit of me in the best way they could."
Harry has tears running down his face, and you reach your free hand up to wipe them away, hating that you made him sad. "After losing them, I wasn't sure what to do. Naomi was in Minnesota, and well after they passed, I moved in with her. I had the house, but it wasn't the same, and as much as I love Naomi, she's got someone else she calls home. I finished filming in London a week before the Emmys, and it's the safest I've felt. I just don't have many people to call family in London."
Harry reaches a hand to rest on your cheek, and you let out a deep sigh letting yourself relax in his hold. "You got me. I know we just met or well reunited, but let me in, and I promise I'll never leave your side. Let me help you see London as home again.
You nod, letting his words sink in, "I'm a wanderer who's looking for a place to call home."
"Song lyrics?"
"No, it's a saying I always said to Naomi."
He hums, "Might just have to write a song together."
"Not anytime soon."
"I'm patient." He promises. "Thank you for sharing that with me. Clearly, it wasn't easy, but I'm proud of how far you've come and can't wait to continue to see you grow."
"Thank you for listening. It's been a while since I've told anyone. I'm sorry if it was too much."
He shakes his head, "no apologies, love."
You nod; Harry leans back in the seat, letting his hand drop that was resting on your face on your lap. You're quick to catch it before he can remove it playing with his rings. You fall into a comfortable conversation talking about what stood out the most from the show, and you tell him about favorite places to eat in Minnesota. He shares that he loves that you accidentally matched. He makes you take a photo on his phone so that he can send it off to his sister to make her jealous. He takes a lot, an excuse to hold you close, not that you mind.
His phone rings with a phone call he is quick to ignore, then three chimes follow. He sighs, "I need to get on the road."
"Right," you don't move to get up, and neither does Harry.
"Alright, if we exchange numbers?"
"Be disappointed if we don't. I want those photos we took." You remind him.
You swap phones inputting your name as Belmonte 2015 💛
He smirks as he sees your name, and you laugh at how simple his contact name is: H 🕺
"Thank you for sharing with me."
"Well, next time, you owe me a life story." You declare.
He sounds smug, "next time?"
"Sure, told you my life story. Means you're part of my life forever. And I liked spending time with you."
"Yeah, I did too," he goes silent. "Felt like a date."
"Sneaky, Styles."
"What?"
"I deserve to be asked out properly, don't you think?"
Harry nods, "well, of course."
"Good, so," you urge him on.
"Will you let me take you on a date?" His voice wavering, not sure if you'd accept even though you told him to ask you.
You nod. "Yeah, six years late, but yes."
"You liked me too?" He asks, bewildered.
You grin, "I laughed at your jokes, batted my eyes at you. I flirted and think you were too busy being Mr. Popular to notice."
"Maybe, but god, you made me nervous and relaxed at the same time. I've never felt that way again until tonight when I saw you in the crowd."
"Well, I can't wait to see where life takes us."
As you make your way down the now empty hallways, you saunter, trying to extend your time together as much as possible. He asks about your favorite song to karaoke to, you ask about his go-to meal on the road. Going back and forth with questions. Not stopping until you're back in the room you were in earlier, except now only three people sit there, Naomi, Jeff, and Tommy.
"Did you fuck?" Naomi asks bluntly.
"Fuck Omie, and you ask why I don't take others anywhere."
"To be fair, I'm a lot to handle."
"No, we didn't," Harry answers, not wanting her to ask again.
You see her sitting next to more than a few items that have bunnies and Harry's face on them. Naomi follows your gaze, her smile widening. "I went shopping." She gloats.
"I see they found a way to get you to behave."
"Well, of course. Lots are for Sarai and me mostly; you can claim something you like as yours. We'll count this as your payment for staying at my apartment for free."
You laugh, not at all upset that she used your card; God knows there is so much money on there and if she wanted to use it by all means.
"Why am I not surprised?"
"You did leave it with me, and I know to use it for emergencies. Clearly, it was one."
"Jeff, you made our new friend pay?" Harry asks.
"She insisted."
"I did," Naomi agrees. "This one would have thrown a fit if not." Gesturing to you with a point of thumb.
"Geez, don't need to call me out, but she's right. You're all a hard-working team, not the only paychecks it'll be going to."
Harry knows he can't argue with that.
Naomi brings the topic back to them, "So anything interesting happen up there you'd like to share?"
Harry happily replies, "we will be going on a date."
"That's great, but we got to go," Jeff responds, leaving no room for argument.
Harry nods, not hiding his sadness as he brings you in for a hug. Your arms go around his waist; it truly felt like a reunion of a few months and not years.
He was not ready to say goodbye so soon when he got an idea.
"Say what you doing Friday?"
You pull away to look up at him, a bit shocked and a bit nervous about what he might ask you. "Not sure; I got a free schedule for some time."
Harry smirks; he brings a hand up, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. "You like Chicago?"
And well… that's a story for another time.
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thank you for reading, any kind of feedback is welcomed and appreciated.
would you like to read more on harry and y/n? let me know
i love you
chicago part two
999 notes · View notes
jimilter · 3 years
Text
riptide (m) | k.sj. | (1/2)
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one | two
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pairing:  kim seokjin x reader
rating:  m (18+)
genre:  angst | smut | established relationship!au
summary:  It takes a foolishly trivial incident to unravel how astonishingly little you and Seokjin actually understand each other. It has you questioning your relationship, and him? Well, he’s questioning his whole life.
warnings:  swearing + implied alcohol consumption + realistic relationship problems + mentions of insecurities, jealousy, complicated mental dispositions + emotional distress + sexual situations (unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talking, a bit of manhandling, fingering) + mentions of masturbation + a ton of miscommunication (refer to the summary smh)
word count: 12.3 k
note:  it’s FINALLY done, y’all! came up to be a monster of 25k words, so i decided to split it into two. i’ll drop the other part next week. this took a lot more time, energy and re-writing than i’d thought it would. i began writing this in january - it’s been five excruciating months! 😩 i really hope y'all will like this one~ 🥺💜
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💟 YOUTH – 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
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— masterlist
— feedback is always appreciated!
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riptide (n) – a dangerous area of strongly moving water in the sea, where two or more currents meet.
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Lady, running down to the riptide - Taken away to the dark side - I wanna be your left hand man.
The turn of events has been so fucking hilariously impossible that Seokjin has literally been rendered speechless. Which doesn't happen often, mind you. What can he do, he is just extremely witty—he always has something to say about everything, usually and preferably with impeccable comic timing. Especially when it comes to you. 
This, though. This completely baffling scenario, right in front of him, has him gaping like a goldfish with no words to say.
"Final call, Jin. Gawk at me for five more seconds and I walk out of here," you threaten, an elegant arm poised at your waist and gorgeously plump lips pressed into a thin line. "Say something?"
And Seokjin still cannot formulate a single word, because what the actual fuck? How can you even think that he could ever— 
"Alright." You catwalk out of his bedroom, leaving him blinking into space.
He jumps the next second, leaping after you. "Honey! How would—what—I can never—why do I even have to say—will you wait? You’re being so ridiculous, right now, I hope you know that!"
If he wasn't in such a fix, Seokjin would physically cringe at his speech. It was better when he was just gaping.
“Honey! Stop being so overdramatic, you’ve known me and you’ve known Jimin! For years! Stop acting like you seriously don’t know what happened, here!”
You don't stop, though, gliding down the stairs and hopping over the haphazardly tossed items in the living room as you exit out of the house.
And then you're gone. You're really gone, over something so fucking ridiculous, that Seokjin still has no words to say.
All he knows is that his girlfriend of five years has finally gone crazy enough to jump to conclusions of such high magnitude of stupidity.
And, that Park Jimin is a dead man.
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It all begins on an unsuspecting Sunday morning, when the entire house is smelling of weed, stale booze and some worse fluids. 
Last night, Seokjin vacated his own bedroom for the boys to smoke up in at Jimin's request, because that is the only well ventilated room of the house. He spent the night in Yoongi's room with earplugs in, dead to all the chaos in the house—as he often does on party nights—to catch up on his beauty sleep. He cannot afford any unbecoming dark circles or, God forbid, breakouts.
And no, that's not a comedic moment, he really does need his face looking perfect this week for reasons outside of personal gratification too, because he has a shoot on Tuesday. He especially took a leave from his part-time job at the Mexican restaurant downtown where his girlfriend, you, work full-time, on a Tuesday—saying goodbye to all the amazing tips always forwarded to the cooks on Taco Tuesday—for this. Nothing would mess up his face.
Not to mention that one very important audition for a very gigantic project he's been looking forward to. They're yet to announce the date, but it would be this very month. He hasn't really told you much about it, planning a huge surprise for later when—if, actually, but he prefers to be unrealistically optimistic in every situation possible—he bags the coveted position, at the end. He hasn't really decided upon much, other than a long drive and a picnic date to one of those grasslands on the city's outskirts that you love so much. Oh, and bringing up the prospect of moving in together in an apartment with just the two of you. 
He's pretty certain you must not remember him raving about the opportunity, because it has been months since he did that. He then proceeded to be covert about all the mini auditions and trainings he underwent to prepare for the final audition, and he is confident you have not connected the dots.
But that is all a discussion for later — he doesn't even know when he would be auditioning. 
The crux of the whole matter is that he needs to keep looking as flawless as he can until that audition happens.
So he has slept like a baby, last night, while the rest of his friends have partied, including two out of three of his housemates—Hoseok and Jimin—along with Taehyung and Taehyung's girl. Namjoon had foregone attendance in lieu of the Halloween party, next weekend, that he knows he would definitely be forced to attend because Hoseok is hosting. Yoongi, his third and final housemate, escaped the house altogether to spend a night of music-making with Jungkook in his dorm.
So, in the morning, when Seokjin is moving around his kitchen that seems to have been hit by a tornado, checking the fridge and mentally praying that his baggie of smoothie ingredients is still in good shape—a scream echoes around the house.
Seokjin freezes. That sounded a lot like…you.
Immediately alert, he runs out of the kitchen and into the drawing room. Hoseok is hanging upside down on one of the couches, something that looks a lot like undigested white sauce pasta puddles on the ground, inches from his new, fiery red hair. Seokjin grimaces.
"Kim Seokjin!" your screech tears the silence.
Seokjin twists on his heels, looking up in the direction of his bedroom. It really is you. And you're in his bedroom—the room he did not occupy last night.
God only knows what kind of a scene you have walked in on. He hopes these idiots didn’t have an orgy up there, although he really can’t put it past them.
Not waiting another second, Seokjin rushes up the stairs and pushes through the doors to his bedroom. His mouth falls open on an audible gasp.
You stand next to his bed, dressed up elegantly in a navy dress that ends above your knees—which makes him wonder if you are here for an impromptu breakfast date—with one hand clutching his duvet that has uncovered what looks like…
…a head of long, dirty blonde hair.
Who the fuck?
In his bed?
"Hey, Honey!" Seokjin's voice is a squeak. "You… you here for a date?" he manages out of a suddenly parched throat.
You roll your eyes. "Uh huh. A fact you would've known if you looked at the texts I sent you last night." Your eyes are narrow at him. "This explains why you didn't, though. Busy night, Jin?" 
He balks at your words, at a loss. How could you even think it was him, when you know all about Park Jimin and his escapades?! 
Seokjin's blood boils. Fucking Jimin. There is going to be blood on Seokjin’s hands. 
In the midst of it, the blonde head shifts. 
Soon after, as you two watch, a pair of brown eyes with smudged makeup emerge from inside Seokjin's bed—and the audacity?! There’s makeup all over his covers! Jimin will pay for the dry cleaning. The face is followed by a whole, tiny woman of five-something feet who is, thankfully, covered in a shirt.
Seokjin is almost not breathing when the blonde starts to give him a dreamy smile, his gaze switching between her and you. And it’s extremely stupid, because he hasn’t seen this woman before, ever, in his entire life. But he catches the way your arms fall to your sides and those elegant, dainty fingers of yours ball up into fists as you look at the blondie’s face.
Fortunately, the girl recognises him at last before her grin could turn fully dopey, and with a squeak, jumps out of the bed. “You’re not—um. Hi. Sorry, I, uh. I’ll get going.”
And surprisingly, she does exactly that in less than a minute, leaving you to stare down at Seokjin.
“You know, it’s really unbecoming for a girlfriend to keep finding girls in her boyfriend’s bed every other week and not be given an explanation, ever.” Your tone is teasing, but your eyes are taunting. “You shouldn’t always be so dismissive, you know? What if I start getting ideas? I don’t think you even remember how to make up with your girlfriend, at this point, because I never fight.”
That is when Seokjin starts gawking. And literally doesn’t stop until you’ve left the house.
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“I don’t get it,” Jackson says, stuffing cold noodles into his mouth and chewing on them without closing it. “Do you think he cheated on you, or do you not think he cheated on you?”
You look at your best friend with your face twisted up in disgust. You swear to God you would never have agreed to make friends with this guy on your mother’s insistence when the Wang family moved in next doors to you, had you known he’d turn out to be such a barbarian a decade later. Twelve-year-old Jackson had been such a decent kid—studious, elegant, well-mannered. What went wrong, along the way?
You exhale, shifting on your chair, very wary of any dried up fluids that you might come in contact with. “I know he did not cheat on me, Jax, the very notion is completely ridiculous.”
Jackson stops chewing and looks away from the WWE match playing on the TV to squint at you. “I’m…confused? Wait. What is the problem, then? What are you mad at him for?”
To be completely honest, you aren’t quite certain yourself.
But you do know that you don’t feel good. And that this feeling has been building up over a couple months, but you have only really acknowledged it head-on, today, in all five-something years of your relationship. Five years, seven months and eight days, to be exact, but that’s kinda besides the point.
You’ve had at least a few months’ worth of buildup that has gotten you to this point, you would admit. Especially after Seokjin had to cancel that visit to your hometown at the end of June, for your parents’ thirty-fifth wedding anniversary celebration because he had an important audition for a big-brand ad film. The cancellation was acceptable, but his offhand comment that, “thirty-five isn’t even that special, we’ll get them a huge gift for their fiftieth,” stayed with you longer than it should’ve. Things got okay-ish when you reminded yourself how Seokjin never really thought too hard about things he said, always being a humorous, unattached clown in every situation. But this morning's dismissal has pushed you over that edge. You straightaway goaded him, claiming he doesn’t remember how to make it up to you, and all you got in response was his shock and being called “ridiculous” and “overdramatic.” Fun.
You were most certainly joking, if a bit caustically, when you said what you did. He could have taken it as a joke and laughed it off. He could have taken it as a threat and comforted you, said it was Jimin that used his room, and maybe kissed you. You already knew what had happened when you saw the girl, anyway. But this was probably the third time this situation had happened, this month. 
Sure, you are understanding and really do know Jimin and what all he gets up to, but is that really supposed to be such a given? Asking your boyfriend to hug you close and kiss your forehead when you discover a girl in his bed just as you were about to cuddle the lump of sheets thinking it was him, is not too much to expect, is it?
Granted, Seokjin has never been extremely expressive, but still. It feels like he’s consciously trying to keep you at a distance, these past few months.
You don’t have the complete grasp of the storm of thoughts in your head yet, but you want to try and explain it to Jackson the best you can. 
“It was about respect, in a way, I guess,” you quietly mumble, and Jackson turns the TV off, now sitting cross legged on the couch to face your chair. He puts away his takeout container to frown at you, probably gleaning how serious this is for you. “He stood there, without saying a single word, expecting me to stop being mad. Almost willing me to stop being mad by making these big, incredulous eyes at me. Like it was that horrible of his girlfriend to demand for an explanation when she found a girl in his bedroom. It was just the two of us, I wasn’t making a scene in front of anybody. He just—ugh! He could’ve simply asked me to not be mad, said it was Jimin who spent the night in the room and maybe even laughed about it, or plotted Jimin’s murder—I would’ve joined in—but no. He acted like I was being stupid, told me not be ridiculous and dramatic. And that made me feel really stupid.”
Jackson winces. “And why do you think you were not being stupid?”
You exhale. “I wasn’t. Because I wasn’t actually accusing him of anything, and five years down the lane, he should know that now. I just wanted him to say it and not scold me when I tease-taunted him. He always expects me to know everything. And even though I always do, it gets tiring sometimes. These weird thoughts get to you — that maybe you’re being too understanding and he’s using that to his advantage, you know?” You look down at your lap, playing with your nails. “It’s just…um. I wanted him to coddle me, I guess. To treat this as something big because I was throwing a tantrum about it and, just, I don’t know—try to cajole me? Assuage me with his words, maybe? But he didn’t. Because he hasn’t done that in forever. Because I never need him to, because I always freaking understand everything!” A sob leaves you.
Jackson pats the place next to him. “C’mere, you dumdum, and stop hyperventilating,” he mumbles, hugging you to his side when you move to sit on the couch. “I don’t exactly understand how the relationship dynamics work, but from what you told me, I get that you wanted attention? Some loving? And instead you got disappointed looks because Jin expected you to be mature and rational about it — the way you always are — and that too with his fucking eyes and some low-key insult words? Is it something like that?”
Wow, Jackson really paraphrased all that amazingly. “Yes, actually. It’s exactly that.”
Jackson sighs. “Y’all have been together a long time, babe, so I guess it’s kind of a given that you’d get to a no-bullshit point. Which is why he hasn’t done that in forever, because y’all probably don’t need that kinda stuff between you anymore.”
“I get that, it’s how a relationship matures. But I’m pretty certain that it’s not supposed to make me feel like this,” you sound slightly muffled, having stuffed your face into Jackson’s hoodie-covered chest. “I feel—I feel like we got too comfortable and now he’s just started to take me for granted. And I also feel like I’m being too needy. Am I being needy and annoying? He’d hate me if I told him all this, won’t he? Half of the reason we’ve worked out so well is because we’re both career oriented and don’t waste time overthinking stupid shit.” You gasp. “Oh, no—would he leave me? He’s used to his girlfriend being mature, not needy—”
You are cut off when Jackson pulls you away by your shoulders, giving you a serious look. “Wait, wait, stop. What did you say? Not the needy part, you’re allowed to be needy once in all the damn three-sixty-five days y’all stay busy for. The…taking you for granted part. Pretty big of a thing to say, babe.”
You sigh. “We haven’t been on an actual date in months. Seokjin thinks there’s no need for that extra effort when we spend lunch breaks at work together, everyday. Outside of the restaurant, our meetings involve our entire flock of friends by default. It’s been three months since we slept together.” You sniff, hating having to impart such a private detail of your life. “So no, I don’t think it’s that big of a thing to say, at all.”
“Wow.” Jackson gives a slow whistle. “You’ve really been bottling up a lot in there, huh?”
You shrug. “I guess. It never made me feel underappreciated, though. Sure, I was irritated at some occasions and disappointed at others, but… Today I feel horrible, Jax.”
“Did you share anything with Byulyi?” he asks, referring to your flatmate and good friend since college.
You shake your head. “She already has a lot on her plate, right now. She got rejected by the photographer she wanted to intern with, so it’s back to freelancing for her.”
“Yeah, that must suck.” Jackson grimaces. Then he looks at you. “You need to take a break, hun. Sit back, today, and have tacos and beer with me. Reset your inner thoughts. Talk to Jin tomorrow. Although, I must say, it’s kinda depressing that you have to actually tell your boyfriend that he’s being a bad boyfriend. Isn’t that kind of shit supposed to be realized on your own?”
You purse your lips. “I guess, yeah. But…don’t say that he’s being a bad boyfriend, Jax. I don’t think he even realizes something is wrong.”
“And that…doesn’t make it worse?” At your raised eyebrows, he concedes with a roll of his eyes. “Fine, fine, in any case — maybe try to hint at it before you dive straight in with the kill? See if he reacts?”
“I don’t know, Jax. What if he doesn’t? He’s really not the best at taking hints and reading signs, or that kind of subtle stuff.”
“Then you can just say your shit. All I’m saying is, give him a chance to figure it out on his own. He’s probably really clueless why you reacted so big on something so small, this morning. If you drop hints, maybe he’ll feel it out.”
You nod, somewhat amazed at how sound Jackson’s advice seems. “How are you doing this, Jax? Being a love guru all of a sudden?”
Jackson scoffs. “I’m just tryna put myself in Seokjin’s shoes. If I was in the situation he’s in, this is what I’d like to happen — be given a window to figure out what’s wrong. You’ve been together a long time, hun. It really shouldn’t be that difficult for him.”
You shrug a shoulder. “I won’t be too sure about that. Why does it even matter if he can or cannot, though?”
Jackson seems to be mulling over something before he drops his chin to his chest. “Because you’re supposed to be partners, hun. If you can tell what’s up with him with a single glance, why can't he? Not being good at taking signs is not a good enough excuse. My gut says that he’d be able to, though. And that knowledge will make you feel infinitely better, trust me. It’ll be reassuring to learn that he really knows and understands you well, won’t it?”
You nod, slowly, but you still have your suspicions. Seokjin has just been the kind of guy whose emotional depth goes to a certain extent and then just — well, stops. There are things that he feels and realizes and sees, and there are things that he doesn’t. It isn’t even something he does, you believe. It’s just how he is. Certain feelings just don’t fall in his orbit. And you’ve never found there to be anything wrong with it when he’s been an immaculately amazing boyfriend and tended to every single one of your needs, always. Well, you have never actually needed emotional consoling, too, so you haven’t had the chance to audition him for that. You keep yourself too busy for all that unnecessary mental pressure. It comes as a surprise, but you have never cried on Seokjin’s shoulder in all these years of your togetherness. You’ve kept your head straight and chin up, even during your college exams. And so has Seokjin, because you’ve never seen him cry, either.
Lately, though, things have been kind of weird. The gradual transformation into your professional lives that began after college, has been drastic in the past few months. Seokjin has been constantly prioritizing his career over you, and you have been understanding about it because you agree with it — to an extent. Seokjin believes it all the way through, though, and you have known for a while that you would hit your limit at some point, and would try to bring him back to yourself. Today morning, it seems, you hit that limit. 
You felt dispensable. 
You hate this feeling.
To be very honest, you know you can get over this. You can give it some time, remind yourself of how much your Jin loves you, believe that he is eventually going to come back to you once he settles, and be understanding about the entire thing. 
You can — but you really don’t want to.
Something tells you that this feeling of getting too comfortable will only fester and take a worse form as time goes by. You can wait it out, sure, and hope you aren’t being a pushover as he works on building his career. You are building your career, too, after all, and at least some of it has been for each other. 
The thing is, your plans with Seokjin are long-term—marriage, kids, white-picket fence, and all that. And you believe that if you are sensing a problem now, you better deal with it now before it has the chance to change its form and affect you both when you are at a more responsible point in your life.
Mind made up, you look up at Jackson, immediately grimacing when he forwards a greasy hand to pick up a taco for you. “I don’t…I don’t like tacos. And may I exchange the beer for scotch?”
“You work at a Mexican restaurant, and you don’t like tacos,” Jackson deadpans.
“They mess up my skincare.”
“Oh, fuck off! Have a spinach smoothie with a drink, why don’t you?”
You purse your lips to hold back your laughter at his ire, your own worries forgotten in the moment as Jackson gets up to get you a glass of scotch and some healthier snacking alternative.
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“You're a dead man.”
Jimin stops dead in his tracks, arms frozen in the act of putting a t-shirt on. He blinks at Seokjin with big round eyes. “Hyung?” he mumbles, a picture of unblemished innocence, especially when he covers his toned torso with the oversized t-shirt he was in the process of getting into. “What—what’d I do?”
Someone who doesn’t know better would never believe that this young, innocent, frazzled haired fairy-boy could ever do any wrong. But Seokjin knows better. “You chaotic womanizer,” Seokjin nearly hisses, "you've gotta learn to clean after yourself. Honey found a girl in my bed. A girl—in my bed.”
Jimin had the decency to drop the innocent act. “Oh. Oh.”
Seokjin raises a brow. “Oh? That’s it?”
"Yeah, well, I clarified to her that it was a one time thing when we got to it. She was obviously expecting something more if she didn't leave when I told her to. Disappointed but not surprised." Jimin is frowning when he comes to sit down on the couch next to Seokjin. “Sorry you two had to see that. You clarified to Honey noona that I’d been the occupant of the room, though, right?” 
“I—what?” Seokjin scoffs. “Why would I even need to do that? She knows that already, obviously. She’s been seeing you for over five years, or have you forgotten?”
Jimin squints. “I mean…okay, fair point, I guess. Why’re you so worked up, then? Did something else happen, too? Where’s she, now?” Jimin looks around the living room as if looking for you.
Seokjin sighs. “Well, I couldn't really get much out before she was storming out of the damn house, altogether.”
Jimin blinks. “Storming out? Why? She… um, was she mad?"
Seokjin opens his mouth – and then shuts it. Was she mad, indeed. "I don't know. She looked kinda mad, yes. But maybe she was in a hurry?" 
"Why would she be mad? Did you try to call her? Text her? It's unlike her to react so big on something so small." Jimin bites down on his lip, looking lost in thought. 
Seokjin shakes his head. "She didn't pick up or text back."
“There’s definitely got to be an underlying reason for her being like this. Are you sure you guys haven’t been fighting, hyung?” 
Seokjin sighs. “Yes, Jimin, I’m absolutely certain that there hasn’t been any fighting of any sorts between the two of us before today.” He pauses. “Well, she was slightly irritated that I didn’t check her texts last night, but she knows I go to bed at eleven on days leading up to a shoot, so that one’s on her.”
Jimin looks genuinely concerned, which, in turn, makes Seokjin concerned. Jimin isn't the type to stress over stuff if he can help it. Sure, he cares about the boys and would always be down to do whatever he can for them, but his throwing-caution-to-the-wind way of life causes him to not take most of the things in life seriously.
You’ve been like an older sister to the boys ever since Seokjin started dating you and introduced you to them. They all have their ways of showing their respect and affection to you. Well, maybe not Jungkook because he can’t get over getting unnecessarily intimidated by Seokjin enough to relax around you. 
Jimin, especially, always seems to be affected by any tension in Seokjin’s relationship. Everyone can see how it upsets his entire life when you two are fighting, although he’d never admit to it. He doesn’t need to, because it’s pretty obvious when he becomes a cranky six-year-old who hates the world. 
Right now, he has a guilty frown on his face. "I should've seen to it that Suzette left before I went to shower," he mumbles as if talking to himself. “Shouldn’t have trusted her to leave just because I told her to.” He looks up at Seokjin with troubled eyes. "I'm sorry, hyung."
Seokjin can not believe himself when he shakes his head at Jimin's apology—this little demon causes so much chaos in all their lives that any apology coming from him should be justified and welcome. But this one isn't really on him. "It's not entirely your fault."
Jimin's demeanor changes a bit and the attitude Seokjin is used to witnessing makes an appearance. "Right? That's what I was thinking, too!" Jimin exclaims, some of the concern on his face lifting. "You have to talk to Honey noona and make things right, though, hyung. She’s the only womanly touch in our man cave. We’d all be barbarians without her.” Jimin looks very wary and kind of nervous.
“It’s funny you would crave her ‘womanly’ presence when she’s rushed off because of a woman that you brought home.” Seokjin scrunches his nose. "And I said it isn't entirely on you, because it is partially on you, Park Jimin. You borrowed my room to smoke up in. Why couldn't you take your Suzy back to your own room?"
"Suzette," Jimin corrects under his breath while shaking his head. "Yeah, I should've, but… your room just felt like a better choice during the high," he finishes in a mumble, dragging a hand down his face. “Hyung,” Jimin says with a pout on his lips, “the last time you two fought was two years ago, remember? On your birthday? When Hobi hyung dumped cake in noona’s hair and she had her first shoot for that bigshot magazine, the next day?”
Seokjin nods with a sigh. “She yelled at me for having stupid friends, and I yelled at her for caring more about the shoot that having a good time on my birthday. Yes, I remember.”
“And then she didn’t visit us for a whole week. Please don’t let that happen, again.” Jimin looks up at Seokjin with big, round eyes. “I can’t take that kind of unrest in my life."
Seokjin briefly wonders, if Jimin’s nightly conquests were to see this side of him, would they run in the opposite direction or be more attracted to him? Jimin definitely needs someone in his life that would bring out this side in him and stay to provide him the emotional comfort he requires when he gets like this. 
“I will try not to, Jiminie, but…” Seokjin shuts his eyes. “I seriously do not understand her actions from the morning,” he finishes in a mumble.
“Maybe she’s—maybe she’s worried about something else? Some other aspect of her life?” Jimin suggests with wide eyes. “And she’s just projecting onto you.”
“As sound as the explanation is, I am literally involved in ninety percent of the aspects in her life,” Seokjin says with a twist to his lips. “I would know if something was wrong anywhere.”
“That’s cocky of you to say,” Jimin snarkily comments with narrowed eyes. At Seokjin’s raised eyebrows, he amends, “That’s cocky of you to say, hyung-nim.”
Seokjin scoffs, but then he shrugs his shoulders. “It’s true. We work at the same restaurant, we’re scouted by the same agency. Even her agent is best friends with mine—she gossips a ton about how Honey passes up so many opportunities and pisses her agent off. Her friends are, well—” Seokjin stops short when it hits him. “Wang. Wang could know something!”
Jimin is looking at him skeptically when Seokjin meets the younger’s eyes. “I just think you should have a simple talk with noona first before digging around.”
That is sensible advice. Seokjin nods as he pulls his phone out.
“Just find out what’s been troubling her, hyung. You two are rational people, I’m sure you’ll work it out.” Jimin pauses to scratch the back of his head. “Just please don’t let this be another fight like that one?”
“Don’t worry,” Seokjin finally says with a pat on Jimin’s shoulder as he finishes sending off another text to you, “this one is nothing like that fight.”
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Turns out, this fight really is not like that one. Or any other fights Seokjin has ever had with you, in fact, because you’re giving him the silent treatment. 
You’ve never given him the silent treatment. 
Not even when you were students and didn’t have a load of time on your hands and used to waste precious sleep hours arguing over stupid shit that would probably resolve itself if you just slept on it and looked back at it with a fresh state of mind. Not even then did you forego talking.
Needless to say, Seokjin is distressed.
You drive to the house to pick him up at your usual time, the next morning, after not having responded to any of his calls or texts for the entire day. Seokjin is aghast as he gets into the car.
“Honey! What is going on? Why didn’t you—where have you been?”
You simply start the engine and take off. “Busy,” you murmur after a while.
Soekjin’s head is close to exploding. “Busy? Doing what?”
Your face remains stoic as you weave through the morning traffic. Seokjin looks at you. You’re dressed up in your waitressing outfit that consists of a shirt, skirt and tights, and being who you are, Seokjin can proudly say that you would stand out to be the most well dressed server in the field. You’re always pristine and tidy — no accidents happen to you at the job ever. No spillage of drinks or ketchups, no soiled hands being wiped down on your skirt. Nothing even ruins your manicure. 
It is something that Seokjin has always tried to keep up with, this cleanliness streak of yours. Because he has always assumed you would expect it out of him, too. You were attracted to the cover model version of him, after all. It is quite natural that you would have those kinds of expectations. And Seokjin has always been more than happy to deliver. It has become a part of him, in fact. He doesn't even chew with his mouth open even when he's among the boys, anymore.
It has, somewhat, made him practical and less emotional in life, too, but he doesn't really think of it as a bad thing. You have always been practical in life – the most ambitious girl he has ever met, someone that has always prioritized her career and goals over everything else. Seokjin has admired that since college, and has tried to show you that he has similar priorities even if he has had to work on thinking from his mind more than his heart.
But when you are already by his side, what does he even need his heart for, anymore, when it's already yours?
Now, looking at you sitting with a morose expression on your face as you give him the cold shoulder, Seokjin is just as much in love with you as he was when he first met you.
“Stuff,” you say with a shrug, after some extended silence. “You should know about that, right? Your schedule’s always busier than mine and I never complain.”
Your sharp words have him reeling. Whatever do you even mean by that? “Uhm, okay. Fair enough. But… did you really not have the time to respond to a single text?”
“It gets impossible sometimes, Jin, you know how it is.”
Seokjin frowns. He does know that, but he doesn’t feel okay. Something is very off with you. It is as if you’re saying something else and expecting him to discern a different meaning out of it. 
He doesn’t understand why, though. You, of all people, should know how terrible he is at decoding signs.
He sighs.
Seokjin, after his conversation with Jimin yesterday, had decided to ask you about the morning’s incident, head on, whenever you called him back. But you didn’t, and this is the first opportunity he’s had to talk to you, so he decides to bring it up, now. “What—what happened yesterday morning, babe? You got really mad and stormed off, and… I mean, you’ve got to know the girl had been Jimin’s companion for the night, right? You know him, how he is!”
You say nothing, hands tightening a bit on the steering wheel. Seokjin looks down at his own hands.
“You know I was only surprised at your words because we really do not have the time to be discussing silly things." He shuts his heart down when it tries to tell him to go soft. He knows it isn't something you would appreciate. "After five years, you know what I’m capable of right? You can never start getting ideas, because that would be insane and stupid. I’m already so supremely occupied as it is between two jobs, when would I even have the time to cheat, right?” he jokes, snorting to himself.
You’re still quiet, but your tongue comes out to moisten your lips. It is a nervous tick of yours which Seokjin recognizes very well, because with your skincare and scheduled regular application of lip balms, your lips never need the extra moisture.
He frowns. Was he too straightforward? But this is exactly how you communicate with him! “Hey, is everything okay, babe?”
You exhale, noisily. “Everything’s fine, Jin,” you finally say with a roll of your eyes. “And you’re right. I know you wouldn’t cheat. You don’t have the time to chat me up, how are you gonna pick someone new to impress, huh?” 
Your snort sounds lacking in humor, but Seokjin still gives a couple of stilted chuckles. Even so, he's still somewhat relieved. “Right. Just so we’re certain, that was a joke, right? I mean, it would be really ridiculous of you to think that I would—”
“Yes, Jin!” you cut him off with a deep frown. “If I wanted to talk to you about something, or accuse you, or confront you — I’d do that without you having to prompt me. Stop obsessing over yesterday and stop trying to explain yourself. I know it was Jimin’s doing.”
Seokjin feels immensely relaxed at the conviction with which you say the last sentence, certainly, but something is still off. “Why were you ignoring me, then?”
“I just didn’t have anything to say to you.” You stop at a red light, the last one before you reach the restaurant, and turn to look at Seokjin with really vacant eyes. He doesn’t like your stare one bit. “We’ve been together five years, babe. If neither of us have got anything of significance to say, I’d rather not text too much, if that’s okay with you? I’ve got a busy schedule to work around, too, you know?”
Seokjin wants to remind you that both of you had something of significance to say after you left his place in anger, but chooses to just roll with whatever you’re playing at. Maybe he's thinking too much. He nods. “Sounds alright to me.”
“Great,” you breathe out, somehow looking disappointed along with the preexisting sorrowful expression you had on your face.
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You really do not have a concrete explanation for why you acted the way you did with Seokjin, this morning. 
You were supposed to hint at being mad, not blatantly try to give him a taste of his own medicine. It could turn out to be a good thing if he eventually starts to miss you and reaches out, sure, but playing mind games never feels right to you. But when he started to joke about not having time to cheat, and something just turned off in you. He really could’ve seriously reassured you of his love. That would’ve been actually comforting. But no. He chose to joke about that, too. You didn’t feel like putting in all that energy anymore, after that.
Now, you sit down in the break room to check your phone during your ten minutes’ rest break. A text message floats at the top of your notifications.
Jax 🚽 Hey How’d it go?
With an exhale, you decide to call him back. Your fingers are too tired to type, and Jackson is sure to launch off into a rampage of texts the moment you tell him you’ve tried to turn the tables on Seokjin.
Seokjin is in the kitchen, his usual rest break not being for another hour, so you don’t have to worry about him walking in.
“Hey!” Jackson jovially greets you as soon as he picks the phone. “Did you get my text?”
“I did, yes,” you respond in a calm voice. “I’ve been looping milkshake mugs through my fingers since eight am, they needed some rest, so I decided to call.”
“Yeah, no, it’s cool. I was in a really boring class, anyway. So. How'd it go?"
You pull in your lip between your teeth. "I… I kinda ended up telling him I am a busy person too and that we shouldn’t text that much."
You hear silence instead of the outburst you'd expected. 
"Jax?"
"Are you actually gonna try to play a mind game with the dumbest human being you know on earth?" Jackson so very eloquently asks, his interpretation making you pinch the bridge of your nose. “He’s never even gonna figure it out!”
“I know how it sounds, okay?” You exhale. “I honestly don’t know what came over me.”
“Okay, alright, one thing at a time. So, no coddling?"
"Not a single soft word. Just more expectations of me understanding, and claiming that anything but that would be stupid of me. He acts like I'm supposed to know everything about him and everyone in his group of friends," you mutter in irritation. “As if those dumbasses know the first thing about themselves.”
You realize you're being a bit harsh, because his friends – basically your younger brothers, at this point – are a bunch of clueless idiots that love, adore and respect you. You shouldn't be badmouthing them, Seokjin’s growing callousness towards you isn't their doing. It's his own. 
You sigh. You really miss how things used to be when you were in college.
“Uh, I think we need to rewind a bit. What happened? What triggered this?”
It makes you smile a little when Jackson asks that. At least your best knows you’re not wholly clinically insane. “Well… I drove him to work. He…" your brows lower at the recollection, "he was the first to bring up yesterday morning. And yet again, he gave me the same you've got to know this and that crap, and then he tried to assure me in the dumbest possible way. Do you know what he said, Jax, do you?”
“Um, do I wanna know?”
“He said, and I quote, he doesn’t have the time to cheat. Jackson Wang, are you hearing this? He really straight up said he was too busy to cheat on me and so I should rest assured! Who says that?!”
“He must’ve meant it as a joke—”
“Yeah, he said that, too, and then very immaculately added that it’d be ridiculous of me to think otherwise. I have lost count of how many times the words ridiculous and stupid came up.”
“Goddammit.”
“Goddammit is right,” you mumble, morosely resting your head on your palm.
“What did he say, by the way? When you told him to text less?”
You give a wry chuckle. "Well, he said it sounded alright to him."
"Son of a bitch. You – you two are messed up, man. Messed up bad. Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't? You don't wanna text less because you're busy, you want him to dote on you because you miss him!" Jackson sounds beyond frustrated. "And it doesn't fucking sound alright to him! It sounds scary, it sounds confusing, it sounds like something you would never say to him!" He groans. "But none of you would say that shit to each other! You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess."
You reel from the onslaught of his harsh words, eyes widened and breath stuttering. Jackson isn't usually the type to pay so much attention to your relationship problems. But this time, you guess, he has garnered the depth of your unhappiness and thus has gotten so involved.
You realize he is right. Nothing good can come out of any turned tables, because Seokjin is, anyways, not even going to be able to work out the problem by himself. He may even go around talking to his friends about how you were being cold with him and not giving him any time, and still not realize he has been doing the same to you. He is thick like that. 
When his friends tell you tales of his compassion, you're unable to relate. You've never seen that side of him. He has probably grown up from that emotionally overwhelmed high school graduate who had made friends on a whim, the night of his graduation.
You certainly don't appreciate the emotional abstinence, though, and would very much rather prefer if he would open up a bit more. It would help you be more open with him, without fearing him calling you "stupid" in response.
But it’s still alright, you accept him with that thick brain of his, because he’s still only ever going to be the only one for you.
"How are you two gonna get around to having a proper chat if you just keep building more walls between you both?" Jackson asks after the long pause from your end, this time softer. “I’m sorry, babe, I was wrong. Giving him signs and making him realize shit won’t work. It was stupid of me to suggest that. It’s probably why you ended up being so caustic with him.
“No, no, it was all me, Jax. I could’ve chosen to not listen to you, but my ego got in the way, I guess. It’s not exactly easy, telling your boyfriend you’re feeling neglected. I mean, what if he laughs in my face and tells me I’m being paranoid? What if he thinks I have no regard for his career — or mine — because my priorities don’t align with his?” You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as your insecurities attack you.
“Hey, no. None of that is gonna happen if you really share with him what you’ve been feeling. No hints, no sarcasm, you’re gonna have to tell him point blank. Allow yourself to be raw. He’s the love of your life. You don’t have to protect yourself from him, right?”
You sigh. “Yeah, I know. You’re absolutely right, Jax. But I really have no idea how to even approach him, at this point. He’s either too busy with shoots, or with the guys, or some meeting. I cannot do this on call, because that always leads to misunderstandings.” You bite down on your lower lip, contemplating. “But I’ll figure something out.”
"Yes, you will. You always do. So, that’s good then. In the meanwhile, can you at least clean up this latest pile of poop? The talking less thingy is gonna make you two more distant, hun."
You scrunch your nose at his metaphor, but then your shoulders slump. "I don't know, Jackson. The way he so impassively agreed to it would make me sound really stupid if I take it back. And given what he keeps saying, he really doesn’t want me to sound stupid."
Jackson gives a snort at that. “Hah, funny. But listen. At the end of the day, he’s your boyfriend. You're gonna have to really decide if you're trying to get your boyfriend to give you more love, or if you're fighting a battle of egos and would like to bend him to you."
You bite your lip. “You make me sound manipulative.”
“You yourself confessed you let your ego come into this, one time. Don’t let that happen again. I’m trying to make you realize that complicated problems can have simple solutions, too. If only you’d communicate. Just talk to him soon, please, and make him understand why you’re hurt. Don’t carry on with this stupid cold war, okay? You gotta figure out exactly what you want, first.”
“You know what I want, Jax. You’re literally the only person that does, actually,” you remind him with a sigh.
“Oh, he is, isn’t he?”
You freeze, eyes bulging at the familiar voice. “I’ll… I’ll call you back,” you mumble before you disconnect the call and turn to look over your shoulder at Seokjin’s unreadable face. He stands with his arms crossed, still in his uniform but without the apron. “Jin… what—uh…”
“What am I doing here?” he scoffs, lips curling in distaste as he stares you down. “Well, I was going to the loo when I saw you sitting here. You looked upset, so I thought I’d check in on you on my way back.” He clicks his tongue, a dry chuckle tumbling out. “But apparently, you’ve got other people doing it for you, already.”
You wince, shutting your eyes. The one time he was finally going to give you some much needed attention — you sent a bad message his way. 
“So. Good to know there actually is someone who knows what you want. Would’ve been easier if it were me, though, given how I stand to be the one that is to deliver.” Seokjin sounds pissed off, and despite your irritation, you really want to make him understand.
You rub at your forehead. “Stop talking like that, Jin, it was just Jackson.”
“Wang?” He seems to seethe more, for some reason. “Of course, it’s fucking Wang!”
You frown, standing up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Seokjin looks at you incredulously. “You—do you not see how this looks? You have problems with me, Honey, but you choose to discuss them with him? Who’s he, your therapist?”
“He’s my best friend, Jin, someone I trust,” you grit out.
Seokjin seems to take it the wrong way, his agitated expressions slowly fading into a blank stare. “Oh. You trust him, as opposed to…” He trails off with a shrug, but the implication is as obvious as it can be.
“Jin—”
He raises a hand up, palm facing you as he looks away. “If you need some time apart, you should tell me in plain words. You know I’m not good at reading signs.”
Seokjin gives you a blank stare before turning around to leave the area. You stand rooted to your place, jaw dropped and eyes wide.
Some time apart? Has he lost his mind? 
He really is a huge freaking idiot who cannot pause to think what implications his words have. He seriously doesn’t recognize what all his “don’t be ridiculous/overdramatic/stupid” speeches do to you. You realize you should really make him understand. This has gone on for way too long.
But maybe you should take some time to yourself to cool off before that. You don’t want to say the wrong thing in your rage and complicate things further.
You sigh to yourself as you slump back into the bench you were sat on before.
You’d set out to tell your boyfriend you were feeling neglected, but you ended up making him think you want to be apart. How the heck did you get here?
You belatedly recall Jackson's words.
Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't?
You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess.
Your usually dumbheaded best friend was right on this one, you realize. You should’ve just talked like a normal human being instead of letting Seokjin’s words get to you and get pissy in retaliation.
You give a weary sigh. 
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Seokjin is grateful for the sudden busyness he’s got on his schedule, or he would explode from all the pent up frustration you have been causing him. 
He realized he wasn’t as upset with you as he was irritated, right after he walked away from you on Monday. He dropped you a text with some excuse of needing to stay back so that he wasn’t forced to ride with you in the car again, and later took the bus home. 
You had told Jackson Wang about what was troubling you, but not him. It made Seokjin feel upset, incompetent and more than a little insecure. Seokjin absolutely hates feeling insecure. Especially about you. You’re the singular most precious entity in his life — not that you are an entity, per se — and anything that seeks to threaten your position in his life or his position in yours, makes him lose his shit.
So it was understandable that he jumped to unfairly disproportionate magnitudes of conclusions that day. When he thought about it, later, he could easily tell that you are just mad at him and not actually contemplating leaving him, not even for a little while. Not that he’d just sit back and have you do that so easily.
Seokjin also hates overthinking, but that is all he did for the entirety of his Monday. 
Monday, though, was the last time he had time to overthink. Life got exponentially busier after that.
Immediately after his shoot on Tuesday, he received his agent’s call and was informed of his jam packed schedule for the remainder of the week. He was pulled into two separate magazine ad shoots on Wednesday, a perfume ad film drank up all of his Thursday, and today, a hair product ad film needed him to report to a sunrise point in the city at the ass-crack of dawn. The sky was still dark when he rode across the city with his agent at nearly four in the morning. 
And now, the afternoon sun beats down on his car as he drives back alone, his agent staying back to tend to some business. Stopping at a red light, he reaches for his spinach smoothie with one hand and his phone with the other. Ugh, he feels beyond tired.
Blearily, he looks down at the device around a yawn, fingers habitually reaching for your chat.
He took a week off from the restaurant and dropped you a text, late Tuesday evening, informing you of the same.
Honey✨❤👸 Hm, kay. Good luck x
Unsurprisingly, that stands to be your last message in his inbox. It’s been four days.
Sighing, he swipes a hand down his tired face and exits out of the message app. He went to bed at nine o’clock, last night, and owing to the way he has trained his body to sleep on command, he did manage to get a sleep of nearly six hours, too. But it was fitful and plagued with nightmares featuring you. 
Knowing he doesn't have to be at the restaurant until Monday and that his next gig isn’t until Wednesday, he cannot wait to get back home and drink his weight in alcohol before he sleeps his way through the weekend.
Just as he has moved past the intersection, his phone rings. 
Honey✨❤👸 calling...
He nearly spits the smoothie he just sipped at.
Coughing, he roughly jostles the plastic cup back in the holder and pulls up to a side of the road to pick up the call. “Hey,” he breathes into the phone, embarrassed at his desperation.
“Jin. Um, hi.” You sound awkward, as if you…have been compelled to call him due to some reason.
He is immediately worried. “Honey? Is everything okay, do you need something?”
He hates himself for being so concerned when you have been neglecting him for so many days – yet again, despite your spat at the restaurant – instead of finally talking to him about what’s bothering you, but he can’t help it. At the end of the day, you are the love of his life. 
“Yes, yes, I’m okay. It’s just, um. Can you pick me up from the restaurant?” you sound nervous.
But, Seokjin realizes, I was right. You do need something. He clears his throat. “Uh, okay, I guess,” he agrees before stopping short when he realizes the time. “Wait, it’s barely even two. Why are you leaving?” he asks, confused and a little concerned. You work your shift till five every day and till eight on weekends.
“Tomorrow is Halloween, Jin. We’re closing for the weekend, remember?”
Seokjin’s mouth falls open on a gasp. He really had forgotten. “Oh. Oh, okay. Yeah, I’ll be there in five, wait up.”
He swerves the car into the lane and takes off in the direction of the restaurant. 
He laughs at himself. He has been so caught up in work that he literally forgot Halloween. He wonders if this is what actual adulting is.
He is stopping before the restaurant within three minutes of your phone call, eyes immediately spotting your delicate figure standing on the sidewalk with your hands crossed against your chest.
You step down from the curb when you spot his car, and walk towards him. He watches your elegant legs as they beautifully fall in a straight line. Even when exiting your job as a waitress, you’re every bit the elegant model he met in college. Your hips sway tantalizingly, and something akin to longing swirls in his chest.
He composes himself quickly when you cross the car to get into the passenger’s seat. You awkwardly clear your throat as Seokjin busies himself with starting the vehicle, unsure if he should initiate conversation.
“Um, sorry about this. You were probably getting ready for shoot,” you finally say. “Byulyi dropped me off today. She wasn’t picking her phone up. I was trying to get a cab for half an hour. And the bus stop’s really far—”
“Hey, stop. It’s okay. You should’ve called me sooner.” Seokjin catches your apprehensive gaze on his oversized hoodie when he chances a glance at you. He sighs. “I was returning home from shoot, actually.”
He feels you stiffen, and he feels even more mentally drained at this. You used to be updated with his schedule to the tee — just short of having an actual copy of the calendar his agent carries on him. And the same goes for him with your schedule. This feels so wrong.
You are quiet for a while, your hands fidgeting in his peripheral vision.
“How—how was it?” you finally say, voice coming out like a croak.
Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “The usual. Blinding, tiring, exhaustive. I did okay, I guess.”
He feels your gaze snap up to drill holes into his skull. Your eyes are wide when he checks. “Okay? Since when do you do anything less than amazing at shoots, babe?”
He feels endeared at your casual use of a pet name. “I had to get up at three in the morning and go through a skincare routine. Then drive across the entire city to get to the location, because they wanted to capture actual sunrise. I was more tired than excited by the time they rolled cameras, so.” He shrugs. “Can’t really say I gave my best today.”
You nod at his admission. 
Seokjin almost jumps when his phone rings, again.
Jiminie calling...
He feels you shift in your seat. His mouth sours at the reminder of that Sue girl that started off this entire tussle between you and him. Fucking Jimin and his conquests. What happened to the shy and more than a little glum looking freshman he let into his living space, three years ago?
Your hand suddenly reaches forth to accept the call, putting it on loudspeaker, immediately. Seokjin gapes at you, momentarily looking away from the road. 
“Uh…hyung?” Jimin’s confused voice echoes in the car. 
Seokjin snaps out of his daze when you gesture towards the device. “Wh—Jimin, hi, what’s — what’s up?” he stumbles his way through a haphazard greeting.
“Hyung, I needed a favor. Are you on your way back from the shoot, right now?” Jimin asks, and Seokjin sees you freeze in your seat.
He feels a perverse sense of satisfaction. Yes, take that! Park Jmin knows of my schedule better than you do! This is what you get for ghosting me! “I was, yeah. What is it?”
“Oh, great! I kinda need your help, hyung. My tire gave out. Could you pick me up from the Kappa hall?”
Seokjin scowls. “Yah! Who am I, your butler? Hop on a damn bus!”
He notices you pursing your lips, no doubt finding his agitation humorous — you always do. 
“Hyu~ng,” Jimin whines. “I would take the bus, but the next one leaves in forty-five minutes and I need to be back within an hour!”
“What? Why?”
“I started on my sem project really late, hyung, and now I gotta spend any time I can spare at the rehearsal hall. I’m meeting a choreographer here in an hour. Please help me out!” Jimin is still whining, and maybe his reasoning is kind of alright, but—
Seokjin is tired to his bones. He literally cannot drive all the way down to your apartment and then drive back to the university campus to pick Jimin up.
He sighs, wearily. “Jimin… I’m really tired.” 
“And I’m really desperate, hyung! Dancing is tough! And the subject I've chosen, tougher. I haven't done ballet since first semester, Freshman year! I have to work my butt off and be done in under two months."
Seokjin exhales, feeling beyond exhausted. But then your finger is tapping on the screen and the call has been muted. Seokjin’s surprised eyes fly up to meet yours. You look conflicted, biting down on your lower lip as you shake your head with a frown.
“You should go home and rest, Jin. Leave the car with me, I’ll pick him up.”
“Hyung? Say something?”
Seokjin blinks. “You…”
You roll your eyes. “I’ll pick him up, yeah. He’ll drop me off and drive back to your place.”
“Hyung?! Did you put me on mute, or what? I can't hear a thing!”
“Tell him you’ll be there in ten!” you say, unmuting the call.
“I’m in the car, the network must have glitched. I’ll, uh… be there in ten?” Seokjin nervously finishes off, looking at you in question. You give him a nod, blinking slowly. “Wait up, okay?”
“Oh my God, thank you so much, hyung!” Jimin practically squeals through the phone. “I’ll be in the ice cream shop across the building. I love you, hyung-nim!”
Seokjin rolls his eyes and disconnects the call. He looks at you from the corner of his eyes as he takes a right, now moving in the direction of his apartment instead of yours. “You sure about this? Jimin, um, knows. About our…” Seokjin doesn’t want to call it the f-word, because he would like to believe that you two aren’t actually fighting. “You being upset, I mean,” he settles for the easier alternative. “He might ask questions.”
You give a small huff of wry laugh. “I can handle it, Seokjin. I’ve known Jimin for almost three years now.”
Seokjin doesn’t like it when you address him by his full name. And so, his lips remain pursed for the remainder of the ride, only parting to tell you to “drive safe and text me when you finally get home,” and then he walks inside his apartment without looking back.
He hears his car come to life and then speed away. He shuts his eyes, leaning against the kitchen counter. Gathering his emotional as well as physical bearings, he opens the refrigerator to rummage through some leftovers to munch on while he breaks out a six pack of Budweiser. 
Before his fried rice has even reheated, Seokjin groans at the sight of an all too jovial Hoseok entering the kitchen with a glint in his eyes. “No, Hobi. Not now.”
“What? I didn’t say a word, hyung!”
Seokjin winces, shutting his eyes just as the microwave beeps. “I don’t have enough energy to deal with your general aura, right now,” he mumbles, extracting the piping hot glass bowl. He leans down to open one of the compartments beneath the kitchen table to get to the beer that he’s been dreaming of for nearly an hour, now. “I’m dead on my feet and—woah!” Seokjin gasps, cutting himself off.
Hoseok hops into the kitchen, coming around to stand behind Seokjin. “So you found ’em,” he says around a chuckle.
“Found ’em? This is you?” Seokjin whips his head around to glare at Hoseok up from his crouch. “Why is my liquor closet resembling a liquor shop, Hobi? Why do we have all this—” he turns around to read the labels, cursing under his breath. “Why do we have,” he pauses to count, “five bottles of Tequila and eight bottles of Vodka?”
Hoseok frowns in concern. “Eight? There should be ten, hyung, check again.”
Seokjin actually gasps, this time. “What the hell, Jung Hoseok? Explain yourself before I start throwing hands!”
Hoseok smacks a palm against his forehead, taking Seokjin by surprise, yet again. “Tonight’s the Halloween party, hyung! Did you actually forget?”
Seokjin screws his eyes shut, letting his head roll back with a frustrated whine. “No~o, don’t tell me it's tonight. Halloween’s tomorrow, right? Why is the party tonight?”
“Yes, hyung, Halloween in tomorrow, which is why it would be stupid to hold the party when Halloween is ending.”
Seokjin finds the logic to be very severely flawed, but his energy is draining out fast and he cannot keep up with this quarrel. There’s no point, anyway. He’s known about this party for nearly a month. And Hoseok isn’t going to postpone a whole party just because Seokjin is tired.
“You look tired, hyung. You should rest. Recharge yourself before the party, okay? There’s plenty of time.” Hoseok pats Seokjin on the shoulder with a kind smile.
“I’m not even in the mood to party, Hobi,” Seokjin mutters, reaching behind all the glass bottles to extract his pack of cans. 
Hoseok scowls at Seokjin. “Because you’re upset about your fight, I realize that. All the more reason to party, hyung! Take your mind off it for some time, why don’t you? You don’t even have to dress up, come as yourself.”
“I’d rather just drink myself to sleep and not wake up for the next twenty four hours.”
Hoseok blocks his path as Seokjin moves to exit the kitchen. “Is Honey coming?”
Seokjin sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, Hobi. Did you invite her?”
“No, hyung, because you said you would.”
Seokjin clicks his tongue. He completely forgot. “Then she isn’t coming.”
Without listening to his protests, Seokjin trudges upstairs with his food and beer. He will be forced to come down for at least a couple shots, he is certain, so he better make as much of the time he has on his hands as he can.
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These days, it seems to be becoming a pattern for you to do things without really understanding why you do them. 
You nibble at your bottom lip as you recall how gaunt and pale Seokjin had looked when you sat in the car. You had been really self-centered as it is, not really keeping in touch with him for four days, and then reaching out when you needed help. You couldn’t bear to think, on top of everything, that he had driven you home despite his extreme exhaustion while you sat back selfishly and let him drive around the city to pick Jimin up when he looked like a ghost.
You shake your head at yourself as Jimin jogs down the road to enter the car, ten seconds after you texted him. 
His gaze is slightly hesitant when he meets your eyes, even though his smile is nothing but genuine. “Hello, noona. How come you are…” he trails off, gesturing around the two of you.
You start the car, shrugging one shoulder. “Seokjin came to pick me up. Now you’re gonna drop me off.”
Jimin gives you a huge smile, before his eyebrows suddenly lower. You look away, veering onto the road. “Wait. Were you in the car with him when I called?”
You chuckle. “Yes.”
“Oh,” Jimin mumbles around a small laugh.
You hum to yourself as you drive, distracting yourself from the thoughts that keep encircling your head. Seokjin is your boyfriend, no matter how mad you might be at him — you love him and care about him. Which is why you have tried to help him out. Not to mention, you felt slightly guilty, as it is, about calling him to pick you up. Why is your gesture of goodwill bothering you, then?
This is what you do for people you care about. Seokjin would do the same.
Your train of thoughts suddenly comes to a screeching halt.
Would he? Would he, really?
“You okay, noona?”
You jolt back from your thoughts, wide eyes turning to look at Jimin. “Wha—yes, yeah, I'm fine.”
He cocks an eyebrow at you. “You’re gripping the wheel really hard.”
You look at your tightly clenched fists, and immediately ease them. “Oh, uh. Sorry. A lot on my mind, I guess.”
“Understandably,” Jimin mutters, looking out of the side window when you turn to look at him.
You purse your lips and press down on the accelerator. 
A few beats of silence pass between you two before Jimin clears his throat. “Can I say something?” he asks you in a soft voice, looking nothing like the seductive persona he puts forth to get ladies falling in his bed. 
You exhale. “Sure.”
“You, um. You are not just hyung’s girlfriend, you know?” he says slowly.
You scoff. “Of course, I do. I am also the very best server my restaurant has ever seen and the best struggling model you’ll ever meet, on the side.”
Jimin snorts, before giggling with his eyes closed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
You do. But you do not want to face it. You want to be selfish, for once. You do absolutely know that you have been ignoring all the boys in your anger at Seokjin, but you absolutely do not wish to do anything about it. Not until you’ve resolved this tense air between you and Seokjin.
“You are also a part of our little family,” Jimin quietly finishes.
You suck your lips in at that. The word “family'' really gets to you. 
He’s right, isn’t he? 
All eight of you — well, nine, now, with the addition of Taehyung’s girlfriend — have been a family since the day you met these guys.
You smile as the memories start to filter in.
You had had a giant crush on Seokjin since the very first time you saw him in your Freshman year. Well, having a crush on the guy wasn’t that unheard of given how handsome he was. It also helped matters that he modelled for the cover page of your university’s journal within his first month in college. What surprised you was his reciprocated interest when you both finally got to know each other, thanks to Byulyi. Your current roommate was majoring in photography back then, and somehow roped the two of you into modelling for her portfolio. Seokjin asked you out during the sixth month of your Freshman year.
You recall being introduced to Yoongi in your Sophomore year, when he entered your college as a Music major. You found him laid back, calm but really sassy, and fun to be around. The three of you often hung out together, and you took immense pleasure in singling Seokjin out with the two of your sarcastic back and forths.
In your senior year, Hoseok transferred to your college as a Sophomore, and Taehyung and Jimin entered as Freshmen. 
Hoseok was literally the most lively person you’d ever met in your life. There wasn’t a single moment of boredom next to him. He was easily given the responsibility of planning all your outings and parties, henceforth — a position he still holds with full competence.
Taehyung was usually found to be lost in his head more often than not in his initial college days. He was confused about his major for two entire semesters. With inputs from the group, when he eventually picked Art, he eased into college life. After that, he came out to be one of the weirdest and unwittingly funny guys in the group. You still don’t get how he was the first amongst all the boys to find him a girl.
Jimin was a really quiet and reserved individual, at first. He very rarely interacted with you all, choosing to stay holed up in his dorm room, instead, that Taehyung had forced him to share with him. You suspected he was recovering from a recent heartbreak. It became evident when he started dating someone within a week of getting into college, only to confess it was a rebound when he got dumped. The whoring around that began after the whole debacle is yet to cease, though. Obviously. 
Hoseok comes from a really well-off family, and had brought along with him the four-bedroom apartment he currently resides in with Yoongi, Jimin and your boyfriend. His uncle gave it away to him, rent-free of course, and he proposed to share it with the rest of the guys. Seokjin and Yoongi were immediately on board, more than eager to leave the chaotic dorm life behind. Taehyung, contrarily, decided he wanted to get the whole college experience and refused to quit the dorms. Jimin, then, left the dorm he shared with Taehyung to move in with the elders.
You met Jungkook immediately after your graduation on the boy’s eighteenth birthday. He instantly struck you as a smart kid, really good at singing as well as art. Yoongi disclosed he wanted to be a music major in your college, and you tried to encourage Jungkook about it, but the guy could hardly even look at you. It was cute but also hilarious how much he was scared of Seokjin, and by principle, you.
You believe that is still true. Now that you think about it, you're pretty sure you haven’t seen Jungkook ever actually relax around the two of you.
“Noona?”
You blink, coming back to the present as Jimin calls out to you. You take a deep breath, the memories hitting you with tender emotions. All these people are really precious to you, aren’t they? The bunch of you really are a family, aren’t you?
A sad smile swims up to your face. You miss the boys.
When he calls again, you turn to look at Jimin, questioningly. 
“Please don’t be mad at hyung,” he slowly says, looking down at his lap. In this moment, he looks quite unlike the Jimin you are used to and reminds you of, instead, the one you’d first met. “He might lack tact, sometimes, but he really loves you a lot. You’re his whole world. Whatever it is that you are angry about, you should tell him about it. I don’t think he would be able to figure it out by himself.”
This, you agree with. “I’ll try, Jiminie.”
“We all miss you. Especially Hobi hyung and I,” he says with a lopsided excuse of a smile. 
You resist the urge to fluff his hair. Jimin and Hoseok have been like the younger brothers you never had. You miss them, too. 
He suddenly chuckles. "And Yoongi hyung hides it well, but I think he's the one that misses you the most. No one helps him roast Jin hyung quite like you do."
You roll your eyes. "Of course not. It's a waste for Yoongi to even try to find a better partner at roasting Jin."
You spot your apartment building and pull up to it. 
“I’ll try to talk to Jin as soon as I can, Jimin, I promise. Don't worry so much about it,” you say as you step out, patting the boy once on his head. "I miss you all, too."
You give a small wave and faint smile to him as he drives away.
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tagging: @shrimpmsg​
note: so! a lil bit of backstory and the infamous halloween party - how we feelin’ so far? the next part is ~12k words, too, and i’ll post it next wednesday, wait around~ 😘💕
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SECOND PART OUT NOW: read here!
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© jimilter | 2021
439 notes · View notes
fandom-puff · 3 years
Text
Old Man
Pairing: Arthur Shelby x reader
Requested by: anon ‘hey can i request something along the lines of that anon who was talking about reader being younger than arthur shelby and they both flirt but he is a bit insecure about his age but then she convinces him it doesn't matter and they just get at it and have the best hottest sex ever’
Warnings: smut, older man/younger woman, swearing, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it gang)
Gif creds to owner
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“You alright, Arthur? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” you teased as you brushed past him in the betting shop.
Arthur flushed slightly. “I-yeah, I’m alright, YN,” he said hurriedly.
“You don’t sound too sure about that,” you said, perching on the table.
Arthur was, in fact, not very sure of how he was feeling. He had been harbouring a crush on you for months, and what had started off as playful banter had soon turned into straight up flirting. But every time he was about to ask if you wanted to go for a drink, alone, or go to the pictures or to a restaurant, he’d seize up. He was over ten years your senior, and he didn’t think a young, bright girl like you would want an old, broken man like him.
“Arthur?” You said softly, cocking your head to the side. “Are you okay? Tell me,” you coaxed gently.
“I... YN, you’ve gotta promise you won’t... won’t think less of me, alright?” He said, digging his nails into his palms.
“Arthur, why would I-”
“Just promise,” his voice was small.
“Alright. I promise,” you said gently.
“I love you. I’m in love with you. I have been for months. You’re... good. You’re kind and honest and funny and beautiful. You’re a special girl, YN, and I don’t know what I’d do without you. You... don’t have to say anything, not if you don’t feel the same way,”
“Oh, arthur,” you said. “Why wouldn’t I feel the same way?”
“Because... I’m an old man, YN,” he said, looking to his feet. “And I have episodes, episodes where I get really nasty. I can be a right bastard,”
You cupped his cheek, feeling the rough brush of his stubble that he had yet to shave. “I don’t care,” you whispered. “You’re only 37, Arthur, you’re only twelve years older than me. I couldn’t care less. And my heart breaks when I see you angry and upset with yourself. When you lose it, I want to help you, I want to make sure you’re okay, that you aren’t hurting yourself, but Tommy always beats me to it,” you’re forehead was pressed against his, one hand cupping his cheek, the other clasping his hand. “I love you too, Arthur, and I don’t care about all of those other things,”
He was kissing you, tenderly, gently, one tentative hand on your hip, thumb stroking gently. It was slow and soft, yet full of unspoken passion. You let out a soft whine when he pulled away, your face heating up at the uncontrolled noise. “YN...” Arthur murmured, voice hoarse.
“Please...” you replied, grasping onto him.
“Not here. Want it to be special,” he mumbled, pressing gentle kisses to your neck. “Mine?” He murmured.
“Oh, god, yes,” you hummed, letting him take you to his car, to the short drive to his home just outside Small Heath. You were barely through the front door before you were in his arms again, kissing one another with a renewed frenzy, months of pent up passion pouring out. You could feel Arthur’s erection pressed against your thigh as you kissed, and the movement of his lips and hands was making you dizzy, heat and wetness pooling between your thighs. “Arthur,” you mumbled into his mouth.
“I know,” he replied, and together you managed to stumble up the stairs to his bedroom. Biting your lip, you reached behind you, undoing the clasp of your dress as Arthur kicked off his shoes and trousers. As your dress pooled around your feet, leaving you in your underwear, Arthur’s mouth went dry. “Fuck,” he said. “C’mere, love. You’re fucking beautiful,” you nibbled your lip shyly as you approached him, standing between his legs. You grabbed his hands, bringing them close to you, sighing softly when he ran his rough palms over your hips, squeezing gently and feeling the material of your slip. “Can I take this off you, YN?” He asked and you nodded quickly. He gave you a lopsided smile as he lifted it over your head, groaning lowly at the sight of you in your knickers, bra and stockings. You moaned softly as Arthur nuzzled his face in between your breasts, kissing over your heart gently, holding you upright by your knees as you trembled, reaching down to tug at his shirt. “You want this off?” He asked you and you nodded again, helping him unbutton it and push it off his shoulders, leaving the two of you in just your underwear.
You bit your lip hard before ducking your head down to pepper kisses along his freckled collarbone, gasping as he tugged you by the thighs to straddle him. You lowered your hips down slowly, shuddering at the dull throbbing of his member against the heat between your legs, even through the two thin layers of yours and his underwear.
Moaning softly, you captured his lips against yours again, hands coming up to tangle in his hair as you experimentally rocked your hips, whimpering at the delicious drag of his cock against your clothed clit. Arthur let out a guttural groan, grasping onto your writhing hips. “Fuck, YN, I can feel how wet you are, even with your underwear on,”
“Take it off, Arthur, I want to feel you,” you moaned, licking the shell of his ear. Arthur’s eyelids fluttered briefly before he got to work, removing your underwear (and his too) as quickly as he could. He then laid you on your back, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra, fumbling slightly. “Here, let me,” you murmured, helping undo it and casting it aside. Arthur gulped, staring down at you for a few seconds, eyeing up your hardening nipples, noting your thighs shifting closer together, searching for a morsel of friction.
“You’re amazing,” he murmured, and before you could reply he had captured one of your nipples in his mouth, flicking his tongue and grazing the nub with his teeth. You gasped, arching your back as his hand moved to part your thighs, knuckles tracing over your wetness, his thumb rubbing soft circles over your clit. You cried out, before biting back the moan, tipping your head back and twisting the bedsheets in your fists. “Don’t quiet yourself,” Arthur said, muffled by your breast. “Let me hear you, let me hear your noises,”
“Arthur...” you breathed, voice trembling as he eased his finger inside you.
“Tha’s right, love. Say my name, let me make you feel good,” he groaned, sucking a mark on your shoulder before allowing you to pull him back for a kiss. You rocked your hips up to his slowly thrusting hand, hands tangled up in his hair, his moustache scratching against your face.
“Arthur, please,” you moaned, your thighs quivering as he added a second finger, his thumb returning to you with your clit. “Please, I- I want you, Arthur,” you said.
“I’m all yours,” he rasped, kneeling up, grasping his heavy cock by the base. “YN, I don’t have...”
“I don’t care,” you murmured, eyes hazy with desire. “I just want you,” Arthur nodded slowly, pushing your thighs a little wider apart so he could fit comfortably between them, before he pushed in, grunting, hair falling into his face, eyes shut tight.
“You alright?” He asked as he bottomed out, taking in your parted lips, your heaving chest, the slight sheen of sweat on your forehead as you were stretched out.
“Yes,” you moaned, voice shaky. “Move, please,” you whispered. Arthur nodded, bending down to kiss your forehead as he began to move his hips in a slow pace, hooking your leg over his hip. You groaned at the deeper penetration, your arms winding around his neck as his hips rocked. “I love you,” you whimpered, kissing him messily, all teeth and tongue as you both gasped for air, lost in the sensation of one another. You rocked your hips up to meet his steady thrusts, eager for more. You got more; Arthur increased his pace, face buried in your neck as he groaned, the sound of skin slapping filling the room, paired with your moaning, which was gradually getting louder and louder as you both chased your high. Arthur felt the first spasms of your orgasm and grunted; he wanted so desperately to feel you milk his cock of everything he had, the full your womb with his seed, but he knew better, pulling out and jerking himself to completion against your thigh, watching as you twitched beneath him, back arched high off the bed.
Gasping for air, you fell back, staring at the ceiling and seeing stars as Arthur got up. He soon returned with a damp cloth, carefully cleaning away the mess before he slipped into bed with you.
“You’re amazing, you are,” he said softly, tucking you into his side as you rested against his chest.
“Mmm... you too,” you mumbled, kissing his chest gently. “I love you, Arthur,”
“I love you too, darlin’” he smiled, rubbing your back. “Go on, you have a little sleep, love,” he said softly.
“You’ll stay with me?” You asked, lifting your head slightly.
“Of course,”
Tags: @liliputbahn @lilymurphy03 @imareallygrumpyme @acciosiriusblack @shelundeadxxxx @peakyswritings @lazyotakujen
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deniigi · 3 years
Text
Please take this section from a piece about Baby Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon bonding post Bandomeer.
I’m sure that this isn’t how their master-apprentice relationship was formed but I refuse to read so this is it for me 🙃🙂
Title: platelets
Summary: After the smoke clears on Bandomeer, the Agricorps gathers 12yo Obi-Wan into their ranks and prepares to train him to become one of their own. Qui-Gon thinks they should wait a damn minute here. He’s had a change of heart.
---
Obi-Wan was no longer in the med bay. It took Qui-Gon two hours to find him and two years off his life trying to look casual under the irritated gaze of so many suspicious Agricorps members.
The foreman (forewoman) was the first to crack under Qui-Gon’s very charming smile—and she didn’t so much as crack as tell him that his attempts to be subtle disgusted her to the core.
Obi-Wan had been given over to a young lab manager. A friendly man in need of his first supervisee. He was soft at heart and, according to the foreman, very good with kids.
Qui-Gon understood implicitly and rapidly that this was his new competitor.
He asked the foreman what the knights had done to incur the corps’ ire and she told him to search his fucking feelings.
She closed the door behind him, effectively locking him into one of the Agricorps terrarium-lab bubbles.
 --
Qui didn’t like to snoop. He loved to snoop.
Nothing was more satisfying then having a poke through the lines upon lines of glasses and test pockets that covered the tables. He had a sniff around the experimental cuttings taking root in their glasses and then took cover when he heard a voice break out into a laugh.
He peered over the edge of the counter and spotted the familiar green smock-tunic of the corps. Its owner had tan skin and narrow eyes and his back stooped into an arc. Qui-Gon craned his neck and found that the arc came over the tuft-y red hair of his future apprentice (because there was no real question here, regardless of the corps’ agitation; the knights would always get first choice over the initiates).
The lab manager, however, gave no sign of trepidation. He held in front of Obi-Wan a handful of seeds that sprouted and curled under his smile. Obi-Wan watched them with wide eyes. The manager turned his gentle face down towards Obi-Wan and nudged his hands until Obi-Wan was holding the mass as it grew.
“Look, you’re a natural,” the man said.
Obi-Wan sucked in a lip and focused hard. One of the plants’ first adult leaves began to unfurl.
“Well done. Fantastic,” the manager said. “Look at you already. Great job and for that, a reward.”
“A reward?” Obi-Wan asked, handing the tangle of roots off as the manager held out his hands for them.
“A reward,” the manager agreed, plucking one of the fat stems from the bunch and holding it out to Obi-Wan, “A snack.”
Damn. This guy was good.
 --
 The foreman was smug as a dungbeetle in shit when Qui-Gon skulked out of the lab. She asked him how his proposal had gone. He scowled at her and made off back to his quarters.
Normally, he would call someone to lament the traitorous actions of these supposed-allies, but no one was going to be sympathetic right now—not even Tahl. She was going to say what everyone else was going to say which was “Man, you had how many chances to get this right?”
He smashed his face into the pillow of his bunk, then flung it off and flattened his cheek against the mattress.
There had to be some way to turn these tides back in his favor. He wasn’t losing to the Agricorps. Master Dooku would have a heart attack. Qui’s failure in this—more than Xanatos—would kill him and then he’d have to live with that guilt for the rest of his life.
UGH.
Alright, Jinn. Think.
 --
 He had a brilliant plan. It involved a lightsaber. Obi-Wan loved lightsabers. Qui-Gon had witnessed him loving them many a time.
He scrounged up some tools and squeaked past the Agricorps security for a quick bounce off to acquire a crystal. A blue one. Obi-Wan looked like a blue saber sort of kid. It took a while to find one because everyone, everywhere, was conspiring against Qui-Gon on this. Even the Force seemed to be telling him that he was too late.
But for once, he didn’t care. There were only so many times you could fuck up before you started fucking up at least in the right direction.
He got the crystal. He brought it back to the corps headquarters and went on the hunt yet again for his (his damnit) future apprentice.
  This time, Obi-Wan was in the dormitories. Qui-Gon almost gasped in horror to find him outfitted in an over-large green smock-tunic. He flapped the too-long sleeves with a goofy smile while his lab manager reached around him and tightened the belt at his waist as far as it would go.
“You’re so scrawny,” the lab manager told him. “We’ll fix that.”
Obi-Wan beamed up at him and held up his sleeve-covered hands.
“I like green,” he said.
A small piece of Qui-Gon screamed internally.
“I think you’re more of a blue, actually,” the lab manager said. “But this is what we’ve got for now. When you get bigger, we can see if there’s a blue that fits you.”
“There are so many colors,” Obi-Wan said as the manager trapped his arm and started rolling up one of the sleeves. He tried to do the same with the other on his own, which just made the manager’s job harder.
“There are,” the manager said.
“Do you get to pick?”
“You sure do.”
“How do you pick?”
The manager patted Obi-Wan’s head and turned around to hunt down something else from the spare clothing supply.
“It comes to you,” he said, muffled.
There was a long silence. Qui-Gon had just decided to step out of hiding, when Obi-Wan, looking at the rolled edges of his sleeves said,
“I think I want to leave.”
Qui-Gon’s heart stopped. The manager’s rummaging did, too. He pulled himself carefully out of the cupboard.
“Leave?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Obi-Wan said to his sleeves. “I think I want to leave.”
No.
“You’re a little young to leave, aren’t you?” the manager said awkwardly.
“Maybe,” Obi-Wan said. “But I’ll figure it out. If I can survive those people in the mines, then I can figure it out, can’t I? And then I can pick my colors out there. You get to pick, right? Maybe I’ll do blue after all.”
Fuck. No. Qui-Gon was gonna—
“Hey, why don’t we do this?” the manager said, setting aside a set of gaiters to kneel down in front of Obi-Wan. “Let’s give us a trial run, huh? Two months, max. I know we didn’t make the best first impression, but give us two months—eight weeks—and after that, if you don’t like it, we’ll make sure you’ve got somewhere to go when you’re ready to leave. Does that sound okay?”
Qui-Gon held his breath. Obi-Wan studied the knuckles of the hands holding his. He rubbed his split lips together.
“Eight weeks?” he asked.
“That’s all, no more and if you really, really can’t stand it, then even less,” the manager said.
“And you’ll help me? Even if I say I don’t want to stay?”
“Even if you don’t want to stay.”
Maybe Qui was operating on another, less child-friendly level here, but why in kark’s name you’d even give the boy the illusion of choice was beyond him. The answer was, truly, that the second Obi-Wan set foot away from the jedi, he’d be signing his own death sentence.
Xanatos wouldn’t care if he wasn’t Qui-Gon’s true apprentice. He wouldn’t ask those kinds of questions. He’d just seize the opportunity the moment Obi-Wan no longer had someone standing behind him, and when he was through, he’d bring the body to the Temple and lay it out cold and open-eyed on the front steps.
There were no other options for the child now. Qui-Gon was being kind with this process of trust-building. In reality, if he really needed to, he could contact Yoda and acquiesce to his previous wisdom and arguments for Qui-Gon to take the kid on. Yoda would then change the boy’s assignment and orders; he would return to the temple and thereafter again go through the selection process. But this time, Qui-Gon would select him without hesitation.
That wasn’t how Qui-Gon wanted to do this, but if the boy thought that he was going to leave, to step out into the cold of space, then to spare him a cruel, meaningless death, Qui-Gon would.
“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said quietly to the manager.
“Anytime, hon,” the manager said. “Who knows, anyways. You might even like it here.”
 --
  The trouble with the damn Agricorps was that they were phenomenal talkers. They talked to people about their problems and all these insecurities and they gave them food and drinks and told jokes and laughed and hefted their littlest supervisees up onto their shoulders and all that served to make their members loyal to each other to a fault.
In short, Obi-Wan’s lab manager was winning this battle more every day.
This was not helped at all by the fact that Qui-Gon had discovered through a surprise meeting that Obi-Wan was afraid of him.
They’d bumped into each other in the hallway as Obi-Wan came from the mess hall and Qui-Gon went to drop off some documents, and the kid scrambled away from him and flattened himself against the corridor’s wall.
Some serious meditation (and agitating Mace, great tower of sleep-deprived wisdom) had brought Qui-Gon to the conclusion that yeah, a month in forced labor, being banished to a mine, food deprivation, physical assault, and so on really did a number on a twelve-year-old’s trust in people and their associates.
Further, Mace pointed out that Qui-Gon was approximately ‘half a mile tall and covered in overgrowth.’
He did not appear to be a soothing presence to children. Mace said that if he’d deigned to join him and the other masters in chatting and cuddling the younglings in the crèche, this wouldn’t have been a problem, but alas, Qui, you stuck-up nerfherder. You reap what you sow.
Mace’s hind and foresight was, as per usual, invaluable.
Qui-Gon decided that he was going to be the nice version of himself. He was going to smile at Obi-Wan. That would do it.
 --
 It didn’t do it.
The foreman came to Qui-Gon’s quarters to gleefully tell him not to approach the corps’ young supervisees unprompted. He was giving the children hives.
He explained to her outright that he intended to take Obi-Wan on as his apprentice.
She told him good luck. Obi-Wan, she claimed, was already settling in with the others. He was making friends. And Qui-Gon wasn’t so cruel as to separate such a traumatized boy from such comfort, now was he?
But there, she was mistaken.
He definitely was that cruel.
The foreman told him to die miserable and slammed his door.
 --
 It took another two tries, but eventually, he managed to find Obi-Wan tucked away on one of his breaks from his training in the lab. He appeared to be at a loss for what to do with himself. He’d settled against a window and had splayed both hands on it as he stared out into the cracked soil of Bandomeer.
Qui-Gon watched him for a little while and then cleared his throat.
Obi-Wan jumped. His eyes came up for the briefest second and then his head went down.
“Master,” he greeted.
“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon replied. “You seem bored.”
Guilt colored the boy’s cheeks in a flush.
“I’m not bored, Master,” he said, fidgeting with his rolled sleeves.
“May I sit?” Qui-Gon asked, gesturing next to where Obi-Wan knelt. He nodded and arranged himself in a more dignified posture. Qui-Gon let him; he sat down next to him, grumbling and creaking and popping.
His bones weren’t what they used to be.
Once he was finally more or less comfortable, he turned to notice Obi-Wan staring at him with eyes like a cat’s.
“What? You never seen an old man sit?” he asked.
“What happened to your hair?” Obi-Wan asked.
Oh.
“It’s in a bun,” Qui-Gon explained, reaching up to release the mane. It tumbled down over his shoulders and cheered for fresh air.
Obi-Wan’s gaze became even more cat-like. Qui-Gon fought off a smirk.
“You want to touch it?” he asked.
The kid looked away abruptly.
“It’s okay. You can touch it,” Qui told him. “It looks better than it feels, I must say. Needs a trim—look at these ends, little one. I ought to be arrested for crimes against decency.”
Aha. Gotcha. Look at that wobble in those lips. Trying not to smile. They’d see how long that worked, now wouldn’t they?
He badgered Obi-Wan until he finally broke and reached up to brush his fingers against the hair Qui-Gon put within his reach. His attention snapped into place.
“It’s soft,” he said, amazed.
His fingers started combing without permission. Qui-Gon let it happen.
“Very useful for cold climates—have you ever felt a snow-yak, Obi-Wan?” he asked.
The boy shook his head. Of course, he hadn’t.
“Do you know what they look like?”
Another shake.
“Well, perhaps one day, you will see them,” Qui-Gon said indulgently. “When I was a boy, my master told me not to try to pet them—he told me at every step of the way, he knew me well. But you know what I did?”
There was that smile now.
“You pet them?” Obi-Wan asked.
“I sure did,” Qui-Gon told him. “And you know that they did?”
“Kicked you?”
“Me? No. I was too small a target. They charged my master—Master Dooku; you may have heard of him.”
Obi-Wan shoved his giggles into his palms.
“I want to pet one,” he said.
“Yes, you do look like the type,” Qui-Gon said. “Tell me, Obi-Wan, what are your feelings on pathetic lifeforms?”
“What’s that?”
“You tell me. What’s a pathetic lifeform to you?”
Obi-Wan settled in and thought about it as he gazed out the window’s thick glass.
“Me,” he decided.
Bless him.
“You?” Qui-Gon said incredulously. “No, no. You saved a jedi master. I said ‘pathetic.’”
“Me,” Obi-Wan insisted again.
Qui-Gon held a finger out between them.
“If you are a pathetic life form, then I am in grave danger,” he said.
The giggle this time wasn’t hidden. It make Qui-Gon’s own grin grow.
“I was thinking a lothcat,” he admitted. “Or a dragon—love a dragon. Of course, the yak—perhaps not pathetic to my master, but to others yes. They’re not smart, Obi-Wan, poor things.”
“You like animals,” Obi-Wan said.
Qui-Gon weighed this statement with his head.
“’Animals’ isn’t quite broad enough, but yes, they fall into the category,” he said. “I’m also a big fan of rescuing the plants that no one can keep alive.”
Obi-Wan brought up his knees and wrapped his arms around them. He settled a soft cheek onto the top of the right one.
“That’s what I’ll be doing here,” he said.
“Indeed,” Qui-Gon said.
There was a long pause. The boy sniffed softly.
“You will be happy here,” Qui-Gon told him gently. “They will take care of you.”
Another sniff. An eye scrubbed with a too-long sleeve.
“I’m sorry I’m not good enough,” Obi-Wan whispered.
Well, this was a conversation Qui-Gon hadn’t wanted to walk into. There were, from his vantage point, a few ways out of it, but at the end of each of those paths was a set of brown eyes framed by intense, wispy green brows.
“You are good enough,” Qui-Gon said. “I am just a foolish master. You deserve someone better than me, Obi-Wan.”
“There is no one else,” Obi-Wan said.
“There will be,” Qui-Gon said.
“No, there won’t. I’m out of time. All that’s left for me is...this,” Obi-Wan said, gesturing to the landscape beyond the window.
Qui-Gon studied it; the cracks in the soil, the piles of broken stones.
“It is a little bleak,” he admitted.
“What is it like for non-jedi people?” Obi-Wan asked. “Do they go to school? How do they find somewhere to sleep?”
“You will not be a non-jedi person,” Qui-Gon said.
There was a long pause.
“What?”
Qui-Gon sucked in a breath and let his shoulders fall.
“Unless you really want to be one,” he added. “Apologies, I spoke without thinking.”
Those blue eyes were the same color as the crystal in Qui-Gon’s pocket. He put his hand inside of it and pulled the carefully wrapped parcel out so that Obi-Wan could see it. He rolled it slowly until only the crystal sat in his palm.
“There is greatness in you, Obi-Wan,” he said. “And I am not a good enough Master, but you are more than a deserving padawan.”
The eyes flicked from the crystal to Qui-Gon’s face once, then twice.
“Do you mean it?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Are you okay with having a silly master?” Qui-Gon asked. “I will not sugar-coat it—one of my students has already fallen. I am the type of person who Master Windu has been dreaming of the unfortunate demise for since we were children.”
“Why?” Obi-Wan asked with eyes only for the crystal.
“Excellent question. I am told that my brain is fundamentally ill-suited for human interaction,” Qui-Gon said with a smile.
Obi-Wan huffed.
“Does Master Windu really dislike you so much?” he asked.
“He speaks to me in such ways only out of love. My other friends say that I am dedicated intensely to the flight of fancy.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Obi-Wan said.
“You know, funny thing,” Qui-Gon told him, reaching over to take his hand and press the crystal into it, “Neither do I.”
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