#(which is also apparently based on a book. which I sadly have not read. maybe it'll be the next thing on my reading list)
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The existence of this Rosaline movie makes me so MAD, because SHE WAS NEVER IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH ROMEO. SHE TOOK A VOW OF CHASTITY, AND SAID THAT SHE WAS JUST GONNA NOT BE IN LOVE.
SHE. REJECTED. HIM.
SHE WAS NEVER INTERESTED IN BEING WITH HIM AT ALL.
And then they just...make a whole movie from her supposed perspective (which is loosely based on a book which...hoo boy we’ll get to that in a second), where the premise is that she’s jealous and wants to break him and Juliet up? That she’s so in love that she has to win him over again? (Also, how do they justify her knowing that they’re together? The entire point is that no one knows Romeo and Juliet are in love?? I know this is an adaptation, but Jesus Christ.)
WHY DID YOU PICK THIS CHARACTER. TO HAVE THIS STORY WITH. THE WHOLE POINT OF HER CHARACTER IS THAT SHE CHOOSES NOT TO BE WITH HIM. THAT’S WHAT OPENS THE DOOR TO HIM MEETING JULIET. IF ROSALINE IS DEEPLY INTO ROMEO, THE ENTIRE PLAY DOESN’T WORK.
Are we saying that she was just “““playing hard to get”””? That she was toying with his heart for fun? That when she told him no, she really meant “yes”?? I THOUGHT WE LEFT THAT BEHIND OVER THE COURSE OF THE LAST DECADE, I THOUGHT WE DECIDED THAT WAS BAD???!!?
Don’t even get me started on the book this is based on, where that general premise is that Rosaline is just an Innocent Average Girl, and her cousin who is Beautiful™ and vOLaTiLeLY uNsTAbLe and cRaZy comes and “takes” her poor unsuspecting boyfriend who is completely blameless for his own terrible behavior away from her while being called a “slut” the whole time. (I doubt much of this carried over into the actual movie, because that’s being billed as an ironic rom-com, and I highly doubt ANYONE would try to make that genre work while keeping this premise 100% intact.)
WHY WOULD YOU EXPAND THIS CHARACTER LIKE THIS. WHY. WE STUDY THIS PLAY IN SCHOOL AS AN EXAMPLE OF LITERARY STRUCTURE AND POETIC LANGUAGE AND FORESHADOWING AND HOW TO WRITE A TRAGIC NARRATIVE AND FOR WHAT. FOR PEOPLE TO NOT TAKE AWAY ANY OF THE INTENDED MEANING FROM THIS PLAY???!?!?!? I AM SCREAMING SO HARD I WILL BREAK THE EARTH’S CRUST UNTIL I AM SUBSUMED INTO HELL.
If you’re going to adapt something, you’ve gotta make it clear that you have some significant understanding of the original work. Retellings are fine! They can even have different functions or deconstruct tropes or be unexpectedly edgy! But it’s 1000% obvious when you don’t have any knowledge or engagement with the source material, and that is a problem. It’s ignorant, it’s lazy, and everyone involved deserves better.
#also like...juliet has been praised as a compelling and well-rounded theatrical heroine with clear goals by literary scholars for a LONG#time. you don't get to just...ignore that and say 'lol nope she's just cRaZy instead'#am I a LITTLE sensitive when it comes to people adapting shakespeare?? maybe. but also I don't care.#is it just because people are thirsting over That One Guy?? is that it?? is that why this movie was made???? I hate it here.#ANYWAY you want an actually GOOD expansion of rosaline's character that gives her Secret Feelings For Someone that she can't say#out loud because of a JUSTIFIED narrative reason and also gives her a well-developed#tentative-allies-to-lovers romance story watch still star-crossed#(which is also apparently based on a book. which I sadly have not read. maybe it'll be the next thing on my reading list)#GOD this is the 'lady macbeth is a stoic badass who never really loved her husband' all over again but like. in the opposite direction#UGH after juliet did the same ''she was just playing COY and HARD TO GET' thing too and I hate it#WHY CAN'T WE JUST HAVE WOMEN REJECT MEN? WHY IS THAT SO HARD FOR PEOPLE TO WRITE???#we could EVEN have a story about rosaline GENUINELY NEVER FALLING IN LOVE because she doesn't want to!!#wow shocking I know!#okay I'm done now#sorry#salty mc13 is salty#anti rosaline movie#idk how the fuck to tag this#romeo and juliet
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Bring on the mutant clones!
So apparently, the way to get a good, 'proper' wuxia drama these days that isn't yet another Jin Yong or Gu Long adaptation is to make a well-constructed fanfiction-style re-imagination of a JY or GL classic. That way it can be simultaneously fresh and familiar. And if the writing, acting, action sequences, etc. are good, it's so much fun and I love it. These past few years, I really enjoyed watching "Word of Honor" and "Mysterious Lotus Casebook", both of which are clear cases of this. (Note: I haven't read the books for WoH or MLC, so this is based on the dramas only.)
"Word of Honor" is obviously heavily inspired by Jin Yong's "Smiling Proud Wanderer" (Xiao Ao Jiang Hu), except redone as a BL/danmei. It even keeps the various orthodox sects from XAJH (the Five Mountains Sword Schools Alliance! plus the Shaolin, Wudang, Beggars, etc.) as part of the setting, features a hunt for a MacGuffin (key to some ultimate power or other), and is full of that flavor of treachery and scheming for power reminiscent of XAJH. It's been a while since I watched WOH, so I've forgotten most of the details, but I remember getting a strong XAJH vibe from it.
"Mysterious Lotus Casebook", which I just finished watching and loved even more than "Word of Honor", has more of the feel of Gu Long's "Sentimental Swordsman, Ruthless Sword" (Xiaoli Feidao series, book 1). Come on, the protagonists even have the same surname: Lotus Li (Xiangyi/Lianhua) vs Flying Dagger Li (Xunhuan)!
Both of them can pass as scholarly types (though Gu Long's Mr. "Number Three in the Exams" Li more so) and went from a high status position to retiring from the jianghu for ten years. Both are clever, tricky types who live by their wits.
Both of them pushed their female love interests (and deceived them) onto their 'friend' who actually hated/plotted against them. The protagonist comes off better (as in, I don't want to punch him in the face quite as much) in MLC than in "Sentimental Swordsman" --- he doesn't treat her as his property to be traded away. And in theory the female character had more agency in MLC, though I felt let down by the actor here. I think she was supposed to be more driven by guilt (because she broke up with the male lead right before his supposed death) rather than sadly pining after and still in love with him. It would have worked better if she came off as being genuinely in love with the other character, but on screen it feels like she was just worn down and never liked him that much. So as a 'fix-it' to that aspect of "Sentimental Swordsman"… maybe. In theory.
They both get the "enemy is someone you thought you had good relations with" trope (admittedly a common one in wuxia)…
…While their real friend is called "A-Fei" and is a top-notch swordsman. And both A-Fei's are plagued by a professional seductress (who uses drugs and poisons) who clings to/falls in love with them!
They both meet their number one fans. Dagger Li actually marries his in the end, but in MLC that only happens in the eyes of the real life fans (the subtext is definitely there, though I prefer to read it as platonic bromance). The whole thing is funnier in MLC, with Fang Duobing starting out as a naive doofus who claims to everyone he's a disciple of (supposedly dead) Li Xiangyi, including to the man himself and to A-Fei who knows the truth. Then he feels so betrayed when he finds out the truth, and that was all done really well in the show. Another similarity: the girl in "Sentimental Swordsman" has a kick-ass granddad, while Fang Duobing has his mom (another great character), the leader of Tianji Hall (I love a good mechanism specialist).
There's an actual book in-world that lists the top-ranked martial artists! The MLC one seems to be updated regularly, even. That was also a thing in "Sentimental Swordsman", with characters constantly citing the book at each other, and some were completely obsessed. It's kind of a running joke in both.
Solving all the mysteries (and the tomb raiding!) was reminiscent of Chu Liuxiang, another Gu Long protagonist (my childhood favorite). And for non-wuxia influences, Li Lianhua reminded me of Howl from "Howl's Moving Castle" with the lying and slithering out of situations, not to mention the cool-looking mobile home!
So yeah, instead of trying to get a fresh take on adapting a book that's already been adapted like twenty times and offending the purists if you make too many weird changes, file off the serial numbers and take a few steps to the side for a more interesting and coherent re-mix! And set it in a fictional dynasty so you can use fake historical figures and kingdoms to suit your plot without worrying about slandering real people (while I love Jin Yong's use of actual history, even he ended up changing some characters in later revisions because of that) or how much the characters are allowed to affect things on a bigger scale. Plus you can update and improve on the things that were annoying or outdated in the "classics". You're free to change the meaning of the tale to suit yourself without any need to distort the intentions of the original writer.
That's not to say it's impossible to come up with completely new wuxia stories, but building new variations on old stories is worthwhile, too. And beneath any surface similarities, each version has its own story to tell. That said, ninety percent of everything is crap… so besides these two shows I liked, there were a bunch of ones I didn't, whether an adaptation of an old wuxia classic or something newer. (Some of those may improve in later episodes, but I guess I'll never know…)
Long live the mutant clones!
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The Furies of Calderon
Why they wanted me to read it: It’s the start of a series with lots of fun political intrigue and creative use of elemental powers.
I will give you the elemental powers bit! I will give it to you all day long, it is a very neat magic system, and considering that apparently Butcher wrote it after being given the prompt “lost roman legion” and “pokemon” I think developing pokemon into a fury-based magic system was very cool indeed. Loved it. Lived for it.
The political intrigue...I’ll have to take your word for it. In this first book, at least, it feels like a very stock “traitor in the kingdom” type story.
As always, submitter, if you have specific questions, send them to me!
Sadly, the book very much did not work for me.
I really liked Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files, to a point, about, oh, book six or seven? Anyway, what I loved about it was the idea of wizard powers existing and being real but also Harry has to pay fucking rent and buy milk. I like that, as an idea. I have no idea if I would still like it today I read them back in college when I wanted something to read that was stupidish and I have no idea if they would hold up even as popcorn reads. I refuse to sully the memory by rereading.
ANYWAY, so this is by the same guy and Oy and also Gevalt.
My friend called this sort of book a “transit book” which is a book you can read on the bus because you can pick it up and put it down within ten minutes, no big deal. And that feels very fair to me. It’s not even HORRIBLE or anything, mostly. it’s just pretty shallow. Every time I picked it up, I was like, “sure, why not, this may as well happen” and also like, ‘Oh hey quick question, I’m confused: Is Kord evil? Could you maybe like, clarify that situation? Seems unclear.” This was basically not YA because Butcher wanted to heavily imply rape as a torture tool. It certainly is not YA because of any complexity of character* or challenging prose.
What I liked:
We don’t overcomplicate the magic system! Butcher is smart enough to MOSTLY shut up about it. “A fury bonds with them when they’re about fifteen, they have some sort of elemental power that appears vaguely like an animal, moving on” BLESS YOU SIR. And because we don’t overcomplicate it and we don’t go too far into it, there was no point at which I was like, ‘Okay this beggars belief” I was there the whole time. Loved the limits placed on it even if a few of them confused me. Loved that some of them have effects on human feelings, and emotions, and reading people, and I thought it was 98% really really well carried out, which is more than a lot of magic in ficiton.
The Marat in general. I love the idea of the different tribes, and the way that a whelp can go between the tribes when they mature, and also the idea of calling someone who hasn’t yet become an adult a whelp because who the actual fuck cares about the difference between the sexes until they’re adults? I think it steers a LITTLE to the “if i make them blonde, it’s not savage stereotyping” which I think probably works with most people to be frank, I was just a little like “hm” and not even in a “I SAW JIM BUTCHER AT THE DEVIL’S SACRAMENT” just more “rein this in a touch, just a touch” because mostly I think they’re a really interesting people but some of the ‘savagery” really needs to be dialed back when you have so many other stereotypes at play. Again, and, oh my god do I need you to read this, this is not me going, “THIS IS BAD BC STEREOTYPE CANCEL THIS BOOK” this me going, “this could have been done more thoughtfully rather than slapping blonde hair on them so everyone knows they’re white and figuring that’ll do it” Anyway, that out of the way I thought the Marat were a genuinely interesting people with some good fucking sense once you trim a little bit of the fat. A favored part of the book.
The combat writing is REALLY good. The fight writing is REALLY good. And that’s not easy! I know that for a fact! i was very impressed by the quality of particularly the swordfighting writing.
I liked the very end where Tavi was off gathering the sheep he promised. Showed actual and real character.
What DIDN’T work for me:
We have a very Stephen King level “strong female character” thing going on. This doesn’t at all remotely surprise me given that I have in fact read The Dresden Files and even back in the day, that’s a criticism I would have given TDF. I KNOW he wants to write strong female characters, I GET that from him, and i feel for him, but whatever he thinks he’s doing, he ain’t doing it. I wanted to like Amara so much more than I did, but she seemed like such a slapped on bundle of ideas and projections than she did a character. I may not care much for Tavi’s whole ‘magical underdog’ thing, but he feels like a fully realized human character to me in a way Amara doesn’t. Amara is Clever and Sensual and Strong and Brave but to me it just never comes together into making her a human. It’s, and this is with all the female characters, very These Woman Are Strong and Smart But Not So Strong and Smart That They Don’t Need a Man.
WOOF DO I HATE THE AMARA AND BERNARD THING HOLY FUCK I DID NOT SEE IT COMING. She’s a nubile young, what, early twentysomething? Since she’s supposedly graduating from what appears to be a college type training program? And he’s in his forties, given the ages of what his kids would be, etc? Not a great look, Jim! Not a great look. Did not love. Did not want.
I was so disappointed with the way that Tavi got to school Kitai, school a whole people who have lived among this danger and yet apparently not a single one of them has had the fire thought or idea. It’s that “magical underdog” thing I was talking about that I am just not into at all and am pretty much over. I called that whole “You’re a GIRL” thing way before it happened.
Of course he’s going to marry Kitai and of course her father is fine with this even though Tavi is a fucking ALERAN and whatever whatever kill me just let a man and a woman interact please.
The Kord thing is SO SO HEAVYHANDED. I already hate the guy, you can let it go. You don’t need to go into all this very weird and fucked up shit to make me hate him and be fine with him dying. Kord is the big bad of this book. He’s very mustache twirling. I’m annoyed that sexual violence has to be such a part of this, because it didn’t need to be. I didn’t need this character to be like this.
I find the whole Fade thing very clunky and weird. My opposition isn’t that I saw it coming--the way is laid for us to figure out long before the reveal--but that when I sit and think of it I can’t think of a good reason for it and also SERIOUSLY, no one has noticed in the what, fifteen or more years? That fade has been there? Do we believe Isana and Bernard really lack that kind of observation, not to know who he is, but to know that he’s not so simple as everyone thinks? In a better book, I might give this a handwavey pass, but when sins pile up they make a wall, you know.
Anyway by the time we got to the end I was exhausted with this fucking neverending battle, and it didn’t matter how good the combat writing was, it was pages and pages and pages of this battle with a forgone conclusion and I was so much just PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LET THIS BOOK END.
In all, I found this book...boring. I found it to be a very by the numbers fantasy book with an unlikely hero. King in trouble from a traitor within. Fighting the savage people. Like, this is all fine if you are a person who likes fantasy as a genre, and that is NOT me trashing people who like fantasy as a genre, that’s me making an observation. I like horror, as a genre. A very by the numbers haunted house/inscribed latin/demons in the cellar/electricity going out book is great for me. Love it. But if someone doesn’t love horror, they’re bored, and I get it. I don’t dislike fantasy but I also don’t actively like it, so it has to really do something as a narrative for me. I don’t feel this does.
*Odiana is the closest I’ll give to having a character be complex. I did like her, and I will give Butcher the credit of having her be a horrible little person who is capable of sometimes doing a good thing simply so she won’t be in bondage to another. Love it. If she were a little smarter I’d say she has Michiru vibes. I think she might have been my favorite character. “I wasn’t hurting him. I was killing him. There’s a difference. It wasn’t anything personal.” Amazing.
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This Way to the Tomb
This Way to the Tomb: A Masque and Anti-Masque by Ronald Duncan
i took a break from reading e-galleys and ebooks from the library to sit in my cozy reading nook and meander through (and sneeze through, i am sadly allergic to that old book smell) this play from 1946. not out of any great interest in or understanding of plays, in a historical sense, so apologies to any deep theater nerds out there. no, amid the miscellany of my day job at an academic library, i came across this article about a book that had been returned to a library 76 years overdue, and the title caught my eye because i'm obsessed with The Locked Tomb series (which i have not reviewed here yet, but i will after the fourth book comes out). i googled it, could not find enough information about it to satisfy my curiosity as to whether it would dovetail with my Locked Tomb obsession, saw that my library system had a copy, and decided to just read it and find out.
so, not the weirdest way i have ended up reading a book, but not straightforward either. i am a firm believer in curiosity, and have accumulated a lot of esoteric knowledge in unrelated areas over a lifetime of pursuing fannish interests as far as i could stretch them.
though this book was not particularly useful in analyzing my blorbos, i had a good time! i learned, first of all, that a masque "is a form of courtly entertainment containing music, dancing, singing and acting out a story." (thanks No Sweat Shakespeare) which clarifies the fun structure of this play for me. side note, apparently the music was composed by Benjamin Britten, who i had vaguely heard of.
we start out with the masque portion, in which an imagined St. Antony (not based on any historical St. Anthony as far as i can tell, so not the guy who finds the things i misplace) is living a hermity life up on a mountain with three disciples, fasting and generally abstaining from temptation, until a Voice tells him that he can finally die once he's stopped feeling so proud of himself for fasting and has eaten a bit of the food his worried disciples have brought him. i love this, tbh. get off your high horse and have a meal, Antony. the three disciples are also maybe representing Antony's sins? i would not describe them as sins really, but one of them is always trying to get him to eat, and one of them sings him songs, and one of them somehow represents his pride and intellect. my favorite was Marcus, who just wanted Antony to eat and kept making him food and worrying over it, very relatable. there is a lot of singing and poetry overall in this section, which i presume is why it's a masque.
then we reach the anti-masque! which i think is still meant to be sung, and has a chorus, but has some fun metatextual elements to it. this section is i think set at the time the play was written (1946), and is a television broadcast about a group of people going around the world looking for religion and religious miracles and generally making light of everything they've looked into so far, who have arrived at the cave tomb where St. Antony is buried. there's a postcard seller, who they turn away because they have their own cameras and equipment. then several of the outrageous characters in this bunch (such as Girl of Leisure and Man of Culture) confess their sins in front of the tomb, see someone looking back at them, and then when they can't verify what they saw with their cameras they chalk it up to a reflection in the stone. they pop open the tomb even, and find it empty, and their equipment doesn't pick up anything! it has a kinship with an episode of Buzzfeed Unsolved for me.
things go a little wild after that; some women show up vagueing, who i take to be Mary and Mary Magdalene, then St. Antony himself shows up, and none of the characters in this group searching for religion catch on to the miraculous visitation they're getting. then the postcard seller, who left the last of his bread at the opened tomb, turns out to be Marcus, the disciple who kept trying to get Antony to eat; and the chorus turns out to be Julian, the disciple who sang; and Father Opine, the leader of the atheist religious weirdos group, turns out to be Bernard, the disciple who somehow represented Antony's pride. they all have a last bit of philosophy together about the circular nature of time and death and renewal, and ta da, that's the end! even in the cynical "modern age" of television, says Ronald Duncan, there are people who are too proud to see miracles, and people who give up their last morsel in worship, and people who sing beautiful songs.
this is a lot more plot summary than i would usually give, and perfectly lazy analysis because i am not a scholar in any area that might help me interpret this very intelligently, but i had a good time and there was a little more subtlety here than my hamfisted explanation! and since there are no plot summaries on the first page of google results about this play, maybe i am helping some other curious person out there decide whether or not to seek this one out.
the deets
how i read it: a physical book!! from the library!! i had to take an allergy pill and wash my hands and face after, but i do love paging through an old ass book.
try this if you: dig plays that get meta, have a fondness for weird christian things (with Catholic flavor imo), like a satire, or are just as obsessed with The Locked Tomb as i am and so will pick up any old thing that could be in vague conversation with it by virtue of also being about religion and death and the passage of time.
some lines i really liked: including some things that stood out to me only for the Locked Tomb of it all. also there are so many bits i thought were neat that i'm putting them under a cut.
ANTONY: It is winter. Again, winter.
The blind mouth of the earth sucks a dry udder.
Only leaves, falling over and over, disturb the year's slumber.
And my mind clings to the past,
Like a velvet train dragged on wet grass.
---
SOPRANO SOLO (sings off stage): Oh proud heart take pity on that part of me
Which lies in you as your own lost heart.
---
How I fear Time: which is all change.
Oh, where is there a fair face found to challenge
Advancing age, with his full equipage and cortege, and not surrender?
I have pressed my lips upon
Helen's mouth and kissed a skeleton.
---
ANTHONY: What's wrong with you?
LECHERY: I have a wound that burns with pain. A pain only you can cure.
ANTONY: I'll see what I can do. Where is the wound?
LECHERY: On my leg here. Higher. Higher.
ANTONY: Oh! Away with you.
---
Enter a RADIO ANNOUNCER.
ANNOUNCER: Do you refer to me?
PROLOGUE: I do.
ANNOUNCER: I'd have you know, Sir, that this is Clarence de la Dell speaking. I am the premiere anouncer for the Oracle, and this is an actuality relay from the sanctified studio reserved for televising spiritual services and religious experiences. And who are you? And how did you crawl in?
PROLOGUE: I am the Prologue.
ANNOUNCER: The what?
PROLOGUE: I am the Prologue.
ANNOUNCER: Poor chap. But never mind, just run along with you.
PROLOGUE: To hell with you! This was my play.
---
CRITIC (in audience): And there I, for one, disagree with you. The Saint has not appeared for dramatic reasons. Not because this age lacks faith. One of the fundamental weaknesses of this play is, to my mind, the author's shallow conception of the people's fears. The novitiates we have seen are mere clay pigeons for the point of cheap satire, quite unrepresentative of the public's inarticulate spiritual dilemma.
---
CHORUS: We are where our thoughts are
Time was invented by clocks
and Place was discovered by Maps.
---
1ST WOMAN: They stoned him in Rome
They lynched him in Moscow
They bled him in Troy
They broke him at Toledo.
Have you seen my son?
FATHER OPINE: No, Madam. How would I know him?
2ND WOMAN: By his eyes which are wet with your tears
By his blood which bleeds from your wounds
And by his scars.
FATHER OPINE: Dear lady, what scars?
2ND WOMAN: In Babylon they whipped his back
And in Boston they kicked him
He has a scar on his head
Where they clubbed him at Buchenwald
But it is by the scar in his side that you will know him.
1ST WOMAN: Have you seen him?
FATHER OPINE: No, Madam.
---
ANTONY: Everything must renew,
nothing living is immutable.
The fairest flower
falls in the hour
and becomes dust
As the proudest Emperor must
and leave the purple canopies of Rome
For the sepulchre's strict curfew.
Nor are the dead unchangeable;
Death's solid splendours
life devours
through the soil's lust
The seed takes, and the thirsty roots thrust,
--and as a cabbage, Kings re-enter Rome.
#books and reading#bookblr#book recs#book reviews#is it really a book review if the book is from 1946? maybe it's more like a book summary#this way to the tomb#ronald duncan#plays
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Prime Missing~ TFP! Optimus x Half-Predacon! Reader *Request*
Requested by the lovely CreatorCat
Plot: Hi there! Could I please request a TFP Optimus x half Cybertronian and half Predacon female Autobot reader? Only Optimus knows she is like that. Her Predacon form is a dragon and her vehicle form is a mustang car (Wildstyle colors from Lego Movie). Her fighting style is dancing (dance fighting, usually coordinated with music only she can hear in her earpiece, unpredictable). It takes place during Beast Wars where they meet Ultra Magnus. Optimus goes missing and the reader is very upset because she has a crush on the Prime.
Ultra Magnus grows a crush on her after seeing her fight in battle. He is concerned she'll get hurt because her style doesn't fall into the protocol and can't be monitored. He forbids her from joining the ranks in battle until she 'shaded up'. The reader is devasted and falls into sort of depression because that she wouldn't be able to dance or fight anymore and that was what she lived for. Optimus returns (finally) to find his crush (the reader) not herself anymore. They have been 'broken' and fight the way that Ultra Magnus saw fit. He's horrified because this wasn't 'his Y/N' and confronted Ultra Magnus. Afterward, Optimus takes the reader aside and confesses and she smiles for the first time in 'forever'. The next battle she's in, she breaks protocol and does her original style of fighting much to everyone's happiness (except Ultra Magnus). She also reveals her Predacon side to protect everyone from the Decepticons and Predaking.
What do you think?
That's a long request ever since I got a request to write a high school version. Lol. So, I read the entire text here and began to think. Do not think it is a bad way. I absolutely love the request but however, I don't like a few things. I'm not familiar with Beast Wars at all. I know only like literally one character and that is Optimal Primal. He is in fact the new Prime in Power of the Primes after Optimus' death. Don't believe me? Watch the 10 episodes or follow the OC book that I'm working on since I'm partnered up with Alita-One and others on Quotev. Furtonaly, I don't like Beast Wars at all since it's different. I also couldn't help but cringe a bit since it's TFP playing in Beast Wars. I remember some clips and scenes where Optimus actually goes missing after the base got exploded and Ultra Magnus appearing. I also remember Predacon's Rising.
Also since I don't like hurting other lovely characters (either rejected or friend-zoned), I made Ultra Magnus different. He'll be not crushing on the reader, but don't worry, he'll get tasted with his own medicine. Revenge will arrive.
Head area:
Brain: Processor / Brain Module
Head: Helm
Face: Face plate
Ears: Audio receptors / Receptor Orifice / Audials
Nose: Enstril / Olfactory Sensor
Eye brow: Optical Ridge
Eyes: Optics
Mouth: Intake
Lips: Dermas
Teeth: Denta/Dentas
Tongue: Glossa
Chest area:
Chest: Chassis / Thoraxal Cavity
Back: Hexa-Lateral Scapula
Spine: Bipedalism cord / Back Strut
Chest and back armour:
Chest plate
Back plate
Mid-section plating
Neck guard
Side plating
Arm area:
Arms: Arms / Restarlueus
Forearms: Bitarlueus
Hands: Servos
Fingers: Digits
Arm armour:
Gantlets
Shoulder pads
Arm guard
Lower area:
Pelvis: Pelvis
Butt: Aft / Skid-Plate
Thighs: Tibulen
Calves: Cadulen
Feet: Pedes - the high heel bits are called Struts or Heel Struts.
Lower armour:
Skirt plates
Aft plate / Skid plate
Thigh guard
Ankle guard
General/Internal components:
Muscles: Cables / Pistons - It depends on the area in question.
Veins: Fual lines
Stomach: Tanks
Lungs: Vents - used to stop the con/bot from over heating.
Heart: Spark
Tattoos: D-con/A-bot Insignias and the lark
T-Cog: The thing that allows all Cybertronians to transform, be that their arms or their whole body.
Bonus:
Penis: Spike
Vagina: Valve
Body: Frame
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"Jack, meet Ultra Magnus," Arcee introduced her human partner to the missing commander of the Autobots.
Jack looked shocked as he took a look at Ultra Magnus. He was light blue while Optimus was dark blue. The commander had a strict look on his faceplate. What was his problem? Sure, there was a war still going on because since Cybertron, the home planet of the Cybertronians, including the Autobots, Decepticons, and the Predacons, was dead so the idiotic Decepticons moved the war towards Earth when they discovered that the Autobots had been hiding there. Honestly, Megatron was too evil and stupid for actually settling the war on Earth. Earth! The planet was involved in many wars already, especially WWI and WWII.
But let's get to the point: what's been happening?
Well, the Decepticons discovered where the Autobots had been hiding. Before it got blown up, Optimus ordered everyone to leave the base and a serious warning: don't use the phone to call or send anything. If they do, then the Decepticons can track your signal, which can lead a serious danger. Jack went with Arcee, Miko with Bulkhead, and finally Raf with Bumblebee. Eventually, the base got exploded. Optimus got seriously wounded that Smokescreen found him. He was a smart rookie for hiding him so that Optimus can possibly heal and be safely hidden. Sadly, the damage was too much that Optimus was slowly offlining. He didn't want to leave, especially not Y/N. She was a half-Predacon and half-Cybertronian. She was an Autobot. So, it means that Y/N's carrier or sire was a Predacon while the other was Cybertronian. She was found wounded in a forest by Optimus and he took her to the Autobots base. Poor Y/N... She remembered how scared she was when she was there. I mean, she was wounded, lost on Earth, and didn't know anyone. She lost her creators thanks to the war. She eventually learned fast how to take care of herself.
When Optimus met her, he couldn't help but thought that Y/N was a unique and beautiful femme he'd ever seen. I mean, she was half-Cybertronian and half-Predacon. He had seen full Predacons before like Predaking. Soon, he'll meet Darksteel and Skylynx who were brothers. Y/N had wings and a tail so she was very unique. She was thankful to fly and control her balance more. The human kids loved Y/N. Miko, of course, asked too many questions that at one point, Jack and Raf had to stop her since they noticed when Y/N got uncomfortable and scared.
But anyway, that all happened before the big explosion. Optimus grew in fact closer to Y/N that he was the only one at the base who Y/N trusted. She would stay by his side, help him and ask questions. Optimus gladly helped her whenever she was scared or asked questions. He also found her adorable in secret. He sometimes asked himself about her like her wings for example. Were they sensitive? Maybe they were? He will only know if he touched it. If Y/N ever allowed it.
While Y/N was with the Autobots, it didn't mean that she met everyone. She didn't meet Ultra Magnus at the time. He was a strict commander of the Autobots and was light blue and red. His vehicle was very similar to the Prime. His shoulderplates were weird, kinda. No disrespect. But oh boy, Y/N hated Magnus. When he saw her, he was only coldhearted and strict towards her. Y/N's fighting style was dancing but the commander didn't like it that he forbid her to do so. It was like this:
The Autobots just came back after a fight again with the Decepticons. The fight was brutal this time. Apparently, the Decepticons had a new 'weapon' and it was a full Predacon! It was a male and in fact, the ruler of the race when they went instinct many years ago thanks to Megatron himself. Shockwave managed to bring the king back from the dead. His name was Predaking. He was huge! After all, he was a male and a ruler. Since Y/N was half-Predacon, she actually can't transform. Some Cybertronians who were half-Predacons, couldn't actually transform. Some can, some couldn't. Y/N didn't mind that she couldn't transform. She liked how she looked, even having a Predacon tail and wings.
But everyone was wounded. Y/N fought against the male Predacon himself. Their fight was rough and they bit and clawed. But Y/N managed to trick him by dancing. Fighting was a little bit of dancing if you didn't know. You were moving and using your whole frame. It was exhausting for Y/N, but she won.
Ultra Magnus, however, didn't like her fighting style that he brought her into a private chamber. He closed the door and faced her, with his usual strict expression. "Soldier, I want you to change the style."
Y/N lifted her optical ridge up in confusion. What did the commander mean by that? Her armor? Her outgoing? What was it? "What do you mean?"
"Change your fighting style. Also, I forbid you from ever going to fight with us."
Y/N couldn't believe what she heard. Was he really serious? Was he going to forbid her from going out to fight? But what about Optimus Prime? He still wasn't found! He was missing ever since the big explosion that the Decepticons caused weeks ago. The human kids spread around together with their guardians and they weren't allowed to not use any technology or else the Decepticons will track them down. Jack, stupid enough, used his cellphone to text his mother that he was fine. It was understandable for a kid to text its parent to let them know that they were fine. But when it came to the war between the Autobots and the Decepticons, then it was important to listen to the advice.
Ultra Magnus simply left the private chamber, leaving the poor half-Predacon femme alone.
That's basically how it happened. Ever since that day, Y/N didn't come out a lot from her berthroom. She was very spark broken ever since the strict commander told her those words. He forbid her from searching Optimus, who was still missing at the moment. How could he say that? Y/N cared deeply for Optimus just like the entire team. He was their leader but also someone that would protect others and be willing to sacrifice his life.
Y/N would only recharge all day. She ate and drank of course but it wasn't a lot like she used. Basically, how a normal Cybertronian ate. If you didn't know, humans can die from broken hearts. It was in fact a Broken heart syndrome, also known as stress cardiomyopathy or takotsubo syndrome. It was very sad to have that like heart disease. Not only humans can have that syndrome but also Cybertronians, especially the Predacons, full or not. Y/N attracted that syndrome. Everyone says that action speaks louder than words, but words hurt more than actions. Y/N had shortness of breathing and having chassis pains. That was the most common syndrome of heart disease.
Ratchet, the medic of the team wasn't blind at all and was trained to notice signs of any health problems. Since Y/N was showing those signs, he did the tests and diagnosed her with Broken Heart Syndrome or should I say Broken Spark Syndrome? Ratchet kept a close optic on her and made her take medication, especially if she showed signs of chassis pains and shortness of breath.
But meanwhile in the main room of the base...
Ratchet was updating Y/N's health on the Cybertronian computer since it was important for the medics to keep new updates so that they can keep the information. There was actually no standard treatment for the syndrome that Y/N had, but you can survive with medication and as long as you're being careful. Not only do doctors like Ratchet keep updates safe but also dentists as well. Ratchet was mad at Ultra Magnus for saying hurtful words but kept it quiet. It was time that others should watch out for what comes out of their mouths. Words can damage someone and give an illness. He began to ask himself how would Optimus react if he found out about that...
Bumblebee then walked up to Ratchet and beeped a question at him.
Ratchet signed and looked over his shoulderplate. "No, Bumblebee. Y/N is still a little bit weak to come out. I am doing the best I can to help her on track. But her syndrome doesn't have a standard treatment. Just like on humans."
Bumblebee frowned and let out a sad whirl. He saw Y/N as his good friend and cared for her as a friend. He was mad at the commander for saying those words that he nearly attacked her. Didn't the idiotic commander notice at all how much he damaged her? Why was he even doing this?! Just because she was a half-Predacon!? Bumblebee clenched his fists in anger as he started to shake.
Ratchet, being a smart aft medic, noticed it and quickly placed his servo on the scout's shoulderplate. "Easy, Bumblebee." Just as Ratchet wanted to say something further, his computer caught a signal. He quickly went to the device and Bumblebee looked curiously over his shoulderplate.
"Hahaha!" Ratchet began to laugh and clapped his servos happily. That caught everyone's attention as they walked up to him, except Y/N, who was still sadly in her berthroom to rest. She did hear Ratchet's happy laugh, which was confusing, but she didn't bother to check since she felt weak. Ratchet turned around fast with a big smile on his faceplate. "Optimus is alive!"
That caused everyone to cheer happily. Y/N fell asleep at that time. She didn't hear Ratchet's loud voice that said that Optimus was alive and coming soon to the base.
2 hours later~
"Awesome! Optimus is now like 2.0!" Miko happily jumped as she was fascinated by Optimus' new look.
"It's good to have you back, Optimus," Arcee said with a smile.
Everyone was saying how happy they were to see and have Optimus Prime back. The leader was smiling as he listened to everyone with respect. He was happy to see them as well. Even though he was almost offline for good, he thought about others, especially Y/N. But wait, where was she? He saw his friends but not Y/N. He frowned. What happened to her while he was missing? He wondered about her every day. He nearly did join the AllSpark and taking the servo of his mentor, Alpha Trion. The old smart mech understood his student's decision. He even teased Optimus to get the spark of the half-Predacon. He blushed.
Ratchet seem to realize Optimus' frown and he immediately knew that it was about Y/N. He walked up to his leader. "Optimus, I have to speak to you. It's urgent."
Optimus nodded in understanding. Of course, he heard Ratchet's serious tone, which meant that he was deadly serious, especially for being a medic. His job was to take care of others and help if needed. They both went to a private chamber to speak while others stayed. Ultra Magnus, however, got a bad feeling...
Ratchet closed the door and turned to face Optimus. "Optimus, while you were gone, others had a fight against the Decepticons. They had a new 'weapon' it was a full Predacon... a mech. He's named Predaking, the ruler of the Predacons. Y/N fought against him. I must say, I am impressed with her fighting moves. Dancing. Ultra Magnus didn't like her style at all. I saw them going to a private chamber. I learned from Y/N that Magnus forbid her from going out and he forced her to change her style..." He sighed and took a deep breath. "As a result, Y/N has Broken Heart Syndrome, also known as stress cardiomyopathy or takotsubo syndrome in humans. But I called it the Broken Spark Syndrome. She has trouble breathing and having chassis pains. I made her take medication."
Optimus couldn't believe what he heard. How could Ultra Magnus do this? He was getting angry. The commander took it too far by his words. He look calmy at Ratchet and nodded. "Thank you for the information old friend. I will speak to commander Ultra Magnus and see Y/N."
Ratchet nodded back and they left the private chamber. Ultra Magnus knew that he was busted. Optimus slowly walked up to the commander, with a disappointed and angry expression on his faceplate. He took the commander to somewhere private and let's just say that Optimus was so stern. He also finally punished the commander for what he said to Y/N. Ratchet was satisfied and mumbled under his breath: "As humans say: 'Get rekt'."
Optimus then walked through the hallway corridors, searching for Y/N's berthroom. Each bot had a nameplate hanging against the door. It was easier for everyone to find each other, except for humans since they were so small. But good that the kids remembered which room was who. They drew small symbols on each door of the bot. Ratchet got a symbol of a doctor, Bumblebee got a bee, Arcee a motorcycle, etc. Y/N had a dragon, even though she couldn't transform into a Predacon.
Optimus knocked on the door gently as he found Y/N's door. After no response, he softly opened the door and peaked in. He smiled softly once he saw Y/N recharging peacefully. But he was still worried about her health after all. He walked to Y/N, closing the door softly to not wake her up. He caressed her helm with his gentle digits and he smiled once he heard her purr. Predacons can purr a lot. Yes, even Optimus can too but not a lot like the Predacons can, even half ones. Optimus continued to caress as he sat down carefully, lifting Y/N's helm and laid it on his lap. For some reason, laps were so comfy. No wonder humans and Cybertronians fall asleep easily, even falling asleep on someone's body. It was so cute when a male slept on top of the female as a couple or friends. Family too. But mostly, females slept on top of the males.
Y/N softly moaned in her sleep as she moved a bit. She felt very comfortable. But that's when she groaned and had trouble breathing. She panted and Optimus got worried. He then noticed the medication on her nightstand. He grabbed it and then Y/N gasped and sat up, her servo on her chassis.
"Easy, Y/N," the familiar deep voice said.
Y/N snapped her helm towards the very familiar deep voice and gasped. it was Optimus! Wait, he was really here?! She was about to say something but Optimus silenced her by cupping her cheekplate, causing her to blush a lot. He helped her take the medication and soon, she breathed normally. But she felt then sleepy again. Optimus noticed it and softly pushed her down. "Recharge, Y/N. Your body needs more rest."
Y/N smiled softly and fell asleep. She can now catch a lot of rest since Optimus was alive and well. She found him more handsome. His new look, now strong body, etc. But she loved his hips, smile, voice, and smirk. As she was sleeping, she felt soft dermas on hers. Optimus was kissing her, just like in the movie Sleeping Beauty.
I apologize if it isn't familiar a lot. I decided to try and make it a little cuter for the fans, especially the ending part.
#optimus prime#transfomers#transformers prime#tfp#tfp optimus prime#fluff#one shot#romance#x reader#reader#x predacon reader#broken heart syndrome#comfort#missing#optimus prime x reader
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Rating the Books I read after Gideon the Ninth (in order) by how well they made me forget my Gideon the Ninth angst
I starred the ones that I actually recommend if you want something similar to gtn.
I was bored so I made this. Mostly just so I can look back at this and laugh at myself in a few months and remember what I’ve read.
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**Harrow the Ninth -Tamsyn Muir
Summary: A depressed girl has to navigate murder attempts by both the mom and the dad of her dead ex-girlfriend who she can’t remember. She tries to make soup and writes fanfic to cope.
How well it helped me forget: -100/10 but also 10/10
Rating explanation: This one gets a 10/10 because it did make me feel better about a *particular* GTN plotpoint which I was very angsty about, but tragically it did make me more feral. After reading it I reread both books so I don’t think it helped me forget my angst.
Similar themes to GTN: all of it, plus more memes
I Want to Be Where The Normal People Are - Rachel Bloom
Summary: Rachel Bloom who wrote the world’s most relatable song: “You Stupid Bitch,” and starred/created in Crazy Ex Girlfriend, writes about having anxiety, feeling like she’s not normal, and Harry Potter fanfic.
How well it helped me forget: 8/10
Rating explanation: For a few minutes I actually did forget about my griddlehark angst while I learned more about Bloom’s life and laughed at the painful relatability of it all.
Similar themes to TLT: ummm depression, feeling very out of place, memes
Fingersmith - Sarah Waters
Summary: The book The Handmaiden was based on. A girl is sent to become a Lady’s handmaiden to con her out of some money. She falls in love. Many plot twists.
How well it helped me forget: 5/10
Rating explanation: I was sadly still thinking about TLT the whole time I read this. I liked it but I actually like the Handmaiden better because the women spend more time together. Like in this book, I wish that Harrow and Gideon could spend more time together.
Similar themes: wlw enemies to lovers, at some point you realize the main character’s love interest understands what’s going on way more than the main character
Kindred - Octavia Butler
Summary: Very dark book about slave narratives. I cannot make a joke here, but this book is excellent.
How well it helped me forget: 10/10
Rating explanation: Again, I can’t make a joke. But Octavia Butler is amazing.
Ash - Malinda Lo
Summary: A wlw retelling of Cinderella with fairies and an emphasis on stories
How well it helped me forget:7/10
Rating explanation: This was really quick and fun and I definitely was rooting for the lesbians. Also it was nice it had a happy ending! If you liked Crier’s War (which I did), this was clearly an influence for Nina Varela.
Similar themes: wlw, the magic one + the fighting one dynamic
Station Eleven - Emily St. John Mandel
Summary: A deadly pandemic wipes out so many people that the world spins into chaos and no one can figure out how to use electricity apparently? But the book is really about fame and wanting to be remembered. Go figure.
How well it helped me forget: -10/10
Rating explanation: Ok that’s not fair. It helped me forget about Gideon and Harrow but it did NOT help me forget about Corona. It was technically good and a lot of people I respect love it, but either because I was still thinking about TLT or because it was about a pandemic, I couldn’t really enjoy it.
Similar themes: post-apocalyptic
Red, White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Summary: The Prince of England and The son of the president of the US are enemies. They are definitely enemies.
How well it helped me forget: 6/10
Rating explanation: This was such a fun read that it almost distracted me! Tragically I was in such TLT headspace that I kept pausing to read fanfics where Gideon and Harrow switch eyes.
Similar themes: Enemies to lovers, queer
Troubling Love - Elena Ferrante
Summary: In true Elena Ferrante fashion, an event spurs an Italian woman to do a lot of internal processing and have some flashbacks.
How well it helped me forget: 7/10
Rating explanation: This book was a bit disturbing so it distracted me in that way. Plus I love Elena Ferrante’s writing so much that it felt like coming home to an old friend. Unfortunately for me, this is Elena Ferrante’s least queer book. I know because I have now read them all. Her most queer book, The Lying Life of Adults, would have distracted me better. Also just using this space to tell anyone who’s still reading this (probably no one) to go read My Brilliant Friend (and the corresponding Neopolitan Novels). They are not similar to TLT except they are vaguely queer and about competitive friendships where the girls are obsessed with each other in maybe an unhealthy way. Ok so a bit similar. Genuinely my favorite books ever.
Similar themes: mommy issues, daddy issues, childhood trauma
On This Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous -Ocean Vuong
Summary: A Vietnamese immigrant reflects on his mother, grandmother, and his own life experience in the US. It is poetic and beautiful and will make you cry.
How well it helped me forget: 10/10
Rating explanation: This book is beautiful. It really changes how you think about the US. Plus really interesting stuff about the western way of telling stories. Cannot recommend it enough, though very little to do with TLT.
Similar themes: queer, stuff about language, childhood trauma, you will cry
**The Priory of the Orange Tree - Samantha Shannon
Summary: OK sorry none of those were good suggestions for what to read after GTN. THIS is what you should read after GTN. It is an incredibly slow burn wlw enemies to lovers. There are dragons, there is magic, there are very cool female characters who I am in love with. This is like Game of Thrones but if it was good, queer, and only one 800 page book.
How well it helped me forget: 10/10
Rating explanation: Enemies to lovers!!!! What more do I have to say? Also very cool world-building, interesting religious themes.
Similar themes: wlw enemies to lovers, religious themes, magic, very old wizard milfs, also mlm
*The Traitor Baru Cormorant
Summary: Baru is a very smart girl in a colonized island. She decides she will play the game of the colonizers, rise up in their society, and destroy them from within. How is that going, Baru?
How well it helped me forget: 100/10
Rating explanation: This DID make me forget TLT. The only book to truly make me. It made me forget so badly that I wanted my Griddlehark angst BACK. GIVE ME IT BACK I don’t wanna feel sad about Baru anymore. I cannot recommend it more, it is so good, but it did make me ugly cry. It also made me majorly depressed about colonization and the state of the world.
Similar themes: wlw enemies to lovers, ending will make you cry
*The Monster Baru Cormorant - Seth Dickinson
Summary: Baru is depressed, has brain damage, throws up a lot, is sad about (redacted), does some things without remembering them because there’s something going on in her brain. Sound familiar? It’s kinda like Harrow the Ninth but more depressing. Oh also a lot of new characters are introduced, old characters come back, a lot of setup for the next book. Euler’s identity shows up out of nowhere?!
How well it helped me forget: 10/10
Rating explanation: Again, it made me forget but only because I was so engrossed in this story. Also kinda depressed. This book is kinda depressing. But Baru is very fun to be around, and there are some other great characters. Marry me, Yawa.
Similar themes: again, this is just harrow the ninth on steroids, I am in love with every single woman in this series
*The Tyrant Baru Cormorant - Seth Dickinson
Summary: Baru makes a new bestie, reunites with an old bestie, and discovers a dead bestie in her brain!
How well it helped me forget: 1000/10
Rating explanation: I loved this book. There were a few scenes I reread >four times. This book makes the other books in the series worth it.
Similar themes: please see my venn diagram comparing tlt, baru, and A memory called empire for more information
*The Ninth House - Leigh Bardugo
Summary: A girl has seen ghosts her whole life and because of that, gets accepted at Yale even though she didn’t finish high school. Yale is like a hotspot for ghosts I guess. It’s dark academia, the girl has a secret, the narrator is pretty funny.
How well it helped me forget: 6/10
Rating explanation: I was trying to get distracted from TLT (and Baru at this point), but it’s hard to forget about Harrow and Gideon in a book called The Ninth House (hello?). It was enjoyable and there was some good humor. I’m curious about the next book in the series when it comes out. It is not wlw unless you squint (which I do).
Similar themes: debatably wlw body posession, nine houses, the ninth one being important, nerd boy who reminds me of pal, woman is revealed to be MUCH older than I originally thought, soul eating, revenants, tombs, necromancy, character named Mercy
The Bone Season - Samantha Shannon
Summary: It’s the future and London is a hotspot for clairvoyants. Paige is a woman who has a special gift and can jump into people’s bodies and possess them briefly (among other things, this is a terrible explanation). Because of this, she is sent to a secret part of the city where clairvoyants are trained to be monster fighters (but also like, kept there in captivity against their will). Unlike every other book on this list I honestly wouldn’t recommend. I know there are other books in the series. If you’ve read on and it gets better let me know. (I know no one has gotten this far reading this but still)
How well it helped me forget: 4/10
Rating explanation: This one was disappointing because I loved Priory of the Orange Tree so much. This book did not distract me from my griddlehark or barhu feels. There’s also a character named Warden so I thought about SexPal a lot.
Similar themes: enemies to lovers, ghosts, possession, queer but only background characters
****The Unspoken Name - A.K. Larkwood
Summary: A girl is in an isolated cult that wants her to die as a sacrifice (sound familiar?). A definitely not evil wizard helps her escape. She meets a cute necromancer who’s also kinda from a cult. She goes on some gay adventures, gets the help of a morally grey older necromancer (who I’m in love with), and fights with her frenemy.
How well it helped me forget: 10/10
Rating explanation: This is the most similar to TLT on this list. Gideon and Csorwe would be friends. Seriously I recommend this! And the second book comes out soon! And it’s not sad like TLT or Baru!
Similar themes: sword lesbian + necromancer dynamic, wlw enemies to lovers, cults, tombs, necromancy, character named “the sleeper”, also mlm
The Invisible Life of Addie Larue - V. E. Schwab
Summary: Adeline Larue made a deal with a demon in 1714 France, because she wanted to see the world and stuff. It backfires of course. She is immortal but no one remembers her. This causes all sorts of problems and makes her very angsty. The narrative flashes between her going through the years, and her falling in love with the only person who will remember her.
How well it helped me forget: 2/10
Rating explanation: I know people loved this book but I did not. I liked the last 50 pages, I’ll give it that. I wish it was more queer (it was a little queer).
Similar themes: as I said, a little wlw, immortality, demons, I guess falling in love with someone and them not remembering you now that I think about it
Sula - Toni Morrison
Summary: A story about two black women in the 1920’s-1960’s in an Ohio town. It is really great and interesting. It is a book about complicated female friendships (among so many other things that better writers not writing a list no one will read about their TLT feels have outlined) which I love. I was told I should read this after the Neapolitan Novels by Elena Ferrante and it did not disappoint. Same vibes.
How well it helped me forget: 10/10
Rating explanation: This was just a great book. Has really nothing to do with TLT
Similar themes: debatably queer
*Murderbot Diaries: All Systems Red, Artificial Condition, Rogue Protocol, Exit Strategy, Network Effect, - Martha Wells
Summary: Muderbot is an artificial construct who just wants to be left alone to watch tv, damnit! It doesn’t want to interact with humans, and it definitely does not want to talk about feelings. Too bad some humans want to become friends with it.
How well it helped me forget: 10/10
Rating explanation: These books were so good. They did help me forget! The books are really about having anxiety, making friends, and letting yourself have feelings. Also they are SO FUNNY. Highly recommend. In the way that I love Gideon’s POV, I love Murderbot’s POV
Similar themes: funny narrator, queer characters, space, people who don’t want to deal with their feelings being forced to deal with their feelings
*A Memory Called Empire - Arkady Martine
Summary: Mahit is sent a dangerous, evil empire to be an ambassador. Lots of beautiful writing about colonialism, assimilation, language, and culture.There is gay angst and funny characters. I am once again in love with a morally grey older woman character.
How well it helped me forget: 10/10
Rating explanation: Yes this book is great and did distract me from gtn (mostly. I did end up reading a great fanfic about wake, g1deon, and pyrrah in the middle but otherwise...). It is part of my holy trilogy of wlw books (this, baru, tlt) that I just read recently. The next book comes out on March 2nd so it will be a good distraction from waiting for Alecto. Like Baru, it made me feel like shit about colonialism but unlike the other two books in my trilogy (redacted but if you’ve read those books you know) didn’t happen. It had a not too sad ending.
Similar themes: see my venn diagram, but seriously what is going on with brain surgery in these books...
*The Luminous Dead - Cailtin Starling 9/10
Summary: A woman needs money and to get the money she goes on a risky cave dive. It turns out the only contact she has with the rest of the world is a woman who’s kinda a dick. It’s 400 pages of creepy cave diving and these two women talking to each other. It’s creepy and uncomfortable and I loved it. I did spend the whole book thinking it would be such a good story podcast.
How well it helped me forget: 10/10
Rating explanation: It did make me forget about tlt! There are some kinda boring parts but it pays off. The relationship between the two main characters is very interesting (though a bit fucked up).
Similar themes: wlw enemies to lovers, traumatised characters, shitty moms
#book recs#harrow the ninth#gideon the ninth#tlt#the locked tomb trilogy#fingersmith#the priory of the orange tree#the traitor baru cormorant#Baru cormorant#the monster baru cormorant#the tyrant baru cormorant#the murderbot diaries#murderbot#the ninth house#both ninth houses tbh#the unspoken name#a memory called empire#the luminous dead#no one will read this but it is for me!#my rankings
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Growing Pains; Song Mingi
Word count; 21.5k
Genre; Mingi X Reader, Hongjoong X Reader, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, College AU, Angst, Fluff but Barely
Request: “ hey can I please request a college au with #11 and #17 with mingi from ateez! can it also be long and really angsty but with a comforting ending?? love your work by the way ❤ “
Additional; Featured Ateez, Rebound Hongjoong
Warnings; General Angst, Depicts Depression, Honestly Just Really Sad lol
A/N; this took me so freaking long to write, i’m really sorry to whoever requested it dhkdsfsdaf!! i hope you enjoy it! i haven’t been to college yet so this is all based off of books i’ve read or stories that i’ve been told. if anything is inaccurate i’m sorry, i’ll be learning about really soon lol. if you you like this fic please leave a like or some kind words! love you all, happy reading!
It was a summer day when the local neighborhood bullies pushed you off of your barbie themed bike for the umpteenth time. You remember scraping your knee, dropping your strawberry ice cream cone, then seeing the older boys approach you with malicious grins. But before they could fully reach you there was someone else, someone with limbs that were a bit too long and knees that were raw like yours. Any other day you would’ve found it unbelievably embarrassing that this bozo thinks he can handle this situation any better than you. As if you haven’t been handling this for years.
But with him it was different. He somehow scared off the crude boys, then offered his hand to hoist you from the pavement while looking sadly at your discarded ice cream cone.
“I’m sorry about your ice cream.” You remember his voice being creaky, like it was always about to break (which it did, frequently,) “I’ll make you some whenever it snows! Th-that’s the only way that I know how to make it, but it’s really good I promise!” He was excited, almost like a puppy. Some part of you thought that it was cute, the bigger part knew he was probably just pitying you. Pitying you the same way that everyone does when you tell them of your constant bullying, only to forget about it in a week and leave you to the wolves.
“Oh it’s okay, um…”
“Mingi.”
“Mingi!” You repeated the syllables, allowing their taste to form on your tongue. It’s sweet, like an orange soda and going to bed too late, “It’s okay Mingi, you don’t have to pretend like it matters.” Where you thought that his features would fade into relief they pull taught with sadness. He almost looked offended.
“You’re (Y/n,) right?” You nod shortly, eyes welling with tears for no apparent reason, “I-I’m not pretending. It matters.” Something about the way he gazes at you makes you think he’s been wanting to say that for a long time.
“N-not really, they’re just mean sometimes. Besides, even if it did matter no one can stop it. No one’s ever stopped it.” It felt like you’d crossed a line. Cut the cake before you were supposed to, put out words you were meant to swallow down. Tears were really about to start falling, until Mingi took your skinned palms into his own larger ones. The clench of familiarity in your chest is enough to snuff out the stinging.
“I’ll stop it. I’ll do everything in my power to stop it.” He rubbed his thumb over the top of your hand, and it felt so nice. The gentle touch of someone who could be a friend. The notion that someone wanted you. It felt so nice and foreign and familiar all at once. So you nodded.
“Okay.” He squeezed your hand excitedly then surged forward, but stopped just before his arms could take home on your shoulders. You notice that he smells nice, like oranges and cinnamon.
“Can I hug you?” And just like that he’s made his way into the walls that you’ve already managed to build up.
“Okay.”
The boy holds true to his promise when two weeks later the boys approach you in the hallway, all cheery smiles and cold eyes. It’s a common exchange, they show up and tell you that you look nice today or some other fake compliment before demanding that you give them all of your lunch money. Which sounds stupid, until it’s two in the afternoon and you haven’t eaten all day and you won’t get to for another half hour.
But before anything can happen, Mingi is at your side and talking about his advanced math class. You watch as the boys slowly disperse at your friends silly rambling until it’s just the two of you. A deep breath floods your lungs as he softly punches your bicep in a way that’s starting to feel normal.
“Told you so. Do you want to come over for ice cream after school?” It’s silly how the words fill you with warmth, but you don’t even care. Because what you have here is so secure, and you know that it always will be.
And it always is. Mingi’s friendship is solid throughout your entire life, even when you started high school and nearly everything was shaky. Even when he grew out of the awkward limbs and squeaky voice, and all of the girls at your school wanted his attention. Day after day, Mingi would reject their proposals with a simple “I’m busy,” when the truth of the matter was that he would be sitting with you. Alone. In his basement, watching Star Wars on VHS tapes while eating strawberry ice cream and popcorn.
You remember turning to him one night, eyes drinking in the sight of his side profile illuminated by an exploding death star. He smiled widely, clapping his hands the way that he always does at that part. A deep sigh resounded through your chest, causing the boy to look at you with furrowed brows. For what must have been the millionth time, your eyes locked with his. Words weren’t even necessary for comfort.
“Why did you want to be friends with me? No one has ever cared about me too much, so why did you? I didn’t have anyone, why did you want to be my someone?” Your question sounds small, voice wavering gently.
“Maybe I needed someone too.” The response was so quick. Like he had pondered it before. As if he knew every doubt that you were having, and knew that you didn’t need to have them.
From that night on, Mingi was more than your best friend. More than someone who you spent everyday with. No, he became your partner in almost everything. He took you to the school dance, stood beside you at every sports game, spent long nights trying to decipher math problems. No one was surprised when you two started applying to the same colleges, you weren’t even sure that you’d survive living without him. Judging by the pattering of his heart each time you entered a room, Mingi thought so too.
Over the years of close proximity and healthy doses of codependency, Mingi’s feelings towards you had progressed slightly past friendship. Not that he didn’t still think of you in that way, obviously. It’s just that whenever you fell asleep on his chest halfway through star wars marathons he’d have to will his heart to beat a tiny bit slower, or when his family brought you along to the beach he had to remind himself that it was rude to stare. The shift in his feelings started about three months into your sophomore year together, while stuffing your face with greasy fast food burgers after a wildly unimpressive football game. Neither of you ever cared about school sports too much, yet you were present every single week. When Mingi asked why, you claimed it was to get him out of the house. He’s pretty sure it was so that you’d have an excuse to get burgers afterwards, though.
The boy distinctly remembers looking up over his boat of fries to see you with full cheeks, one strand of hair sticking to your slightly sweaty forehead. He remembers the bustling sounds of the diner going silent as his eyes drank in the sight of you for what felt like the first time ever. He remembers thinking that he wouldn’t know how to live life if it weren’t for you. Thinking that life wouldn’t be worth living if it weren’t for you.
“What?” You had questioned, nearly spitting out bits of cheeseburger onto your friends fries. If Mingi wasn’t so infatuated in that moment, he would have been disgusted.
“You’re gross.” He laughed, one hand moving to nudge your shoulder. From that moment on, Mingi thought of you as just a little bit more than a friend. Just a little bit more than a movie marathon partner, just a little bit more than someone to spend late nights with. A little bit more than someone who helped move you into a college dorm, too.
“Who on this forsaken earth thought that loft beds were a good idea?” You heave, flinging yourself onto the elevated mattress. It’s far from comfortable, and you’ve had to carry countless boxes up two flights of stairs due to the lack of an elevator, and the hallway smells distinctly of burnt microwave popcorn, but you have never in your life felt more free. High school was absolute torture, and while you did have Mingi to lean on you were still terribly lonely for those four years. Every other girl had a group to sit with, or someone to drag along to the bathroom with them in the middle of class. Having only one friend typically meant having absolutely no classes with them.
But you’re here now, hundreds of miles away from the tattered building where you used to go to school. The only person on the entire campus that even knows your name at this point is Mingi, which in turn means he’s the only person that knows about your habit of loneliness. You intend to keep it that way, too. Every shy kid hears it from their parents, ‘College will be so good for you,’ ‘You’re really gonna come out of your shell in college,’ but those words meant more to you than an empty promise. In the last few months when you were so terribly lonely that all you had was Mingi and writing until your fingertips fell off, those words were your lifeline.
“Probably someone that didn’t get enough hugs as a kid.” Your friend responds while dropping the final box, which is filled with nothing but fuzzy sock, onto the pile that’s accumulating on the desk that’s squeezed under your cursed bed, “Looks like the last of it.” You nod, cheek brushing gently against the uncovered mattress. It creaks loudly when you shift, which is something you’re sure that you’ll never get used to.
“Are you sure that you don’t want help unpacking?” You barely look up while asking the question, nuzzling even closer into the awful bed. It takes a certain level of shamelessness to sleep on a fully uncovered mattress while a random stranger could walk in and drop all of their stuff on the floor, but you swear to the stars that you’re about there. Mingi appears to be the same way, taking to resting against your yet-to-arrive roommates desk.
“Yea I’m sure, my roommate’s this absolute giant, Yunho I think? He promised to help, so I’m all good.” A hollow laugh leaves your throat, aching with sleepiness. Mingi’s eyes soften ever so slightly before casting to your dirty tile floor.
“Sounds nice.” There’s a nod, then a groan, then shuffling on everyone's part before Mingi is standing in your doorway and casting a soft gaze to your sleepy form.
“I’ll see you at dinner tonight.” A low humph resounds as your answer, but Mingi knows there’s no weight. You’re going to lay on that loft bed, sleeping like a rock until someone bothers to wake you up.
The someone just so happens to be Mingi, five hours later in a fresh hoodie that has your universities name embroidered across the chest. First you notice the perfectly made bed across the room, then the lack of another girl, then the scrent of oranges mixed with cinnamon, then finally Mingi nudging your shoulder from the ground while holding a Styrofoam bowl of hot food.
“D-did I miss dinner?” Your eyes squint harshly, the way they always do when someone’s just woken you up.
“Yea.”
“Sorry.” Mingis heart clenches tightly at your slurred speech, then again at your fluttering eyelids.
“S’okay, I brought you food.” His voice sounds warm, low. Like the Mingi that you’ve always known. You sit up and accept the to go bowl he’s passing up before patting the empty spot next to you. Within seconds the boy is next to you and offering utensils along with his arm around your shoulder, “It’s ramen.”
“Really?” The boy nods, fluffy brown hair falling onto his forehead as you excitedly rip the lid off. The smell of spicy ramen wafts through your otherwise empty dorm, and while it’s not the same as what Mingis mom would make from scratch on Winter days it still fills your belly with an immeasurable warmth, “Have I ever mentioned that you’re my favorite person?” Your shoulders relax thanks to a mouthful of slick curly noodles, Mingi can feel each individual muscle give way beneath his touch.
“Once or twice.”
The two of you spend that night curled up on your bed sharing bites of the warm soup, and even once it’s done and the bowl is disposed of it still feels like old times. His arm is resting around you, the conversation is happening effortlessly, laughter is bouncing from every last tile. It doesn’t exactly fit in with your ‘new school, new me’ narrative, but that’s okay. You can always spend one night in comfort seeing as the following nights will be spent doing thousands of things out of your comfort zone.
When the time comes for him to walk back to his own dorm building, it’s well past dark outside, your clock ticking dangerously close to midnight from its perch on the (useless) nightstand. The boy hugs you in the doorway, making you pinky promise to not sleep through lunch tomorrow.
“I won’t, I promise! Please don’t tell me that I left you sitting alone!” He exhales a short laugh at your furrowing eyebrows, his hand taking home on your shoulder in an attempt to squeeze out your tension.
“Not at all, Yunho has like a ton of friends. They’re funny, too.”
“Really?” Mingi squeezes your shoulder one last before nodding.
“Really.”
He walks home in silence, the beginnings of an Autumn breeze kissing his cheeks. Upon arriving at the dorm Yunho spins around in his desk chair, smirking at the younger boy as if he knows something that Mingi doesn’t.
“Where’d you go after dinner? We were gonna invite you to Wooyoung and Sans apartment.” Yunho leans back in the chair, it’s legs teetering precariously in a way that would debilitate elementary teachers.
“Oh, thanks! Maybe next time, I had to check on a friend.” Yunho quirks an eyebrow as Mingi begins to climb into his bed, kicking his shoes off at the base of the wobbly ladder.
“A girlfriend?” The question should be shocking, Yunho doesn’t even know that you exist for crying out loud, but he is so used to it. After being your best friend and caring for you as deeply as he does, he is so used to it.
“Nope, why do you ask.” The older boy simply shrugs, grounding his chair and picking up a stubby pencil.
“Just an inkling. Lots of girls came up to you in line, you seemed less than interested.” Mingi ponders his response, because what do you even say to that? He doesn’t have a girlfriend, he’s not interested in anyone, he only has you to worry about. You, with your laugh that defines his childhood. You, with eyes that shoot wide anytime you’re worried about accidentally offending someone. You, who wants to make a new person in the coming year; and you, who Mingi wants to convince that you don’t have to change.
“Nope, she’s just a friend.” He decides, the words falling flat in the cramped room.
“Whatever you say.”
Mingi lays sleeplessly in his bed for hours, his head pounding with the thought of how hard your connection with him is becoming. He loves you in more ways than one, but he doesn’t love the ache in his chest whenever he has to leave you. He doesn’t love that way that the weight of your touch haunts him for days, when for you it’s probably just something easy and meaningless. He doesn’t love being less to you than you are to him.
But he does love you, in a way that’s impenetrable and everlasting. That alone is almost enough to make everything worthwhile. Almost.
*
It turns out the whole ‘new school new me’ thing is much harder than you previously anticipated. Naïve senior you thought that maybe you could meet new people through your roommate, but that didn’t exactly work out. It’s been two weeks and all you know about her is that she’s a junior, and that she really doesn’t want to be staying in a dorm.
So, that’s obviously not going the way that you’d hoped. There is another person though, and he’s been a great help in meeting new people. He is a roommate, ironically enough. Just not your own.
Jeong Yunho, sophomore, fading blue hair, cheeks that look like freshly baked bread, brown eyes that sparkle a little bit when you ask about his major (biology, which is something that you know far too much about after a brief stop by Mingis dorm,) and a head that hits damn near every doorway it passes through. He has to duck to get into the cafeteria. But he’s sweet, like the guy who you could ask for help with homework. And he has so many friends, who are all terribly boisterous, that just eating lunch is like going out of your comfort zone.
Which is enough for you, but apparently not Mingi.
It’s a classic Friday night marathon, you already cuddled up on your bed with Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire pulled up on your laptop. The only thing left to accomplish is getting Mingi next to you and watching the movies, but that doesn’t seem to be the plan that your friend has. When he opens the door to your dorm you immediately notice the lack of Harry Potter pajama pants and popcorn. Instead he’s opted for movie night chic, with jeans that have something written on the left thigh and a white t-shirt that hangs off his lithe torso. His caramel brown hair is pushed back in a way that you’re not used to seeing, but it looks good. Attractive, even. There’s something about seeing him all dressed up and handsome while you’re in measly shorts and a platform 9 3/4 t-shirt that makes your cheeks go hot.
“I didn’t tell you before because I knew that you would say no, but Hongjoong and Seonghwa are having a party tonight and we’re going. Surprise!” Your mouth drops open at Mingi’s form of greeting. Before you can even process what’s been said he’s shaking the rail of your loft bed and chanting ‘Get up! Get up!’
“What about Harry Potter night?” You question dumbly while shimmying down your ladder. Obviously Harry Potter night has been discarded in favor of a house party, you don’t need Mingi to say anything to gather that much information, “Seonghwa is okay with a party in their apartment?” Mingi laughs gently, a soft shake of his shoulders and glittering eyes. It’s the only familiar thing about your interaction thus far.
“The boys said that it’ll hardly be a party, probably too few people and too many wine coolers. Maybe some jazz, Seonghwa’s pretentious like that y’know?” He opens your closet door for you and starts to wrack through the few dresses in the very back. You’d never had much of a reason to buy any dresses.
“Believe me, I know.” Seonghwa was one of the first of Yunho’s friends that you’d met, and while he wasn’t an ass about it he was definitely a little pretentious. It’s probably hard to be an art major for three years and not be pretentious, “Do I have to wear a dress?”
“You don’t have to, but-”
Long story short, you find yourself sitting on a suede couch clad in a red plaid mini dress that you only bought for a neighborhood Christmas party in your sophomore year and your one pair of worn leather boots. It’s a tight fitting thing, meant to be worn over turtlenecks and with tights, but Mingi insisted that it would look good alone. He’s not wrong either, ever since you set foot into the surprisingly swanky off campus housing your lunch mates have been showering you in compliments. It started with Wooyoung wolf whistling and asking for your phone number, then Hongjoong asking if he could’ve complimented you in a way that was any weirder, then San giving you a stemless wine glass and announcing ‘A sparkling cider for the lady,’ in the most offensive British accent you’ve ever heard. It was for sure a strange form of flattery, but flattery nonetheless.
“I’m sorry about Wooyoung, he apparently hasn’t been house trained yet.” Hongjoong jokes while settling you onto his plush, red hair briefly sweeping in front of his attentive brown eyes, “Though we can’t really blame him because of the whole sports medicine thing.” You hear a brief ‘I heard that!’ waft from the kitchen, where Yunho and Seonghwa have gathered the majority of the boys. It makes Hongjoong giggle a little bit, and the sound is so clear and gentle that you find yourself giggling too.
“I guess we can’t.” Your eyes move to take in the living room, which is filled with your lunchmates and some extra people who you don’t know in the slightest. First there’s San, your fellow literature major who just switched from middle school education. Then Yeosang, a quiet sophomore who majors in political science. He usually only talks at lunch to tell his table mates that they sound ridiculous, but every once in a while he'll indulge their antics. Lastly there’s Jongho, the only other freshman in the room with you that you know of. You’ve only just finished your second week but everyone’s already expecting him to be the star student of the music program for the next four years.
Everything about this situation reads anxiety. Mingi is already in a different room, you’ve barely held a conversation with any of these guys before, someone in the corner is definitely getting a little too drunk into a ficus tree in the corner of the room. But you aren’t nervous. A little tense maybe but who wouldn’t be? You certainly aren’t nervous the way that high school you would’ve been nervous.
“He’s not wrong, you know.” Your eyebrows shoot up with a quiet ‘hm?’ behind your lips. It’s mostly because you think you’ve missed something that Hongjoong said.
“Not wrong about what?” He looks at you with his brown eyes and a lopsided grin, and when you look back it feels like he’s asking for permission to unravel you.
“That you look pretty.”
It’s not his words that take you off guard, or how he pinches your cheeks afterwards, or even him getting off of the couch and bouncing into the kitchen like a kid coming down the stairs. Your heart barely announces a flutter, your cheeks barely give way to heat. He was probably tipsy. It’s just that no one has ever noticed you in that way. No one other than Mingi has ever really called you pretty.
So it leaves an impression, to say the least.
Quickly after Hongjoong leaves, San takes his place, Jongho sitting on the floor and nuzzling into the older boy's legs. The three of you talk for hours, Jongho sharing your disdain for grumpy roommates (he says that Yeosang throws pillows at him when he starts practicing) and San for Beowulf. He does mention that your creative writing class is fun, to which you agree. Fun, but ever so stifling for creativity.
It’s a simple kind of conversation, the kind that doesn’t tell anything too personal but still gives insight into the people having it. San throws in a few anecdotes about him and Wooyoung in high school, Jongho shows you a bruise he got from fumbling up the ladder to his loft bed. You even include a few of the controversial star wars opinions that you and Mingi came up with at three in the morning so many years ago. It’s simple, weightless.
When Mingi walks you back to your dorm that night he pauses outside of the door, one hand brushing a stray strand of hair away from your eyes.
“Hongjoong asked me about you.” He says, a smile playing onto his lips. Something about the way that it doesn’t fully reach his brown eyes makes it seem sad.
“Really?” The memory of Hongjoongs hands on your face, his cute voice burning the words ‘you look pretty’ into the back of your mind, “W-What did he ask?”
“Just basic stuff. How long we’ve known each other, your major...” He wants to add ‘whether or not we’re dating,’ because that’s the question that struck him the most. Mingi doesn’t know Hongjoong too well, but he knows that the older boy is sweet and respectable. If Mingi explained all of this mess to him, Hongjoong probably wouldn’t think twice, just go about his day and be friendly as always. But Mingi didn’t explain it, he said that you guys are just friends and that it’s never been anything more than that. Hongjoong smiled in a way that made Mingi’s chest ache and thanked him before bouncing off to entertain Seonghwa. He remembers feeling taken aback, then like he should go talk to the pretty girl that’s been eyeing him in calculus, “I can’t do movie night next week. I-I have a date.”
And it’s something about those words that manages to crawl into your body and find a home in your heart, then pump throughout your entire bloodstream. You shouldn’t be upset. You have no reason to be upset. Mingi is your best friend, and you were stuttering about Hongjoong mere seconds ago, and you shouldn’t be upset right now.
“Oh, okay... Just don’t forget about me.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but Mingi looks at you like you’re the moon. With care glimmering in his irises and adoration adorning the glow of his cheeks. You think to yourself that there’s something special in the air, then that you shouldn’t be upset.
You have no reason to be upset.
“I couldn’t if I tried.”
*
The next time that you see Mingi is at lunch on Monday, but he doesn’t take his normal seat next to you. He can’t when you’re already sandwiched between Jongho and San, who are talking in intense detail about their terrible morning classes. Sometimes you can join in, seeing as you and San share classes, but for the most part they just banter. Hongjoong is taking up the seat in front of you, his chin resting on his palm while he nods attentively to everything the younger boys are saying. He reminds Jongho that he needs to be getting sleep, and that life doesn’t happen in practice rooms. He tells San to eat his food whenever the boy gets a little bit too excited. He even asks about your day, to which you respond with something simple and lame. When you mention being tired he gives you the rest of his coffee.
Mingi comes to the table nearly twelve minutes after you do, and it’s not really a big deal that he can’t take his usual seat. There’s a chair between Wooyoung and Yunho at the end of the table, which is perfectly fine. The two of you know each other well enough that a simple look can be translated to ‘It’s okay, we’ll see each other later.’ Which is perfectly fine. You both have a lunch that is perfectly fine.
The week continues on like that, though. Missing each other by a hair's breadth. On Wednesday his intro to statistical methods test goes so late that he misses your scheduled coffee run, then when you tried to surprise him in his dorm later that night, Yunho had to inform you that he was holed up in the library with some of the people in his calculus class (Yunho let you come in and made hot chocolate in the Keurig, so overall the night wasn’t too bad.) Then on Thursday you skipped lunch, opting instead to finish the assigned Beowulf reading at the last possible minute. You hated every minute of it, but not as much as you would’ve hated failing your second ever quiz. San sent you a picture of himself and Hongjoong pouting around your empty chair and Mingi in the background laughing at something that Wooyoung had done to Seonghwa.
Friday night feels more lonely than you had expected. Your bed is empty without the taller boy sitting in it beside you. The movie gets cut off halfway through when your roommate stumbles in and announces that she’s going to sleep, which is the most she’s ever said to you at one time. You turn off your laptop and fall into the uncomfortable bed that you’re slowly getting used to. This is okay. You remind yourself that you shouldn’t be upset and that this is okay.
Right as sleep is about to wash over the room your phone lights up with a message from Mingi. It’s a picture of his hand cradling the chin of a golden retriever puppy, and beneath he’s written ‘we found these dogs in the courtyard. sleep well :)’
After reading the message three times over and staring at the image for ten minutes you start to believe your words. This is okay.
You shouldn’t be upset and this is okay.
*
Your high school had three classes per semester then one free period for a study hall. Mingi would always make this huge deal out of lining up your study halls, claiming that he needed help with his English classes. In reality you were the person that needed help with classes, namely math and science, but he’d always insist that it was because of whatever book he had for assigned reading in the upcoming class.
There was this one semester, though, where you had four classes. Anatomy, geometry, personal finance, and then your absolute saving grace. Creative writing.
It was a true blessing, honestly. Since every other class was absolute torture, and you didn’t really have any Mingi time to take the edge off of your day, that class was your favorite part of nearly every day. You would kind of use it as an escape, just sit in the isolated corner desk, tap the toe of your then fresh leather boots, and write about any and everything that came to mind. The teacher liked one of your stories so much that he framed it.
Seeing as that was your only experience when you saw ‘Introduction To Creative Writing’ on your schedule you were ecstatic. You thought that you’d just get to sit and write anything that you wanted. Needless to say, it is nothing at all like your high school class. The teacher speaks too quickly and assigns nearly a million readings. He waited four weeks to let the students do any actual writing, a fact that San was most grateful for. You, however, were dying.
You think the assignment is kind of stupid, too. Focus on a setting, no characters. Just the setting. It took a while for you to get it just right, but after about a week of staying up past midnight you wrote something that was actually good enough to read. It was nearly two pages about Florence Italy, going in depth about the winding roads. You commented that they were the kind of streets that lent way to deep discussion. The kind that begged for secrets to be shared.
All in all, you were quite proud of it. You even considered showing it to Mingi, until it came back with a bright red C sketched on the front. It was covered top to bottom in red ink markings, none of which were comments about your grammar. No, these notes were personal. This sentence is lifeless. Your tone shift is unnecessary. I’m not sure that this is actually in Italy.
San asked about your grade on the way to your European literature class that day, right as you’re reading over the harshest note of them all. He says that he got an A minus, which makes perfect sense. San isn’t lifeless, he doesn’t do unnecessary things.
“My grade is fine.” You choke out, eyes endlessly tracing over the red notation.
‘This feels lonely.’
In a way, you suppose that it is.
*
“So you did this every single Friday night?” Yunho questions while sandwiching his way onto Mingi’s bed. It would probably be normal to be upset that your movie is being infiltrated by your friends roommate and Hongjoong, but you’re just so grateful for the movie night to actually happen that it doesn’t matter.
“Sounds about right.” You’re about to comment that you’ve skipped the past two weeks, but the words twinge with resentment right as they’re about to come out. So you swallow them down while scooching into Mingi’s side. Hongjoong immediately fills the new space beside you, his hands occupied with fuzzy blankets that have various patterns. One has corgi’s and hearts printed from corner to corner.
“I don’t know if that’s lame or endearing.” The older boy comments while spreading the blanket you’d been eyeing across your lap. Yunho laughs while taking in a mouthful of microwave popcorn, and you think to yourself that this isn’t so bad. Having a movie night with more people than usual is better than having none at all. There’s more snacks and extra blankets now, so you don’t have to burrow into Mingi’s comforter halfway through and tangle your legs together. Because you’ve never wanted to do that before, it just happened out of habit and necessity. Definitely habit and necessity. Definitely.
There’s also not much difference in the essence of movie night. Someone still interrupts serious scenes to crack a joke, you still tell Mingi that he’s breathing too loud, by the time the credits are rolling you still find grease stains on the underside of Mingis comforter. It’s from all of the years of him using the plush blanket in place of a napkin, and the years of you telling him that he’s going to stain it.
Mingi walks you back to your dorm that night. When he stops in front of the door and lets out a deep exhale it almost feels like you haven’t skipped the past two weeks. It almost feels normal.
“I’m glad that at least one of us has a cool roommate.” He comments idly, eyes raking over your growing smile.
“With cool friends.” There’s a gentle laugh, and you’re not exactly sure why. Nothing is funny, just familiar. Maybe a bit tense, though you suppose you don’t know the reason for that either.
“Yea. Cool friends.” Mingis feet shuffle, brown hair flopping onto the bridge of his nose as his gaze takes purchase on the floor. He smells like oranges and cinnamon. He always has. You think that he looks nice like this, with the flickering hall lights illuminating his face. This is probably what Mingi was always meant to look like. Real, and handsome, and grown, “I think we should switch movie nights to once a month.”
And if this whole thing was a little tense before, like an ornament hanging on by it’s hook around one green needle from a Christmas tree, it’s worse now. It’s broken shards of glass all over your living room floor, willing and ready to pierce your foot and stain the carpet. It’s the gaping hole in your Christmas tree. It’s your mom's favorite Santa no longer having a head.
“O-oh... Once a month?” Mingi nods gently. It almost looks like he doesn’t want to be nodding, but he is. He is, and it’s pulling your heartstrings like an orchestra.
“Yea, I just figured that’d be easier since we’re so busy. Y’know, with classes and friends...” You wonder if he’s going to say something else. Like dates with girls from his calculus class. He never does, but you can feel it.
“I know, I-I’m like... Super busy with all of my f-friends.” A heartless laugh leaves you, and Mingi replies with a smile that doesn’t quite crinkle his eyes, “But yea. Once a month, once a month. Once a month totally works for me.” He takes a step towards you.
“Look, (y/n-)” You think that he’s about to comfort you, which of course would be welcome. Comfort from your very best friend is always welcome. It’s just that a small part of you is worried that he’s going to take it back. You’re worried that he’s going to tell you that it’s whatever and you can have movie night every week until you die and that he’s going to live life in college dragged down by your stupid, lonely self. You’re worried that he’s going to drop it, and that you’ll never live it down.
“It’s fine, I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch, yea?” Before the boy can even fully nod, which makes you sick to your stomach for no apparent reason, you’re scrambling desperately for the doorknob to your dorm. You think that you may hear him say goodbye, or wait, or something. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Everything matters. You just want to be inside.
When you get inside your roommate is sitting on her bed with earbuds in, though they don’t appear to be playing anything. She looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, and you can’t really blame her. In the rush to get away from Mingi you probably ended up looking a bit frazzled.
“Um... Are you okay?” She questions, her mouth making a perfect circle. You nod fervently while bringing your palms up to pull at your cheeks. They’re wet. You’re not sure when they turned wet.
“I’m fine. It’s okay.”
Sometimes you say something so many times that it doesn’t sound real anymore. I’m okay, this is okay. I’m okay, this is okay, This is okay, this is okay. Okay, okay, okay...
If your roommate hears you sniffling and shaking while alone in bed that night, she makes no comment. It’s the first thing she’s given you to be grateful about all year.
*
One of your biggest concerns before starting college was walking to classes alone. All throughout high school Mingi would walk with you across the tiny campus, somehow managing to drown out the crowded hallways with laughter and tips for quizzes. When you were taking discrete mathematics he’d walk backwards down the hallway while showing you flashcards.
Obviously you knew that wouldn’t be feasible in college. You might not have known many things before coming here, but you knew that vastly different majors would lead to vastly different classes. You knew that Mingi wasn’t going to wake up at eight am every Wednesday to walk you to your lectures. Knowing didn’t seem to make the actual act of it any easier in your brain.
But after just one week you started to look forward to the trek to your classes. At first it was because you could listen to the assigned readings in the amount of time it took you to get from your door to your desk, however that hasn’t been necessary since your social calendar became suddenly clear. You just do the readings at night in your loft bed, which hasn’t gotten any comfier, then use the walk as a time to relax. To think without impositions, even though they’d find their way to you most mornings.
Today your imposition is dressed in jeans with painting above the knee and a sweater that’s too big, tufts of red hair sticking out from beneath his black beanie.
“What are you doing out so early?” Hongjoong asks while jogging to take up the spot next to you, pulling on the strap of your bookbag as he arrives. When you fully look at his face you can see a dusting of pink across his nose. You think it’s from the light fall wind.
“I could ask the same thing of you.” You think that he looks pretty like this, with inklings of the rising sun taking purchase on his face. You almost think that anyone would look pretty like this.
“I’m out for a walk. Also grabbing muffins from the campus cafe, we’re out of food and Seonghwa’s mgonna be hungry.” His voice sounds groggy with sleep, like maybe he hasn’t been awake long. The notion conjures an image in your head of Hongjoong detangling himself from bed and trekking out to campus all so that his friend would surely have something to eat. It makes this whole exchange just a little bit easier, “Your turn.”
“I have an eight am class.” The boys eyebrows knit together as he looks at his darkened phone screen.
“It’s seven fifteen.”
“... I don’t like my roommate?” At that wimpy explanation he laughs, a gentle laugh that was made for morning, then hooks his arm through your own. The weight is something that you’ll have to grow used to.
“You kids are gonna drive me insane, I swear it.” His free hand pinches your cheek which is growing increasingly warmer. You hope that you two will continue walking like this, quiet and unbothered and maybe a little bit childish.
“Hongjoong?” You question as he begins to pull you down a brick paved road that you’ve yet to travel.
“Hm?” He answers like nothing about this is strange.
“My class is the other way.” The boy giggles at your concern, wanting to reach out and run his thumb over the crease in between your eyebrows. Something about your demeanor, which isn’t far off from a stray kitten, clues him in that you wouldn’t respond well.
“We’re taking a detour.”
“If you don’t tell me where we’re going I’ll pull out my pepper spray.” This sentiment is the first thing all morning that’s made him stop in his tracks, casting a puzzled look to your bulky bookbag.
“Do you actually have pepper spray in there?” You can feel a smile edging on your lips as your eyes click with his, and while you know that he’s not giving you butterflies or sparks it does feel like something. Like the first gulp of soup on a cold day, or the sound of orange leaves crunching beneath your sneakers.
“Tell me where we’re going and you won’t have to find out.” Obviously, you don’t have any. It’s been in your cart on Amazon for forever but you’re not one hundred percent sure about how to order things to a dorm, and you figure that your first package shouldn’t be a literal weapon.
“We’re getting coffee, and you are terrifying.” The comment lights your cheeks with fire as you scurry to catch up with him once again.
“Well you’re the only person that thinks so.” The boy walks so quickly that your feet are nearly going in double time, face puffing with cold air while you speak.
“I doubt that.” You notice that his face is pink again, though you’re not too sure that it’s from the cold this time.
“You’re probably the only person who thinks anything of me.” Hongjoong stutters like he’s going to stop walking again but you tug on his arm once more and he’s back in full swing.
“That’s so not true. Yunho thinks you’re sweet, San says you’re a wonderful writer, Mingi clearly thinks that you’re amazing.” That last statement finds a crawl in your chest and begins to fill your lungs with pink daisies. Amazing. Mingi clearly thinks you’re amazing.
“Sure.” You answer with twiddly fingertips and a thumping heart. Luckily you’re standing in front of the campus cafe before you can think too hard on it.
Hongjoong orders two salted caramel hot chocolates, a black coffee, and three blueberry muffins. When you asked why he didn’t get you a coffee as promised he told you that the coffee here is ass and Seonghwa only drinks it because he’s starved for energy. You don’t have the heart to tell him that the frappuccino you order has so much cream and sugary syrups in it that you could barely even call it coffee, and it tastes pretty darn good. It’s not a big deal. Hot chocolate is good too.
“This is really good.” You offer later while walking through the campus quad. There’s not many people out this early, just a girl you’ve seen in your lecture once or twice and two boys playing checkers on the grass. Hongjoong keeps stepping on the crunchy orange leaves then smiling like a little kid. It makes you think that he’s growing on you, then that you thought that you’d be doing this kind of stuff with Mingi.
You don’t really know why you can’t let yourself enjoy this. You’re in the quad with Hongjoong, waiting out the clock until your class starts, and this precious sweet boy is playing in the fall leaves. This should be a perfect morning, but you can’t help feeling sad. Feeling incomplete.
“I know, right?” He answers, bouncing over to you wearing a bright expression, “Now get up pretty girl, we’re playing in the leaves.”
“I have a lecture.” He takes your hot chocolate and places it on the empty seat next to you before slotting his hand into your own. His skin is soft, like blankets fresh out of the dryer.
“And before that you’re going to have some fun, let’s go!” He’s smiling at you expectantly, so what are you supposed to do other than drop your hot chocolate and join him?
Your first impression is that he plays with people in the way that a puppy would play with another puppy. He’s quite fond of kicking up piles of leaves just to see how tall they’ll go, then you kick them up further and he gets flustered. He then proceeds to throw leaves in your face, then picks them out of your hair before you can get mad enough to throw them back. You think that this is a lot of fun, then that your trusty boots make a nice sound when the leaves crunch under them.
There’s this one time when you try to kick up the leaves and your leg slips out from beneath you, which sends you flailing backwards into the leaf pile. Hongjoong rushes over immediately, his face half concerned but mostly lit with laughter. He asks if you’re okay, though it’s through indecipherable wheezing so you can’t really hear him. The boy is laughing so hard that he ends up laying next to you, red hair and sparkling eyes mingling with the orange leaves seamlessly. You think that he looks like a photograph.
If you show up to your lecture ten minutes late and with crushed leaves sprinkled through your hair, no one mentions it.
*
Movie night with Wooyoung and San is fun. The popcorn is a little bit burnt, courtesy of San, but their couch is far more comfortable and blankets far fuzzier. Sans burning a candle that smells like cookies, and you feel like nothing could be more accurate to him.
“This is nice, I’ve been meaning to rewatch Harry Potter.” Wooyoung comments while sinking in between you and San on the couch. He’s cradling a bowl of slightly browned popcorn and shoving it into his mouth as if there’s nothing wrong.
“Yea, definitely. I like spending nights in.” You’re about to tell them that you considered this a night out, but then you think that’s terribly sad and that you’d sound really lame. So you nod instead.
They’re pleasant movie guests, San makes funny comments every once in a while. Wooyoung starts to fidget about halfway through the first movie so he spends the first portion of the second one making a fresh batch of popcorn. It doesn’t burn this time. Him and San spend almost the entire movie tossing popcorn across the room and into each others mouths. Overall it’s not such a bad night.
When all is said and done and you’re helping them pick up misfire popcorn kernels, the boys get to talking. They ask you what Mingi’s up to that he couldn’t make it to a Friday movie night. You’re going to tell them the truth, that Mingi’s out on a different date with a different girl from a different class. You’re going to tell them, but the words taste so terribly bitter on the way up.
“Um... I’m not sure. Probably homework.” Wooyoung tosses an unpopped kernel so that it hits you square in the forehead. You simply giggle before throwing it into your trash bag.
“We should’ve invited him! Him and Yunho, it could’ve been a whole thing!” San shouts from the kitchen. It makes your skin prick up with goosebumps. Because while you are definitely lonely, and you definitely miss Mingi, you’re not sure that you could handle his response. You’re not sure that you could handle asking Mingi to come to one of your most prized traditions and him saying no. Him saying no because he’s out with another girl and giving her his undivided attention, because that is how he is, and you couldn’t handle hearing him saying no to you. He never used to say no to you.
“I had fun with just you guys, though!” They tackle you in a bear hug, and it feels nice. It really does, it’s just that you still have that nagging feeling in your gut. Like your professor is right. Like you’re alone.
*
Your next ‘Introduction To Creative Writing’ assignment is about characters. The rubric clearly states that it should just be about the people and nothing else. Points will actually be deducted if you mention a setting.
So you wrote two characters, a boy and a girl. The boy finds the girl too bland so he asks if she’ll share a secret with him. She thinks for a long time while the boy studies her face, and he loves every corner of it. Finally, she leans in to whisper something. You don’t tell the audience what she’s said, but you do tell them that it makes the boy laugh. Then he kisses her cheek and they laugh some more, until time dies out and the stars no longer shine. You liked it from the moment that you started writing it, and by the end it was something that you were genuinely quite proud of.
Apparently pride wasn’t enough to get you a much higher grade. It’s passed back looking exactly like the last one, a bright red C and thousands of red notations. You flip to the rubric in the back to see that everything is marked straight down the middle.
You didn’t mention a setting, but you didn’t make the setting irrelevant.
Your characters didn’t interact with the setting, but they barely interacted with each other.
You included characters, but they were not lively and enjoyable.
And you’re not quite sure why everything you write is so dead. You’re not a person who feels dead, you’re funny and full of life. You have things to say that are important so you write them into stories rather than speaking them out loud. You’re good at this, so why are you getting C’s? Why is an old man with a beard that touches his belly button saying that you aren’t good at this?
When you get back to your dorm you rip the paper to shreds and cry alone in your loft bed. Mingi texts you to ask when you’ll be at dinner, you tell him that you’re too busy with homework. He asks if he should bring you something, but you lie that it’s all covered. You’re not entirely sure that you could handle seeing him right now.
When your roommate comes in she seems a little drunk. She clambers over to her bed then finally looks up to you. It’s not your finest moment, cheeks streaked with mascara and shreds of paper all around you.
“You okay?” She slurs out. You think that it’s a dumb question, because obviously you aren’t, but at least she’s trying. Trying is good.
“I’m fine” Right as the words come out you know that they sound fake, but you don’t know what else to do. Normally when you feel like this Mingi is just a phone call away. Every time you’ve tried to call him in the past week it’s gone to voicemail. When a week has really torn you down like this one you’d always have a movie night to look forward to. Mingi made it clear that he wasn’t too keen on that anymore. You usually have your shoulder to cry on. Now you don’t even think you’ll be able to keep yourself together if you see him.
And it’s hard for a lot of reasons. Because you need Mingi but Mingi doesn’t need you. Because everything feels so wrong unless you’re desperately trying to salvage your longest friendship. Because maybe this friendship meant a little bit more than just that, but you’ve realized entirely too late.
*
You usually wake up at seven thirty in the morning. It’s not because you want to, or because your roommate is too loud climbing into her bed at night, or because the sun comes into your dorm weirdly. You just go to sleep late, because you can’t force your brain to stop, then wake up early. Because out of all of the things that are going wrong, why wouldn’t you also get less than four hours of sleep every night?
But it’s not all bad. Every other morning you meet Hongjoong in the quad. Sometimes it’s with a book, sometimes with your latest creative writing assignment. He’ll read them and make comments. He always says that it’s good, and it’s fun to believe him for a little while.
This morning you come to him empty handed, just like he said to last time. There’s supposed to be a surprise. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that you don’t like surprises.
“Good morning, pretty lady!” He’s always so chipper in the mornings, with his eyes crinkling happily around the edges and bright red hair bouncing. Today he’s wearing a puffy coat that’s nearly ready to swallow him whole paired with jeans that have a painting sprawling up the calf. You had recently found out that he and Seonghwa were responsible for the illustrations on everyone's clothes. Mingi gave them his favorite jeans after two lunches spent in the cafeteria.
“Good morning.” You were clearly finding it hard to be as excited.
“Did you read the student newsletter yesterday?” Cold air puffs from his lips along with the words, and his face lights up when you shake your head no. The collar of his coat is brushing his cheeks, “So it’s really a surprise then!”
He’s so precious and childlike in that moment that you decide there’s no harm in indulging him.
“What’s really a surprise?” He’s already started walking so you have to do a half jog to catch up, once you’re at his side he starts to skip so that you have to jog even further. This happens every once in a while whenever your friend is feeling extra punchy. You often find it hard to match that energy, but something about this early November morning has you more present than ever.
“Catch up to me and I’ll let you know.” He reaches into his pocket and appears to pull something out, then hang it over his head. You know there’s nothing in his hand. It’s empty and you know that, nevertheless you chase after him. The boy laughs loudly before sprinting away. Once you’ve caught him you start jumping for the mythical gift hanging over his head, which he finds unreasonably funny. The sound rings off the brick path beneath your feet, and it’s like the sun is finally rising. You think that’s the kind of person that Hongjoong is, the kind that would bring the sun up just to make someone else smile.
When you open his clenched hand he slips it into yours, fingers curling ever so gently around your own. His skin feels soft, it makes you wonder what kind of lotion he’s using.
“I caught up.” Your voice sounds small. Hongjoong thinks it’s bright, “What’s my surprise?”
“There are puppies in the quad, I think they’re up for adoption. I figured you’d like to see them.” He’s perfect. On paper Hongjoong should be the perfect boyfriend. He takes you to see puppies, buys you hot chocolate, makes you play in leaf piles, you’re pretty sure he’s redone his entire sleep schedule just so that you two can keep up with these morning strolls. You so badly want Hongjoong to be perfect.
But there’s just something off. Maybe it’s because his one hand can’t fully engulf both of yours, or because he doesn’t tower over you with what feels like two extra feet. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t smell like orange zest and freshly ground cinnamon.
Maybe it’s because he’s not Song Mingi.
“I would like to see them.” You respond, squeezing onto the boy's hands. Hongjoong is perfect, but he’s just not right, “I’d like that very much.”
*
You’re not quite sure how it happened, but San seemed to notice that your Fridays were becoming more and more lonely. After that one Harry Potter movie night you did with him and Wooyoung in their shared apartment you’ve not really done anything. Hongjoong invited you to another house party, and you were going to go, but when you reached for the handle to exit your dorm you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Something about going and knowing that Mingi would be there, probably with his date of the week, made your mouth taste sour. So you stayed home instead, sitting in your bed and struggling with a creative writing assignment. You’d occasionally snack on some granola bars that Mingi stashed in the bottom of your closet when he moved you in.
Those were your plans for tonight, but San grabbed you just before class ended. He told you that Wooyoung was planning dinner but the recipe serves four so he figured that they could invite you and save the rest as leftovers. You agreed, fully expecting that you’d chicken out at the last second and stay home, yet here you are. Standing in their kitchen while sipping on a shirley temple that San mixed up for you, Wooyoung is occasionally stirring the simmering pot on the stove. San invited Hongjoong at the very last second so those two are sitting at the kitchen table and trying to talk each other's ears off. You find your way into the empty seat beside Hongjoong and let his hand rest on your thigh. He rubs gentle circles on your jeans, and it nearly gives you butterflies.
“Dinner is almost done, would you guys mind grabbing some drinks from the garage.” The two boys nod before scurrying towards the front door and shared garage. Wooyoung takes the seat across from you, “Do you think you’re gonna date him?”
“Who?” You ask, probably in a less defensive way than he’d anticipated.
“Hongjoong.” Wooyoung doesn’t look as playful as usual, the childlike glint gone from his eyes. If anything the boy appears worried, probably for his friend Hongjoong. Part of you wants him to be worried for you. You’ve barely eaten anything except for granola bars in the past week because you don’t want to risk running into Mingi in the cafeteria. Your five hours of sleep every night has been slowly dwindling down to four. Mingi has moved movie night twice this month. You still can’t get a good grade on a creative writing assignment.
“I don’t know.” You think that you probably are. You think that you mostly want to.
“But you aren’t going to date Mingi?” It feels like the air around you is made of cotton, your mouth has gone completely dry.
You don’t know why you’re upset. You shouldn’t be upset.
“No.” There are tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You hope that if you breathe deeply enough then you can will them to stop, “I suppose I won’t.”
The dinner turns out lovely, but you can barely take a bite. You can barely even say another word for the rest of the night. You just tell them thank you, it was lovely, then go home to finish your creative writing assignment. The professor is probably going to write a note that it’s lonely. That’s okay, though. It is lonely, because that’s what you are. Terribly, and irrevocably lonely.
*
A week after the dinner party you and San are partnered together on a creative writing assignment. The main goal is to learn how to work collaboratively with another author, not that you even considered yourself that, and it’s coming along nicely. There are just a few things that need to be cleaned up before it’s due, which prodded San to invite you out to coffee. At least you thought that’s what it was about, but when he takes his seat at the table there’s no laptop tucked beneath his arm.
“A-are we not working on the project?” You question softly, hands hovering idly over your keyboard.
“I wasn’t planning to, but you... You can if you want to, I guess.” He drops his bags and heavy coat in the vacant seat before flipping through his wallet, “You ordered yet?” You shake your head no, you didn’t want him to show up and have you already be halfway done with your drink and then deal with the awkward conversation of how you showed up thirty minutes early because other than meeting Hongjoong in the morning this is the only thing on your social calendar for a week. After that you have movie night, “I’ll get you something. Coffee or tea?”
“Coffee.” When the boy returns to the table, it’s with two steaming mugs, perfect for the frost bitten weather outside. Yours smells like vanilla and nutmeg.
“It’s the shop special I think.” He smiles gently, dimples on parade for the entire campus to see. You think that San has a nice smile, the kind that takes over his face, along with yours before you can even stop it.
“It’s nice, thank you.” Things are quiet for a second while San is putting away his wallet, and for some reason you’re confused. If you’re not going to work on the project then why on earth did he make the time to get coffee?
“(Y/n?)” He asks softly, raising your attention from the untouched mug of coffee to where his hand is on the lid of your laptop, “Are you okay?”
“Yea, I’m good.” The words sound dismissive before they’ve even left your mouth, “Why did you ask to get coffee?” Sans eyebrows raise and he feels a small tug on his heart. He doesn’t understand why he wouldn’t want to spend time with you.
“Because I have free time and I wanted to spend it with you.” You’re not sure why, but it’s hard to hear that. Maybe because you’ve been hiding from life for as long as you can remember, or because you’ve had nothing but free time for a month and you’ve wanted to spend all of it with the one person that will hardly return your texts, or maybe because sometimes those words are hard to hear.
“Oh.” You take a sip of the coffee, it makes your stomach feel warm for the first time in a long time, “Thank you.” San cracks his knuckles while offering up a gentle smile.
“No need to thank me, we’re friends.”
“I guess that’s why I’m thanking you. I don’t have a lot of friends, if you hadn’t noticed.” The boy is looking at you with attentive eyes, and it feels like there’s something lodged in the back of your throat. It tastes like vanilla and nutmeg and thousands of wasted opportunities, “I used to have Mingi, but he’s so busy with all of the classes and... Dates, that we don’t really talk much. I’m grateful that I have you.” When San smiles it’s sweet and genuine and you feel like you are finally doing the whole college thing. The thing where you make growth.
“I’m grateful to have you too, you’re a sweet kid.” If you weren’t so touched you would remind him that he’s only one year older, “I don’t think any of Mingi’s dates have much substance, honestly.” Something about the way he says it makes you think that he’s not talking about the girls themselves. It makes your heart flip.
“How come?” As soon as the words leave your mouth you pray that they don't sound eager. San lets out a heavy sigh and you think that maybe your prayer worked.
“He just isn’t really satisfied with anything. There have been girls eyeing him since his first time in the cafeteria, but he didn’t care much for it. Now he’s decided to take them up on their offers, and yet he still doesn’t seem to care for it. We’ve all asked him what’s up but he won’t say much. Just that it’s not what he’s looking for.” There’s a pointed gaze that says a million things. Mingi hasn’t found what he’s looking for. Mingi is just as lost as you are. Maybe Mingi couldn’t find what he was looking for because it’s always been there. Maybe Mingi needs you as much as you need him.
“Oh. I didn’t know.” You leave the cafe that day with a smile on your face and hope fluttering around in your heart, and for the first time in a long time you think that maybe you can be happy.
*
You’ve been planning this night since the moment you stepped out of the campus cafe with San. It’s probably a little bit cheesy, with all of the contraband candles and what not, but Mingi always said that you went a little overboard on movie nights. Now you’re standing in the center of your empty dorm room, illuminated by tea light candles, wearing the dress that you wore when Mingi dragged you to your first ‘party,’ and your heart all the way in your throat. Because tonight is the night. Tonight you’re going to tell Mingi how you feel about him, and you’re not going to listen to the little voice in your head that says this is probably stupid, and that Mingi showing up over half an hour late is a bad sign. That voice is annoying and has made you wait too long for too many things.
So when Mingi walks into your dorm with rosy cheeks and windblown hair, you let your heart stutter. When his jaw drops open, you let yourself laugh, and when he takes a step forward, you do too.
“What’s this about?” He questions with a familiar deep voice that leaves warmth blossoming in your chest.
“I just...” Your eyes lock onto the freckle on his neck before flashing back up to eyes. They’re sparkling in the flickering candle light, “I’ve missed you. Really badly, Mingi. I miss you in the mornings when I walk to class, I miss you at lunch when I get my granola bars from the closet, I miss you when I’m with my friends, I-I... I miss you on Friday nights. I spend all of my time missing you, and I don’t want to anymore. I’m tired of hiding how I feel about things, like I think that my creative writing assignments are stupid, and I hate everyone in sports medicine except for Wooyoung, and I miss you. A-and I think that I might love you, so I wanted to-” Mingi takes two steps forward, coming dangerously close to closing your distance, and you think that he’s about to kiss you. You think that you’re ready for him to kiss you. You’re heart is beating faster, then faster, then faster-
“Why are you doing this?” And then it stops dead. You honestly think that you might be dead. This feels worse than being dead.
“Um, d-doing- Doing what? I’m not doing anything, I thought you were-” You’re rambling and it’s so awful, Mingi knows it’s awful. His hands are massaging his temples as if this is insanely stressful. It kind of is, but you can’t figure out why he would think so.
“Why are you telling me that you love me? After not seeing each other for almost a month, why are you telling me that?” Clearly, this is not the way that you expected tonight to go. Several of the candles by your desk has burnt out, you feel like you’re about to cry, “I haven’t been lonely, (Y/n,) because I have a-” You feel tears tugging on your eyelids so hard that it hurts. Before you can think about it, and before you can hear whatever he has to say, your index finger is in between his eyes and you’re staring at him like you want to throw something out a window.
“Don’t say that.” It’s probably the most assertive you’ve ever been with him, “I just don’t understand why you’re fighting me on this.” Mingi takes a deep breath before running his hands through his hair. You wonder when he picked up on that habit, which person got to see this before you did. He looks handsome. You hate it.
“I don’t understand why you get to want this now. I don’t understand how I have waited and waited for you to love me back for years, and once I’m finally done with letting you break my heart you get to decide that you want this. I don’t understand how that’s fair.” There are tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, but they’re different from the ones that you’ve seen before. They’re not like the ones he sheds over movies, these tears are angry and unwilling.
“Mingi I-“
“Don’t say that you didn’t know. I know that you didn’t know, because you never wanted to know. You were too scared to know, but I was never scared. I’ve always known that we were right, and you were always scared.” It feels like your heart is trying to crawl up your throat in the worst way possible. Like it’s a spider that you swallowed.
“Mingi that's not what-“
“But I can’t be with you (Y/n,) because I’m done with you being scared. I’ve been done with you being scared for years, and I'm finally okay with being done with you. Let me be okay, (Y/n.)'' There are now tears behind your eyes as well, but it’s not angry. It’s sad, because he’s right. You are really scared, it took months for you to work up the courage to admit to even yourself that you love Mingi.
“What are you saying?” The words are choked and staccato, tears spilling freely onto your cheeks. A brief look at his tear streaked face tells you that he’s known this answer for forever.
“I’m saying that I can’t be with you right now. I just… Can’t.”
He leaves before he can see you sink to the tiled floor, or hide your face in your hands, or cry off all of the mascara you had put on just for tonight. Just so that you could bat your eyelashes at him and give him love until the sun came up. Just so that you could give him your love like flowers and a candle lit room.
But you don’t get to do that. You put on mascara for no reason. Mingi doesn’t want your love, he doesn’t want your candle lit room. He gave your flowers back, and they’re just going to sit on your nightstand until time takes her toll on them. Until they wilt and wither and all of the petals fall onto the floor. You don’t know if you’ll have the strength to sweep them up.
It’s not clear when you start crying, but it is clear that you never stop. You cry for hours and hours until you finally pull yourself off the floor and into your bed. The candles burn themselves into darkness. The room smells a bit like ash. Your blankets are warm. Your chest aches. Mingi is gone. You are scared and you’re alone. You probably always will be.
*
You’re not sure when food lost its taste. When your room lost its color. When your legs became too heavy to move. When sleep became extinct. When it was easier to be in the library than it was to be in your own room. When every single one of your grades sky rocketed to an A while creative writing sat heavily at a C. You can’t watch Star Wars anymore without wanting to throw up. Strawberry ice cream tastes like poison.
You’d fallen asleep on a desk in the back of the library twice before Yunho found you. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do seeing as it was the middle of the day and no one had heard from you for a week and a half except for San, but he figured that leaving a hot coffee by your sleepy head seemed to suffice. If you were tired enough to fall asleep in the library it was probably much needed.
He thought that he’d just forget about that encounter, sweep it quietly under the rug and hope that you started getting more sleep. It was going well enough, until he arrived here. One week later, ten minutes before midnight, you in the same exact position as last time. There were tear tracks in your makeup and black smudged beneath your eyes. He could see the assignment peeking out from beneath your folded arms, ‘Study In Relationships,’ no doubt for creative writing. There are only two words that aren’t covered in black scribbles. You let a gentle snore, and he knows that it’s time to wake you up. To talk to you.
“(Y/n?)” He whispers while gently nudging your shoulder. You grumble ever so slightly before snatching the unfinished assignment back to rest beneath your head. Another small grunt leaves your lips before he calls out your name again, shaking you with a bit more force than the last time. Your eyes flutter open gently and take in the tan walls and fluorescent lighting before you fully register that Yunho is there.
“Hey,” Your voice is gruff around the edges, and you know that if you say too much everything is going to fall apart, “good to see you.” His eyes take you in, sweatpants with countless stains, a hoodie that has a little hole forming in the armpit, your hair disheveled and greasy. He knew that something bad had happened when Mingi came back to the dorm about two weeks ago with tear filled eyes and an unwillingness to talk. You stopped showing up to any of the meals after that, even Hongjoong couldn’t get a hold of you. The blue haired boy would be lying if he said he didn’t worry for you in passing, but all of those concerns were brought to a forefront at the sight of you now. You look, and he means this in the nicest way possible, like a disaster.
“Yea, i-it’s good to see you too.” His hands fiddle with the hem of his sweatshirt, busying themselves so that he doesn’t start to pack up for you, “The library is closing.” Your eyebrows furrow as you suddenly remember where you are.
“Oh. I-I’ll get this cleaned up then.” You don’t know why, but asking him to help feels wrong. You’d like help, but something about his pitying eyes makes you feel small. The same way that you did when those boys pushed you off of your hot pink bike. Like he’s pitying you, except now there’s no lanky kid to save you.
Yunho ends up offering the smallest amount of help possible, just slipping your pencil into your bookbag, before helping you stand. The room swims for a minute before you can walk.
“Can I walk you back to your dorm?” You don’t know how to tell him that most nights you don’t go back to the dorms after the library kicks you out. Most nights you plop down on a bench in the quad and slave over your creative writing journal. Most nights you don’t crawl back into your room until four in the morning, when your roommate is dead asleep and can’t ask you if you’re okay, “Just don’t want you walking back alone in the dark.”
And really, what are you supposed to say?
“Yea, that’s fine.” The two of you walk in silence for a wall, nothing except for the rhythm of padding feet and rustling tree branches. Early winter air nips the tops of your ears while Yunho shivers beside you. You hear him miss a step and you feel yourself choke on a thousand words.
“We’ve missed you.” You don’t respond with the question that you desperately want to ask. You don’t ask if everyone misses you. If a certain boy that smells of cinnamon and eyes that glimmer like childhood misses you.
“Yea. I’ve missed you guys too.” The silhouette of your dorm building is slowly coming into view, you think that it looks different when the world is still awake. Some windows are still lit, people are drawing curtains shut. Normally when you come home everything is dark and unbelievably cold. This isn’t anything special, but it’s a whole lot better than that, “This is me.” You say tersely while slowing to a stop in front of the looming building.
“Yep.” You can tell that he wants to ask you something. Maybe it’s why you were asleep in the library, or why depression wears you like a necktie, or why he hasn’t seen you in the cafeteria for a month in a half. He wants to ask you something, but the way his lips close around the consonant tells you that he won’t.
You get halfway into the door before something tugs at your heart strings, “Yunho?” You call out, turning halfway over your shoulder to see his eyes trained on you. They look sad. You think that it makes sense why, “Thank you.”
He nods curtly, and you know that he’s not sure why you’re thanking him. It’s okay though, because at least you know that he misses you. Before tonight, you thought no one missed you.
Sleep is as rare as ever that night, yet the thing that lulls you to sleep is the same as always. Floppy brown hair, clapping hands, a bad CGI explosion playing off of a crackly VHS tape. He smells like cinnamon and orange rinds, yet when you inhale it’s nothing but your dusty dorm room.
*
The end of the semester means wrapping up many loose ends. You pack up every coat and Christmas themed clothing item in your closet, notably avoiding the dress that you wore for Mingi. You meet Hongjoong for coffee and exchange presents, a pair of customized jeans for you and a twenty five dollar visa gift card for him. He smiled really wide when you told him that it was to make up for all of the coffees and meaningless conversation. You drop the level two creative writing class that was on your schedule. San makes a plan to meet up over the holiday and you agree wholeheartedly. Finals week isn’t all too bad seeing as you’re already getting less than four hours of sleep a night and funneling every bit of brain power into school. The only thing that’s left for you to do is turning in your creative writing assignment, which is both the easiest task and the one that you want to do least.
The classroom is dead empty when you enter, not even your white bearded professor in sight. You scurry down the steps with the short story in hand, a meaningless piece about two strangers who share misty mornings. You hate it, just like you’ve grown to hate almost everything that you create, but it’s an assignment. It meets the bare minimum for what’s required on your rubric. You finished it.
“Miss (Y/n?)” Your body freezes in the middle of the final step before stuttering slowly back to normal. It probably looks stupid but you barely have the will to care, seeing as the thing that you were most dreading was happening. Your creative writing professor is standing at the top of the classroom with his long beard and judgmental eyes, and you are standing in front of his desk with shaky knees.
“O-oh, hi! I was just turning in-”
“Why aren’t you enrolled in my class next semester?” You take in a breath, the air as thick as soup. You don’t know how to answer his question. You don’t want to answer his question. Answering his question feels like letting go of a piece of yourself.
“Oh, I-I dropped it. It’s just that I have other classes I need to take, a-and I’m not all that good so…” Your professor nods before furrowing his bushy eyebrows and starting slowly down the stairs. Each of his forward steps causes your heart to thump.
“Who said that you aren’t good?” He questions, continuing down the steps. You clench the assignment in your hands and watch as the paper creases beneath your thumbs. When you look at the pages they’re clear, nothing but your words and margins, but when you think about what it’ll look like in a week you want to cry. It’ll be marked in red, with a fat red ‘C’ circled on the title page.
“I-I just, I never thought, Y-you said-” The professor is now standing in front of you with folded hands, his expression of confusion shifted into concern.
“I never said that you aren’t good.” You breathe in again, the air thin enough to actually intake this time around.
“You didn’t?” He shakes his head before pulling the crinkled assignment out of your hands.
“No, you show great promise as a writer! Your writing is… lacking, but it’s only in one area that can be easily improved upon. No great writers start out great, but all great authors show their flaws at one point.” Tears prickle the back of your eyelids, and it feels like there’s a little hand grappling onto whatever you thought you’d have to let go.
“Miss (Y/n,) I’m trying to say that failure is okay. Getting less than a ‘B’ on your paper is okay, but you can’t stop trying.” He’s right, a part of you has known for a while that he’s right. Just because you got a bad grade in this class doesn’t mean that you’re bad at writing. Just because Mingi said no doesn’t mean that you’ll never feel deeply again. It just means that you need to keep trying.
“Oh, um… Thank you.” You’re not sure what else to say. There honestly isn’t much else to say, so you give him a short nod and head towards the stairs. You think that you’re going to head back to the dorm and cry on your bed, which is stripped of its duvet and most of the pillows. You think that you’re going to ask if you can have this class added back to your schedule. You think that you might speak with Hongjoong more often once your break is over.
And sure enough, your spring semester begins with Hongjoong walking you across campus and to your second level creative writing class. The month away seems to have done good for the both of you, Hongjoong returning with dozens more customized clothing items and you with slowly disappearing eye bags. His hair is also faded into a lighter pink shade, which you think suits him quite well.
Your walk to class is uneventful, riddled with small talk and basic catching up. Near the end he slips his arm beneath your book bag and around your waist, which feels nice enough. His arms are stronger than you expected. The half embrace is not unwelcome. When you two are standing outside of the quickly filling classroom he takes your hands into his own for a brief moment before asking if you’re free for coffee after class. You want to make up an excuse for why you can’t go, because you know that this isn’t just two friends going for coffee, but when you look at Hongjoong there are sparkles in his eyes. Pink hair tickles his cheekbone as he smiles warmly at you, and you find yourself thinking that his confidence right now is commendable. You also find yourself saying yes, you can definitely get coffee with.
It’s a fun outing. He cracks a few jokes, you talk about class. He asks if you have any assignments and you say not yet. When he orders an iced coffee you ask if he’s trying to get frostbite, to which he laughs and pokes out his tongue. You think that he looks cute. You think that all of this is kind of cute.
You also think that when you’re with Hongjoong, and he’s making you laugh and holding your waist, it’s very easy to forget about how badly you miss Mingi.
*
When you agreed to re-enroll in your creative writing class you and your professor exchanged a number of emails. First about how you could improve your grade, then about how to improve your writing, then countless of other questions with ambiguous answers before the two of you finally settled on having weekly meetings. It would be sort of like he were your personal advisor, but only for writing. You would come into his office once a week to discuss your current project and he would read it over, ask if you had concerns, usually give some feedback.
Within the first week it was clear what your most reoccurring critique would be. It was a mantra echoed many times, ‘To write life you have to live it.’ He said that your writing was good, pretty, but the characters lacked life. Then he asked if you could try to spend a little more time with people. It didn’t have to be much, but he was convinced that a bit more people time would improve your writing greatly.
It’s been a month or so since that first meeting, and you weren’t sure if you agreed yet. You were spending almost everyday with Hongjoong, sometimes Seonghwa as well. You were definitely more tired each time you came home, but you also smiled more. Laughed more, too. They would often ask you for help with silly things, like the time that Hongjoong called you at midnight because he needed help touching up his hair, Seonghwa often asked you to mix his paints. It often felt like you were their third roommate, but it was okay. You had fun.
Yet you didn’t see much improvement in your writing. There were still notes in red ink on your paper. You weren’t sure of the remedy you should apply, but more people time seemed like it wouldn’t hurt. So you set up daily lunches with Yeosang and Jongho, which was an interesting dynamic to say the least. Jongho would sit down most days and chug an entire reusable cup of green tea with soy milk before getting lunch, to which Yeosang would furrow his eyebrows and comment ‘I don’t know how he drinks that.’ Usually the younger boy would talk animatedly with you about classes then he’d ask if Yeosang had anything going on. Your dark haired friend would look up from his half inhaled plate of food with deep set eye bags and say that he had at least three papers to write. One time you asked if he was okay, but he just laughed and blamed it on his major. After that your writing seemed to improve greatly, at least according to your professor. He told you that it was starting to come alive much quicker. The only thing he had left to say was that your more gentle characters needed work. He said that they needed to be more than just gentle.
Running into Yunho in the library after that meeting was pure coincidence. You were headed to the back to start cracking down on some of your more challenging classes, namely entrance level biology, yet when you dropped your bag on your usual study table you noticed someone was already there.
“Oh, I’m sorry! I’ll just-”
“(Y/n?)” He asked while turning to face you. It suddenly hit you that the last time Yunho had seen you was while you were at your absolute worst. Not sleeping, or eating, or talking to anyone but yourself. You don’t know if he’s going to let that version of you go. You only know how badly you want him to.
“Yea, it’s me.” The words tug on your vocal chords so you cough lightly in an attempt to clear them, “How are you doing?” He twirls the blue gel pen in his hand for a moment before responding.
“I’m okay. The usual kind of busy, my room’s been messy lately. Just normal stuff.” Quiet settles over your conversation so that you’re left standing awkwardly in front of his neatly organized table. You’re not sure why you can’t bring yourself to speak, but you are sure that it has something to do with the fleeting thoughts of the boy that Yunho’s sharing that messy room with, “What’re you working on?” He asks, motioning with his gel pen to the stuffed folder in your hands.
“O-oh just some biology stuff, I have a quiz next week so…” Before you can say otherwise he’s clearing off a spot on the table and telling you to pull up a chair. He helps you with pretty much every half finished assignment. He even adds extra cheat codes onto your flash cards in crisp blue ink. As you’re leaving the library to get dinner with Hongjoong he tells you to meet him back here after your quiz.
“After all, I’d like to know how my best student is doing.” Weekly study sessions honestly come about naturally. He insists that he’s beyond happy to help, and you’re beyond happy to observe him. Listening to him talk is your favorite part. He’ll ramble on about a lab or being worried that someones going to steal his bike from in front of the dorms. He tells you that he thinks Hongjoong will ask you out, you tell him that you know. He says that your handwriting is pretty, you thank him. When he talks about things that make him angry his words are gentle and calculated, so as not to hurt people that aren’t even present. Needless to say, the red ink marks are few and far between after factoring this newfound knowledge into your pieces.
But you think that it’s a bit more than that too. For the first time in… Ever, you think, you’re happy. Not in a fleeting way that depends on strawberry ice cream eaten on Friday nights. You’re happy in a way that’s hard to tumble, and you’re happy in a way that’s without Mingi. You never thought that you would be happy without Mingi. All throughout high school you feared this very thing, having to live without him and be okay with it. Now that you’re doing it, it’s not all that scary.
You still see Mingi around campus from time to time, in curls of chestnut hair and broad shoulders. Sometimes when you’re walking to class with Hongjoong you can hear his laugh bouncing from the surrounding buildings. Part of you wonders if you’re just conjuring him up. Part of you wonders when it’ll stop.
Hongjoong does ask you out, just like Wooyoung, and Yunho, and everyone predicted. You say yes. You laugh with your friends until your sides hurt. You share kisses with your boyfriend. You start to feel excited about life in a way that you never have, and a part of you honestly wonders if this whole thing with Mingi was just a growing pain. Something that needed to happen in order for you to change.
The aching of your chest at night says otherwise. But believing as much is easier to stomach.
*
You’re relaxing at Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s house when a nerve is struck. You'd been sitting at the table chatting with Seonghwa while Hongjoong made himself something for lunch. It was really an accident, you had just been telling Seonghwa about your study session with Yunho when he got onto the topic about an awkward study date he had been on recently. You laughed as he recounted it and assured him that a study date was a cute first date.
“I’m sure it’s not as cute as whatever you and Hongjoong did.” And that’s when it happens. The chord is played, the line is written, and Hongjoong was looking at you with wide, apologetic eyes, “Y-you did have a good first date, right?” Your boyfriend said nothing, just bit his lower lip and returned his attention to the stove, “You’ve been dating for a month, you had to have had a first date. Right?”
“I’m sure that we will.” The tension that followed your meek statement was painstaking. First Hongjoong inhaled sharply through his nose, then Seonghwas mouth pressed into a thin line while his eyebrows raised. He muttered some nonsense about needing to get started on his painting for realism class. Apparently he was in such a rush to leave that he forgot that he wasn’t even taking a realism class, “Look, Joong we don’t have to-”
“Do you want a cutesy first date?” He asked, turning away from his food once again so that his eyes could bore into your own. You weren’t sure if his voice was stern in that moment or sincere, either way it was maddeningly effective.
“I mean… It would be nice.” He raised an eyebrow and nodded with his tongue in his cheek before returning to his food. Once it’s done and the fragrance is drifting from his workplace and towards the table, he takes the seat across from you. You’re about to say something but then he presses a swift kiss onto your lips.
“Then you, my darling, are getting just that.”
A cutesy first date, with your sweet boyfriend who brings you tons of joy. It sounds great in theory, except for the fact that it’s been a week since your conversation and he still refuses to tell you when or where the date will be. Some may say that it’s romantic, but you say that it’s stressful. Pretty much every time that you leave your dorm room you end up seeing Hongjoong, so pretty much every time that you leave the dorm room you’re fully dressed and ready to go out. You’re starting to think that he’s finding joy in your suffering. It’s not too drastic of a belief, seeing as every time that you open your dorm room in a new outfit he giggles and whispers ‘cute.’
The miniature cat and mouse game finally comes to an end about a week and a half later, when he texts you Friday morning that you should wear something cute today and to be ready for pick up at five thirty. Though, the suffering doesn’t really end because in reality you spend the entire day raking through your closet for anything that could possibly make a cute outfit. There’s the cursed red plaid dress that you wore to that house party and awful confession oh so many months ago. You figured that was a no go, but honestly what else did you even have? There’s a uniform skirt that you bought while thrifting with Hongjoong, but you weren’t sure what shirt to wear with it. Your favorite jeans were in the wash so those obviously weren’t an option. It looked like it was going to have to be that dumb little dress.
But it’s not so bad, you manage to pair it with a black cardigan and the pair of leather boots that your mom got you for Christmas to replace the old ones. You also do more makeup than last time, so it really doesn’t look all that similar. When you look in the mirror before answering Hongjoongs knock you’re barely even thinking about the last night that you wore the dress. You’re thinking about tonight… Mostly about tonight.
You open the door to see your boyfriend wearing a black button up and blue hair that catches you off guard. His hands are shoved cutely into his pockets, you can see his thumbs twiddling from inside his jean pockets. The moment that his eyes take in your frame his face breaks out into a wide smile. It’s a familiar smile at this point, he wears it around you constantly.
“You look amazing.” He says beneath his breath. You watch with twinkling eyes as he examines every one of your features, your smiles growing with each passing moment.
“You’re not too bad yourself.” You're not sure what to do past this point. He’s said that you look nice, you’ve internally fawned over his new hair that looks so incredibly soft, you’ve looked each other once or twice and smiled. You don’t know if you’re supposed to kiss him now, or hold his hand, or what. This is all quite new, “Um, should we get going?” He looks back at your face with a jump, as though your question had pulled him out of something. You’re going to ask what, but you aren’t quite sure how to get the words out.
“Yes, yea! I-I’ll lead the way.” After five minutes of walking around your familiar campus you arrive at the shuttle. You’ve only taken it once or twice in your time here, mainly to get to Hongjoong’s house at the edge of campus, but you do know that on weekends it will take you into the nearby city. There’s only one seat left by the time that you get on, so of course Hongjoong let’s you have it and opts to stand instead.
“You can sit if you want to.” He immediately shuts down your offer with a quick peck to your lips and a sweet giggle that you’ve grown to adore.
“It’s our first date, I can’t have you thinking that I’m anything less than a gentleman.” If he weren’t so endearing you’d point out that you’ve been together for over a month. But he is endearing, so you only laugh and take hold of his hand.
The date ends up being pretty much perfect. He takes you to a small cat cafe that’s tucked away on the downtown streets of the city, something that you didn’t even know existed until this very night. The inside is fully decorated in light pink with white lighting that highlights your adorable boyfriends features. He’s so sweet the whole time, smiling and letting the cats curl up in lap. The two of you share a piece of cake, he smears a little bit of the stiff frosting onto your nose. It’s cute. Sweet. You return to the dorm room with hot cheeks and a bashful grin.
“I had a lot of fun.” You say to him while leaning up against the doorframe of your dorm room. He smiles, but it’s different from the smile that you usually see. He’s usually so confident and sure of himself, but in this fleeting moment you can see unsureness in his features. It’s almost like he didn’t think you’d like the date.
“Yea?” You nod as quickly as he can ask. It’s not clear why, but you feel the need to assure him that you enjoyed your time together, “I’m glad. We could do something like this every week, you know?”
The response isn’t as quick this time, or as adamant. You want to say yes. You had fun tonight, you enjoy spending time with Hongjoong, you want to say yes. But there’s something holding you back. It’s gentle, tugging on your heartstrings like a haunting winter melody. It tastes of strawberry ice cream, and smells of Song Mingi’s basement. You still remember the first time that he proposed a weekly movie night, all those years ago. You still remember how wanted it made you feel. At times you wonder if anyone will make you feel as wanted as Mingi did.
You’re starting to wonder that now, even as Hongjoong catches his thumb beneath your chin so as to tilt your chin up. The thoughts don't waver until your eyes meet, and you think that you’re probably right. No one will make you feel as wanted as Mingi; but Hongjoong does make you feel wanted. It’s not as overwhelming as Mingi. It’s not as safe as Mingi. It’s not as fateful as Migni. But it is there.
“What do you think? About the weekly thing, I mean. Like how does that sound?” Mingi was everything to you. In many ways he is still, but he’s also gone. Hongjoong is most things, but at least he’s here.
“It sounds lovely.”
*
You’ve spent a lot of time thinking in the past few weeks, pretty much ever since Hongjoong started with the dates. It’s mostly when you come back to your dorm after them and lay belly up on your loft bed, eyes glazing over the ceiling tiles that you’re pretending to count. Sometimes you think about Hongjoong, the way that his smile overpowers his face. The way that he laughs whenever he flusters you. The way he takes time out of his week to plan these cute little dates with you. Sometimes you think about Hongjoong. But most of the time you don’t.
Most of the time you find your thoughts wandering far out of reach, and most of the time they wander straight into Song Mingi. It starts with thinking that you miss his presence, the way that he jumps to help anyone with anything. The way that his eyes shine each time you call out his name. You miss the way that he gives hugs, all warm and inviting. Some nights if you focus hard enough you can even remember the way that he smells. Orange zest and cinnamon.
If you’re honest with yourself, you know that this isn’t fair to Hongjoong. You like him well enough, but he adores you. He calls you darling and kisses you as though the action is sacred. He always walks you home after every date even though his own house is so far away. In theory, he is perfect. You’ve been dating for close to two months, you should be fully head over heels by now. But you can’t give that to him, and you know it. You also know that you can’t be alone again.
“Darling?” Hongjoong questions, pulling you away from your thoughts and back into the present. The two of you are cuddled into a far corner of the couch, midday sun pouring through the tall windows and landing across your boyfriend's face. You were watching the light dance in his eyes and talking about your latest creative writing meeting, but then he started talking about having another dinner party at the house. He said that it’d be like the one that he and Seonghwa hosted at the beginning of the school year, where you came with Mingi. It’s kind of funny honestly, because he regards that as one of the nights where he first started to like you. You regard it as one of the nights where Mingi first started to hate you, “Is everything okay?”
You should tell him no, because that’s the truth. You’re not okay. You don’t know if you’ll ever get over Mingi. You don’t think that you’ll ever love Hongjoong the way that he so clearly loves you. You shouldn’t lie to him. You should tell him no.
You also shouldn’t be alone again, right?
“Yea! I’m just tired. That’s all.”
*
In retrospect, you should’ve asked Hongjoong to not invite Mingi to this house party. It would’ve sounded odd, sure. As far he knew you and Mingi were still friendly. Had you requested that Mingi wouldn’t be invited you probably would’ve ended up having to rehash the entirety of your history. It would probably leave your boyfriend questioning whether or not you still had feelings for Mingi, a question that you’d have to lie through your teeth to answer. It would’ve been a little bit awkward, sure. But at least you wouldn’t be where you are now.
You fall gracelessly onto Hongjoongs unmade double bed, hands flying up to cover your flustered face. Mingi arrived at the off campus house nearly two hours after all of the other guests. There was an small window where you thought that you were safe, in which you took time to talk with San and Wooyoung while grazing over the cheese board that Seonghwa had set out. You felt like a true adult in that narrow window, the kind that works a nine to five job and deals with their problems. Then Mingi arrived. Two hours late.
You watched carefully as his eyes bounced around the room. They landed first on Yunho, who engulfed the boy in a warm hug before returning to his previous conversation. Then they traveled to the sectional couch in the living room where Seonghwa sat with Yeosang. He offered them a short greeting while walking through the living room, face crinkling with laughter at something that Yeosang had said. You find it comforting that after so much time apart his laughter hasn’t changed. He filtered naturally out of the conversation before moving to stand beside the tv. You watched his eyes move deftly across the open floor plan and began to wonder what he’s looking for so eagerly. Maybe it’s the girl from his math class. Maybe it’s someone entirely different. His gaze wandered and wandered, covering every corner that it could reach before finally landing. Before finally landing on you.
His eyes were piercing yet kind, stripping away the facade that you had previously believed. You aren’t an adult. You’re a little girl that got pushed off of her barbie bike and had to have a lanky preteen come to her rescue. You’re the idiot who lit dozens of tea light candles in her dorm room just to be turned away. It feels like you’re being stripped of your skin, but it also feels like you’re being reminded of yourself.
“Are you okay?” Jongho asked. You were so occupied with Mingi that you didn’t even realize he had joined. His question was sobering though, pulling you back to the harsh reality that you are okay. And you’re okay without Mingi.
“Yea, I’m fine.” You tore your focus back to the group in front of you, who were all staring at you. They clearly didn’t buy your answer, and you didn’t blame them too much. Anyone who didn’t know you could see that you were distressed, so clearly three of your close friends could tell, “I-I just realized that I have a paper due tonight. I’m gonna go finish it in Hongjoong’s room.”
You now find yourself praying that Hongjoong won’t try to come and find you. You don’t know how to lie about this to him. You don’t know how to look him in the eyes and make up a reason for why you freaked out and left the party. By some terrible coincidence the door handle starts to jiggle. You want to say that you think through all of the possibilities of what you’ll say to him, but in reality there’s only one option of what you’ll say. The truth. If Hongjoong were to come into his room right now and ask what’s wrong you would have to tell him the truth. That you love Mingi.
“Hey honey, I had a paper to finish and-” The person that comes through the narrow doorway is much taller than your boyfriend. His shoulders are broader. The slope of his nose goes down further. Even from here you can smell brown sugar and oranges, “Oh. It’s you.” He looks handsome as ever. His cheeks may be a bit slimmer, the bags beneath his eyes are a bit deeper, but he still looks like Mingi. His face is still your childhood.
“Yea. It’s me.” Silence falls over the room, squeezing tightly around the chords of your throat to the point where you think that they’re going to break, “I-I just saw you come in here and-”
“I have a paper.” He swallows harshly, hands shoving into his pockets as his eyes stay glued to the floor. You find that bit funny, seeing as when you were outside he wanted to look nowhere but you.
“Right. A paper. I’ll leave you to that, then.” He’s moving to leave, and in that moment you know nothing. You’re not entirely sure what your name is, or where left is in relation to right, but you do know one thing. You don’t want Mingi to leave. You don’t want him to leave. He’s barely been here for two minutes. You haven’t said a single thing that you wanted to say. He can’t leave.
“Wait!” The boy stops in his tracks before turning. His eyes finally meet yours again, they’re questioning and so gentle that you almost think things could go back to normal, “I don’t have a paper due tonight. Well, I do but I did it two days ago. It’s just that when I saw you I-I… I panicked. Probably because we haven’t seen each other in months. Probably because I really, really, miss you.” Your eyes are slowly becoming tearful, but you really don’t want them to be. You’ve shed so many tears over this relationship. You should be able to do this. The fact that he’s not saying anything doesn’t make it any easier, but still. You should be able to do this, “You don’t have to say anything, I guess, but I-I’m glad that I said it. You were my best friend, I’ll always think of you in that way. I know that we’ve both said… Things, and I get that you might not be able to move past that, but I’m willing to. If it means that we can be friends again, I’m willing to.” Your eyes somehow became glued to your twiddling thumbs over the course of your speech. You don’t think that you’re going to move them, until you feel a pair of strong arms embracing you. He smells so good, like he always does. This one hug feels like all of the comfort that you’ve craved for the last six months. Like the comfort that only Mingi can bring you.
“I’ll move past it. I-I’ve missed you too.” His voice is low, crackling like a fresh log that’s been thrown into the fireplace. You spend the following two hours in Hongjoongs room. You’re curled up on the bed and he’s in front of the disheveled desk. It’s dodgy, you know that it is, but something about really being here with Mingi makes you forget about all of that mess. It’s much easier to forget about it. You eventually return to the party, floating in between conversations with all of your friends. It’s nice to not have to avoid Mingi. At one point Hongjoong joins your conversation with Mingi, San, and Wooyoung. He puts an arm around your waist, which you should enjoy. You would like to enjoy it, but your mind is slightly preoccupied.
“Where’d you go earlier, darling?” He whispers into your ear halfway through a drawn out story that San is sharing. He’s always been awful at telling stories, but he gets so excited that everyone lets it slide.
“Oh! I just had a paper that I needed to finish, so I went and did that in your room.” He wants to ask why you had to do that with Mingi, but then the other boy starts to laugh and he knows the answer. Based entirely off of the way that you look at him, Hongjoong knows.
Once everyone has left and you’ve all shared your goodbyes, Hongjoong suggests that the two of you clean up the living room together. It was an hour or so of silence before he brought up the elephant in the room.
“I’m not it for you. Am I?” You don’t know why you thought he’d be angry with you. Probably because he’d have every reason to be so. But this is Hongjoong. You could single handedly send the world into ruin and Hongjoong still wouldn’t get mad at you.
“I really want you to be.” You’ve stopped cleaning now, hands lying limp over the small stain that you were previously scrubbing off of the couch. Getting dumped isn’t going at all how you always thought that it would. It doesn’t feel like your heart is being trampled. You don’t have the compulsive urge to cry. No, none of that. It just feels like you’re explaining away a weight that’s been on your chest for months, “Does that make sense?”
“I think that you wish you wanted me. I think that you wanted me more than you wanted to be alone.” He’s started to play with the strings of his hoodie in a hopeless attempt to calm his raging heart, “But you’re not alone anymore, are you?” You could pretend that you don’t know what he’s talking about. You could deny it, but in reality there’s no point to any of that. It would only prolong all of this, so you nod, “Yeah. Thought so.”
When you say goodbye to him he hugs you tighter than usual, you think for a minute that he’s going to tell you something else. He doesn’t. Just kisses your forehead and says to get home safely. You do, it’s a mere twenty minutes before you’re tiptoeing into your dorm room and up the ladder to your bed. It almost gets to the point where you pretend to count ceiling tiles, but then your phone buzzes from beneath your pillow. It’s a text from Mingi, a short and sweet message.
‘I’m glad to be your friend:)’
It’s probably stupid, seeing as the night ended on a terribly sour note, but those few words and that silly emoticon makes it feel like this entire year has been worth it. Because you have Mingi again, and there’s no way that you’ll lose him this time around.
*
After the breakup with Hongjoong, you were slightly worried that no one would want to be friends with you anymore. It would certainly be a fair decision on their part, seeing as you were beyond awful as a girlfriend. You thought that in Hongjoong’s healing, he would end up telling some of the worst things that you did to some of the people whose opinions matter the most. You’re not sure why you thought that, perhaps because it’s what you would’ve done if someone did this to you.
You’re more immature than he is, though. Hongjoong handles his feelings with grace. His words are unbelievably careful whenever he shares them, or at least that’s what Seonghwa says. He also says that he misses having you around to mix his paints and clean his brushes. You had told him that you were just glad that he still likes you, even if the wounds were only a month old.
There was also the ever present worry that Mingi would ask why you and Hongjoong split. You’ve thought of plenty of fake reasons, like saying that the two of you didn’t really click. Or you could keep it simple and say that it just wasn’t the right time for either of you. The options were endless, but there was the problem of Mingi being able to read you like an open book. He would surely know that you’re lying, possibly before you even opened your mouth. The main risk involved was whether or not he’d pester you for the truth.
That constant fear was not helpful for a regrowing relationship, to say the least. You’ve hung out a number of times since reuniting, but he would always ask you about what you did in the months that you spent apart. Obviously, mentioning the end of first semester was strictly off limits. The rest of the time you spent with Hongjoong, so that left very little room for conversation. You would mostly end up talking about your creative writing meetings, which was fine. It was just sparse.
But this weekend would be different. The two of you had made plans nearly two weeks ago to carpool home together after spring midterms for the long weekend. Your immediate response was to panic, because what on earth would the two of you talk about for the hours that it took to drive home? How would you possibly avoid talking about any of your life for the past four months for that long? But as the days drew closer you realized that maybe it wasn’t such a big deal. The two of you used to go on fun drives constantly, and most of the time you’d barely talk at all. This would be fine. You could manage this.
He picks you up an hour after the exams are concluded, and much to your gratitude there’s music already blaring from each of the speakers. He motions through the window for you to put your bags in the backseat, which you do before sliding into the front seat of his car.
“Hey.” He’s looking at you with a soft smile when he says this, the gentleness of his face juxtaposed against the disney channel music blaring from the speakers is enough to make you laugh. So you do, the sound falling from your lips in a way that reminds Mingi of how dearly he missed it.
“Hi.” You stare at him for a minute, and he stares back. You find yourself thinking that all of this is mighty odd. Just two months ago you didn’t think that you’d ever have the strength to talk about Mingi again, now the two of you are sitting in the same car, “We’re listening to High School Musical?” He laughs too, passing his phone into your lap while shaking his head of brown curls.
“For now yes, you can change it if you’d like.” If you didn’t know him then you would’ve missed the twinkle in his eyes which indicated that he was going to continue, “Only if it’s Hannah Montana, though.”
The ride was full with playful banter and off key high notes. Each time Mingi would go to hit one he’d tilt his head back ever so slightly, the brake lights of the car in front of you catching on the delicate lines of his adams apple as he did so. You would laugh until you had to clench your stomach then chastise him for not keeping his eyes on the road. He never once tried to ask about what you’ve been up to, or ask about Hongjoong. In a way, you almost forgot about it for the long hours that it took to drive into your hometown. Mingi seemed to have that effect, like walking through a museum of all of the things that he made you feel for the beginning of your lifetime. Comforted. Carefree. Joyful.
The car slows down then turns, and even if you weren’t looking up you’d know exactly where this car was headed. It’s the place that you spent every late friday night, the place where burgers couldn’t be served without a milkshake on the side, the place where Mingi first knew that he would always love you no matter how hard he ran from it. The chrome on the outside of the diner looks exactly the same, and when you peer through the windows it’s even more familiar. Red cushioned seats, a jukebox in the corner, salt and pepper in mismatched porcelain dispensers on each table. It feels like you’re coming from a football game with sweaty hair and a quickly beating heart. It feels like you’re still a kid.
“Are you hungry?” You ask teasingly as Mingi turns off the car and undoes his seatbelt. He runs a hand through his hair, laughing lowly.
“More like thirsty, milkshakes on me?” You know how this is going to end. You know what paying for food and offering up rides indicates. You know that this could crash and burn and leave you utterly devastated for months. But you also know that you’ve changed. That you’re finally done living a loveless life in honor of your own comfort. You think that he’s changed too, less bitter now. You’re both finished with hurting each other, so maybe it could end up hurting exactly the way that it did last time. Maybe it’ll end up working out. The fact of the matter is that you’ll never know what falling feels like unless you jump.
“Milkshakes on you.” You respond with a purely happy smile. He smiles too, the kind that breaks across his entire face until it can’t possibly get any bigger. You’ve missed that smile so much, “Hongjoong and I broke up by the way. I’m sure that you already knew that, but I wanted to tell you myself.” He nods once, then purses his lips, then begins to play with his own fingertips. It’s too early for you to get a read on him, but you do think that he already knew. You also think that he’s trying to hide his happiness.
“Thank you for telling me.” He pinches his lips shut and swallows before continuing, “Are you okay?” He reaches out to hold your hand before he can even think about it, but it doesn’t seem to make you uncomfortable. You take his hand and squeeze it gently then slowly set it back down to lay on his thigh.
“I’m fine. I’ll be even better once I get a milkshake.”
Conversation flows more naturally after that, the both of you talking about nothing and everything at the same time. He tells you about the time that Yunho made a hotdog explode in their microwave. You share one of your many anecdotes from lunch with Yeosang and Jongho. He asks about what you’ve been writing lately and so you tell him briefly about your work in progress and the meetings with your teacher. The entire time while you’re talking he beams at you with pride. You had always loved writing so much.
You finish your milkshakes and he tips the waitress extra. You drive the remainder of the way to your house, Hannah Montana still blaring from his speakers. It’s unbelievably stupid and childish, but at the same time it’s absolutely perfect. He pulls into your driveway and lets out a heavy sigh, hands smacking against the steering wheel.
“Well. You’re home!” He doesn’t really want you to go, despite having driven all this way specifically to watch you leave. Something about the look in your eyes, and the fact that it’s directed straight at him, makes him think that you don’t want to leave either.
“I’m home.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and get out of the car before Mingi can even think of another thing to say. He maneuvers a bit in his seat so that he can see you as your picking up your stuff and think of something to say, “Thanks for the ride, I’ll-”
“Do you want to start up movie nights again?” He wasn’t exactly planning on asking you that, but he was planning to ask if you could spend more time together. It’s been so long without you that he wants to spend as much time with you as possible, “In my room, on Saturdays. And I’ll never stand you up or reschedule at the last minute.” Your heart is hammering, you don’t even bother to pretend that you don’t know why. The boy in front of you is stammering and over explaining and turning red in the face, and you are terribly in love with him.
“I’d like that very much.” With that simple agreement, it feels as though the entire world has been set back into place.
*
You didn’t realize how much junk a dorm room could accumulate in the span of a year until it was time to clean all of it out. There were schedules to peel off of the walls, clothes to dig out from the back of the closet, phone chargers that had fallen behind night stands. It’s weird to look at it now, with all of the homeliness and personality stripped away. Next year there will be two entirely different people sleeping in the loft beds, which you admittedly grew used to. Maybe they’ll be strangers. Maybe they’ll be best friends.
“That’s the last box.” Mingi enters the emptied room right as your eyes move to the empty bed that had been adjacent to yours for the entire year. Your roommate had left early this morning, her things had been packed for weeks already. The two of you never grew any closer to one another, but you didn’t mind. Coexisting with her felt like one of your many growth challenges throughout this year, “You missing your roommate?” Mingi asked with a cocked eyebrow, making you realize that you’re still staring at her stripped bed.
“No, not really.” Your voice comes out so matter of fact that it makes Migni giggle a little bit. He thinks that it’s nice to see you, who was once so meek and quiet, being adamant about not caring for someone, “I’m grateful for her though. I didn’t think that I’d be able to live with a stranger before this year. I didn’t think I’d be able to do lots of things before this year.” You finally move your eyes to the boy standing at your side to see that he’s staring at you with a proud smile. It makes your chest swell with warmth in a way that you don’t even fight against, “What?” You can’t help but break out into a smile as you gaze even longer at his.
“Nothing, I’m just really proud of us. Who we’ve become, especially you.” His pinky finger brushes up against your own, for a moment you can feel his hand aching to hold your own. You open up your palm and lace your fingers into his, moving with certainty and purpose, “I like who you are now, you’re a lot bolder. Happier.” Your body flushes with heat, heart pattering so erratically that you’re sure he can hear it. You hope that he does.
“I-I like you now too.” Your voice wavers as his hand travels to your wrist, pulling you gently so that you’re facing each other. His face looks stern, like this moment is do or die, yet his eyes sparkle with the same childlike twinkle as always. You watch his eyes travel from your own to your lips in a mere second, breath hitching in the back of your throat. You’ve waited for this for such a long time, but as his nose brushes ever so gently against yours you find yourself thinking that it was worth it, “May I?” The question is whisper, your breath ghosting against Mingi’s plump lips. You place your hand on his chest so that his heart is thumping beneath your hand.
“Yes.” You hook your free hand beneath his chin and bring his face closer to yours so that your lips are finally touching. It’s nothing but a gentle brush at first, both of you timid and overly careful, but as soon as you try to pull away his hands are on your waist and pulling you closer than you thought was possible. He kisses you with fever, hands gripping you as though he’s scared that you might melt away. You bury your fists into his shirt, trying desperately to let him know that he never has to worry about that again.
He pulls away after sometime, hands moving to hold your face as he rests his forehead on yours. He says nothing, only brushes his thumb against your cheek and smiles. In the quiet moments, you can make out the blurred lines of a future, one that’s spent in a modest apartment that’s decorated with all of the junk that Mingi just hauled downstairs for you. You can see late nights spent writing at a desk that’s full of his trinkets. You can see weekly movie nights on the couch with blankets and twinkling fairy lights. You can see a life that’s lived with love and passion, a life where pains are forgotten and growth is left in their place.
When he smiles at you and goes in for a second kiss, your eyes flutter closed. Yet you still see it all so clearly. You can see a future, and you can see it with Mingi by your side.
#song mingi#mingi x reader#mingi angst#writekpop#kpopscape#mingi fluff#admin reid#hongjoong x reader#ateez#ateez x reader#ateez angst#ateez fluff#kim hongjoong#park seonghwa#jeong yunho#kang yeosang#choi san#jung wooyoung#choi jongho#omg this is finally freaking posted fjdslkf#to whoever requested this;; thank you so much for your patience!
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The Owl House Introspective | Zodiac Signs
hello hello. so it seems there aren’t any canon birthdays for the characters (yet). and me being me, i love to know character’s astrology signs because it’s a passion of mine! and i’ve more than enough time on my hands, so let’s take a deep dive into what the character’s signs could be!
*this is just my opinion based on my knowledge of astrology and how i interpret the signs. i’d love to hear what you think, if you agree or disagree!
Luz Noceda
Luz Luz Luz. Okay. So I’m not great at doing summaries for characters, BUT it’s easy to see that she can be very short tempered and act before thinking. She comes off as very social and easily gets along with everyone she meets. She’s high energy and seemingly is always on the go. But that’s just on the surface. At her core, she is very family oriented. She can be very emotional and I feel that family really drives her to make the decisions she does. She would do anything for anyone she cares for. She is most definitely creative and imaginative. And at her worst, she’s pessimistic and moody. And with that being said, Luz is a
Cancer Sun, Aries Rising.
(Possibly Libra Moon but I was too lazy to think that deep into it right now.)
I saw both of these results when trying to find her sign, and I think this works out so well. When we first meet her, she resembles an Aries. Loud and outspoken. A little firecracker ready to stand up for what she believes in. And I think her core (her sun sign) really powers this. As we get to know her, we see a more emotional side to her. As for the Libra moon thing, I took a quiz to get an idea of what signs she may be and Libra was in the top three. And it would make sense. But I’m not entirely sure.
Eda Clawthorne
The wonderful, amazing, perfect, beautiful, awesome, (okay, we get it you love Eda) Eda. She’s hard to figure out. Which is a part of her character so cool deal. She is outgoing and passionate. She adapts very easily to change and maybe even prefers it. She loves adventure and definitely doesn’t like to be forced into a single box. She wants to learn any and everything. She thrives on being able to do her own thing and figure out the world through experience rather than learning by the book. She is humorous and fun to be around. But she can also be impulsive and not really think before she acts. She also doesn’t really consider others when doing so. But despite all of that, she is also very secretive. She hides a lot of herself and rarely opens up emotionally, even though she has a lot of feelings. She hides her emotions often. This is a conflict between her sun sign and rising sign, though her rising tends to hide emotions despite having a surplus of them. With all that being said, Eda is a
Sagittarius Sun, Scorpio Rising.
(Aries moon maybe, I dunno. Aries is somewhere in her chart. Maybe she’s an Aries Mars but I’m not going that deep 😂)
As a fellow Sagittarius, I relate to her a lot in terms of her description I wrote. Sagittarians tend to hide their emotions and insecurities under a facade of optimism and outgoing-ness. They don’t like to dwell on the negative and just want to have fun. They bounce around place to place in search of what fills them with life. Motivation. Knowledge. And with her rising, she can present herself as mysterious. There is a conflict in the show where she doesn’t really open up (aka. Raine.). And since rising signs symbolize the ‘you’ you show to others, this checks out.
King
King!!!! I fucking love this guy. He’s funny. Deadpan kinda humor. So first impressions, he’s very extravagant and loves being the center of attention. He loves control and likes to feel as if he is a leader in all situations. He can be very egotistical. And he definitely has tendencies of pushing people under the bus in order to gain for himself. He has a dark sense of humor and can be violent. There’s a lot under that “me me me” surface though. He can be very dedicated and passionate. He hides his emotions, much like Eda. He doesn’t like the fact that a lot of his past is unknown. He doesn’t like not being in the know. A lot of his character is secretive, not necessarily by choice. That being said, the lovely King is a:
Scorpio Sun, Leo Rising.
(Apparently Sagittarius and Virgo were high up in the rankings for him, so that can be taken into consideration for his moon. Virgo moon maybe. Sagittarius doesn’t really fit his vibe??)
I know a lot of people might see him as a Leo sun, but I think Leo Rising fits him more since that’s what he portrays to others. Think of rising signs as your “outer” self and your sun sign as your “inner” self. That’s very vague and it all depends on your chart as a whole but that makes it a little easier to understand, at least for me. As we get to know King, there is a deep vast of emotions under the surface of his confident and cocky exterior. I think these placements fit him well.
Hooty
Okay. Hm. Love to hate him. Hate to love him. Just as you’re starting to like him, he just- pulls a Hooty. He’s good natured at heart. All he wants is everyone in his life to get along and love each other. And he will stop at nothing to help solve any conflict. It’s almost as if he wants to feel wanted. He’s got a maternal vibe to him too. He is also very emotional, and it annoys me when he goes all “woe is me”. But that’s Hooty. He craves to be accepted just as he accepts everyone else. He cares deeply for his family. So Hooty is a:
Libra Sun, Cancer Rising.
(Virgo moon maybe. Virgo was high up there. Virgo something.)
These placements just make sense with who he is. I personally don’t like cancers for the sole reason that they act like hooty at their worst (and I’ve only met Cancers who were at their worst sadly.) But he’s also so warm hearted and loves to care for others. Libra’s want everything to be equal and for everything to be harmonious. And that’s exactly what Hooty strives for.
Amity Blight
One of the best character development I’ve seen with this one, so far at least I don’t watch a lot of new media. But no, I love her. I’m sure we all do. She’s very cool. At first glance, she is very passionate about her status and goals. She works very hard to keep up the appearance of power and control. She wants to come off as put together. Everything has to go perfectly for her. And it seemingly is, but that’s only a mask. Under all of that is a girl who is overwhelmed with the pressure to be perfect. The pressure of fitting her parent’s expectations, as well as her own. Expectations that are wildly unachievable at the rate she wants. She’s meticulous with her ways. But also shy and reserved. She is picky when it comes to people she opens up to. But when she deems a person worthy of her time, she is more than caring. She pushes herself too hard and she is way to hard on herself. She strives to be the best even if it takes away from her sanity. And with that being said, Amity is a:
Virgo Sun, Capricorn Rising.
(Potential Aquarius Moon because yes.)
If any of you have known a Capricorn, you can’t deny Amity acts like one. She can be rude at first. She is intimidating. She is THE best. She works hard and never stops. But she also is very pessimistic and judges herself hard. I don’t know how to describe it, you’d have to be close with a Capricorn to understand what I mean when I explain them. As for her sun, this is perfect. I don’t understand earth signs very much so I can’t truly describe them to you, but she’s a Virgo. For sure. It’s the vibe they give off.
Conclusion
And that’s that for the main-ish cast! If you’d like me to cover the supporting characters, such as Willow, Gus, Lilith, Raine, Hunter etc- let me know. I probably will. What did you think of my interpretations? I think I got pretty close! Of course, I might be off when their birthdays are ever released, but I like what I decided on. I love love love astrology and diving deep into their potential charts in accordance to how they are etc. I do this in my free time (aka. at 3am when I’m bored.) so I decided to share. I might do more for other shows! What are your sign(s)? Do you relate to any of these characters?
Anyways, I’m off. Thanks for reading. Ignore any typos I’ve missed. It’s 2am and I’m tired.
-Ambrose.
#the owl house#the owl lady#the owl beast#toh eda#toh hooty#toh amity#toh luz#toh spoilers#toh season 2#luz noceda#amity blight#eda clawthorne#hooty#toh king#astrology#the owl house zodiac#zodiac#the owl house astrology#luz x amity#this took me a while omg#why must I be this way#ththis is a kids show#I’m proud of myself though#I’m cry#okay I’m going to post
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Hi! I found your stories on a ficrec list for Eomer/Lothiriel and WOW!!! MUCH LOVE!!!!! I can't wait to read more wonderful stories from you! Can I ask what got you into this pairing, and what draws you to them? Also: any headcannons about them? (Physical/personality/hobbies/etc.)
Hi there! I am so glad to hear you like my stories. :)
I would say that I got to Éothiriel thanks to Éomer. I can't say I fell in love with him straightaway - I was your typical Aragorn fangirl back in the day (mind you, he’s still one of my favourite characters in the legendarium). I had always enjoyed the bits with Rohan in particular, and the more I watched the films, the more I liked Éomer, and once I had read the books a couple of times, I realised there was so much more to this guy. I loved his integrity, his unashamed passion, his loyalty and devotion to his family and friends, and how he strives to do better and learn.
His arc in the books is such a fascinating one. He starts out as a scion of one of the leading families of Rohan (and is a son of a princess, no less), but is orphaned along with his sister at an early age, and then raised by the King himself. What kind of a trauma did that loss leave him with, and how did it affect his relationship with his sister? Were his teenage years very difficult thanks to this? At the time of the events of LOTR, he’s a fairly young man - among the youngest of the entire cast - and yet he has this hugely important duty as the Third Marshal of the Mark. He’s passionate but also ready to put himself and his own needs aside in order to do what’s right. The whole House of Eorl dynamics are just so fascinating, even though a lot of it happens outside the actual narrative of LOTR. What are his relationships with his uncle, his cousin, and his sister? How does this partnership with Théodred grow (to the point of Saruman seeing these two as the chief obstacle of the easy conquest of Rohan)? What does it feel like to watch his beloved uncle fall under the influence of ill-intended counsels (not to mention the threat of Wormtongue against Éowyn)? Éomer is portrayed as a fairly temperamental guy, so I can only imagine the fury he must feel at the situation.
But then Théodred dies, the noose tightens around everybody’s throats, and one may just imagine the desperation and dread he must feel at this point. He’s still figthing and trying to do the right thing, even if that may now mean treason. But he’s still friendly to Aragorn and co. when they meet, recognising them as an opportunity to help Rohan almost immediately.
He’s so loyal to his family that even after he’s been disgraced and humiliated by Wormtongue by the proxy of Théoden, he still knows where the true malice is coming from, and is ready to fight again for his uncle the moment he’s released. And he slips straight back to being the King’s lieutenant without even blinking his eyes.
There’s also how Éomer becomes king. I’m fascinated with what it would feel like to him. I mean, he’s been second in line to the throne his whole life, so he probably always realised there’s a chance he’ll be king one day. But the circumstances he comes to the throne - the near ruin of his country, the tragic and violent death of his cousin he might have been able to prevent if not for Wormtongue, the brief time he has with his restored uncle, and then the whole mess of the War of the Ring... all that must feel pretty surreal for him. And, of course, the Battle of Pelennor’s fields, and his scenes in it... wow. Him nearly losing his mind over thinking his sister (and whole family) is dead, charging like a madman over the field, composing some pretty amazing poetry in the spur of the moment, and then just laughing in sheer defiance against what seems like imminent death. What a dude.
And then there are so many other interesting aspects: how he must have felt over those long years (was he unhappy? was he lonely?), what he expected his life to be versus what it turned out to be, and what it did to him to watch his family leave one by one. I could go on, but then we would be here whole day.
So, enter Lothíriel. Of course I was eager to know what happens to Éomer after the war is over, and fortunately, Tolkien had an answer ready - although he could really have told us more about them! Not that in canon there is anything to imply it was a love marriage, but personally, I don’t think that a man with a disposition like Éomer would submit to a loveless or faithless marriage (or that he’d risk his relationship with Imrahil by being faithless). I just can’t see it happening. Also I just want him to be happy, and find someone who brightens up his days, someone who won’t leave him. It’s nice to imagine him having a new start with her.
Sadly, of her personality I can’t say anything that would be indicated by canon, but if we imagine her being anything like her father, then she might be a proud, strong and brave woman. Well, she would probably have to be courageous to leave her homeland for marriage (another reason I think it was a love union, because I want her to be happy, too)! I like to imagine her finding some unexpected, unimagined freedom in Rohan, perhaps even fulfilment of ambition in her role as a queen. Also, maybe with her background and if she had access to some kind of education, she’d be uniquely qualified to helping Éomer to rule and counseling him. Perhaps she even feels some personal pride over the fact that together, they are starting a new dynasty (or a new line) to rule in Rohan. Also, having a fairly big family, I think she would be well equipped to show him the love he has missed most of his life.
I recall at some point reading the appendix about the House of Eorl, and that Éomer married Imrahil’s daughter, Lothíriel, and thinking yes, this makes sense. It’s just the sense I gleaned from the interactions and circumstances of the story. Of course Éomer would have strong feelings for Imrahil, since he was the one who saw that Éowyn was still alive and hastened her delivery to safety. Being a man of strong emotions, I think Éomer would hold Imrahil and his entire family in high regard thanks to this. Maybe it’s even a ground from which some attachment did grow between him and Lothíriel. Also, Rohirrim are a culture based on horses, and apparently the Princes of Dol Amroth also maintain a cavalry (the Swan Knights who, with Imrahil, took part in the Battle of Pelennor fields). So I see there definitely being a lot of points of connection!
Of course, it also fits the socio-political frame we are left with at the end of the story: the new unity among the Free Peoples, the task of rebuilding after the war, and this new blooming of the friendship between Rohan and Gondor. On a purely logical level, it is reasonable that he’d marry the daughter of a powerful house like Imrahil’s. But for my purely headcanonish “aesthetic” (if that’s even the right word) reasons I do like the contrast these two make: their different cultures (and all that they entail from songs and poetry to foods and habits), their union as the union of earth and sea, his gold to her silver, the warrior and the lady... also this is purely headcanon/tropes but I definitely think of them as tol/smol and embodying the pair where A is the reason B began to smile again. (Tol/smol is at least half canon because Éomer is apparently as tall as Aragorn, like 6 feet 6 if I recall right. Since he’s also a professional warrior, he’s probably built like it too.)
So, yeah - I guess that’s already a lot of reasons for why I love this pair! There’s just so much potential there, so many avenues to pursue, and so much food for imagination. If you’re interested in more of my headcanons, you could try searching the tag “Éothiriel” in my blog - I’ve got plenty of posts about them!
Thanks for the ask, and sorry for this answer being so long! I rather got carried away and Éomer deserves every bit of the love he gets, and so does Lothíriel.
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MY TOUGHTS ON PART TWO OF RED HOOD BY CHIP ZDARSKY :)
A DC BOOK THAT TASTES LIKE MARVEL.
You know when you are reading a book and you feel like the story you are reading seems familiar but not really within the context you are reading it at the moment? If you can’t shake the wrong sense of familiarity you search for what it probably the biggest give away, the author.
Here it’s something like that; I have read other pieces of Chip Zdarsky’s work, namely Daredevil. While I could tell you the familiarity is there, in the subject of guilt after taking the life of another person, the reality is that this book doesn’t taste like Daredevil, it tastes like Marvel.
That can be either an excellent thing (because Marvel has amazing books) or something terrible (because DC isn’t Marvel and they don’t work the same way).
As of now I can’t really tell if this Red Hood story is going to be one or the other, but I can tell you that it feels out of place in the DC universe, or at least that’s how I see it. I will explore this particular thought later, I just thought this was a nice way to open this post.
If you would like to read the first post I made about this book I will leave the link here!
Now…let’s begin.
Part two picks up exactly where part one left off, we see Jason calling Oracle so she can bring the police to the place where Jason killed Andy a.ka. that gigantic piece of shit.
Jason is having some thoughts, ones that I think are important.
“I have taken lives before, a lot of them. I have killed guys knowing nothing about them except that they had guns and murder in their hearts. Those ones are easy; I don’t have to think of their mothers getting the news or of kids being...”
Jason is troubled. He is now in front of a reality that he never truly thought about but to be honest with you I strongly believe that nobody in the DC universe thinks beyond what happens in front of them, that’s just how fictional comic worlds are designed.
Anyway, there is a little something that bothers me in this inner monologue of his, like since when have “murderers” been Jason’s actual target? Like Joker was his target but he didn’t kill him, the base of Jason’s morals when it comes to killing has always been drugs, most importantly if you sell drugs to kids. So unless he is saying “murderers” because they were selling drugs that caused people (especially kids) to overdose then I don’t really get what is going on.
Another thing that I also talked about in the first post is that Jason hasn’t killed in a very long time, this man has been sticking to the Bats rule for so long that it’s actually unreal. Even when he shot the penguin and Batman proceeded to almost beat Jason to death the penguin hadn’t died. So once again I am thinking that Zdarsky has some info that he is not sharing right now or maybe he just didn’t read Lobdell's run (in which case, can you really blame him?)
Now let me talk about the other part of his monologue “…I don’t have to think of their mothers getting the news or of kids being...” This is something that I haven’t seen in DC, direct consequences after a hero/vigilante does something, and let me tell you it feels out of place. Is it a good or bad thing? I don’t really know but I have some thoughts on the subject.
I think it's unfair to put a comic character in that situation or dilemma. Jason has basically three reactions to the same situation and they are all valid, but can this situation be handled by a fictional person in a fictional world? Because to be fair I could also ask about the criminals that are put in hospitals after they are beat up by heroes, what if they die in the hospital? Is the hero a killer or does it fall on the hospital? If a criminal cannot pay for the attention given to them in hospitals and they immediately go back to criminal activity to pay for those things, are heroes a good thing? If the Joker bombs a hospital for the third time in four months and Batman does the same thing (take joker to Arkham) only for Joker to escape and do it again, is Batman as guilty as the Joker for the deaths of innocent people or not?
As I wrote it and as I read it again I see that it is a crazy thought because you can simply add more depth to the characters decisions and the consequences that would ensue because of them, but Gotham is a fictional city created to establish that crime is off the charts and that they need Batman because no amount of resources will be able to fix this city’s problems. So putting Jason in this position is new to me…but only in DC (more of this particular thought below).
Going back to the comic in question, I feel like Jason had the answers and the ideas all in his head. In this issue alone he basically says that if the mother does not pull through the boy will be alone, but alone means going into the system (a horrible system that Jason does not trust and needs improvement), but also, Jason recognizes that if the mother died and the father was left alive then that man would have done horrendous stuff. I just simply wouldn't believe that a man that gave drugs to both his wife and son so they wouldn't bother him is just going to change after realizing that his wife died because of him. Even less believable is him becoming an amazing father.
In the big scheme of things, Jason has killed people who fitted very certain characteristics, never innocents (bye, Morrison). What happens after the killing is done? We don’t know because past stories have never focused on that (criminals in comics are by default one dimensional, villains are not)
But here is the thing, Zdarsky is a Marvel writer and Marvel has gone in depth within those situations (like what happens after heroes commit mistakes or kill someone) mostly with Civil War by Mark Millar and more recently in Daredevil written by Chip Zdarsky, but DC hasn't and DC has been plain for a long time, DC doesn't really explain how batman hurts people severely and nothing happens beyond that.
What I am trying to say is that Zdarsky is going for a different and unique route for Jason here but I think the story is out of place in the DC universe.
I promise I am done with those thoughts, they were really difficult to put on paper and to make them make sense, so I apologize if I only confused you, sorry!
Anyway! After the monologue is done we have a flashback where little Jason is being told by his mother to go buy bread (the only thing they can afford) but she is also making him leave so he doesn’t have to be present when Robby (a friend if you ask Jason’s mom, a drug dealer if you ask Jason) comes to the apartment to help her.
Sadly as Jason is leaving Robby is walking up the stairs, now not to copy little Jason but fuck Robby. Jason’s issues with drugs, drug dealing and overdosing is once again shown here but what is also shown is the violence that comes with it. Jason being terrified for himself (and his mother) as Robby pulls a knife on him broke my heart and as he is left there in the corridor to his apartment all we can see is a defeated little boy and that shit hurts a lot.
After that we jump back to the future with none other than Batgod…I mean Batman. Batman is following a man called Sydney and apparently he disappointed Batman because B told him to stop being a criminal, like come on man if I ask nicely or if I break both of your arms you will surely stop, right? Yeah, no.
I feel like I mentioned something about this while my brain decided that DC never usually explains what happens with criminals after they get caught or killed and now here we are. Consequences. Batman scares a man off of working for Scarecrow but the man still needs to work (does he have a family to provide for? We don’t know. Does he do it because it’s the only job he can get? We don’t know.)
This Batman intermission ends up with Oracle telling him that Jason might be in trouble.
So we find ourselves back with Jason and Tyler in his safe house, Zdarsky does not hesitate and first thing he does is give us a couple of very angsty panels.
I love the way it hurts.
Jason honey, my sweet chonky boy…what are you doing?
Well at least I am not the only one asking that because Jason is having a moment to reflect about what has happened, what is happening and what could happen in the future. In this monologue he says the following:
“Dammit, Jason, what the hell are you doing? You can’t take care of this kid! But you can’t put him in the system either! Just waiting for some obsessed militaristic billionaire to adopt him? Dammit. His dad was scum, he hurt Tyler, he hurt his mom. But if Tyler’s mom doesn’t pull through…I just made this kid an orphan. He is my responsibility, he is too young to really see what he’s gone through, he can still be saved…unlike…”
Yeah that’s some really angsty thoughts, he is really going through it and I understand it. He lost his cool after what that horrible human being said he did and killed him and now he has to face the consequences of his actions, he recognizes that if the boy is left truly alone he will have to step up…but here is the thing, does Jason really want that? It seems to me like Jason is deeply against the idea of children working as heroes, and here he is as an adult that is a vigilante with an impressionable child that sees the Red Hood as his hero, I don’t know, it looks like the perfect recipe for a disaster.
But we don’t get to see what Jason does right away because its flashback time.
Jason only moved from his spot in the corridor of his apartment door to get the bread but as Robby comes out of said door Jason is there waiting. Robby teases that he and Jason’s mom ended up sharing the “medicine” and that she will be sleeping for a long time, and that seems to be it for Jason because next thing you know Robby is falling down the stairs.
Aw, shit.
Jason from the future continues his monologue while he remembers what happened on those stairs.
“I never had a chance, not for one second. But he does, Tyler has a chance. I can help him, help him be okay. This doesn’t…what I did…what his parents did, it doesn’t have to define him.”
So Jason wants to make things right for Tyler so he doesn’t become like Jason. Now I don’t truly know what Zdarsky is going for but I will go for the unconscious route, little Jason pushed Robby (that fucker) down the stairs and he was left unconscious there.
In Jason’s eyes Tyler is still a good kid that deserves only the best (like you Jason, please don’t think so low about yourself) and that can be saved from a life of vengeance, justice and trauma. But whatever Jason was going to actually say to Tyler we don’t know because Tyler informs Jason that through the Red Hood mask there is someone telling him that Batman is coming.
Batman appears out of nowhere as he does and starts talking shit.
Honestly Batman what is with that “not my town” bullshit? Baby this isn’t the medieval times, you are not a king and as far as I know not only is Lucius Fox richer than you but so is Dick so sit your ass down and shut the fuck up.
Luckily Jason is giving the outstanding amount of zero fucks and tells Batman exactly what he needs to be told, sadly Jason’s big brain time doesn’t last long because he absolutely loses his cool and starts a fight. So you know what that means, monologue time!
“This was a mistake, but I can’t help myself, he gets under my skin. His sanctimony, he acts like he’s God, all knowing, all seeing when really…he’s just another failed parent.”
Amen. Jason knows many languages but he chose to speak facts.
As the monologue ends Batman is standing over Jason like he is about to murder him but no such thing happens because Tyler, who was quietly watching them fight, jumps in to protect Jason. Yep, there goes my heart, goodbye.
And this is it. The issue ends with Tyler putting an end to the fight and telling batman that he has to leave the Red Hood alone because he is a good guy. Jason of course is thankful and promises that everything is fine.
I don’t know about you guys but so far I can’t say if I like the book or not. Both parts left me with mixed feelings. I obviously want to see how it ends but I honestly think that there is only one way this story can end with a happy ending, which I think it would be Tyler going back to his mom and Jason somehow working to help her with her drug addiction, maybe even have Dick involved so he can help them economically.
Things that I surely do not want to see are Jason backing down again and limiting himself to the Bats rules. I also absolutely don’t want Zdarsky to go all Geoff Johns on us and make Jason think that he should give up the Red Hood mantle.
Jason really needs to gain his confidence back, he was smart, calculated and strategic and now they have taken those things away to accentuate his “daddy issues” and “inferiority complex”. Why the quotation marks you ask? Oh, because those things are bullshit and there is no room for those things in Jason’s characterization other than to add more angst to the plot.
Let me know how you felt about the issue and my review! Are you excited about what the four next issues are going to bring to the story?
Also if you read Marvel, did this issue taste like Marvel to you too or am I going crazy?
#Jason Todd#red hood#red hood outlaw#batman: urban legends#batman urban legends#infinite frontier#DC comics#robin
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God Damn Smile | Edmund Pevensie x Reader
Warnings: Fluff :)
Time/Era: Modern AU
Word count: 3.7k
Summary: Edmund reconnects with his childhood best friend, and it makes old, forgotten feelings resurface.
Request: Hey! Can you write an Edmund x reader based on “A Typical Teenage Love Song” by Tate McRae? It’s fine if you can’t. Tsym in advance!
A/N: This song is so cute :D Ahhh, I love this imagine!!! I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! Thanks for the request :)
masterlist | read on ao3
“No! Don’t step on him!” Five year old Y/N L/N yelled at her friend, Edmund Pevensie. He had his foot raised above a small garden snail, right in the middle of a game of Godzilla. The pair were currently in Y/N’s back garden, playing amongst all the plants. Both children were dressed in brightly colored rain boots and their play clothes to enjoy the rainy weather.
“It’s just a snail,” Edmund responded, lowering his leg to the ground. Instead of squishing the garden creature, he kneeled down to the ground for a better look. It wasn’t anything special, just a normal garden snail, but it seemed to be rather important to his playmate.
“He is not just a snail! He is my friend.”
“If he’s your friend, what’s his name then?” Edmund let the small snail crawl up onto his finger before standing upright.
“Snaily,” Y/N responded, putting her hand out and throwing the teddy bear in her arms to the ground. Edmund placed Snaily on her palm and smiled a toothy smile. This made Y/N grin, putting her hand at eye level. “Thank you for not squashing him.”
“He’s my friend now, too. You don’t squash friends.”
Y/N nodded in agreement, “You don’t squash friends.”
~
“Do you remember being a baby?” Edmund asked Y/N. They were now eight and sitting on the Pevensie family swing set, avoiding the youngest Pevensie child, Lucy. Y/N adored Lucy, she thought the girl was adorable, but Edmund insisted the two have “big kid things” to attend to.
The swing set was old and rickety, as it had been in their family since Edmund’s older brother, Peter was a toddler. The colors were faded, the slide had a large crack in it and Edmund had written his and Y/N’s initials on one of the support beams.
“No, am I supposed to?” Y/N answered. She had been last to reach the swings, so she was stuck with the squeaky one. Her face cringed each time the chains made a noise, despite her attempts to stay as still as possible. Y/N brought her hands to the teddy bear on her lap, covering its ears. Having been in the sun all afternoon, the swing was hot on her legs and it stuck uncomfortably to the skin on her thighs.
“I don’t think so. My parents were looking at our baby books this morning so I was wondering,”
“My mom has a picture of us when we were three hanging in our living room,” Y/N’s nose wrinkled and she kicked up a small patch of dirt. “We’ve been friends since we were babies. I don’t remember meeting you, though. You were just, there.”
Edmund laughed, standing so he could lean his stomach against the seat of the swing. He swung on his stomach once before situating back onto his feet. “Our fathers are friends which means we’re friends. That’s just the way the world works.”
“Friends forever, even if one of us moves far far far far away?”
“Friends forever, Y/N.”
~
“Do you have to go?” Ten-year-old Edmund stood outside of Y/N’s house, holding a box of barbies. Mr. L/N took the box from Ed’s hand and put it in the trunk of his car.
“It should only be for a few years at most, Ed. I’m getting relocated for work,” Mr. L/N responded, messing the young boy’s hair up with one hand. “We’ll be back. I gave your Dad our new address and you can write to Y/N to your heart’s content.”
When Y/N joined them at the car, backpack slung across her shoulder and her favorite teddybear hugged between her arms, tears were rolling down her face.
“I don’t want to go, please don’t make me!” She cried, holding to her teddy to her chest. Her face was scarlet and her mouth was etched into a frown.
“You can stay with us!” Edmund offered, his own tears starting to roll down his face. Y/N was more than just his playmate, she was his best friend. They had spent the last seven years of their life seeing eachother almost daily, and now all of that was going to come to a sudden halt.
“That’s sweet of you, buddy, but I think her mother and I would miss her too much,” Mr. L/N smiled down at the two before walking to the front of the car where his wife was talking to Helen Pevensie.
“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Edmund sniffled. “I’m going to miss you. I have no one to play on the swings with!”
“You can play with Lucy.” Edmund made a face at this suggestion, making Y/N sadly giggle. “Or Peter.”
“No, Lucy cries too much and Peter always kicks sand in my eyes.”
A thoughtful look came over Y/N’s face and she looked down at the plush in her arms. After a small moment of what looked like intense thought, she held her teddy out towards Edmund.
“Here, Ed, now you can have a friend!” Edmund hesitantly took the bear from Y/N’s hands and looked down at it. It was obvious Y/N really loved that thing because it was a bit raggedy and one of the brown button eyes was replaced with a bright green one. “Teddy likes it better here, anyway. You can take care of him.”
Y/N awkwardly gripped her upper arm with her hand, swaying on her heels. Edmund hugged it to him and nodded stiffly. “He’s in good hands. I will protect him with my life.”
Both kids laughed and embraced before Y/N was whisked into the car.
~
Dear Y/N,
Happy 12th birthday! I’m sad I couldn’t be there for it, but I hope your cake was yummy. The picture my mum showed me looked absolutely delicious. She also said you took up archery at your new school! My school doesn’t offer that, so I thought that was cool. Did you shoot anything? I know you are too nice to shoot any animals but I never know with you. ;)
I hung out with this girl in my English class the other day, she reminded me of you. She had long brown hair and blue eyes and a laugh that sounds like yours. She wasn’t as fun as you, though. I think she wants me to be her boyfriend. I’m not sure if I want to be her boyfriend. She kept trying to hold my hand. Her hand was sweaty. And she kept saying I have a cute smile. I don’t know how a smile can be cute? Teeth are weird. Peter said that was her way of trying to flirt with me. Do you flirt with boys at your school? What do you say?
Maybe we can play Minecraft together again soon. Last time we played I had a great time. Have your mom text mine and we can try to schedule something. I want a phone, it would be easier to talk to you.
I attached a picture of me and Teddy at the park. He misses you almost as much as I do.
I’ll be waiting for your response,
Ed
.
Ed,
Thank you for the birthday wishes. :D The cake was delicious, I wish you could have tried it!!! And to answer your question, yes, but I’ve only ever shot targets. It’s against school rules to shoot anything other than them. Sort of a bummer, though.
Your not-girlfriend sounds nice. I agree with her, your smile is very nice. You always look so happy when you smile, especially when your eyes light up.
I don’t really flirt with boys, boys are kinda gross. Not you of course, but the guys at my school. There is this one guy named Ethan who is kinda cute. He wouldn’t want to be my boyfriend though. My friend always talks about kissing him. I want to kiss someone...have you ever kissed a girl?
My mum said I can get a phone when I turn 14. Then, we can text and call whenever we want! I miss you. How’s teddy? He looks so happy in that picture. I hung it on my bulletin board.
Respond quicker this time, will ya?
Y/N
~
EDMUND!!!
I’M HAVING A CRISIS AT THE RIPE OLD AGE OF 13! Remember that boy, Ethan? Well, apparently he has a big crush on me. That’s fine, he’s cute and everything, but my friend has a big crush on him. I guess it’s like friendship code to not date him? I feel bad rejecting him. I kinda have a crush on someone already. I know he doesn’t like me though.
Are you still dating that one girl? In your last letter, you said you were gonna break up with her. How’d that go? Did she cry? Did you cry? I hope you didn’t. I don’t like it when you cry. It makes me sad.
Can you believe we’re teenagers now? It seems like just yesterday I was handing you Teddy and crying in the car for an hour. I hope we come back soon. But hey! I’m almost 14, which means I’ll be getting a cell phone. Maybe if I have a phone my mum can convince yours to get you one.
I miss you, Ed. I hope to be back soon.
Y/N.
.
Y/N!!!!
I’m not sure if that really counts as a crisis, but okay. If you don’t like him, don’t date him. That’s why I broke up with mine. I discovered I kind of like someone else, so I broke up with her. And no, I didn’t cry. If felt like a relief more than anything. Let me know how the “crisis” turns out.
I can’t wait until I get a phone. My entire grade has one, and so do Susan and Peter. I feel kind of left out, having to write letters when I want to talk to someone. It’s always fun when I get them, though.
If I have to hear Stitches by Shawn Mendes one more time, my head is going to explode!!!! Susan keeps playing it on repeat. I tried to turn it off earlier and she almost broke my arm. Why are siblings so mean? Or are mine just weird? You’re lucky you’re an only child.
I miss you too, Y/N. If you were here life would be so much easier.
Edmund
~
“Edmund, you got a letter,” Lucy says, dropping the envelope on his desk. He was working on college applications, typing away on his laptop, and looking grumpy. Music blasted through his speakers as he worked.
“I didn’t order anything?” He grunted in response, not taking his eyes off of the screen.
“It’s from the girl you’re basically in love with, I think. It has her name on it.” Edmund looked at the envelope with scrunched eyebrows. Sure enough, it had her name and address written on the front in her familiar handwriting. His heart rate sped up while he gently (and shakily) broke the paper seal. Why didn’t she just text him?
Hey, Edmund,
I know we haven’t talked since we were like 15 and I could have just texted you, but this seemed more nostalgic and romantic in a way. You know how I tend to romanticize everything.
Anyway, I wanted to let you know we’re moving back for Senior year, crazily enough. A few years my ass, huh? We’ll be back on the 14th, so get ready for chaos.
Seriously, I’m looking forward to seeing you outside of Instagram again. You don’t have to come see me if you don’t want to, I know it might be a bit awkward, but I’d really like it if you did. My address is 1014 Swanwhite Lane. Come stop by if you feel like it.
I do miss you. Judging by your social media, you’re doing well. I’m happy to hear that.
Hopefully, I’ll see you soon.
Y/N
“Oh my god, she’s coming back,” Edmund says, gripping the thin paper in between his thumb and middle finger. “What’s the date?”
Lucy pulled her phone out of her pocket and unlocked it, “The 28th. Why?”
“She got back the 14th! She’s been back for ages and I had no idea, oh my god!”
“Well, are you going to go see her? You lost your chance to sweep her off her feet by waiting for her to arrive.”
“Sweep her off her feet?” Lucy rolled her eyes and hit him with the rest of the family’s mail.
“Don’t play stupid. I’ve heard you and Peter talking.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His eyes skimmed the letter again. Lucy snatched it from his fingers and hit him with it.
“Don’t know what I’m talking about? Really, Ed? The whole ‘I’ve been in love with her since I was 8 years old’ thing you told Pete? You don’t recall? Or the fact you have her post notifications on?” Lucy read the letter herself. “She wants to see you! Come on, this is your chance. You haven’t even looked at a girl since you were like 13.”
“I’ve been focusing on school. What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s a Friday night in the middle of August and you’re getting a head start on college applications. Ed, go see the girl.”
“Mum will never let me,” Lucy held up one finger and left the room. After about 5 minutes, she returned and held his coat out to him.
“She said to go have fun. Here, it might be chilly.” Edmund sighed and took his jacket. The corduroy felt soft under his fingers as he slid it on.
“You don’t have to be so pushy, Lu.”
Lucy smiled, “It’s only because I love you. Besides, if I didn’t push you, you wouldn’t go.”
~
Edmund sat on the curb across the street and looked up at Y/N’s house. It was well past 11 at this point and only one light in the house was on. Hopefully, it was Y/N’s.
He awkwardly thumbed through his contacts before pulling up Y/N’s. The last text was on his birthday, a simple two message conversation consisting of “Happy Birthday!” and “Thanks!”
Look outside
He watched nervously as his message went from delivered to read, but no typing bubble popped up. Edmund sighed and stood, shoving his phone into his jacket pocket and walking towards the house. Sure enough, the front door opened and a grown-up Y/N stepped out. She was still dressed, but her shoes were off and her hair was tied back. Edmund smiled at her mismatched socks, old habits die hard apparently.
“I thought you were never going to come and see me,” Her voice was like honey.
“I just got the letter today, so blame the postal service. Not me.” The two walked to the curb and sat down.
“Well, I’m glad you still came. I was expecting you to wimp out.”
“Wimp out?! Why would I do that?”
Y/N let out a forced chuckle and looked at the pavement. “Because you stopped answering my texts and calls.” She crossed her arms across her body and shivered. She was only wearing a short-sleeve shirt and a pair of pajama shorts. “But I get it, life gets in the way sometimes.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Are you cold?” Without waiting for an answer, he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it across Y/N’s shoulders. It smelled like spearmint gum and pine.
Y/N let out a real chuckle this time. “Smooth, Ed. Very cheesy.”
“I will happily take it back.”
“Please don’t, this is the closest I’ve been to you in years.” Her fingers gripped the material and closed it around her torso. She scooted closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. Edmund didn’t quite know what to do. “I missed you, Edmund. It’s so nice to see you again.”
“I missed you too. Your return is a few years late.” His chest vibrated with a snicker.
“I know, but I’m back now.” A moment of silence filled the air as the two tried to grow more comfortable in the familiar company.
“I used to dream about sitting with you like this, you know,” Edmund said before he could stop himself.
“You did?”
“Yeah, I used to picture us in all sorts of situations, but most of them were small things like this.”
“But not anymore?”
Edmund sighed, laying his head on top of hers. His hair tickled Y/N’s forehead. “I figured you moved on from me.”
“Moved on? What do you mean?”
“I mean, you have so many friends and a new life… and we stopped texting as often. I don’t know, I thought you, maybe, outgrew me.”
Y/N played with the zipper on Edmund’s jacket, making a small clicking noise fill the air. “I never outgrew you, Ed. In fact, a day didn’t go by that I didn’t wish I was here with you.”
“I don’t see why. You had so many friends and such an exciting life. I’m rather dull in comparison.”
“You’re definitely not dull. And it doesn’t matter how many friends it seems like I have, you’re the only one I consider a best friend. I should have reached out more, maybe I could have had a better year.”
Edmund shifted so he could wrap an arm around her waist. “Did you have a bad year?”
“Yeah, that’s sort of why we came back. But, I mean, I’m here with you, so everything has a bright side.”
Edmund grinned and tightened his grip. “That’s one of the things I love most about you. You can always see the positives in everything.” Y/N pulled back and looked at his face.
“I love it when you smile,” Y/N commented. “I could spend hours staring at that god damn smile.” Edmund’s cheeks reddened and his smile grew bigger.
“Why don’t you, then? Stay with me for hours, I mean.”
“I will if you let me, Pevensie.”
Edmund sniffed once.
“Did you ever end up dating that guy from your Chemistry class?” Edmund asks, studying the side of her face. His eyes scanned over her skin, admiring how soft it looked.
“No, I’ve been in love with someone else for quite some time.”
“What a lucky guy, then.” Edmund’s voice was only a bit louder than a mumble as he turned his head away from her.
“Yeah, I guess he is. I’ve known him since I was really young.”
“How’d you meet him?” Every word felt like a dagger into his stomach.
“I don’t remember, he was always just there. Our dads were friends so we were friends. That’s just how the world works.” Edmund took his hand off of Y/N and placed it in his lap.
“Oh, I see.”
“Yeah, he’s super cute. He’s really smart, too, but kinda oblivious.”
“Wow, he sounds great, Y/N. I’m so happy for you.” Each word sounded like he was choking them out. He stopped listening a few responses ago, but he still wanted to support her. No matter how hurt he felt, he was still her friend.
“He’s the best person I’ve ever met, if I’m being quite honest. He can be a bit of an ass though.”
“What’s his name?”
“You might know him,” Y/N tucked her hands into her sleeves before continuing. “His name is Edmund Pevensie.”
“Wow, what a cool- wait what?” Y/N giggled at the look on his face. His eyebrows were lifted and his mouth was open slightly.
“Yeah, I don’t know, maybe you’ve met him.”
“You’ve been in love with me?”
“Been and am, darling. God, when I got your text tonight my heart almost stopped.” Edmund was speechless, he couldn’t believe the girl he had been in love with for so long felt the same way. “Of course it’s okay if you don’t feel the same-”
“-No! I’m just shocked. I can’t believe this. I have loved you since we were little, I feel like I’m dreaming.” He couldn’t help but let the smile engulf his face, making his freckles stand out against his red cheeks. This was not what he was expecting when he had walked to her house.
“There’s that handsome smile I love to see.”
“So, you were waiting for me?”
“Just like you were waiting for me. Lucy texted me about six months ago about how you never show any interest when she tries to set you up with girls. Now is just our time, unless you aren’t going to show interest in me.”
“When did you get so sassy?” Edmund turned so he was facing her straight on.
“When did you get so flust-” She was cut off mid-word by his warm lips being pressed against hers. He tasted like licorice and mint, and Y/N instantly got intoxicated off of his lips. Both parties had dreamed about this moment for years, so now that it was happening, it left them both feeling light-headed. Edmund pulled back and smirked.
“Who’s the flustered one now?” He asks, hand cupping her cheek.
“Does this mean you’re finally mine?”
“Y/N, I’ve always been yours. Hell, I’ll always be yours.”
Edmund made a face as if he remembered something and reached into his backpack, “By the way, I’m not the only one who missed you.” He placed a very old teddy bear in his lover’s lap.
He had raggedy fur and one green eye.
#edmund pevensie#king edmund#king edmund the just#edmund pevensie x reader#edmund x reader#edmund pevensie fanfic#edmund pevensie fanfiction#the chronicles of narnia#the chronicles of narnia fanfic#the chronicles of narnia fanfiction#narnia#c.s. lewis#c. s. lewis#modern au#edmund#fluff
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ITT Drabble?
HERE IT IS! Last one on my 1200 follower Fluffy Prompt-a-thon. (Masterlist for that here)
This takes place just before Chapter 27 of It Takes Two. Masterlist for that if you needed a refresher.
~~~~~
Rowan stepped out onto the street after finishing his shift at the gym. Even though it was close to 7 o’clock the street was still busy. It was late night shopping and people were stepping in and out of shops along the street. Which was good, there were a few things Rowan needed to buy for Aelin’s baby shower and this was his last chance to get them before it on Saturday. He already had something for Aelin in the back seat of his truck, but he wanted to get a few things for the baby.
Yesterday on his way to work he had stopped at the shopping centre he had gone to with Aelin and went to one store in particular she had taken him to. He bought her the blue floral wrap dress she had tried on to demonstrate to him exactly what a wrap dress was. She had looked lovely in it and he could tell that she wanted to buy it, but hadn’t because of the price. So, wanting to get something for her and only her, Rowan had bought it. He desperately hoped it was the right size, because he had got it on sale with a no return or exchange policy on sale items the shop assistant had told him. He’d cross that bridge if it came to it but he had a feeling Aelin would be at least a little impressed that he had managed to get it at such a good price.
With Aelin’s gift done Rowan now needed something for the baby. A bit clueless, he had done a little bit of research on useful baby gifts. It didn’t take long for him to get overwhelmed, but he had a few ideas. He had fully intended to give what he bought to the twins so they would take to the shower. But Aelin had asked him to come, insisted that he come now that they had come to their new understanding. She had said she wanted him there. Something about that had made his heart beat a little faster. They were moving forward and Rowan was excited to see where it led.
He didn’t go to his car, instead he started walking up the street. There was a baby store a little way up that he had driven past and had been looking in the window as he went by. Rowan had seen something the other day, well he thought he had seen something at least. It only took him a few minutes to get there and he looked in the window. He had been right.
There in the window was a mobile, a single halo of flowers with animals and a few more flowers hanging from it on decorative strings. But they weren’t just any kind of flowers. The door opened and Rowan moved to hold it open for a pregnant woman and who he assumed was her mother. They thanked him as they passed and Rowan nodded and smiled in return before he went inside. This store was more of a boutique than anything else. It didn't stock a large range of things, but what they did looked like they were good quality.
Rowan started to browse, looking at some of the toys and the tiny clothes. Towards the back of the store was some furniture – he could see cots and bassinets and rocking chairs – but he was making his way towards the window. The mobile was hanging there, the flowers small blooms of kingsflame, like the one that he had seen on Aelin’s dresser. They of course weren’t real but they looked as if they were the next best thing. The only thing that was putting him off were the elephants that hung from it. He didn’t think Aelin would particularly like the elephants, not that she would have anything against them but… Rowan had noticed what she decorated her room with and the little knickknacks she had around the house. He knew she liked deer, it had something to do with her family lineage. An old sigil of the Galathynius was a white stag and Aelin seemed to follow along with that imagery. But hopefully he could at least go along with something more woodland-ly.
“Can I help you?”
Rowan turned to see the shop assistant behind him, smiling politely.
“Yeah, actually,” he said and then pointed to the mobile. “By any chance does this come with other animals?”
“It does actually, it’s one of our customisable mobiles. I’ve got a book of the options at the front counter.” The shop assistant started walking towards the counter and Rowan followed. It didn’t take her long to find what she needed and soon Rowan held a large magazine in his hand. “When did you need it by?”
“Saturday actually,” Rowan said as he started to flick through the pages.
The assistant sucked in a breath. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but let me know which one you like and I’ll see what I can do. We don’t have all the options in stock at the moment but they can be ordered in.”
Rowan nodded and continued looking. There were horses and foxes, some weird looking dogs. He was hoping there would be deer but he didn’t see any. Maybe the foxes would have to do… But it turned out there was another option. He’d almost missed it because he was flipping the pages so fast in his frustration, but there on that almost missed page was the answer he was looking for. Rowan had always liked hawks, and birds of prey in general, so when he saw the little felt hawks in the book he had already decided.
“Do you have these?” Rowan pointed to the picture of the felt birds.
“Hmm,” the shop assistant said, her lip pursing thought. “We might. I’ll have a look out back for you.”
“I’ll just keep looking around,” Rowan said and the shop assistant nodded and left him to browse.
Rowan wandered around the store, curious about the products on offer. He stopped by a rack of clothes, flicking through the onesies. He pulled one off the rack and held it up. Dear gods, it was basically the length of his hand. Were babies really that small? Gripped by a mild sense of panic Rowan put the onesie back and kept looking. The next section he reached was the stuffed toys, an antique looking bookshelf crammed full of them. Peeking out between a rabbit and a teddy bear was the head of a little deer. Rowan couldn’t help but pick it up to look at it. Its brown coat was speckled with white, the hooves made of a velvety material and it had large fluffy ears. Rowan didn’t put it back down, deciding that Aelin would very much like it.
“Good news!” Rowan heard the shop assistant call out and she was approaching where he stood. “We’ve got the hawks.”
“I’ll take them,” Rowan said without hesitation.
“I can put them on the mobile if you like?” She offered kindly.
“That would be great,” Rowan said with a polite smile.
“I’m assuming you’re shopping for a girl?” She asked Rowan nodded. “We’ve got some new dresses over there,” she nodded to her left. “Just if you were interested.”
The shop assistant headed for the front window where she pulled down the kingsflame mobile and took it over to the counter. Rowan went over to the clothes again with renewed interest and looked at the teeny tiny dresses. A blue one caught his eye, almost the exact same shade as the dress he’d bought Aelin as far as he could remember, just without the flower pattern on it. It came in a few sizes, and reading the tags he was a bit lost as to what they meant. He soon worked out the more zeros there were the smaller the item was. Still not really comprehending the exact size of babies he thought going with a 00 might be safest and hung the hanger over one of his fingers.
By now he had pretty much looked in all the sections of the store except the furniture. Just before the furniture Rowan stopped at the display of bedding. Ignoring the sheets he looked at the muslin wraps, which there were piles of. From his very cursory searches he deducted that these were an essential item, with many uses apparently. He glanced through the stacks, seeing if any caught his eye. He paused on one that looked to have a floral pattern on it with some little critters too. Easing it from one of the stacks he saw that the critters were in fact little fawns. He added this to the growing pile in his arm.
At the very back of the back of the store was the alcove with furniture set up. Rowan wandered through it, looking at them casually. The other day Aelin had been browsing baby things on her laptop and he’d caught a glimpse of the screen as she’d put it down on the couch as she got up. She had been looking up bassinets, and she had also sadly muttered something about baby things so expensive as she walked away. Aelin was adamant that she would wait until after the baby shower to start buying things just in case anything she needed was given as a gift. She was an efficient shopper and knew how to cut costs, it was probably why her bookstore did so well.
Rowan started looking around intently, trying to remember what kind of bassinet she had been looking at on her computer. Maybe he could buy this for her so she didn’t have to fork out the money for it herself. It was an essential item so he could give it to Aelin as a gift for the baby shower, and besides that he wanted to. Gods, he’d been exercising so much self control to not buy everything that caught his eye. He was excited and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.
Looking at the bassinets Rowan was getting a little overwhelmed. There were different styles and some looked like they had different features, but what they did exactly Rowan had no idea. He passed one that was suspended from the roof by a large hook. The longer he looked the sicker he felt. All that was holding it up a fair few feet from the ground was some rope and a hook. There was no way in Hellas’ realm was his baby being put in one of those. Rowan turned away from the whole sight before he had a stress induced stroke just imaging the thing falling down with a baby inside it and went to look at the others. He saw one that looked similar to what Aelin had been looking at. It was a simpler design, a white bed and a timber base. This one looked much more secure with the base on the ground, and Rowan liked this one because it looked a bit taller than the others. Some of the others he had passed had barely brushed past the middle of his thigh. It would be a long way down if he was putting a baby in one of those.
He turned around and saw the shop assistant was at the counter. “Excuse me?”
She looked up and smiled and came over to him. “What can I help you with?”
“This bassinet here,” Rowan said, tapping the rim of the bed basket. “What can you tell me about it.”
“Well, this is one of the most popular designs on the market,” she explained. “First of all there’s no tools required for set up, you just attach the pieces together. Then looking at its features, it has six height positions, anti-reflex base positioning to help baby sleep if they’ve got reflux. This here,” the shop assistant pointed to the zipper, “folds down for easy and safe co-sleeping and it fits on just about any bed. Mesh ventilation is on all sides for added breathability. Just about everything is removable and machine washable, and the mattress is included.”
Rowan did not understand half of what this woman had just told him, but it all sounded good. Important, even.
“Can I attach a mobile to it?” He asked.
The assistant nodded, “You’ll need to buy a mobile arm for it but yes, you can put a mobile on it.”
“Great,” Rowan said. He was decided. “I’ll take that too. Can I pay for it now and pick it up on Saturday? It’s… it’s a surprise.”
The shop assistant nodded enthusiastically then led the way to the register. “Absolutely. Did you want to leave anything else with it?”
“I’ll take these things with me,” he nodded to what was in his arm. “But I’ll leave the mobile with the bassinet.”
“Perfect,” she said and entered some things into the computer at the register. Rowan put the items he was carrying on the counter and it only took her a few moments to scan those in too. “Would you like these gift-wrapped?”
“That would be great, thanks,” Rowan said. His wrapping techniques were atrocious. If he ever bought a gift for anyone he usually just took the receipt out of the bag and handed it over.
The shop assistant got to work wrapping the dress, deer and muslin wrap, quick and efficient. Rowan was about to pay when he saw a book on the counter.
What to expect when you're expecting
Rowan grabbed that too. “You don’t need to wrap that,” he added.
The book was for him. If he was going to be part of this and help Aelin through the rest of her pregnancy he would like to know what was going on. The more he knew the better prepared he would be for whatever was ahead of them. Because they were in this together.
“Ready to go,” the shop assistant said and Rowan paid. She put the book and wrapped items in a bag and handed them to him. “Thank you so much.”
Rowan gave her a small smile and nod in return and left. He was almost to his truck when it dawned on him what he had just done. He had just bought Aelin a bassinet for their baby. What if Aelin didn’t like it? What if there was another one she had been looking at that she wanted? What if he had just completely over stepped and this would upset her? This was a big thing to buy and maybe she wanted to be part of it...
Rowan rubbed at his face as he opened the driver’s door and got in his truck. If Aelin didn’t like it it would be easy to return. If he’d overstepped Rowan would apologise and hoped it went smoothly. But he hoped she liked it just as much as he did. He carefully put the bag on the passenger seat then pulled out his phone. There was a text from Aelin from about half an hour earlier letting him know she was going to bed and not to worry about dinner for her because she’d eaten some leftovers. Rowan didn’t reply in case he woke her up and was secretly glad she’d gone to bed. It meant he could get his purchases into the apartment without any prying questions. It took Rowan a few minutes but his thoughts settled and he was finally quietly confident with his purchases. He didn’t waste anymore time and put the keys in the ignition and drove home.
~~~~~
He’s so cute, right?
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January 16, 2021: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2014)
I am a massive comic book nerd. Not unusual these days, to be fair. But I’m definitely up there, as far as my obsession with Marvel and DC go. And, yeah, I stick mostly to those two houses, and their various imprints.
Why do I bring this up? Well...remember this movie?
Kick-Ass was a pretty big deal when it came out in 2010, as it was a Marvel Comics movie that was completely unrelated to the relatively new Marvel Cinematic Universe. Based of a 2008 comic book written by Mark Millar and drawn by John Romita Jr., the film was directed by Matthew Vaughn, and featured a more realistic take on how real-world superheroes would actually work.
Vaughn and Millar by this point at least, were friends. Around 2012, they’re getting drunk at a pub together, and talking movies. The topic of spy movies come up, and how there hasn’t really been a good, non-parody, fun spy movie, and that there should be. And that was the bulk of their conversation.
Enter Dave Gibbons, a legendary comic book artist, whom you may know from drawing the comic book that was turned into this:
Oh yeah, he’s a big deal. Gibbons and Millar end up getting together to write a fun spy comic book based on this idea. Vaughn, meanwhile, is getting ready to direct X-Men: Days of Future Past, the sequel to X-Men: First Class, which Vaughn directed. That’s a good movie, by the way, even if I have...issues...with the treatment of the X-Men in film. Maybe one day I’ll get into that, we’ll see what happens. Ask me about it if you’re curious.
Anyway, Millar goes to Vaughn with this script, and Vaughan looks at it and realizes that he needs to direct this movie before somebody else makes it. So he leaves Days of Future Past, and he signs on to...
I feel like it’s an obligation, as a comic book dude, to watch this film. I should also read the book, but I didn’t do that with Kick-Ass, so to hell with it! Let’s get this recap started! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!
Recap
Starting off with some Money for Nothing, and somewhere in the Middle East, 1997! We go into a stone temple, where some kind of mission is taking place. A surprise grenade causes the loss of one of the agents. The surviving agents are Merlin (Mark Strong), Lancelot AKA James Spencer (Jack Davenport), and Galahad, AKA Harry Hart (Colin Firth).
Hart, feeling guilty over the death of this agent, tells his wife, Michelle (Samantha Womack) and child Eggsy (yes, Eggsy) of his sacrifice, and gives Eggsy a medal.
From there, we jump forward 17 years, to Argentina where...Mark Hamill?
Holy shit, it’s Mark Hamill! Apparently, he’s playing Professor James Arnold, and being held hostage by a group of mysterious men. Just then, he’s rescued by Lancelot, showing up with some classic James Bond-style swagger and asking for a cup of sugar, sardonically.
He kicks the asses of these guys, but is SLICED IN HALF BY A MAN WITH SWORD LEGS WHAT THE FUCK????
I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was watching the best thing I’ve ever goddamn seen. And as if that weren’t enough, she’s working for Samuel L. “Motherfucker” Jackson, playing Richmond Valentine. I am...I am so pleased.
We go to the Kingsmen headquarters, where Lancelot is being mourned by the Kingmen and their leader MICHAEL CAINE, REALLY, HOLY SHIT
Ahem. Sorry, uh...the star-studded cast has basically caused me to have a minor aneurysm. Caine plays Arthur, the leader of the Kingsmen. Get it? I can dig it, I’m a sucker for a good Arthurian reference. Anyway, now that Lancelot’s dead, it’s time to find a new candidate. Apparently, the man that died 17 years ago was part of an “experiment” by Hart, which Arthur says has failed. Galahad calls Arthur a snob, and says that they need to evolve with the times. \
Speaking of that former candidate, how’s his son doing?
Not stellar, it seems. His mom is dating a very unsavory gentleman, and not really taking good care of her youngest daughter. Eggsy (Taron Egerton), on the other hand, is a carefree delinquent. After engaging in an entertaining backwards car chase with the police (it’s cool), he gets arrested. He refuses to give up his friends, and he instead asks for a phone call.He looks at the medallion around his neck, and remembers that he can use the number of the back to contact someone for help. He uses a specific code phrase, but it appears not to have worked. But then, Eggsy is turned loose with little more than a phone call. That’s when Eggsy meets Hart.
We find out that Eggsy has a high IQ and Olympic-level athletics, but has dropped out of the Marines, and has been arrested for drugs and other illegal activities. After being read out by Hart, Eggsy goes on an anger-filled diatribe about the differences in privilege between the two of them. Although it’s short, it’s a powerful speech.
But that speech is interrupted by the owner of the car that Eggsy stole the previous night, as well as his gang. They’re yearning for a fight with Eggsy, and they threaten Hart. He doesn’t take that well, as he shuts the doors and windoes to the pub. Time to teach a lesson.
youtube
Yup, I’m giving this fight the posted video award. It might be short, but it’s also one of the best and coolest sequences I’ve ever seen in a spy movie. And OH, it’s giving me that gadget shit I was missing from the Bond movies.
After one of the most enjoyable fight sequences I’ve seen in a while, Eggsy’s understandably stunned. So is his stepfather Dean (Geoff Bell), the leader of the gang that Hart beat up in the pub. He’s not happy, and he beats Eggsy in their apartment, and that scene is...WHOOF. Much to their surprise, however, Hart’s left a device on Eggsy’s back. He threatens Dean through the device, and tells Eggsy to meet him at a tailor that he’d mentioned.
Once Eggsy escapes from Dean and the gang via nest parkour tricks, he makes his way to the tailor, where Hart officially brings him into the fold, giving him the opportunity to become a Kingsman. He exposits the history of the agency as a private group of spies, meant to protect the world while not bowing to the bureaucracy that plagues government-affiliated spy institutions.
We get to go to Kingsman Headquarters proper, and yeah...yeah, it’s cool. As compared to the other recruits, Eggsy’s pretty obviously out of place. This, of course, is part of the point, as Hart believes the Kingsmen could use someone with different life experiences and background. That would be the experiment mentioned earlier.
Eggsy’s competitors include Roxy (Sophie Cookson), who appears to actually be polite to him, unlike most of the potentials. They settle in for the night...but not for long. Their quarters fills with water, as the entirety of the Kingsmen head towards the showerheads and toilets for air. While they all succeed, Eggsy is the one who actually gets everyone out, by literally punching the window.
Unfortunately, for one of the candidates...it’s too late. These candidates could die in the hiring process. Rough.
Sadly, Mark Hamill also doesn’t quite make it, as Hart finds him, surprisingly freed from Valentine’s capture. As he’s questioned, Valentine is forced to kill him via Suicide Squad implant, and barely escaped from his men. Valentine and his henchwoman, Gazelle (Sofia Boutella) are trying to figure out who the Kingsmen are, to no avail at the moment.
Back with Merlin, who’s training the Kingsman candidates! They’re all told to get a puppy! Aw. Eggsy chooses J.B. a pug, under the mistaken impression that it’s a bulldog. And I’m not a pug person...but that puppy is cute as shit.
Time marches on, and the Kingsmen continue their training. Eggsy’s colleagues continue to discriminate against him, especially Charlie (Edward Holcroft). Hart, who was knocked out by the explosion, eventually wakes up. Valentine goes around to political leaders and proposes his plan to “save the world,” whatever that’s about to mean. Apparently, that includes giving the King of Sweden a surgical implant of some kind. Huh.
This, of course includes some, uh...conflict with Gazelle.
Awesome.
Eggsy’s in the final 6! As Hart congratulates him over this, we finally get some exposition on Richmond Valentine’s plan. See, that implant is the Suicide Squad bomb that killed Hamill, and Gazelle also has one. Additionally, he’s released a plan to the world that will provide free internet and phone data...forever. Not ominous at all, that.
After a cool skydiving training sequence, only three candidates are left. Hart, meanwhile, poses as a wealthy philanthropist, donating to Valentine’s cause. As a result, he’s treated to an extravagant dinner...of McDonald’s. Yes, it is the best product placement I’ve seen in a while, in case you were wondering. That reveal was hilarious.
Anyway, their conversation turns from talking about climate change studies and concerns, to their opinion of James Bond movies, in a lovely little piece of meta flavor. At this point, they would appear to understand each other’s role in the play, as it were. Forgot to mention, Valentine’s been kidnapping anyone who disagrees with his goals, while also distributing his free internet cards. So, there’s that. But he’s also trying to figure out what exactly the “Kingsmen” are. Speaking of...
Our three remaining Kingsman candidates are assigned a mission to seduce a young dignitary. However, all three of them make a mistake, and allow themselves to get drugged at a party, by someone wanting to know who Hart and Kingsmen are. When Eggsy wakes up, he’s been strapped to train tracks. Uh oh.
Despite an oncoming train, Eggsy doesn’t give the man any formation. Which, of course, was the point. It’s Hart, helping to give the Kingsman candidates a little loyalty test, which both Eggsy and Roxy pass with flying colors. But Charlie...Charlie’s a coward who immediately gives everything up, including Arthur himself.
Eggsy gets to spend 24 hours with Hart, before being thrown headfirst into a mission. Hart explains that being a Kingsman means being a gentleman, which Eggsy isn’t. Hart, of course, plans to fix that.
They head to the tailor, and check out some spy gadgets. And much to their surprise, Valentine is also there, under the guise of getting a suit. Hart takes the opportunity to recommend a hatter, who gives him a top hat with built in listening devices. I love it.
Eggsy, meanwhile, speaks with Arthur at Kingsman HQ. He’s commanded to perform one final test: kill his pug, J.B. Which...yeah, damn, that sucks. He doesn’t do it, understandably. Unfortunately...Roxy does kill her dog. She succeeds...and Eggsy’s kicked out of the Kingsman candidacy. Which feels like a bullshit play, if I’m honest.
Eggsy steals Arthur’s car, then goes back home. As he’s about to confront his stepfather, Hart brings back the car via remote access, then explains to Eggsy that the gun was filled with blanks, and that Eggsy ended up giving up his shot. He also reveals that the first candidate to die...didn’t actually die! It’s been a ruse all along, meant to test the candidates under the strictest of conditions. Which sucks, obviously, because Eggsy’s out of the program.
And at that point, Valentine says something of note, revealing that he plans to go to a hate church in Kentucky to begin his master plan. Hart heads there, and tells Eggsy to stay put.
We get treated to just...just the loveliest of sermons. Disgusting. But then...
...that’s the point, isn’t it?
Because Valentine uses the SIM cards to create a signal that drives the parishioners crazy. Hart’s also in the church, however, and he also starts going crazy. Which leaves the question: what happens when a highly trained spy goes up against untrained civilians, has a bunch of gadgets...and has absolutely no restraint whatsoever?
A MASSACRE, THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS. And most surprisingly, it’s a massacre that we actually SEE. Hart basically kills almost EVERYBODY in the church. I’ll put the video up, but...y’know, be warned here. It ain’t pretty.
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Hart comes to, and realizes exactly what he’s done. He leaves, only to be confronted by Valentine and his men. The Bond metaphor finally comes full-circle, explained directly by Valentine. But instead of explaining his whole plan and devising some complicated way to kill Hart that he’ll inevitably escape from...
He just shoots Hart in the head. Holy shit. And this is while Merlin, Arthur, and yes, Eggsy watch on through Hart’s home feed. Looks like a new Kingsman is needed.
Arthur tells Merlin to assemble the Kingsmen. But Eggsy...Eggsy has other plans. Thinking on Hart’s words about wanting to do something good with his life. He goes to Arthur to talk to him about Hart’s death. Arthur invites him in for brandy. And that’s...when my mind exploded.
HE’S FUCKING IN ON IT?!? Michael Caine, NOOOO! Turns out that Valentine’s convinced Arthur of his true plan: a culling. He believes that the Earth’s temperature because there’s simply too much humanity, like a body trying to kill a virus. And so...he’s going to make the virus exterminate itself. And that argument’s enough to win Caine over.
Turns out that the implant is meant to protect those individuals against a neurological signal emitted by the SIM cards, the same one that went off in the church. Arthur, realizing that Eggsy understands exactly what’s going on, poisons him, then asks if he would like to join them. Eggsy refuses...and Arthur sets off the remote poison to kill him.
But NOPE! EGGSY SWITCHED THE FUCKIN’ GLASSES! I love this movie. Arthur dies, and Eggsy uses the opportunity to dig the implant from his neck. He takes that and Arthur’s phone to Merlin and Lancelot, who realize that they can’t trust anyone at this point. And so, the three of them - yes, the three of them - go to stop Valentine.
And, yeah...I can dig it. OH HOW I CAN DIG it.
Roxy goes up in an experimental vehicle to bring down the satellite, Merlin is flying the plane, and Eggsy...Eggsy’s the one going in disguised as Arthur, in order to infiltrate the mountain lair of Valentine. Here, he and the other beneficiaries wait it out, while the world literally tears itself apart. Now wearing a bespoke suit and playing the role of a gentleman, Eggsy enters the lion’s den.
But as expected, it’s time to hit some snags. Roxy waits juuuuuust a little too long, and one of the balloons in her craft pops. As for Eggsy, he meets an old “friend” of his in the form of Charlie, who’s now working for Valentine.
The missile’s fired just in time, as Charlie’s taken out and Eggsy runs for the plane. AWESOME climax here as Eggsy escapes. I mean it; it is VERY cool. They succeed JUST in time, and the satellite is destroyed. However, Valentine’s still managed to partially start the process, and they can’t do anything about that.
Eggsy’s gotta go BACK in, before Valentine gets another satellite to trigger the signal worldwide. Now armed with Hart’s AWESOME umbrella, he makes his way there under heavy gunshot. They’re also teaming up against Merlin in the plane, so he’s not doing great. And that when Eggsy has the idea...to turn the implants on. ALL of them.
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It’s amazing. Violence in fireworks. So, it’s too bad that it doesn’t stop the signal. It works, and people start to tear each other apart all across the world. But only for was long as Valentine has his hands on the desk. Eggsy manages to stop that by laying down some suppressive fire.
That provokes a response.
..This movie is, for lack of a better term, fucking rad.
Gazelle and Eggsy have an awesome fight, worthy of any James Bond movie, seriously. I really want to give it the video post honor, but I’ve done that too much already. For god’s sake, I literally JUST did that.
Gazelle dies (it’s kinda goofy how she dies, if I’m honest), and Eggsy kills Valentine with her prosthetic leg. It’s over, as the signal ends, and Eggsy even gets the girl. Not Roxy, the Princess of Sweden. Not going into it, but it’s funny.
And that’s Kingsman: The Secret Service! Honestly, I gotta say, that was a rad-as-shit movie, and...
Ooh, a mid-credits scene! Eggsy goes back home, to the pub, where his stepfather and mom are hanging out with the gang. And let’s just say...Dean’s gonna get a little comeuppance. Manners, after all, maketh man.
OK, THAT’S Kingsman: The Secret Service! And that, again, was pretty rad. See you in the Epilogue in a few!
#kingsman the secret service#kingsman#kingsman tss#kingsman: the secret service#kingsman: tss#matthew vaughn#mark millar#dave gibbons#taron edgerton#eggsy#eggsy unwin#colin firth#harry hart#galahad#michael caine#arthur#chester king#samuel l jackson#richmond valentine#mark strong#merlin#sofia boutella#gazelle#365 movie challenge#365 movies 365 days#365 Days 365 Movies#365 movies a year#user365#action january
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I apparently struck a nerve with someone and they blocked me. Just a tip dude, if you don’t like people arguing with you maybe you shouldn’t post on social media designed for reblogging, responses and rebuttles. You can still find websites that offer blogs with no comments.
But as I typed this all up i felt it worth sharing.
Pointing out similarities in ideas and actions between two group doesn’t mean I think one is equivalent to another. It means in some ways they are coming from the same place(doesn’t mean they’re going to end up in the same place) But I see you’re very good at putting words in other people’s mouths.
However you may think there’s a difference between a religious group attempting to ban a book over religious ideals, and people trying to force Ao3 to moderate to their standards, but I am going to ask what the difference is?
Also who is going to get to decide what counts as harmful/racist? I mean I get the feeling you’re something of a new-comer to this whole anti-shipping trend and aren’t aware of some of the context in history behind it.
Like the insanity of the Sherlock fandom where a contingent of people who really really preferred John topping Sherlock in their porn decided to accuse anyone writing Sherlock topping John as being pedophiles. (Surely you can understand the insanity behind that. porn written of two middle age men being pedophilia because the wrong man tops) To the point of accusing a surivor of being an abuser, as well as filming her having a breakdown(that they caused) and posting it online. https://fanlore.org/wiki/221B_Con (the 2015 con)
https://thegreenirene.tumblr.com/post/116696525144/what-happened-at-221b-con-2015-the-gender
There’s also the story that went around of a real life highschooler that was convince he had to break up with his significant other of several years because he had turned 18, but his partner hadn’t yet because him simply dating(not necessarily having sex with them) someone under 18 was pedophilia. (okay yikes)
And what about when you have people who claim that individual ships are inherently racist if you prefer them over a different ship. One example is from the Star Wars sequel trilogy where people tried to claim the Finnrose ship was inherently anti-black and racist and so people should ship Finnrey.
https://my-reylo.home.blog/tag/anti-finnrose-bs/ (rundown, with links and receipts although sadly some of the links no longer work)
So again who will get to decide? And before you say, the minors, survivors, and minorities who don’t feel safe you should try to understand that’s not a winning trump card. Because there are ALSO minors, minorities, and survivors(like me) who keep saying that they don’t feel safe in places where censorship takes place. That they find exploring the exact same topics that antis decry as harmful, helpful and therapeutic. That they don’t feel safe in places where they risk harassment, doxing, suicide baiting simply because of the fiction they like, or create.
I mean there’s an disabled artist who lost her job because of anti harassment.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1XdfUJyVYhmaahTfbxLNU0W0yVz80hmptNrCQv7KSL6o/mobilebasic
An individual is not harmed merely by some piece of fiction existing out in the void. If they stumble on it without warning it can be upsetting, trigger pain, but that means them stumbling on it. Ao3′s tagging system does an excellent job at allowing people to not see what they don’t want to. There are a few tweaks and adjustment I wouldn’t mind seeing like a permanent exclude tags so I don’t have to constantly filter out specific tags.
I doubt that there is anything you can find on Ao3 that you would not also find examples of in any large public library
Take a brief look at New York’s Public Library eroticia for example
https://nypl.overdrive.com/search?subject=21
In the comics and graphic books section i found Sadistic Boy by tori maia, which contains examples of underage sex, adult/minor sex, rape, and incest(uncle/nephew iirc). As well as Bad teacher’s Equation which features a romantic relationship between a 16 year old highschool student and a 26 year old nurse who works at the school. Again this is the New York Public library, and I haven’t started looking at more of the books(although without Ao3′s tagging system it’s a bit harder to guess the contents with just the cover)
Is there any real reason you can think of why Ao3 should be held to higher content standards than the New York Public Library? I mean they’re both based in New York State, and go by New York State’s obscenities laws.
And I’m sorry for not including sources in my earlier posts, but I was on mobile and didn’t have all of my links.
But here’s a study discussing the sex on TV doesn’t influence teens as much as people previously thought
https://theconversation.com/sex-on-tv-less-impact-on-teens-than-you-might-think-61957
Also the relationship between fiction and reality, and the ability of various media to change and shape social norms is incredibly complex. Research attempts to discover how media can influence change, but that there’s both individual effects, social effects, and the effect can be different depending on if a person knows other people in their community have seen/heard the piece of media or not.
https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/political-science-research-and-methods/article/how-does-media-influence-social-norms-experimental-evidence-on-the-role-of-common-knowledge/23D65E06CAB2876B08F12E23CD5C0539
So keeping that in mind that fanfiction is still very much a niche hobby/activity and you’re unlikely going to find an entire community(of people who happen to be living in the same area definition) reading the same fic, Fanfiction’s ability to impact reality is pretty much non-existent compared to the latest offering from Disney, Warner Brother’s or Netflix.
I can have empathy for people who are uncomfortable or feel they are hurt when they see certain topics in fiction. However I wish they would try to have a little empathy for the people who find comfort and healing within that same topic. The solution is not censorship or people stop creating taboo fiction. The solution is right there in Ao3′s tagging, people who don’t want to see certain content can avoid it, people who do want to see certain content can find it. I’m sorry but I cam going to have a hard time finding sympathy for people who demand that everyone else cater to them and their feelings without a thought for anyone else's.
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Sharp Dressed Man | Stucky | Meet Cute | 2.1k words | Ao3
Summary:
The curtain is pushed to the side and Steve automatically looks up. The man takes a step out of the cubicle. His head is turned as he looks over his shoulder to check himself in the mirror.
“Oh wow,” Steve breathes out despite himself.
A/N: This one is for my precious Helena @hbalbat based on a meet-cute prompt she's sent me. I'm not completely happy with it, especially the ending but hopefully that's just my sleep deprivation talking. Have fun! ♥
Also let's consider this my third entry for the @stuckybingo2020 because it fits.
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“OK, I might have overdone it.”
Steve looks up from where he’s going through a rack of t-shirts, each one with a more obnoxious print than the other. To his surprise there’s nobody around. After a moment he realises that the deep male voice must have come from one of the cubicles that serve as the shop’s dressing rooms.
“The suit’s nice but I think the turtleneck is a bit much for it.”
Steve raises an eyebrow, confused. Either the guy likes talking to himself or he came with someone who wandered off, instead of waiting for him to change. So Steve goes back to his search and he shakes his head a bit to himself, realising what the guy has said. Turtlenecks are ridiculous, Steve never liked them and usually they just look weird. On anyone. But pairing them with a suit? That’s a whole other level of ridiculous in Steve’s opinion.
The curtain is pushed to the side and Steve automatically looks up. The man takes a step out of the cubicle. His head is turned as he looks over his shoulder to check himself in the mirror.
“I think I’ll take the suit, though. My butt looks good in it,” the man laughs but then he fully turns towards Steve. The laugh dies on his lips. He looks around, a bit confused and then glances back at Steve.
“Oh wow,” Steve breathes out despite himself.
The thing is, the man in front of him is gorgeous. Unfairly so. He is almost as tall as Steve, his dark hair is long, pulled back into a messy bun, one strand falling onto his forehead. Steve fingers itch to brush it back behind his ear. The man’s eyes are bright and there’s a short stubble on his face that only makes him look hotter. He is wearing a dark brown suit that fits his body perfectly. But the weirdest thing? Underneath the suit jacket he has a bright, mustard-y yellow turtleneck and it really shouldn’t work on anyone. But the man looks good. It makes Steve feel a bit weak in the knees.
“Oh,” the man blinks at Steve, his cheeks going pink. “You’re not Natasha.”
Steve mentally slaps himself across the head. There’s nothing better than to drool at the sight of a random man in a clothing store. A straight man, probably. With a possible girlfriend, if Steve wanted to jump to conclusions and he usually did.
“No, I’m not, I’m just Steve, sorry. I just—Looking for—T-shirts—” Steve says, not really sure where he is going with that. “Your girlfriend must’ve wandered off somewhere.”
Not being able to look at the man's face without embarrassing himself further, Steve glances somewhere above his shoulder. His eyes land on the mirror in the changing room and he sees that his entire face is bright red. Way to go, Steve.
"My girlfriend?" the man asks, raising a brow in confusion. "Oh you mean Tasha? She's not… I'm not…"
The man averts his gaze and rubs at his neck, looking rather uncomfortable and Steve really wishes he picked a different store. But on the other hand, if he did he would never have seen this man and it would be a shame. A real shame. No matter how much of an idiot he's making of himself right now, it is kind of worth it if he gets to look at this gorgeous human for a bit longer. This guy could easily be a model. Or maybe he is, Steve wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest. Steve is an artist. He can appreciate beauty. And there is so much beauty to appreciate in this man.
So much beauty.
Steve wonders how weird it would be to ask if the man wanted to pose for him. Steve has already embarrassed himself plenty already so it wouldn’t hurt any more.
“Shit,” the man says to himself with a breathy laugh. He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to—,” he waves his hand vaguely between them and laughs again. “I just thought my friend will be useful for once and give me her opinion but apparently she just left me in the lurch.”
“For what it’s worth—you look incredible,” Steve says, sincerely. He can’t stop his eyes from wandering down the man’s body and then back up. “It—Really suits you.”
To Steve’s surprise he doesn’t get punched for—quite obviously—checking the guy out. It could be because of his size—it usually discourages people from trying to fight him, even though they sometimes want to. Like when he tells them that being racist, misogynist or a homophobe is a very fucking bad thing to be, for example. But the man doesn’t even look like he wants to punch Steve. Quite the contrary, a small smirk appears on his face. He tilts his head to the side and straightens up with confidence, even though his cheeks are still a bit pink.
“You think so? It’s not too much?” the man asks, apparently not noticing that Steve’s about to die.
“It’s great. You look great. And that’s coming from someone who despises turtlenecks,” Steve hopes that his smile is sincere, maybe even a little flirty and not as nervous as he feels.
The guy raises an eyebrow in response and he glances down before saying, “That’s fair. I don’t think there’s a turtleneck big enough to contain all of these muscles anyway. And it would be really unfair to hide those collarbones of yours.”
Automatically, Steve looks down where the two top buttons of his Henley are left open and it takes him a second to fully understand what the man just said. Is he being flirted with? Is the most attractive person he’s ever seen flirting with him? When Steve looks back up, the man’s eyes are already fixed on him, his smirk bigger and definitely more amused now.
OK, maybe Steve was too quick with labelling the man as straight. Or at least he hopes he was.
“I’m Bucky,” the man offers. Despite the fact that it’s a rather unique name—or nickname, who knows—Steve finds it quite fitting. “And you’re Steve, if I got that correctly?”
Steve nods with a smile, not really sure at which point of his mumbling he managed to introduce himself. For a moment they just stare at each other. Steve is not sure whether he wants to run or get significantly closer to the man. To Bucky, he reminds himself. Before he can do either of those things, Bucky shakes his head slightly and blinks.
“Right,” he says, taking a step back. He points his thumb at the changing room behind him and smiles. “I’d better—Gonna change and—Thanks for your opinion, Steve. You’re very—helpful.”
When Bucky turns away and grabs the curtain, Steve decides to take a chance. After all he was never the one to back down from a challenge.
“Hey, Bucky?” he calls.
With his hand curled around the curtain, Bucky looks over his shoulder at Steve. “Yeah?”
“Your butt looks really good in that suit.”
The curtain flutters close but Steve still can hear Bucky’s melodic laugh. He grins to himself.
And that’s when a small, redheaded woman walks over to the changing rooms and raises one of her perfect eyebrows at Steve.
“James? What are you wearing that makes a hot stranger compliment your ass?” she says with her eyes still trained on Steve as she reaches to grab the curtain behind which Bucky has just disappeared.
And that’s when Steve decides it’s his time to run.
Steve wanders around the mall for another hour or so. For some reason, he feels reluctant to walk into any other clothing store. It might be because he is worried he’d bump into Bucky again and embarrass himself further or it might just be trauma. It’s not ideal. Especially because his main goal of coming here was to buy some clothes so Sam would stop complaining about his “grandpa wardrobe”. Which is an obvious exaggeration, it’s not that bad. And Sam owns his fair share of khakis and checkered button-ups, so he is in no position to judge. But Steve figured that buying a new pair of jeans, some t-shirts and maybe a jacket won’t hurt.
Instead, he goes to a stationery shop and walks out with a new set of pencils and a sketchbook. The one he has is already half full anyway. Nearby, there’s a bookstore and Steve saunters between the shelves for a while, picking up whatever book catches his eye. He doesn’t really intend to buy anything but in the end he gets a sci-fi novel he wanted to read for a while but hasn't gotten to yet.
Steve would totally consider it a successful trip to the mall and called it a day. Sadly, he can imagine Sam laughing at his mumbled explanation as to why he didn't buy any clothes. So instead of going home, he decides to grab a coffee and then try to face the clothing store again. It can’t be that hard.
Rounding the corner, Steve collides with someone coming in the opposite direction. Automatically, he grabs the other person’s arm to help them regain their balance.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t—” Steve starts and looks up. Just as quickly, he completely forgets what he was meaning to say next.
It’s Bucky.
Bucky’s standing barely two feet away. His eyes are some kind of stormy blue and there are freckles splattered across his nose and part of his cheeks. Looking at him from this close is making it hard to breathe for Steve.
When recognition dawns on him, a smile blooms on Bucky’s face, “Hi, Steve!”
“Hi,” Steve just answers weakly. Only now he realises that his hand is still wrapped around Bucky’s bicep—a very nice bicep, Steve can feel the muscle hidden underneath Bucky’s layers of clothing and tries not to think about it too hard—and takes a step back, putting down his hand.
Obviously, Bucky is not in the outfit he had at the store but he still looks like he'd walked straight out of a fashion magazine. Now he's wearing a black button-up with little white dots all over it and a black leather jacket. His bun is even messier, several loose strands tucked behind his ear, but he still looks as attractive as before. Or maybe Steve is just biased.
"Fancy bumping into you again," Bucky says, seeming genuinely happy.
"You too," Steve finally gets a grip on himself and smiles. "Did you buy the suit?"
Bucky chuckles at that, blushing, "I did, actually. The turtleneck, too. Your…um, feedback was very helpful. Tasha approved, too." He glances to his side and furrows his brows. Turning around in a full circle, he looks back at Steve. "And apparently she ditched me again. I swear I'm not making her up!"
"I believe you, I've seen her back in the store," Steve assures him with a laugh. "Petite redhead, very intense stare?"
"Sounds like Natasha. She's great, at least when she's not busy abandoning me in shopping malls. Did you get whatever you needed? I didn't see you around when I left the changing room."
Tilting his head to the side, Steve just stares for a moment. Did that mean Bucky looked for him? The thought makes his insides twist in a slightly uncomfortable but pleasant way. Steve tries not to get his hopes up. The pink tinge on Bucky's cheeks doesn't help with that.
"Not really, couldn't find anything fitting," Steve says.
It's not exactly a lie, he just doesn't add that he was too embarrassed to face Bucky after complimenting his butt. Bucky opens his mouth, then closes it and bites the inside of his cheek, deciding against whatever he wanted to say. Steve raises an eyebrow at him. "What?" he asks.
"Nothing," Bucky says. "Just trying not to say something highly inappropriate again to a guy I don't really know."
The hope flutters in Steve's stomach, making him grin. At this point he's pretty confident that his initial assessment of Bucky was wrong. So he feels bold enough to ask, "You know, I was actually on my way to grab a coffee. Maybe you'd like to join me?"
"Sure, that would be nice," Bucky smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling adorably.
Steve might be a bit gone already.
"I'm still not gonna say, though. If that's your plan," Bucky adds and before Steve can say anything, he smirks. "It's gonna take more than one coffee to break me."
And this sounds like a challenge Steve's determined to win.“
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Title: Sharp Dressed Man
Creator(s): niallhoranbitches
Card number: 065
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26961397
Square filled: E2 - Muscles
Rating: Teen and Up
Archive warnings: None
Major tags: Meet Cute, No Powers AU
Summary: The curtain is pushed to the side and Steve automatically looks up. The man takes a step out of the cubicle. His head is turned as he looks over his shoulder to check himself in the mirror.
“Oh wow,” Steve breathes out despite himself.
Word count: 2118
#stucky#stuckyfic#stuckybingo2020#stucky fic#stucky fanfiction#stevebucky fic#stevebuckyfic#steve rogers#bucky barnes#ok so#i really wanted to finish and post it today#as a little gift for you#after long and bad day at work#so hopefully it will make you smile at least a bit#even though i messed up a bit#and the header is meh#but i really wanted to do an edit for it#but its late so thats how it looks daskj#sorry#also fun meta fact - natasha totally does it on purpose#she disappears just to let steve and bucky talk#and after they go for coffee bucky wants to text her#but he finds a text from her instead#saying like#'don't let go of a man who can appreciate your butt james'#'follow your dreams and lick his abs'#because natasha's supportive like that djsakdas#lmao this is way too long and i really should go to sleep#i love u helena ♥#if you got that far into tags lmao
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Life And Times of Scrooge McDuck Retrospective: The New Laird of Castle McDuck! “And I’ll Remember It Poppa! There’s Always Another Rainbow!”
Hello all you happy people! And welcome back to my look at the Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck! And to make up for lost time im’ doing two instalments this month, and with luck and my schedule holding out I plan to finish the main series in September, doubling up again for the last two months to finish this up.
Background wise there’s honestly not a lot this go round, as it’s less rooted in history and more Don Rosa’s need to settle an annoying flaw with continuity. Man oh man do I relate to that and having read comics for at least half my life, i’ve seen writers do this by the bucketload to fix decisions from other writers. Sometimes for the write reasons and sometimes because EVERYTHING WAS BETTER ON MY EARTH. Don Rosa, like most writers.. has done both.
Here though it’s for the good and for understandable reasons: Barks had Scrooge’s origin as a poor shoeshine boy from Glasgow.. but also had a rather famous and awesome story, the Old Castle’s Secret, that also gave them a giant ancestral castle. Rosa fixed this by having the McDuck’s having lost it due to a combination of being driven off the land by a fake ghost dog and poor turns of fourtune meaning they coudln’t pay the taxes to live there and were behind on taxes on it, hence the Whiskervilles having taken it over in part one.
But obviously the Whiskervilles coudln’t KEEP the castle as Scrooge owned it in present day, thus this chapter explains how he got it. It was a stroke of genius plot wise too as it allowed him to open each act in Scotland and using the castle to measure where Scrooge is in life: As a boy dreaming of getting it back, as a young man who while not a success succeeds at this, and as an older hardned man who realizes he simply doesn’t belong here anymore who has to leave his family’s legacy here behind to start a better one in America.
The only other real story is that a sequence here was based on the film A Matter of Life and Death, and Rosa detailed in his notes his quest to get a copy as the distribution rights here were a nightmare at the time. Thankfully that’s clearly changed as a quick look on Amazon shows both a standard DVD release, mentioned by rosa in the book and a snazzier release by the Criteron Collection are both easily available. He ended up getting a copy from Canada, and while he didn’t get any insight at least got a neat addition to his collection. Admittedly this dosen’t add much to the story, I just thought it was neat. So with all of that settled, join me after the cut as Scrooge tries to buy back his family’s legacy.
And Scrooge has already arrived in Scotland, having reunited with Downy and Matilda, who as a refresher is more responsible and straightlaced here versus the 2017 incarnation. Part of me DOES wish they hadn’t glossed over the reunion especially since this chapter is the last time we’ll see Scrooge and his Mom together before her utterly heartbreaking passing a few chapters down the road. But I get why we opened here instead: it’s a captivating open, with Scrooge speeding to the castle, his mother and sister trying to stave the rain off and time clearly of the essence. It sucks you in as we don’t know WHY Scrooge was summoned last time, only that it was bad enough he needed to come home, and thus ratchet’s up the tension until we find out shortly.
It turns out the back taxes on Castle McDuck are up and the castle is being sold., doing so with some glasses, foreshadowing his iconic specs wearing as the snow and brightness of the praries in various seasons mean his eyes are all done fucked up like mine. The Whiskervilles are naturally not only the prospective buyer but already trying to take the property prematurely, with Fergus and Jake holding the line, because love isn’t always on time. But Hortense is and when the Whiskervilles mock her daddy and uncle, planning to tear down the castle out of spite, her response reminds us why donald is a ball of rage and badassery...
Have I mentioned she’s my favorite part of this story? Because she is. Her response to scrooge being back is also just pure adorable.
Scrooge does get a big reunion with his dad and uncle, getting a big hug from Fergus, if squshing his cream cheese sandwitch... and yes that’s apparently a real thing. I mean I do love me some cream cheese don’t get me wrong, but it just feels weird to put it on bread as the only thing, but I guess i’m a bit spoiled with crackers and bagels in my day and age or putting it on tosat with salmon and.. saying all of this both makes me very hungry for cream cheese. So I guess i’ts not all bad it’s just weird to me, especially since I don’t think it’d keep all that well unregrigrated but I also don’t know the times that well. Or maybe when your that poor and hungry, it dosen’t matter how good it is and maybe i’m just spoiled by my upper middle class existance. I dunno. The point is i’m going to go get me some cream cheese be back in a minute. Here have some music.
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For all two of you that didn’t clear out, Fergus naturally for the time, turns out to be sexist, insisting Jake get “The Women” home.
Though Rosa gets a great joke out of it by having Jake wonder if he can even reign Hortense in. And I do love Hortense’s character. Whlie i’ts simple, she’s simply an angrier version of her son without the penchant for half-assed schemes, it works and makes her stand out against the more subdued rest of the McDuck family outside of Scrooge.
Fergus explains HOW it got so bad to Scrooge: While the McDuck ancestors pooled resources to automatically pay the taxes, eventually only having two poor old men who could barely keep their family fed and a slightly less poor pulp fiction writer somewhere in America meant the taxes piled up and the Whiskervilles are within a whisker’s reach of gettng the castle, something mentioned in part 1.
It also provides a great payoff to the first part of Scrooge’s journey: while the boy bemoans only having gotten the 10,000 dollar check from the mine sale, and that will only just about cover the castle’s taxes, he feels disheratned as it’s ALL he’s accomplished.. but in a nice moment from Fergus he points it WASN’T all for nothing: Thanks to his work they get their home back. His family can move from the cramped confines of Dismal Downs back to their ancestral homeland like they always deserved. While he may of not achieved his goal of being rich yet.. he still achieved his goal of buying the castle back, the very thing that set him on this path in the first place. It’s telling though that it takes a reminder of that, that Scrooge is loosing sight of the very human, for lack of a better term, reasons he set out: while he’s finally built a better life for his family, if just so.. all he can see is that he’s not RICH. The money is starting to cloud his judgement.. and i’tll roll over him entirely before the series is over.
The Head of the Whiskervilles shows up with the Sheirff.. whose also a Whiskerville lest you thought unfair and crooked policing was a strictly american thing. But Fergus points out their too early.. and Scrooge flashes his check. And when the Head Whiskerville scoffs at a mcduck having money... Scrooge points out he didn’t believe in ghosts either and brags about his awesomeness in the first chapter, revealing what he did and leaving The SHierff pissed and the older whiskerville ready with a plan: he decide......
Sadly not with children’s trading cards but with swords, and gets past the legality issue by simply challenging Scrooge’s pride and angering him into accepting. Argus, the head whiskerville whose name I just got from the comic, reveals his plan to the Shierff: While he’s dueling Scrooge Sheirff can snatch the bank statment.. though why Scrooge didn’t you know, cash it before coming and how an american banks tatment is valid in early 1900′s Scotland...
So the Duel is on.. and like the money he’s made, the Duel is another Marker of how far Scrooge has come and how despite still not having made his fortune yet he’s rich with EXPERINCE. His experince fighting cattle rustlers and pirates means he has the reflexes to easily outfight his opponent.. though him saying he learned how to fight “Injun Style from Buffallo Bill”, i.e. learned how to fight like a native american from a white guy and beat Sitting Bull with it just makes me feel like i’m watching that episode of Saved by the Bell where Zach has to learn not to be racist but then thinks this outfit is acceptable.
Scrooge also tracks the guy using the tracking skills he learned from the blackfeet which again feel like the picture above , but send Argus running.. only to lure Scrooge into a fight on the castle battlemnt in the pooring rain and disarming him. Luckily the spirit of Sir Quackly gives the lad his sword back and Scrooge wins the fight.. but promptly gets hit by lighting while celebrating Caddyshack style.
No really Scrooge is.. or close as he got knocked into the water and is now in heaven. Sir Quackly naturally doesn’t want to see the last hope of the Clan McDuck dies and goes to talk to the tribunal of McDucks to sort it out hence the Matter of Life And Death connection.
The Tribunal is made up of former McDucks.. it turns out Scrooge is here because of Quackly: the lighting was SUPPOSED to hit the tower, distracting Argus, and they prepare to write Scrooge off because their more concerned with golf than the fact that their whole clan’s future is on the line.. which I do not get because unless you are Tiger Woods or the Film Caddyshack, golf usually is the boring garbage water of sports and this is from someone who dosen’t like sports to begin with. I do like the Missing Links of Moorshire though so there’s that. And golf episodes of shows are usually good.. the sport itself is just incredibly boring. And I sat through Mank. I know boring. I know wanting hours of my life back. Golf is the Mank of Sports.
What we get is a pretty tiresome sequence honestly: Quackly points out the tribuanls faults while their just dicks who only care about golf. Which again, Mank of sports. Or if you prefer the Cloud Atlas of sports but with SLIGHTLY less untetionall racisim and sadly much less Tom Hanks and Hugh Grant. The point is golf sucks and while I ilke the REST of this chapter this bit just dosen’t work for me and was clearly funnier in Rosa’s head, with the assholes not thinking much of Scrooge’s achievements and only liking him when they find out he’ll be a tight wad, the only funny joke in these draggy as hell three pages, not counting the start and finish of the sequence which arnet bad, as they send him back to earth with Quackly mentioning the dime, but not giving out WHY it’s important. That he has to figure out on his own and all that good stuff.
So Scrooge uses his dime to unscrew the bolts and back at the castle while Argus TRIES to pawn it off as Scrooge being a coward and depart with the bank draft....
Damnnnn that’s badass, he gets the bank note back (only knowing because one of his ancestors mentioned it, though with his memory of the dying dream gone he dosen’t know WHY), and has Fergus run into town to pay the taxes tonight before any other shenanigans happen while he keeps the two scheming dogmen captive long enough for Fergus to get too far for them to catch up. Argus plans to go with plan “Do a murder on Scrooge”.. but fines Scrooge is far from unprotected and not the only badass in his family.. I mean Hortense exists but I mean that ther’es more than two... you know what jut look at the ghost heads.
So the two run for their lives..... also they forgot you know Hortense exists.. she’d revenge murder all of them and they both know it.
So with the land safe and the taxes paid so the Family can implicitly move in, we end on a beautiful sunrise as Scrooge prepares to leave soon. Despite all the setbacks and hardship Scrooge is deterimend to still make it and knows he won’t fail forever. When Fergus mentions Gold at the end of a rainbow, Scrooge takes that, and the golden dawn as a sign. WHen Fergus understandably asks if he’s sure he’ll make it this time.. we get a nice nod to Bark’s best and most notable painting “always another rainbow to close us out”
It’s a beauitful and inspiring statment.. no matter what you face.. there’s always a light at the end of it. Always another opportunity, another goal to reach, another hill to climb.. and life to live... and it’s one i’ve taken to heart and always will.. and one that will land Scrooge his fortune yet.
Final Thoughts:
This chapter is alright but like I said the two page sequence in heaven dosen’t really work for me. It’s just not funny enough and really shoudl’ve been trimmed down a page so we could get more character stuff with Scrooge and his family> Otherwise it’s a tightly paced thrilling chapter in Scrooge’s life, showing just how far he’s come and how far he has left to go. The DIsmal Downs chapter serve as a good marker of where Scrooge is and where he’s heading as I mentioned earlier, with this one showing that while he’s not hit his goal yet, he still got his family their true home back, beat his enmeis and is a legend to be. Ther’es always another rainbow.. and he just needs to find it. All in all a decent chapter outside those two pages, and a good setup for the next three glorious chapters.
Next Month on LIfe and Times: One is Scroogey and the other is FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD, as Scrooge meets his arch enemy and rides a motherfucking lion. And if “rides a motherfucking lion” doesn’t make you come back I do not know why you read this.
Next Time On This BLog: What is that, that Freaky Thing? It’s A naked Mole rat as we return to Kauai this time with Kim Possible and Co as Drakken tries to capture stitch and Jumba wonders if Rufus is one of his or not.
See you at the next rainbow
#the life and times of scrooge mcduck#the new laird of castle mcduck#scrooge mcduck#fergus mcduck#jake mcduck#downy mcduck#hortense duck#hortense mcduck#matilda mcduck#don rosa#comics#fantagraphics
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