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#even so I've found myself a good middle spot with a few friends who know me for *me* a good major and a lot of lovely moots
melit0n · 24 days
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"The more that I grow, the more that I've come to know; it's hard to be someone and it hurts to be nobody."
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princessmaybank · 2 months
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Wet Dream
Pairings: Bsf!JJ x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Talking in sleep, Perv!JJ, somno (?), non-con oral (f & m receiving), talk about p in v, kissing, hickies daddy kink, etc
Summary: You were having a wet dream in front of JJ.
Authors Note: I hope you like this one!
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Y/N was laying on the couch, peacefully sleeping while I played on my phone, sitting in the chair across from her. Everyone else had gone to bed already or went home. Y/N and I were spending the night but she was supposed to sleep in the bed.
"Jayj..." She must be awake now. "What's up?" I never looked up from my phone, I waited for a response but it never happened. I glanced at her and saw that her eyes were still shut. She must have just gone back to sleep.
"Mmm Jayj..." I looked back over to her, but nothing. I'm assuming I'm just hearing things, especially because the room was silent for another 10 minutes.
"Mm yeah right there..." My cheeks flushed. I didn't know what to do, I don't think she remembers that I'm here. When I moved my eyes back to her body, she was still sleeping. "Yesss, jus-just like that." Was she having a wet dream..?
Fuck this is the hottest thing I've seen in a long time. But she is my best friend I can't act upon this. "Mmm" She was moaning and making some beautiful sounds. "Jayj, stop teasing.." My heart burst and my dick sprung up. She was having a wet dream, and I was in it.
My hand slowly met my dick through my shorts. I couldn't help but palm at myself while I watched her face and listened to every word she said. "your tongue is cold..." She moaned. It's crazy how well she's forming these little thoughts, but I'm so glad she's able to. I stroked myself slowly through my pants and bit my lip.
At that moment I had a beautiful idea. Was it wrong? Yes. Did I care? Not really. I walked over to her spot on the couch and put my hand on her thigh, underneath the blanket. I rubbed up and down gently. Luckily I've been around Y/N before when she sleeps. She can be a very heavy sleeper. I'm praying that's how she is today.
I flipped the blanket off her legs so it would sit on her torso. My hand went to her pajama shorts and moved them to the side, that's when I realized, she wasn't wearing panties. That's even better.
I needed to see if she was going to wake up or not so I dipped my head between her legs and gave her a small kitten lick. "Mmmm" Her moan scared me but she's still asleep, so I think I'll be okay to continue. Who am I kidding? I would've continued regardless.
My head found its way between her legs again. I started slowly licking stripes up her cunt. After a few good licks, I stopped on her clit. My lips wrapped around the sensitive bud and I sucked on it.
A gasp escaped from her lips but her eyes were still closed. It wasn't until she put her hand in my hair and started pulling, that I realized she was awake. "Fuck yes-don't stop- please..." She dragged out. It was my mission to make her cum now. My middle and ring fingers found their way into her hole. "oh fuck" She almost yelled before I put some fingers from my other hand in her mouth to shush her. "Gotta be quiet *lick* don't wanna get caught Y/N/N" I realized just exactly what I was doing when I said her nickname, but I couldn't stop now.
I tried my best to keep her quiet while pushing my fingers in and out of her noisy ass pussy. "Fuck Jayj- I think I'm gonna cum-" She said and I couldn't be happier. I stuck my tongue in her hole and used the fingers that were in there, to rub her clit in fast circles.
She was wiggling and made little shrieking sounds, so I knew she was close. I fucked her with my tongue a little faster until I felt her warm liquid spill onto it. "oh jay...." she moaned as her hand tugged at my golden locks.
I kissed up and down the inside of her thighs. Once she came down from her high, she came back to reality and gasped. She shot up, fixed her shorts and hid her body under her blanket. Y/N was all balled up in the corner of the couch just staring at me. "What? Do I have something on my face?" I wiped the side of my mouth with my thumb, clearly being a smartass.
I dodged the pillow that was thrown at my head and let out a giggle. "That's not very nice to do, especially after I just made you cum." Her cheeks turned red. "What were you doing?!" She nearly screamed. "Shhh, don't yell, we don't wanna wake up JB and Sarah." I shushed her. "Why did you do that JJ?" She questioned quietly this time. "You were begging for it!" I said and quickly realized when I saw her face that what I said came out bad. "No no no! Not like that! You were legitimately begging me. I heard you moaning my name, and you looked so pretty...I-Im sorry.." My hands flew to my face, I felt like such an asshole.
The next thing I knew I felt someone tugging at my shorts. A pair of hands moved mine away from my eyes and made me pull down my cargo shorts. "What are you doing?" I asked almost like she did earlier. "I can't be the only one to cum Jayj. Since you already made this a thing, I'm gonna at least finish you off so we are even instead of us never talking to each other again."
"You think we'd never talk to each oth-" She cut me off by wrapping her lips around my tip and slowly swirling her tongue around it. "ohhh fuck.." I rested my hand on her head and I tilted mine back and bit my lip. I lightly pushed my hand down to make her start bobbing up and down. "Mmm faster baby.." I didn't care about the nickname right now, I'm sure I'll call her some other things soon. When I asked her to speed up she did, and fuck it felt amazing. "Just like that- fuck just like that..." Y/N was going even faster, and apparently she didn't care about making too much noise...or a mess. There was so much spit on my dick I couldn't fucking think straight. This was the best head I've ever received and I haven't even cum yet. Well, I was about to. She reached down with one hand and played with my balls while the other was stroking some of my length. Most of it was in her mouth but when she needed a moment to breathe her hand had no problem taking over. "I'm almost there, fuck don't stop." My head fell back again.
"Cum for me daddy.." She said which caused me to whip my head up as I came in her mouth. It caught me so off guard, but it did help me cum. I watched as she swallowed my load. My best friend just sucked my dick and swallowed my cum...what the fuck is happening. "Feel better Jay?" She asked innocently while retrieving some toilet paper from the bathroom to clean me up. "So much better."
About 30 minutes later we were cuddling on the couch, setting up a movie. I sat up and she straddled my lap. "I think we need to talk." She said putting her arms around my neck. "I couldn't agree more." I smiled back, placing my hands on her ass. "But that's for tomorrow, let's have fun tonight." Her lips met mine. We moaned into each other's mouths as she grinded her hips downwards onto my dick. "Someone's not satisfied with my impressive pussy eating skills?" I giggled. "It was very impressive from what I was awake for, and you'll have another chance to impress me with that tongue, but I wanna see what that dick is capable of..." My eyes widened, not only did she say I would have another chance, but she also wanted me to dick her down. FUCK YEAH!
"Just gonna sit there with those googly eyes, or are you gonna take me to the bedroom and show me what you're made of bestie?" She taunted.
I picked her up and entangled our tongues once again before walking us to the bedroom.
After I closed the door we heard a loud "THANK YOU" come from John B and Sarah.
"I guess we were a little loud baby." I giggled when I set her down on the bed and crawled between her legs. "Sorryyyy" "Never said it was a bad thing baby..next time we are home alone, I promise to make you scream for me." I smirked and started attacking her neck, leaving only hickies behind.
"You're my bestest best friend ever." She moaned out as I stuck my dick in her. "Stop friend-zoning me, especially while I'm fucking you." I pushed in harder waiting for her to respond. "Fine. Fuck me harder! Fuck me until my legs shake Jayj! I'm all yours daddy!" I stopped what I was doing because she called me that name again. "And that's why I don't call you that! Fuck me Jayj!" She teased. "Call me daddy again..it's fuckin hot." I said as I slapped her ass. "Stick your huge fucking cock in me and fuck the shit out of me...daddy.."
I did as she asked. By the end of the night we were tired, sweaty, and definitely more than just besties.
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petrichor-idyllic · 1 year
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Hiii I wanna make a request :)
SPOILERS FOR THE BOOKS AHEAD
So it takes place in the Berg where the Gladers were "stuck" in "The Death Cure". It was right after the last meeting with Newt on the Crank Palace and after that Minho wasn't okay at all. Female reader was also not good but Minho knew Newt a lot more so reader comforts Minho who is kinda off and doesn't speak to anyone and wants to let it all out but wants to be strong etc. If it's possible to end with a little spice I would very much like that :). Thank youuuu
Ooo a book request, huh? It's been a while since I've actually read TDC but I'm pretty sure I can remember what you're on about. I've also briefly skim-read a couple of necessary chapters to prepare myself which is why this took a little longer.
AFTER THE CALM
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MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST
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SUMMARY: See above. All book content. Slightly implied morally grey reader.
WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, some depressing themes and no Newt, spice, my incredibly vague knowledge of the book 'cause I read it like 8 years ago. I remember nothing about the layout of the Berg in the books apart from what I vaguely read for this piece. I'm making this shit up. Also references to Brenda and Thomas getting tied up at that party during TST.
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You don't even want to think about it. None of you did. Thomas had said that Newt was acting weird, and you all knew why.
Newt isn't immune. He never has been. He was sent into the Maze as a control variable, and he'd decided to spend the remainder of his sanity in the Crank Palace.
He's gone. Someone you've been with on this insane journey and spent some incredibly important moments with- and you're probably never going to see him again
Brenda and Jorge had settled in the cockpit of the Berg whilst you'd left Thomas and Minho to talk in private. They'd both know Newt a lot longer than you- Minho longest of all.
You're not really part of either party. You're a stranger that they found during their travels through the Scorch. To everyone's surprise, you revealed you were immune when you showed some old teeth-marks from a Crank; making you one of the few Munies that WICKED didn't manage to gather up.
You were a thief and a con artist, smuggling goods and providing drugs that you stole into infected places. It was a dangerous job, but one you did willingly. So, imagine your shock when you find two hung-over teenagers tied up in a room with one of your regular buyers.
After sitting in for Thomas' explanation and hearing all the shit to do with WICKED, you lend them a helping hand and have been a regular member of the group ever since.
It was almost fun at first. The whole group looked up to you and thought you were some badass powerhouse.
But now it all feels very real. You sit on the floor, the faint hum of the Berg sending vibrations through your skull as you rest your head against the wall. You often hid in a corner, somewhere, choosing to not be a part of the rage-filled political debates that take place. You're a sort of middle ground between the ex-WICKED personnel and the torture victims. It's a weird dynamic, to be sure.
You watch from the safety of your spot as Brenda speaks to the boys, saying something that clearly triggers Minho as he storms off, slamming the door to one of the sleeping quarters. You cringe as the action shakes the whole ship.
"Sorry," you tune into the conversation, hearing Brenda's anxious words.
"It's okay," Thomas shrugs, "He was with Newt for two years before I showed up in the Maze. It'll take him some time."
You'd always known Newt and Minho were close- easily the closest out of the group. You're not exactly a genius, but you don't last as long as you have, doing what you do, if you can't read people.
You consider Minho your friend. You don't consider many people your friend, and you still have your suspicions about Brenda and Jorge, and you're on edge every time Thomas's face drops whenever Teresa is mentioned. You're not a trusting person, but you do enjoy Minho's company.
He's witty and sarcastic, easily matching your dry humour. There's been many of times you've exchanged smirks and knowing glances during some, actually, quite serious conversations. You have similar opinions, and despite your tendency to play devil's advocate, you do appreciate having a more forward guy on your side.
Minho wears his heart on his sleeve and is more than willing to kick the shit out of someone to protect what he loves.
Not to mention, you'd be lying if you didn't find the boy attractive. It's not like there are many people out in the world that you deal with that won't eventually rip your face off with their bare teeth. So, Minho is basically a God in comparison to your last couple of flings before they started frothing at the mouth.
Brenda says something about making some food, earning some agreeing mutters from Jorge as she leaves Thomas alone, probably to process the day's events himself.
I'm a Crank!
Newt's words ring in your head. Apart from your parents, you've never been close with anyone that's gotten infected- always moving from one gig to the next and never really getting attached. So, when Newt started showing symptoms, things cracked pretty fast.
The way he was waving that Launcher at you all, wildness forming in his eyes and the screaming at you to leave. Thomas, unfortunately, was right to force you all to leave. It was becoming dangerous.
Minho didn't fight. He barely even argued. Thomas dragged him and Brenda away, grabbing whoever was closest to him. You stayed behind Jorge, preparing to be at the back of the group since you're probably the one with the most experience regarding Cranks.
You weren't prepared for Newt to speak.
"(Y/N)," you froze, glancing back over your shoulder to meet the wild eyes of the once level-headed blond boy.
"What is it, Newt?" Your voice was barely a whisper as you turned to face him. Your lack of presence wouldn't go unnoticed by the rest of the group, but you didn't know why he'd chosen to speak to you. "I thought you wanted us to leave?"
"I did- I do," your eyes never left the gun that he held in his hands, his finger never fully leaving the trigger. "Look after him, please."
"Thomas can take care of himself," you'd assumed he was talking about Thomas, after all, he'd dramatically given Thomas a note, and they all seemed to look out for the reckless boy.
"No, not Tommy," Newt almost scoffed, a moment of clarity taking over. "Minho." You furrowed your brow, "He needs someone to look after him, and I ain't gonna be there to do that anymore."
"Newt, c'mon-"
"Stay. Please, stay with them. This isn't just another job you're doing for fun anymore- this is their lives. It's Minho's life. Look after him. For me, please, take care of him. Please."
Newt had seen right through you. You never really intended on staying. Sure, you'd thought about it, especially when the boys spoke about the perfect lives they'd had when this was all over. But you never planned to be a part of that. Not really.
You'd never known anything other than the adrenaline-filled smuggling life that you had, and some part of you wasn't ready to find out who you are when you're not risking your life. You just wanted to help these guys, because people like them deserving helping. Because they deserve to be happy.
But you?
You don't know about that. Surviving after the Solar Flares requires thick skin and a strong stomach. And you have to be willing to do so inhumane things. All of which you have.
So, the plan was to keep moving, even if there is a Safe Heaven. Do you really deserve to be there?
But now, you're not so sure. For all you knew, Newt's dying wish was for you to protect and stay with his friend. And who were you to ignore a dead man's wishes?
The thoughts churn over in your skull until you finally bring yourself to stand up again. You can't leave Minho alone now. If you did, then you'd be ignoring Newt, not even a couple of hours after your last interaction.
Time feels weird, but you know he's not come out of the room in about half an hour.
You pull yourself in front of the room where Minho's hiding, knuckles rhythmically tapping against the door.
"Shuck off," his voice is wavering and scratchy, like he's trying not to cry. "I've had enough klunk for today, and I don't wanna talk anymore, alright, slinthead?"
"Wow, now I'm sure that might work on Thomas here, but you know me better than that." You force a playful tone into your voice. You'd never been good with serious conversations- if a job got too tense, you'd normally just dip and run. But that's not exactly going to work here.
And, for the first time ever, you don't really want to.
It takes a couple of seconds, but you hear movement, and Minho pulls the door open. You send him a sympathetic smile, and he pushes his lips into a thin line, sighing.
"Hi," he scoffs slightly a this as you try to push a more joyful pitch.
"Hey," he responds, though his voice is heavy. His eyes flicker over to behind you, where Thomas is sat on the sofa in the common area. You follow his gaze, and Thomas immediately looks away, doing a terrible job of hiding his eavesdropping. "What do you want?"
"To talk to you? Obviously." You rock on your heels, hands in your pockets as you look up at the taller boy. Minho doesn't respond, he just kind of looks at you. "C'mon, man, I'm just tryna help."
He gives in, sighing.
Minho nods in the direction of the room, stepping aside and letting you walk in. It wasn't exactly unusual for the pair of you to sit together or talk away from the rest of the group. But that didn't stop Brenda, Thomas, and Jorge from nudging each other and snickering whenever it happened. Even Newt used to join on occasionally.
Minho shuts the door behind him, wordlessly slippingly past you and flopping backwards onto one of the beds in the room he's sharing with Thomas. His hands cover his face, so you can't read his expression.
"You okay?" You know it's a dumb question, but you're not sure how else to approach.
"What do you think?" You sit next to his legs, which are still hanging off of the bed.
"Yeah, that's fair." He scoffs again, and he goes quiet. "Do you wanna talk about it?"
"Not really."
"Minho," you try to get his attention, but he doesn't even move. "You can talk to me, man." Again, nothing. You nudge his leg and he moves his hands away from his face. "Come on. You're just gonna feel even more shit if you keep it to yourself."
"I ain't no sissy." You almost laugh at this. Sometimes, you forget that being stuck with a bunch of boys for two years probably wasn't great for anyone's perception of masculinity.
"I never said you were, dumbass- you're a person. People feel things. That doesn't make you a pussy- or a sissy, or whatever weird fuckin' word you Glader freaks use. It just makes you human," you pause as he watches you, some form of relief washing over him, "and there ain't nothin' wrong with that."
"I just..." Minho trails off, his voice catching in his throat as he sits up. "I can't believe he's gone." He leans forward, hunched over as he looks at the floor, arms resting on his spread legs. "We went through all that just for him to tell us to leave."
"I know, but he's probably doing what he thinks is best," Minho looks at you from the corner of his eyes.
He doesn't agree with you. Of course, he doesn't. You guys have completely different life experiences. But he appreciates it. He appreciates you. You're a guide through the world as it is, and despite Brenda and Jorge's help, you have connections and street smarts like no other.
Not to mention you're hot. Like, Minho spends his nights fantasising about you kind of hot. Not just your appearance, but your take-no-shit attitude. You're not scared to fight with him, and for some reason, he's into that.
"He's my best friend, dude- I've known him for literally as long as I can remember! And he thinks he can just leave some klunky note and vanish to hang out with those psychos? And when we go to get him, he threatens to shoot us? And, obviously, I don't mean klunk to him 'cause all he cares about is good ol' 'Tommy'."
You know it cuts deep from how Minho is mocking the cherished nickname.
"After everything we went through- and he just- we- shit." His voice breaks as his face drops to his hands.
"Hey," your voice is soft and low as Minho sniffs, the events of the day, and his entire life, finally catching up to him. "Hey, it's okay." You shuffle closer, lightly placing your hand against the small of his back and rubbing delicate circles. You rest your head on his shoulder, looking up at him as he pulls his hand away.
You look at each other for a second.
He sighs, "Shuck it." Throwing his arms around you, he knocks you back slightly. It only takes a second for you to recover as you accept the hug, allowing him to find comfort in your warmth as you let him cry into the crook of your neck.
You play with his hair, mumbling sweet nothings to him as he calms himself down. You press your lips to his forehead, giving him another source of affection in an attempt to make him feel better the best you can.
He pulls away. His tear-stained cheeks and messy hair are something that you'd never expected to see. "God, this is shuckin' embarrassing."
"Hey," you wipe away some of the liquid from his cheeks with your sleeve, "no it's not, okay? This is some heavy shit, dude, I ain't judging you. Here." You run your fingers through his hair, trying to fix the state of his appearance.
You're too busy trying to fix him to notice how he's looking at you. His eyes have fallen on your lips, admiring your features like he's never even laid his eyes on another woman. You're so close, and he's so used to your lethal nature, and you're now being so nice to him and he doesn't know how to react.
He doesn't care anymore. He's lost another thing he cares about and he just wants to feel okay.
"Minho, are you-?" You don't get to finish because his lips are on yours. Your entire body freezes, eyes wide as you sit there in some form of shock.
Minho pulls away as you attempt to process what just happened. "Shuck, sorry," he mumbles upon seeing your almost blank reactions. "I just- it's just... today has been a lot. A-and you're- I don't know, really. I think I like you, but I've never liked anyone like that before so, I don't- shit. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore." He drops his head again, returning to his original position.
A small smile has crept onto your face, but you're not about to make things worse by taking advantage of Minho's vulnerable state.
"Minho?"
"Yeah?"
"I like you too."
His head perks up, "You do?"
"Yeah, but, I think you've also had a pretty shitty day and I don't want to do anything you're going to regret. I don't want you just acting like this because you want another way to cope."
Minho blinks at you. He doesn't know why he's shocked at this level of common sense, because it's one of the reasons he likes you.
"I've literally been crushing on you ever since you showed up with Thomas and Brenda," his tone is blunt and almost hollow as he's finally getting another thing off of his chest. "I fall asleep thinking about a life with you, and I get where you're coming from, but I want you."
Your chest feels tight, and you shift uncomfortably, trying to control yourself and the heat forming in you. He notices this.
"You want me?" You subconsciously lean forward, almost like two magnets pulling together.
"Yeah, I want you now, the same way I've always wanted you." His words make you feel some type of way. It's not like you've never been with anyone, but you've never had feelings for them. Not really.
Not like this.
"I just want to feel okay, and you help me."
Despite what you just said, you push your lips against his again. He lets out a nervous breath, and goosebumps cover his skin. He lets you take the lead, allowing you to show him how to move his lips. You have a lot more experience than he does, so he's not going to challenge that.
You pull yourself onto his lap, making him hum into your mouth, his hands immediately coming to your waist. Your tongue brushes against his bottom lip and he releases a groan as you take it between your teeth, lightly pulling on it.
You push him back, reconnecting your mouths as his thumbs rub your skin under your shirt. He dares to be bold, slipping them further under as his hands glide against your back. When you buck your hips against him, he digs his nails in.
You hiss, the sting being surprisingly pleasurable, which just eggs Minho on more. He thrusts up, getting more riled up and needing more friction to calm the hungar building up in him.
You move from his lips to his jaw, causing his eyes to flutter shut whilst you move further down, letting your tongue brush against the sensitive skin of his throat. You're almost experimenting; seeing what kind of responses you can get out of him. You move to his ear instead, dragging it up the side before pulling on his lobe with your teeth. You can help but smirk as the action makes the normally unwavering Runner shiver and grab at the flesh on your hips, his hands returning with a sudden jump.
You slow your grind, quickly gaining a rhythm and providing you both with a relief, even with all of your clothes still intact.
"Ah, fuck," your hand flies to Minho's mouth, flashing him a warning look. The Berg might be loud, but the walls are thin, and the soft hum won't drown out anything if he's that loud. "Sorry," he mumbles, leaning up to kiss you again.
You pull away pretty quickly, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, and he takes the hint. Struggling and half sitting up, he pulls the shirt over his head. It's enough to make you try to squeeze your legs together as you gingerly run your fingers down his abs. His breathing hitches as your hand travels lower, one arm flopping over his face, using his forearm to try and hide.
You fiddle with his belt, watching his chest rise and fall, the clicking of the metal coming undone is like music to his ears.
"Hey, is everything okay? I thought I heard-"
Thomas stands blankly in the doorway. Everyone in the room freezes. Thomas stares at the scene in front of him, trying to process what exactly is going on.
You're straddling a shirtless Minho, who is very visibly aching for more. Thomas immediately starts to change colour to a deep shade of red.
"Dude!" Minho snaps, "Don't you know how to shuckin' knock?"
You snort, climbing off of Minho's lap, clearly not nearly as embarrassed as your partner. He raises slightly, leaning back on his arms for support as he shoots daggers at his friend.
"Sorry- I didn't realise that- I just heard something-" Thomas seems somehow even more flustered and freaked out than Minho. "Brenda's made us sandwiches." He sighs, and you laugh, your legs hanging off of the bed.
"Bro, get out!" Minho snaps and Thomas seems to return to reality.
"Sorry! Sorry!" The door slams behind him and you burst out laughing.
"You guys are something else," you shake your head, and smile at Minho, who simply scoffs. "You feeling any better?" The atmosphere changes, becoming more serious once again.
"Honestly, not really," you push your lips together as Minho pulls his shirt back on, sitting up properly, "but I know that I'm going to be- some day, 'cause you're gonna stick around, right?"
You pause. Even if Newt didn't say anything, how could you possibly even consider leaving Minho? Maybe your feelings are stronger than you originally thought.
"Yeah," you lean forward, pecking him on his lips, making him smile, "I'm not going anywhere."
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Wooooo, this one was actually pretty fun to write and I enjoyed writing for something outside of the Glade. It makes a nice change and I love these types of more specific requests.
Requests are still open, I hope you enjoyed :))
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glindaupland · 4 months
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The Phantom of the Opera | Seoul, South Korea | October 8-14th, 2023 [REVIEWS]
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Wow it's about time I posted these reviews that I kept lying about (this week! tomorrow! in 10 years!) Better late than never?
In this post I'll drop a few general things about the production, but the performances are analyzed in my reviews linked here. I recommend reading those all in order since I revisit points about actors I've made previously along the way to avoid repeating myself. Also leaving a disclaimer that these performances are from October so there are some changes in what the actors are doing now (with the exception of Jeon Dong-seok since he left in November) Apologies in advance for my wordiness, but this is more of a "release my feelings for my sake and if anyone else likes it that's cool too" kind of thing? Listen - I wrote a lot of notes on my performances there. So just go in knowing this is the more coherent version of my insane looking notes app!
Before I start I want to thank a few lovely friends who helped me out with this trip because it wouldn't have gone as well as it did without them!
Thank you to @lucygold95 for helping me so much with planning over the past months and for giving me the best time in Busan. Thank you @capitanogiorgio for all the shenanigans we went through and the most special time going to the 1500th and meeting Yoon Young-seok. Thank you to @fadinglandtragedy for the fun talks and the good advice before my trip! The best part of things like this is making friends of course! : )
PERFORMANCE REVIEWS:
| October 8, 2023 | October 11, 2023 | October 12, 2023 | | October 13, 2023 (M) | October 13, 2023 (E) | October 14, 2023 |
STAGE & THEATER
This was as close to the original staging as possible. So I was able to take it in one more (or I guess 6 more?) times post-Broadway closing. The Charlotte Theater is a lot smaller than the Majestic so every view was pretty solid in my opinion, even the second to last row. I took a video of my view from 4th row under the chandelier during the exit music on October 11th so you can see! The angel and chandelier are shown halfway through. I'd say 5th row was almost the cut off for the chandelier drop (that was my spot next day) Broadway seats in this area were always too expensive for me so I'm glad I was able to grab these spots for this production
There were photo zones you can take pics at which you've probably seen. One was a large rose wall, the other was the cute statue of their mascot 오���령. People also take forever lining up for the cast boards for photos and yes I was one of those people. Here's a comparison of the cast boards from the second season (pictures I found when reading old reviews on Naver) and the cast boards now (I forgot to take a photo of one on the top floor though)
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I found this review where someone took more detailed clean photos than I did if you're curious about the layout and decorations!
MERCH AND GIFTS
The tickets had these designs! If you booked on Yes24, you received a special envelope and a ticket holder with the face of the Phantom performing for that show
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I only didn't receive a second Ju-taek because that was booked on another site - Interpark (bottom middle ticket). I also received paper masks with printed autographs every day I went to commemorate the 200th performance of the run/100th for Seoul and the 1500th overall Korean performance. We used them for the curtain call photos on those two dates (with Jeon Dong-seok then Kim Ju-taek). There are multiple versions of the program book and at the time of writing this I have all except the Daegu one. The first Busan program book was pretty bare and only had the teaser pictures - the same was the case for my Les Mis program book in Busan. -There are different photos in each one, so to me it was worth grabbing them all. My third version signed by Kim Ju-taek is currently on display as you can see below! (The writing says "내 노래를 날게 해 주오 - Make my song take flight") Once again thank you to Lucy for this! 🥹❤️
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Here's some of my POTO merch (including a spare cupsleeve from the coffee shop next door, I also had a keyring, but I forgot to show it) RIP to the second program book I sacrificed for scans I still have the pages stored/displayed though! I'm not wasteful! I'll have more to post soon after sharing these reviews
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TRANSLATION
Let me emphasize this: my Korean abilities are limited, so don't look to me as the expert on this at all. But I'll still share my notes and perspective as an outsider who's studying The lyrics have changed quite a bit since 2001-2. There are still lines kept or songs that are mostly similar. MOTN had a lot of similarity to 2009-11 even with its changes, STYDI was identical to 2009-11, but Angel of Music was pretty different from even the last season, etc etc. The Phantoms all have unique lines sprinkled here and there, mainly in MOTN (this happens sometimes in Korean musicals). You get some things like random single line changes in some parts depending on the actor or different order/wording of the same lines as well. Just tiny diversions from the script. This is the case for the Christines and Raoul to a lesser extent. Additionally, actors are often permitted to do some occasional improvisation/ad libs. Some unique lines are pretty normal parts of their interpretations now, some appear depending on the feeling of the performance, some are one time only events. I'll mention some of the actor-specific ones and such in their actual reviews, but I have been trying to mark down all of the differences like these for example
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Of course, some things obviously have to be adjusted to make sense because of cultural / linguistic reasons. So one example would be the "Wrote...written" line in Notes I. Firmin speaks rudely and informally, but quickly tries adding a more respectful ending particle 요 after Raoul and André give him a shocked 'what did you just say?' kind of look. So "대체 뭘 썼다고 하는 건데...요!" is pretty much like "What the hell are you saying I wrote?" André would look so embarrassed by this each time 🫣
퇴근길 / STAGE DOOR
Stage door doesn't really work the same as it does in places like New York, London, etc. Most of the time if an actor comes out it's more like a quick greeting or chat with the fans. Some actors (not in this case) might sign or take photos in designated spots, but it really depends and it's not so common. It's gotten more restricted ever since COVID as well. 퇴근길 -> "way home from work" is literally what this is called. Dong-seok did wave at us a few times happily after the 200th performance, Gun-ha briefly came out to thank fans after the 1500th while Ceci and I waited to meet Young-seok who had agreed to meet us. I did not have the time (or strength) for the Seung-woo mob, but he usually greets fans after shows.
I literally asked Yoon Young-seok directly on Instagram if Ceci and I could meet him and give him gifts because I figured it didn't hurt to try! When he agreed, my anxiety was not necessarily about meeting an actor, but more about my ability to express my thoughts in another language. But he was truly the sweetest guy and incredibly patient. I think he got that I understood everything he said, but that replying was a whole other challenge. I'm glad I was making enough sense that he was able to get my points and helped me finish sentences if I looked stressed about it 😂 I basically told him I had been planning this trip since the cast announcement because it was too perfect to miss and that I came for 6 shows. I really like to listen to his Phantom on the cast recordings and I thought he made the shows I had seen so far so much fun.
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We both said where we were from (the US and France) and he was amazed. He was also shocked when I pulled out my original Korean cast recording (I still laugh thinking about the way he said "와, 세상에!" like "Wow, oh my god!" and enthusiastically took it agreeing to sign when I was mid-way asking him haha) I also thought it was funny when he asked Ceci if she saw his Phantom last season. We wish! But she mentioned she had gone to Busan a few times and he looked very touched and appreciative that we went to multiple performances 🥹 This poor man was tired he signed our things with November (11.13) though and he also spelled Ceci's name wrong first time, but it was the 1500th show though okay. And if he says it's November...who are we to question him? Ceci should also legally change names so he isn't wrong. Anyway, ramble over you can find the art we made for him in this post
OTHER
Here's just bonus fun I had that I will manage to connect to POTO despite it not being POTO because I love doing that. I mean I went because I like these musicals as well (otherwise I would've been foolish enough to go see Ben-Hur but I have, uh, standards for my plots sorry to Park Eun-tae 😭), but it's fun to point out these things. I'm happy to share my show experiences in a different post if anyone's interested in my thoughts on those
Rebecca
I went to see Rebecca, mainly focused on seeing a scheduled date for 이지혜 Lee Ji-hye (Ich) and 장은아 Jang Eun-ah (Mrs Danvers). The whole cast was fantastic. Some Korean musicals have special encore bits they do where the leads sing a part of a song from the show during bows so that was really fun. Unfortunately, we don't get to have fun at POTO like that haha
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Lee Ji-hye was in Y&K Phantom as Christine in the same cast as Jeon Dong-seok (Erik), Yoon Young-seok (Gérard Carrière), and Lee Sang-jun (Cholet). Two other cast members in Rebecca were in Y&K as well - 에녹 Enoch (Maxim) who was Philippe and 신영숙 Shin Young-sook (Mrs Danvers) who was Carlotta. Sadly, they had such few shows this season due to a busy schedule, so I couldn't see them (when will trot give Enoch back to musicals). Original Korean ALW Raoul and Y&K Erik 류정한 Ryu Jeong-han was also on rotation as Maxim, but I picked another day for my show so I didn't see him either
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Les Misérables
I went to opening night of Les Mis in Busan! It was the Dream Theater, same place POTO played at before. As many of you already know, Choi Jae-rim is playing Jean Valjean at the same time as the Phantom.
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I could recognize him easily as the Phantom, but honestly when he appeared at the very start of Les Mis it took me a minute to process that it was him! While I did enjoy his Phantom a lot, I think I enjoyed his Valjean performance a little more. It was only opening night, so curious to see how things develop!
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The actor who played Javert that night, 카이 Kai (stage name), was a former Y&K Erik for two seasons too. So many Phantoms!
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Frankenstein
On the last day I got to see Dong-seok and Ji-hye once more in a concert for the musical Frankenstein which they have been in together. So have some pics I took without a mask blocking his face!
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Ending Note
Thinking back to December 2022 when I said: "Maybe I'll go to Seoul and see Dong-seok once or twice and that's it" That was funny. That was really very very funny and silly of me to say. 9 performances and 6 of those were POTO! But I'm so grateful and I have zero regrets about it. This is one of the best experiences I've had even if it might look ridiculous to some people to do something like this...I don't care! I hope my crazy essays can help paint a good picture for you!
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cceanvvaves · 8 months
Text
kiss and make up; i.ny
(moved to isanggayfrog) warning: swearing
I sat on a fairly comfortable armchair amidst a crowd of partyers. Jennie, a good friend of mine, had invited - no, begged - me to come, and because I was tired of her pestering me, I agreed. I calmly sipped my drink, crossing my legs and scanning the sea of people for a familiar face. Unfortunately, I found few, and all of those few people were in the middle of a conversation. Sighing, I leaned back in my chair, absentmindedly swirling my glass around.
Growing bored as I was left alone, I decided to look for Jennie and tell her that I would be leaving. I got up on my feet, setting down my glass and grabbing my purse, starting my adventure. I navigated my way through the maze of dancing people, some making-out as if eating each other's faces and making me roll my eyes. Ugh.
Finally, after difficultly brushing off the interest of men on me, which I did not return, I spotted her speaking with a tall girl with bangs. I walked towards her, but was stopped by another familiar figure approaching her too. A girl with bunny teeth, wearing a black suit. Shit, why is Nayeon here?
Nayeon was another friend of mine, but at the moment she was not someone I wanted to see. We had a fight a few days prior to this party. A stupid fight, really, as it was about something about me staying away from other guys. Nevertheless, the two of us did not want to explain - perhaps out of our own pride, and this night did not change what I feel. Nayeon surprisingly apologized first, but did not seem to mean it, which irritated me.
Not wanting to be seen, I fished out my phone and dialed Jennie's number. I saw her hand move to her pocket, asking the other girls for a moment before leaving. Once she picked up the phone, I immediately hissed at her. "Jennie, you didn't tell me she was going to be here!"
Even if I couldn't see her face, I could tell she was confused. "Who's she?" she asked, confirming my thoughts. I ran my hand over my face, not wanting to say her name. "Nayeon..." I mumbled.
"What's wrong with her being here?"
"We had a... a fight."
"Oh. Shit, sorry! But I can't tell her to leave-"
"No, It's okay, I'm going to leave instead."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
"Alright. I'm so sorry, we can do something else next time."
"Thank you," I said before hanging up. "I didn't know you were here." A voice said, surprised but also surprising me. I whirled around and found myself face to face with the person I wished to avoid the most. "Oh. Hey," I muttered, fixing my hair. She didn't reply, so I moved to leave, but she grabbed my arm.
"Y/N, about that day-"
"Save it, Nayeon. I'm tired of you apologizing over and over again without explaining. "
"I'm sorry! You don't know how hard it is for me when you're away." I tried to keep my face void of emotions, but her words caused a light blush to coat my cheeks. I can't deny the fact that I've also craved for her presence in the short time we were apart. "Then explain," I said plainly.
Her face heated up. "I'm sorry.. umm..," she stuttered, seemingly having difficulty finding the right words. I raised an eyebrow questioningly. She sighed deeply and took hold of my arm, dragging me to a more private space.
"Y/N, the truth is... I don't like you hanging out with guys because I think one of them will win you over."
"And what's wrong if they win me over?" I said, raising my chin.
She ran a hand through her hair, messing it up. She took a step closer, making me take two back. Her expression seemed darker, and her gaze forced me to look straight into her eyes. "Because.." she whispered, leaning in closer to my face. Her breath tickled the shell of my ear. "I like you."
Nayeon hesitated, so I took the chance to grab her by the collar and smash her lips onto mine. Her lips were soft, cushioning my own. I felt her cold hands make contact with my exposed waist, making me shiver. I pulled away, looking into her eyes for a reaction.
Her lips pulled up into a smile, but instead of kissing me again, as I expected, she pulled me upstairs into a single bedroom. "I'm sure Jennie won't mind." she mumbled. She pinned me against the wall. "You don't know how long I've been wanting to do this."
"Do it now, then." I said, my voice low. Smirking, her lips found their way to mine again. Her hands roamed my body, wherever our skin touched felt like fire. She had me in complete control, and she knew it. She pulled away and started attacking my neck, pressing kisses along my throat. I was in absolute paradise, feeling bliss in every part of my body. I blanked out, the only thing I could focus on was the warmth of Nayeon's body on mine. "Having fun?" she asked. "I'm yours." I whispered,
"I always have been."
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hella1975 · 1 year
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hey I have life advice to ask and if it's not cool then just go ahead and delete this-
I'm gonna be 17 soon and I was pulled out of school due to stuff I couldn't really control, so I dont really have a college/university to expect in about 2 years ish if I cant pull through out of my depression/anxiety and take the GED tests (american testing, its like a substitute for a highschool diploma, which is.... shit idk the differences to england but either way if I cant study and complete 4 giant tests, colleges/universities wont be available to me. I think.). I really could just move about anywhere I'm able to, and there's this place that I really, really love. I've done everything I can to know about it besides GOING there, because it is incredibly far away from my home. Really fucking far. It's been smth of an idea of mine I've held on to a year, like all the towns and places I dive into I just keep coming back to that spot. It feels like the one, like I can't really see myself growing old because of my depression but I can SEE it there, and I've never felt that.
The thing is I know from a few older mutuals of mine (and just other adults in gen) that things can change and while you might go to uni/college for [X Thing] you'll come out with something else you found so you'll now have [Y Thing]. like what you're expecting or want is going to change as you learn more or delve into it. I don't know how much I should take that to heart really? There's this fear that's been placed into me that I can't actually think for myself if I'm always going to be changing. I'm so confident about this rn but what about later? Sorry if this freaks you out too JFNSJMW like we're about 2-3 years apart but it just feels like so MUCH, I wanted your advice since you've got the uni experience I might miss out on
(My family is fine really like they're not going to kick me out or anything, they've just got other problems ig that I'd like to escape from because a lot of what they do has me just.. stuck with myself. It sucks being a teenager because I'm just in the middle of it all)
hi anonstie! sorry for the slow reply to this, i hope im not too late to any decision making. thank you so much for trusting me with this, it's a really scary situation for any teenager deciding on something that seems so defining, let alone with mental illness factors and possible family pressures. trust me I GET THAT. so everything i say is my opinion very tainted by my own bias and personal experiences, but you know that and asked me anyway so im gonna assume we're clear on that okay:
so as someone who not only has the uni experience but overall LOVES uni like could not have picked a better option i love my uni life i love my friends i love my independence so much that i stick doing a subject i HATE bc i love my life here so much - coming from someone in that position, you want to know what i think? if you're not sure about going to uni and genuinely think you'd be happier elsewhere, do not go. im being so serious. university is a challenge, and people know that, but you have to take what you think it's gonna be like and double how hard it really is. it's a fucking culture shock and a half and even those who settle in well (i like to think i did) still have trouble finding their feet, and it's fucking scary. you have to have a level of certainty to manage it. idk maybe im being too extreme here but ive seen so many people who regret uni and are the loneliest they've ever been, and if you already have mental illness weighing on you that's not a boat you want to be in even if you might not end up like that.
the option does not vanish just because you didn't do it at the 'correct' age. i can see ur stress around the exams and while i know fuck all about american education, i refuse to believe there's no ways around it or ways to redo at a later time, or even if you do just wind up with not very good qualifications, somewhere will take you. i was convinced that if i didnt get out of my hometwon at 18 with the natural progression in academia then i would be stuck there forever, and part of me still believes that no matter how silly it is, which is why i outright refuse to drop my subject even on the days when it eats me alive, because i think if i drop out i'll get stuck in my hometown. uni was an escape for me and that's one of the reasons i love it so much. but over time, while it still lingers i wont pretend it doesnt, ive realised how wrong that mindset is. there's so many types of people at university. some people come onto campus with their children. some people are middle-aged. some people just did a gap year. my own flatmate is a second year uni student just like us but she's a year older bc she dropped out of first year bc of covid and reapplied. uni made me realise how common MESSINESS is. i hardly know anyone who got here on the really straight and narrow route, and maybe that's just part of being the covid cohort who knows but there's not a 'correct' way of doing things.
idk i think school is very rigid UNTIL you reach eighteen, and bc the universe is such a bitch you only realise how fluid everything gets post-eighteen ONCE YOUVE MADE THE DECISIONS.
so yeah, if you want to know what i think? chase that place that's calling to you. worst case scenario is it lets you down but you finally scratch the itch; that alone is something to live for. if you ever change your mind, university and that path isn't going anywhere. there's always so much choice, we just sometimes box ourselves in until it feels like there isnt
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celestialpotat0 · 4 months
Text
I'm definitely old now
In 2023 I struggled to reconcile my desire to stay out late at night and make memories with my desire to have a restful sleep schedule. In my 20s I would regularly leave the house after 11pm because many spots and events don't get lit til around 12am. In 2023 I think I pretty much always chose sleep over staying up. Was supposed to go clubbing for my friend's birthday party, and I really wanted to go. But I probably wouldn't have been home til 3am, which would inevitably cause me to wake up early to go into work after some sleep-deprived days. I'd risk making mistakes at work or thinking too slowly at work, which could cause patient harm. Then I'd go home from work and be too tired to meal prep, work out, clean, study, etc. so that day would be wasted. And it'd take prob a few days to correct the 1 night of staying up too late. So i told him wouldnt be able to stay up late for clubbing, and in a way i shocked myself at how unfamiliar this new me is, given how much i loved going out dancing.
The Killers have a special place in my heart because their music transports me back to the middle school version of myself. I listened to Hot Fuss so many times in middle school and the drama spoke to my angsty, emotional, and insecure self. that younger version of me who constantly dreamed about a grander life. When they came to SF, I knew that it'd mean so much to go to their concert; I have this obsession with nostalgia and attaching sentimental significance to certain things so I can commemorate memories and try to relive or reexperience them. (yes i realize that was extremely redundant word choice but idc bc i gotta head into work in a bit.) But I decided with difficulty to miss their concert since I had early morning work the next day.
I have extra special fond memories of NYE in past years- gathering with lots of strangers, dancing, bundled up under thick layers and scarves to ring in the new year. in those moments that you're gathering and celebrating and chanting the last ten seconds of the year out loud in unison with everyone around you, you KNOW you're going to remember those exact moments of revelry and joy for years to come. but i turned down my friend's invitation to celebrate this year because i had work in the morning on New year's day.
These are just some examples of when me in my 20s might have leaned toward going. While I admit the clubbing may have been the pursuit of hedonism as dancing is joy found in a simple act of moving to music and allows me to leave all my worries behind off the dance floor, the concert was more about nostalgia and NYE was more about creating memories. In 2023, there were many other times when I consistently chose over and over again to NOT stay out late. Mainly because I felt an obligation to be responsible for my job. friend invited me to watch a movie that starts at 7pm next Friday--I told him I'll have to sit this one out because idk if i'll even be awake by the end of the movie.
a 7pm movie on a friday evening is too late for me now... welcome to my 30s.
I've recently started to reframe my perspective on getting older. im obviously starting to realize now that I feel way more wrecked on 5 hours of sleep than i used to. body aches appear spontaneously now. the appearance of my body and face is not what it used to be. but im actually really appreciating the present, because i think about how in my 40s I'm going to WISH I could be back in my 30s. And in my 50s I'm going to think man I really had it good in my 40s. So thinking of future me makes me appreciate the body I have today, and I actually feel grateful. I'm quite proud of shifting my perspective because when I was like 28-30 I used to feel miserable about the thought of getting older. I had best fully appreciate this time now, because it will slip away into the past, so I want to savor it all now while Im lucky enough to have it. i will say the weights ive been lifting have been the heaviest theyve ever been, so there are small victories.
My really dear friend is in her 90s and has sciatica. She has been in a lot of pain. But the other day I received a package from her in the mail. She'd sent me pecan pie and cookies. To know that she baked a pie and cookies and packaged them up and shipped them over to me from San Clemente, all despite her sciatica pain, is one of the most meaningful acts of kindness i've received. As i get older I also better understand just how much love is delivered through food. anyone who has cooked and prepared food for me, i realize how much it takes to do that and the abundance of love that is poured into and expressed through food. im so inspired and touched to witness that kindness and am grateful our paths crossed.
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Nonsensical disorganized OFFENSIVE rant bc I have no one to talk to, an everyone tells you you can only trust in or rely on yourself and everyone is ultimately alone.
Idk Warning: triggering if you consider yourself my friend ig. It's a rant let me express my fucking feelings man. I need to let it out. You don't have to read this if it'll offend you. Might as well go in my notes app but writing here is comfier and can let me send it to the void.
I guess I will write this here bc it's a better place to write than even my notes app and I know no one actually gives a ducking fuck about what I write or have to say ever.
And I kinda have no one to talk to/rely on... Which ironically is what what I'm writing is about lol
But lately I've been genuinely asking what the point of connecting with other people is?
Idk maybe this is why I have found it so hard to interact with people and just get by with my own company. I just don't see the point.
Like, everyday you hear how you must be self-reliant and self-sufficient because people won't always be there for you... Nay people will NEVER be there for you, you can't trust people or rely on them, either bc they have their own problems or whatever.
And you don't want to come across as a needy little bitch like me, (that's why people always leave you -my therapist and my family)
And surely all my life I've tried to get by on my own. Hell, early on I learned that I couldn't even rely on my own parents (the people that are supposed to take care of you and love you?) for anything and had to do everything myself. I was either neglected emotionally and physically (learning to make myself food) or I even had to parent my own parents. Like, my mom always used me as an emotional dumpster, and whenever my parents couldn't figure something out they'd turn to me, I cannot count the amounts of times they used me as a counselor to help them decide whether they should geta divorce or not... Like my mom talking to me about... how miserable her sex life was.
And... I also have always had the tendency for being the "therapist" friend, even people who didn't know me used to use me to dump their problems on me in middle school bc I was so "mature" and a "good listener" and always knew just "what to say".
If I had a dollar for everytime someone has told me I should study psychology I probably wouldn't need to work at all at this point.
One of the few people from my childhood who still talks to me (more on that later) has even claimed that I literally saved her life on a couple of occasions. I won't go into too much detail out of respect for her privacy but... Let's just say that she was going through a real rough time in middle school, she came from a really neglectful family where her older sister played the part of her mother only to pass away the same year she found out she had a condition that disabled her. On top of that her sister had left behind her three kids who, fell into my friend's caregiving so (first you loose your sister/mother figure, then you are disabled and then you have to take care of three kids while you're in middle school).
Needless to say she was in a rough spot, and many people started treating her differently or didn't talk to her anymore, I remember I would always see her outside of her classroom during recess alone either in a wheelchair or next to her crutches and I would just... Talk to her IG? It could be bc I'm neurodivergent, but I never saw her any differently and would still talk about the nerdy interests we used to talk to about before everything, like the most recent Marvel movie etc (way before it was "cool" to like marvel). Maybe at most it was a "yo what's up? When did you start using crutches? It's been a while since I saw you! Have you watched this movie yet?". Maybe it's bc I'm super dumb and oblivious but I never even "realized" she was technically "disabled" until much later, for me she was just my friend, and sure maybe sometimes I noticed I walked faster and she struggled catching up, but it was never a big deal for us? For me she was the same person I knew before, and I even admired how much of a badass and strong she was? Idk, she was always so tough and never let people get on top of her. She was literally the person you could always go to if you wanted to kick someone's ass or insult them.
I did however notice that at some point she seemed really off and down and when I asked her she told me about her sister, which I didn't know about. I don't exactly remember what my response was but she told me I was the only one who knew what to say and was able to comfort her and actually "see" her, and she later confessed I literally saved her life that day.
I guess I just tried to be the friend I wish people were to me for the longest time?
I remember I would also do my best to remember people's birthdays so I could surprise them that day and make them feel like at least I cared about them even if no one else did (hehe projecting much am I?). If someone was struggling I tried to be there bc I wish someone would have been there for me many times before.
And I guess it was nice... But then I've also learned I can't really rely on anyone but myself?
Like, I'm the person who's always there for people when they need me, but the time I need someone to be there for me (even if it's just a shoulder to cry on) there's absolutely no one?
I'm the one who remembers everyone's birthdays, but no one remembers mine. Or the one who always has to be strong for others but can never rely on anyone else so I'm left in this state where I always have to be strong and it gets exhausting? Where I always have to pick myself up without anyone's help or anyone even giving a fuck about how I'm doing.
And I know it's not always bc people "suck" or don't "want" to be there, but they just aren't?
Remember that friend I mentioned? I love her to hell and back, but I also know I can't rely on her when I need someone. It's hard to explain but everytime I've needed someone she either wasn't there, told me to get over it or the conversation ended with me trying to comfort her (?). For example the day a loved one died and I needed to talk to someone I thought maybe I could rely on her but she ended up just talking about her sister (years later) and I ended up being the one comforting her instead, when I was the one who at the time needed comforting. (And when I've tried communicating this it has turned out into her thinking she's a horrible person and me trying to reassure her she's not, even though I was just telling her I needed someone to be there for me)
(WHICH I don't mind, I would always be there to listen to her but that time I wasn't in the best headspace to be dealing with other's people's emotions on top of my own!).
Later the same people I had always been there for literally left the moment I came out of the closet.
A few months ago another friend told me she loved candy corn and it was her favorite food/candy but they don't sell them where she lives, so one time when I found some I immediately thought of her and bought them... Well just when I was talking with her and telling her about getting her candy corn and talking about seeing her so I could give them to her, she just ghosted me soon afterwards and I have never known why or why she just... Ghosted me out of nowhere.
A close friend of mine actually stopped talking to me after he found out I had a depression diagnosis... No not bc I was a "bummer" when I was with him or bc I talked about my issues with him, just bc I HAD depression and he didn't want to be associated with "those people" (that and his gf... Who I helped him get with actually, didn't want him to talk to me anymore).
(I actually remember how I was in a phonecall with him when I was telling him, and I was crying... Actually the first and only time I cried in his presence... bc my dad and brother where making me take care of them and treating me like shit bc I was "a woman" and it was therefore my "job" and when I told him about my depression he just got disgusted and hung up and never spoke to me again, he only ranted to his friend that people like me just didn't want to get better and where not good to be around).
It seems that everyone eventually leaves when they find something, even if it's the most trivial thing about me they don't like?
And idk ig.
Even my fucking therapist was like "fuck you you don't try hard enough I'm done with you".
Like everytime I could use someone, I'm left completely alone?
And at the best of times it's bc they themselves are not available but the other half it's literally people using me? Or just not giving a shit?
I remember a time when I opened up about... certain sexual abuse I had been through and that girls response was "oh well you'll get over it", which really hurt? Bc it was really hard in the first place for me to open up about it? Or then there's the time my uncle died or when I got COVID and no one even asked me how I was doing, one of them even went as far as being like "oh okay well talk to you again when you're back to being okay and fun and not as much of a bummer to talk to" (It was actually the same girl... Which btw I later found out was only interested in/playing with me and hitting on me bc I had become some sort of fetish... Being trans.... Between her and her bf... Also oh yeah she didn't even tell me she had a boyfriend, I had to find out).
Point is, people are only there when you're fun to be with, or when you can provide something for them. No one really likes you for you, and when they find something about you they don't like (even if it's you being queer) they scram. And it's nice and dandy and all, I can be there for people right? I can be strong and only rely on myself, it's what I've done all my life. I've learned that no one is to be trusted. But the thing is... Sometimes I get tired of being strong all the time, of always being there for others when no one's there for me. Of being the friend I wish I could have but having no friends ever be like that with you (hell even remember your birthday or... Care when you are going through shit... Like REALLY care, not tell you "go to therapy, I'm your friend not your therapist jeez" when someone close to you dies, say "I'm here for you" and then just ghost you or tell you to "just get over it" or "get back to me when you are fun again" or... Just talk over you and talk about themselves).
Heh I bet most of the people who consider themselves my friends even now don't know that much about me... Like my interests or things I don't like or a stupid fact about me... Even though I could write an entire Wikipedia page on them.
Hell I'm not a stranger to people using me to talk about themselves and completely ignoring me when I say something about me.
And it's not for lack of communication or trying or reaching out on my part, I have asked for help on multiple occasions, or tried to reach out being like "hey I'm not okay, I could really use a friend right now" to no response.
Just today I was going through a crisis and I asked for help, in my IG stories... 30 people saw it (some of which I'd call friends) and not one replied nor cared. (Which yeah? Instagram? I actually felt pretty stupid tbh and ended up deleting it but idk it still stuck in my mind).
Again, it's nice and dandy but sometimes it does leave me with the question of what the point is (?)
Like, what is the point of having a romantic partner if people are untrustworthy and unreliable? Why would you want to be with someone who's never going to support you or care about you? Ig sex would be one but that's what hookups are for, or paying rent but then you can just get a roomate?
Even meeting people on dating sites seems to end in just wanting to fuck or even if not no one really tries to get to know you or help you get to know them it's just "yo let's meet up, let's fuck" and me being like "uuuuuhhhhhh I don't even fucking know you?????". Or on the OTHER hand you establish a good conversation and open up and then you get "yo, send noods", and me "UHM no I'm not really into that sorry" and then the conversation resumes and you think it's going fine only for then to be like "yo common I want to see you naked send nudes open a Snapchat for me so you can see my dick" not giving a shit that you said that makes you uncomfy, nor giving a shit about how you... Feel or about you at all, it's all so you can give them sexual pleasure.
What's the point of having friends if it's just people who use you till you have nothing left to give and eventually dump you when they get tired of you?
Why bother making social connections when every self help advice and therapist will tell you that you can't rely on people and must be self sufficient etc?
For emotional support? Well no, not even that, they will tell you you have to be there for yourself so emotional support is clearly not it.
To have fun? Everyone says you have to be happy with yourself and have fun by yourself... YOU CAN'T RELY ON OTHER PEOPLE.
Maybe I'm just broken for how clingy and needy I've always been and that's why people keep taking advantage of me lol
What are friends for? What's the point of "socializing" if you have to do everything yourself? If you can never rely on no one? If even if you're always there for people it's inevitable that no one will be there for you when you most need it?
Idk man, I'm just feeling shitty right now. I'm tired of feeling like I have to be strong and okay all the time.
Of only being able to rely on myself and trust myself etc, of everything always falling on me.
It's like... What's the fucking point man?
Also people always use me to vent and I try myself to give advice or listen or whatever but no one does that for me ever so like I guess I'm coming to the place where... Let me look I was cancelled bc OTHER people decided I'm a monster and I deserved to be cancelled... Cool.
Anyways, off into the void you go dear post.
At least I'm not crying anymore, just depressed. But hey since it's not external anymore, that's better at least I can now pretend I'm fine <3
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helloalycia · 3 years
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overstepping [one] // jane banner (Wind River)
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summary: after getting several voicemails from your colleague and best friend with her asking for your backup, you attempt to call her back, only to get no answer.
warning/s: mentions of rape, murder and injuries.
author’s note: this is a two parter because i finally watched Wind River and it broke my heart but also lizzie was v cute and i felt the need to write this, hope you like it x
part two | masterlist | wattpad
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"C'mon, work you stupid phone," I complained for the millionth time, before standing on the chair to get a better signal.
When I saw the bars in the corner of the screen increase, a grin appeared on my lips. I loved my parents, but the fact that they lived in a remote cabin in Tennessee with zero signal was not my favourite thing.
When the bars remained, my phone decided to actually be helpful and receive all the messages, calls and voicemails I missed. I did a brief flick through, noticing nothing was too important that couldn't wait for me to return to work. As an FBI agent, I rarely got time off. And now that I had taken a two month vacation to spend with my parents, I was adamant on enjoying it, even if I was missing work a smidge.
Next were the calls, which I noticed were mostly from my colleague and close friend, Jane Banner. I furrowed my brows, realising she'd left me several voicemails, too, which was strange since she knew I was on a break from work. What could be so important?
I sighed, glancing down at my uncomfortable position standing on the chair and leaning above the wardrobe. It was the only place in the house with decent signal and the only other place that wasn’t in the middle of nowhere was twenty minutes out. Telling myself I'd just listen to one voicemail to make sure everything was okay, I played the earliest message.
"Hey, Y/N. I'm sorry, I know you're on a break, but I just had to talk to you," it began, and Jane sounded troubled. "I was in Vegas, as you know, but I've been called out to a reservation in Wyoming where this poor girl was–" She paused, releasing a shaky breath. "She was raped and left to die out in the cold. I thought I could send in another team to take a look – y'know, usual protocol. But the coroner won't rule it a homicide and you know what that means."
I swallowed hard, knowing exactly what that meant. If it wasn't ruled a homicide, no backup would come and we had to move onto the next case. But if this girl was raped and left to die, the rapist was still out there and wasn't getting caught by the FBI.
"I can't just leave it and go," Jane continued quietly, with that recognisable passion for her job evident in her voice. "I have to do what I can. But I... I can't do this alone. It's not like other cases, Y/N. It's different out here. And there's only so much their police department can do. I know you're on a break, but I was hoping that, maybe, you could come out here and help me? It's the Wind River Indian Reservation. That's it, I guess. Bye."
The message ended and I found myself chewing on my lower lip anxiously, unable to think about anything other than Jane now. She'd worried me with that one voicemail alone – I couldn't imagine what the others said.
She was usually so good at dealing with cases, but this seemed different. She sounded shaken up, attempting to put on a brave face by the sounds of it. What was so different about this case? She didn't need me. She was capable.
Curiosity got the better of me and I played the second message, ignoring the discomfort in my arms as I stretched to maintain the signal. It was left a day after the first one.
"Hey, so I just remembered that you said you don't get much signal up there with your parents," she began apologetically. "I don't mean to– shit, it's so cold..." There was a pause, a noise in the background, then she continued, "Sorry, just turning up the heating. Anyway, I was saying. I don't mean to intrude on your break. I just– I'm hoping you'll find signal and hear this because I could really use your help. I think we've got a lead on who may have done it. It was hectic today. Really could've used that backup."
She chuckled dryly at her attempt at a joke, but all I felt was guilt. She sounded exhausted within a day of being there.
"I hope you get this," she finished with a sigh. "I should go. Got a busy day tomorrow. Hope you're doing okay. Bye."
I wasted no time in playing the next message. Three days into her case.
"I don't know why I keep sending these," she began with a hoarse voice, and my heart clenched at the sound of it. "You clearly aren't getting them in time. But it's easier talking to you like this than not at all."
It went quiet, so quiet that I thought she may have finished and forgot to hang up. But then she spoke up again, a whimper escaping her lips.
"It's so hard," she admitted. "We've covered worse cases, but this one... everything about it makes me uncomfortable. Something doesn't feel right. I've got a lead – we think it might be the boyfriend who did it and we're gonna see him tomorrow. But I don't know."
I frowned, squeezing my phone tightly because I didn't recognise the girl speaking as my friend. This girl sounded broken and I wondered what she could have discovered that made her like this.
"I've got the police department with me for backup," she said with a sniffle. "And Cory, he's a hunter whose been helping me with the case. They're all gonna be with me tomorrow. But I wish you were here, too. You always make things easier."
The lump in my throat wouldn't disappear no matter how many times I swallowed it. She made things easier, too. Always. And all I wanted to was be by her side and be there for her like she always was for me.
"Sorry about this," she said with a watery laugh, and I could imagine the embarrassed smile on her face as she did. "I sound like such an idiot. Never mind these messages. Just enjoy your break. I shouldn't be worrying you like this. See you when you get back."
The message ended and I checked to see if there were anymore, but to my disappointment, there wasn't. That message was from a few days ago and she hadn't sent anything since which was concerning in itself.
Trying not to panic for no reason, I called Jane. Hopefully everything was okay and I was being stupid. She was a fully-trained FBI agent. She could take care of herself. Right?
The call rang and rang, but nobody picked up. One missed call. No biggie. She probably heard it and couldn't find her phone or something. So, I tried again.
More ringing and no answer. Okay, no big deal. Just try again.
Another call and no answer. The chewing on my lip became more intense. Why the hell wasn't she picking up? Was she still working the case?
I waited an hour, trying again at ten minute intervals, unable to fight my concern. But there was no answer every time and I realised that I couldn't sit and wait for her to call back. Not after how she sounded in those voicemails.
No, I had to go there. She needed backup.
Wyoming was way colder than I could have prepared for.
I mean, technically, I prepared for nothing. I bid my parents a goodbye, threw some random clothes in a bag and caught the next plane over there. I tried for Jane's phone constantly, knowing she was never one to ignore me for this long, but there was no point. She wasn't answering, which could only mean so much.
When I reached the reservation, I had no idea where anything was or what I was looking for exactly. I just knew that as soon as the taxi dropped me off in the centre of town, I didn't know where to go.
There were a lot of locals hanging around, so my first port of call was to ask them if they'd seen Jane around – or Agent Banner, as she may have introduced herself. I showed them a picture of her on my phone, described her with vivid detail, but they just stared at me like I was crazy. I was starting to believe I was at one point, until I stopped by the convenience store.
As worried as I was for Jane's whereabouts, the chill in my bones was real. Especially my hands, which I was certain would fall off any minute. So, I decided to buy some gloves and also ask the cashier if he'd seen Jane around or heard anything of her. Whilst I was doing that, a customer caught my attention, probably having overheard my conversation.
"Did you say Jane Banner?" he asked with a quirked brow, interrupting my purchase. "The FBI lady, right?"
I nodded quickly, facing him. "Yes, that's her! D'you know where she is?"
He nodded casually. "Yeah, she's in the hospital. That big shootout that happened a few days ago, right?"
My stomach dropped. "The what?"
"The shootout," he repeated, not aware of the concern in my face. "At the drill site. A bunch of officers were killed and the FBI lady was one of the only one left standing." He tutted as he shook his head. "Very lucky that one."
A shootout? The hospital? Only one left standing? No wonder she hadn't been answering her calls.
"Can you– do you–" I stopped, clearing my throat and trying to stop freaking out. "Which hospital?"
After getting the address from him, I caught a taxi to the only hospital in town and prayed to God that Jane was okay. The one thing she'd asked for was backup and I couldn't even give her that. If I'd just looked at my messages sooner... fuck.
Getting past the front desk and to Jane's room was no issue at all. A quick flash of my FBI badge was enough for the receptionist to give me the details and wave me through. My heart was constricting in my chest the longer it took. What if it was really bad? What if that customer's intel was outdated and Jane was– no. I couldn't afford to think like that.
Upon finding Jane's room, I spotted an older man leaving through the door, being careful to close it behind him. I didn't recognise him at all.
"Excuse me," I called, earning his attention. "Is that Jane Banner's room you just came from?"
He seemed surprised, glancing over his shoulder to make sure I was speaking to him, before nodding. "Yes. Sorry, who are you?"
I pulled my badge from my pocket and showed him, though I doubted anyone would take me seriously when my eyes were watering at thought of Jane being severely injured.
"I'm her friend," I said, swallowing down the lump in my throat before lowering my badge.
"Oh, you're the backup that didn't come," he said with realisation.
My eyes flickered to the floor guiltily. He wasn't exactly wrong.
"I didn't mean it like that," he added quickly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."
I shook my head, lifting my eyes to meet his. "It's okay. I should've... I should've been here." It went quiet as he didn't know what to say, so I looked to him halfheartedly. "I assume you're from the police department, one of the ones who helped Jane."
"Not exactly," he said, before putting out his hand for me to shake. "Name's Cory. I'm a hunter by trade."
Returning his handshake, I recalled Jane's voicemail. "Oh, yeah, she mentioned you... thank you for helping her out."
When I couldn’t, I added in my head.
He offered me a small smile and I couldn't find it in myself to return it. I must have looked like shit, since he gave me a pitiful gaze.
"You want me to catch you up before you go in?" he asked, nodding to Jane's door. "She's okay by the way."
I nodded, sucking up a breath. My nerves were eating away at me the longer I didn't see Jane – half of me was terrified of what I'd find, and the other half was afraid she'd be upset or angry because I left her to it, even when she pleaded for my help.
Cory and I took a seat down the hall and he proceeded to explain about the case and how they found the guy who raped that poor girl. The shootout was the worst bit, making me shiver with discomfort. Apparently, Jane had gotten blasted with a shotgun, puncturing her torso and neck despite the vest she wore. All of the officers with her were killed and by the sounds of it, Jane almost was, too. But Cory managed to take out the criminals and the rapist himself. When he was finished telling me, I had no words.
"She's a bit shaken up, but her surgery went well," Cory reassured with a short nod. "Does she know you're coming?"
I shook my head, voice thick with emotion. "She wouldn't answer her phone. I guess I know why now."
Cory nodded, rubbing the back of his neck before sparing me a consoling glance. "She talked about you a lot. I think it'll cheer her up seeing you. You should go."
My eyes met his, teary and stinging with unshed tears. "Thank you so much."
He shrugged bashfully, but he didn't realise all that he'd done. I gave him a small, tight smile before standing up with a sigh. No point dwelling anymore – I had to see her.
Pushing my selfish feelings aside, I sucked it up and approached Jane's room. She would either want to punch me or not, but either way, I had to see if she was okay. And so, when I opened the door slightly, heart racing in my chest, said heart jumped in my throat at the sight of her.
She was laying on the bed with wires stuck in her and, only from what I could see, bandages were covering the side of her neck. I thought she was sleeping at first, but then her head tilted towards the door curiously, and bright blue eyes widened with disbelief.
"Y/N?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "What are you– how did you get here?"
I closed the door behind me and hesitantly approached her bedside, unable to stop my eyes from soaking in the sight of her. She looked so feeble and vulnerable and unlike how I saw her last. Then, Cory's words came back to me and I began to imagine the worst scenario of her getting shot, blood seeping from her wounds, the life draining from her eyes...
"Y/N," she called, and I looked to her startlingly, hoping I didn't look as troubled as I felt.
"Sorry," I said, clearing my throat. "I, er– the messages. Voicemail. I heard them and tried calling you back, but..."
She pursed her lips, exhaling with a wince and looking up at the ceiling, as if suddenly remembering she left messages in the first place.
"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," I said quietly, guilt seeping back in.
"No, no, don't be," she said, and I just about noticed the pink dusting her cheeks. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't have interrupted your vacation like that. I know you said you wanted a break and–"
"Jane, no, don't even say that," I cut her off, reaching for her hand in an instant. She looked my way, eyes flickering between mine nervously. I squeezed her hand gently and said, "I should have been here. You needed me and I– I didn't come. Maybe if I had, this could have ended differently."
She tried to smile, but I could see the discomfort in her eyes. "It's not that bad, honestly. It just looks bad."
I pressed my lips together, eyes falling to the bandage on her neck. Even though it was big and covered her wound, I could still make out the bruising around it from the impact of the shell. I didn't imagine the torso wound looking any different, and that thought alone made me regret leaving her alone. It was very much as bad as it looked; I knew that and she knew that.
Her lips trembled as she avoided my eyes, her own tearing up. I pushed away my guilt momentarily and changed the subject.
"So, I met Cory. He seems like a great guy."
She didn't say anything as she seemed lost in thought. Either that or she was trying not to cry in front of me. I hoped it wasn't the latter, since the last thing I wanted was to make her feel uncomfortable.
"You know," I said, when she wouldn't speak, "I'm pretty sure I told you to stay safe before I left for my vacation."
At my poor attempt to lighten the mood, she cracked a small, tight smile, but a smile nonetheless, and my racing heart slowed down momentarily.
"I'm glad you're okay," I said, now that I had her attention again, and she looked my way with a softened expression. "Kind of okay. But you know... okay."
Thankfully, she knew what I meant and her hand tightened around mine.
"I'm glad you came," she returned, and I couldn't look away even if I tried. She was always able to trap me with a single gaze.
With a tug of her hand, she motioned for me to sit on the edge of her bed, so I did. And then she began to ask me about my vacation, what I'd been up to this past month, how my parents were... basically anything and everything except for the case. And it was understandable, since she was reminded of it all the time. If I could be a form of escapism for her, so be it. It was the least I could do.
We spoke for hours until the nurse came in to let me know visiting hours were over and I'd have to come back tomorrow. With a regretful sigh, I got up from my seat on her bedside and stretched my limbs.
"Where are you staying?" she asked, a slight frown on her lips.
I smiled awkwardly, realising I didn't think that far ahead. "I'm not gonna lie, I don't know. I came straight here. There's gotta be a hotel or something in this town, right?"
She nodded and flicked her hand to the shelves on the other side of the room. "You should stay in my room in the inn. Key's in my bag over there."
"Oh, I don't have to do that–"
"Y/N, it's not like I'm going to be staying there anytime soon," she cut me off, smiling halfheartedly. "Please."
I chewed on my lip and nodded, giving in. When I grabbed her keys from her bag, I stopped by her bedside and gave her a supportive smile.
"I'll back first thing in the morning, if you don't mind," I said, and she finally gave me a smile that reached her eyes.
"I'd like that."
I nodded, resting a hand on hers and squeezing comfortingly. "Goodnight."
Though I knew Jane was okay, I still couldn't stop myself from thinking about her all night. The sight of her wounds and the broken expression on her face was enough to keep me awake. And the guilt that came with it all... why couldn't I have just picked up my damn phone?
As promised, I returned to Jane's hospital room the next morning, this time bringing some breakfast snacks from the hospital cafeteria since I knew the food would be much better than whatever they were serving her. Judging by the content expression on her face when I gave it to her, I was right.
When she finished eating, she was able to sit up slightly and move over on her bed, urging for me to join her and watch some TV with her. There was no way I was going to turn down that offer, so I slid next to her and kept a packet of sliced apples between us as we watched whatever was playing on the TV.
About halfway through watching, she spoke up randomly, taking me by surprise.
"When are you leaving?"
I tore my gaze from the screen and realised she was staring at me with intense green eyes.
"When you're well enough to," I answered truthfully.
She looked down to her hands. "You don't have to stay with me. You can go."
I studied her profile, knowing it was the wrong time to appreciate how stunning she looked even when she was makeup-free, sporting a bed head and tired.
"Do you want me to go?" I asked softly, afraid I may have overstepped.
She was quick to shake her head slightly, finally lifting her gaze to meet mine with glossy ones. "No."
I nodded, trying very hard not to smile, cleared my throat and grabbed her hand. "Then I'm not leaving. I'll be right here until you get better and I can take you home."
A ragged breath escaped her lips as she nodded in response. We both looked back to the TV and I noticed she didn't let go of my hand, her fingers warm to the touch and giving me goosebumps at the contact. But I wouldn't have had it any other way.
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mintelepathy · 3 years
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"From now on, you won't be alone anymore"
idol!jungkook x reader/oc
word count: +2.0k
genre: fluff¿
warnings: swear words¿
summary: jungkook can't stop thinking about the girl he met at a convenience store in the middle of the night and he can't help but return to see her again.
mlist
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Jungkook can't sleep today, he's been sitting on the floor of his living room for almost three hours now, a piece of paper placed on his coffee table and a pen in his right hand.
Writing lyrics was easy when he felt inspired, but today it wasn't the case, he really wanted to make some progress with his mixtape but it seems that it wasn't the right time now.
He gave up. He knew that his attempts to write some lyrics were in vain for the moment, he needed to do something else, maybe something that could inspire him.
He often goes for a walk at night around his neighborhood, the later it is the better for him, it's the only time of the day where he doesn't feel like being spied, he understands what fame brings but sometimes people really step out of the line, and he wasn't happy with that, let's not misunderstand, he loves when fans approached him respectfully and talked to him, he just doesn't like when people follow him around with bad intentions.
He didn't even waste his time changing his clothes, he grabbed a coat because it was chilly outside and headed to the streets.
The night was quite peaceful, mostly because it was 3 in the morning, but it was a different kind of peace, and he enjoyed it. Trees filled the area where he lived creating a gentle wind, feeling the night breeze was something he loved, he stopped walking for a moment and took a big breath with his eyes closed. The air felt clean compared to other days.
When he opened his eyes the first thing he spotted was a convenience store crossing the street. He usually doesn't have any late snack, even more now that he is on a diet, but today he'll make an exception.
He made his way to the store with no rush and opened the door, it was his first time there, it wasn't like he didn't visit convenience stores often but that he had never seen that place before the times he went for a walk.
He greeted the girl who was working there and headed straight to the shelves looking for kombucha tea and ramen, he had the intention of eating the ramen there since those kind of stores had microwaves, so people were able to prepare their instant food and eat it right away.
But there was a problem, the kombucha tea was nowhere to be found.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the counter, you found yourself watching the boy who just entered the store looking around the shelves for something unsuccessfully, you decided to make your way towards him to see if he needed any help.
"Excuse me, do you need help with anything?" The boy was wearing a big black bucket hat and a black face mask so it was quite difficult to see how his face looked.
"Uhm yeah, do you sell kombucha tea?" It was crazy how kombucha tea was being sold lately.
"Yes we do, but it's sold out at the moment, I heard somewhere that a singer recommend it and people got really interested and bought it until stores ran out of it" a giggle escaped his lips.
"I think I know who you are talking about" he took off his bucket hat to fix his hair, and put it back quickly. You could see his eyes for a split second and you felt like you have seen those eyes before, they were so big and pretty, like bambi eyes.
"Oh really, who is this famous singer then?" You knew you have read or heard about this guy but you couldn't remember his name.
"Jungkook" there it was when you realized.
"You are Jungkook" he just nodded. "I knew you seemed familiar" you confessed. "Anyway, is there anything else I can help you with?" You asked politely.
"Can I use the microwave?" He was the first person who asked you if they could use the microwave, people often just used it without asking.
"Yeah, of course" you made your way to the counter again and sat in your chair.
You couldn't help but watched him as he prepared the ramen, working there, and at night, was boring as hell so you never missed the opportunity to talk to customers when you had the chance, but you weren't quite sure if you should go and try to have a conversation with him. You didn't want him to think that you were approaching him just because he was famous.
Seeing him preparing ramen made you feel hungry, you also wanted to eat some so you didn't think twice and went to grab a cup of ramen.
He was sited just right besides the microwave so it was impossible to ignore his presence. You saw that he forgot to grab chopsticks so you picked two pairs from a shelve.
"Here" you said as you handed him the chopsticks.
"Thank you" he gently grabbed them, he had taken his bucket hat off so you were able to see him more properly now. "I see you are hungry" he said and you smiled.
"Yeah, I've been staring all night at those cups of ramen and I couldn't hold myself when I saw you preparing it" you said calmly trying to make him feel comfortable around you.
"Should we eat together then?" His question took you by surprise, he was being so sweet considering you were a completely stranger to him.
"I don't think I'm allowed to do this, but yes" you sat on the only chair left, which was besides him, and waited until your ramen was done.
"Would you get in trouble for eating with me?" He sounded concerned.
"Just if my boss finds out, but he is never around and almost no one buys things at this hour, so I don't think he'll know" fuck your boss, you didn't really like him, he was really rude to everyone.
"Well, in case your boss finds out, I can come and tell him that it was all my fault" it was the second time he made you smile.
You were ready to get up when you heard the microwave was done getting the ramen cooked, but Jungkook got up faster and brought it for you.
"Thank you" you said as he sat again, you both opened the chopsticks and started eating, even though he could start eating his ramen sooner he waited until yours was ready.
He obviously wasn't wearing his face mask anymore so you could see his features clearly. He was stunning. "What brought you here so late?" You asked him to start a conversation.
"I was trying to write some lyrics on my apartment but it didn't turn out how I wanted, I also couldn't sleep so I decided to take some fresh air, then when I was walking I saw this store and well, now I'm here" he took another bite of ramen. "Do you work here all night?" He asked you.
"Yeah, until 6am, it's kinda scary going back home alone after work because I have to walk and it's still dark outside when I leave, but anyways i'm here just during the weekend tought, I'm studying at collage so actually this is a part time job for me, I don't spend too much time in here" you could noticed he was really paying attention to you, he stopped eating everytime you talked.
"Can I know what are you studying?" You didn't know if he was really interested or if he was just being nice, but you were so happy now that you could spend some time talking with someone.
"I want to major in audio visuals, my parents weren't happy when I told them what I was going to study, they wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I didn't listen to them, is that a bad thing?" You asked him, you barely knew him and you were already asking him for advice, considering you didn't have close friends maybe you really needed a therapist to talk this things after all.
"I think you did the right thing, it's your life, you should do things that makes you happy" he made emphasis in the you part. "And you will learn from the decisions you make, not from other's" wise words.
"What about you? Are you happy with the life you have right now?" Both of you had already finished eating, so you were ready to listen to him closely.
"I am, I'm not happy everyday but I'm happy with my life so I can't complain, I just sometimes wish I could do things that are normal for most of the people" you completely understood his point, and you felt sad for him, everyone deserved that kind of freedom and you can see he couldn't have it.
"You know, when I saw you preparing the ramen I really wanted to talk to you because that's what I do with most of the people who comes here, but I was afraid you might think I only approached you because you were famous or something like that. So I just want you to know that even though I know your name or your face, it doesn't mean I know who you are, and for me you are just like everyone else, I won't treat you any different just because you are famous, I won't go and tell everyone that you were here or anything like that, I also know I can't take you to do all the things you'd like to do, but one thing I can offer you is an honest friendship, I bet Jungkook from bts is great, but if I'm honest I don't really care about him, I care about the real you and I'd love to get to know you more, I met you just a moment ago but I can see you are a really good person" everything you said was the truth, and he had to know that there was someone out there who cared about him. That's how you were, you cared about others.
"It's the first time someone tells me something like that, I really appreciate it" you would love to say that his words surprise you but they don't, and that's sad.
"I think I should go back to work right now" he nodded. "Oh and you don't have to pay, I invite" and with that you went back to the counter.
He stayed on the chair for a few more seconds doing something but you didn't know what because you could only see his back from there.
He got up later and made his way to the door. "Thank you for make me some company, see you soon" you didn't have time to say goodbye to him because he had already left. Have you done something wrong? You asked yourself.
Time passed and it was time to go back home, your coworker came in time so by 6am you were already out of the store, you didn't start walking though, you couldn't believe who was in front of you.
"Jungkook? What are you doing here?" Was he waiting for you?
"You said it was scary going back home alone, so from now on, you won't be alone anymore" it seems that you actually didn't do anything wrong after all. "I left a note on the table we shared" oh shit, you didn't see it.
"I didn't see it, sorry" you were about to go and look for it but he stopped you.
"It's okay, don't worry. It just said that I'd love to have you as a friend, and since you invite the ramen I hope you can accept my invitation to drink something some day" he seemed shy now, maybe that's why he didn't tell you this in person.
"Yeah, we can definitely go to drink something together, and as friends now" you smiled at him as he bite his lip cutely.
"Should I take you home now? You must be tired"
Yes you definitely were.
"Let's go" you said as you both started to walk next and close to each other.
There was no way you would forget this night.
I hope you enjoyed reading this one
A like or reblog is always appreciated :)
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milkybonya · 3 years
Text
i'm not the same boy you knew back then
Warnings: food mentions and some angst, party mentions
Pairing: Yedam x (gn)reader
Summary: where Yedam broke your heart in high school because he didn't know how to act but now he's desperately in love with you and wishes you still felt the same :")
word count: 5.8k
inspired by Walls by All Time Low (it has explicit language! be careful~~i've put a link for it at the veryyy end of this fic)
[a/n]: I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY FOR THE FLASHBACK PART OF THIS OML I'M SORRY FOR THE CHAOS AND MESS BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY
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Hey there it's good to see you again, It never felt right calling this "just friends". I'm happy, if you're happy, with yourself.
"Isn't that Yedam?" your friend, sat beside you, asks. They point to somewhere behind your head, and naturally, you turn around to follow their finger with your eyes.
As the doors to the lecture hall swing shut, a familiar boy begins to walk quickly down the steps. While grinning, he decides on a spot near the back, far away from your almost front-row seat. You let out the breath you didn't realize you were holding and face the front.
"Since when did he go to our university?" your friend asks, also facing the front now.
"I have no clue," you admit.
You'd purposely accepted an offer at a faraway university to avoid having to see Yedam ever again after high school. High school had become one of the worst times of your life thanks to him.
-
Yedam's pov
As soon as I enter the hall, I find [y/n] with my eyes immediately. They look at me with a mix of shock, disgust and hatred, but seeing them fills me with so much joy that I can't help but smile.
Deciding not to bother them, I pick a spot near the back and sit down. I wonder to myself if switching to [y/n]'s school was the right choice...
-
[y/n]'s pov
It was obvious you were too much for me. Oblivious, I was young
Back in high school, you had the fattest crush on one of the school's most popular kids, and you hated yourself for it. It wasn't like you could control your feelings... but your heart was set on him. His smile made you feel so warm and you felt happy despite him not having the slightest clue who you were. You always watched him from afar, peering at him as he walked into the classroom while waving at all of his friends before taking a seat at the back.
By some chance, you got paired with him for an assignment. You thought he would be disappointed, since he had never spoken to you, but contrary to his somewhat intimidating aura as a result of him being a popular kid, he smiled warmly at you as you introduced yourself.
"I know you're [y/n]," he said quietly, looking down at the assignment instructions in front of him.
"How do you know?" you asked him.
He looked up and leaned in closer to you to whisper into your ear, only after being sure that no one was watching.
"It may not seem like it, but I do know my classmates."
When he moved back, he flashed you a grin before returning to the assignment instructions again. Your heartbeat was flooding your ears.
After meeting up several times to do the research and plan out the presentation together, you and Yedam somehow grew closer. You had always thought he was some sort of chic, cool guy, but he turned out to be super soft and sweet. The two of you laughed at each other's dumb jokes and procrastinated late into the night sometimes, only beginning your work when the café was about to close.
On one of those days, Yedam asked if you wanted to go to his place to finish the assignment.
"It's due in two weeks and we still have so much to do... plus we're so busy that we can only meet once a week," he explained, pouting slightly.
You agreed, feeling somewhat nervous and excited at the prospect of going to your crush's house for the first time.
His parents were home but asleep as it was late for them, so the two of you quietly went to his room.
In-between muffled giggles and late-night snacks, the two of you managed to get a lot of work done before you felt as though you'd hit your limit. After yawning and stretching, you told Yedam that it was time you went home.
"Do you live far from here?" he asked you.
You, in fact, did live quite far from his house, but you felt bad telling him this, so you lied and told him you lived close by.
He pouted and looked down.
"I was going to ask if you wanted to just sleep here... but I guess it makes sense for you to go home," he said, helping you pack up your things.
Yedam... wanted you to stay the night? How could you miss such an opportunity! Your crush! Wanted you to stay the night!!
Yedam noticed that you'd stopped moving, holding your pencil case in your hand as you thought about what to say.
"Is everything okay?" he asked you.
"Yeah... I actually... live kind of far," you mumbled, not wanting him to get mad at you for lying.
"You do? Then why did you say you live close by?" he asked, also taking his hands away from your backpack.
"I didn't want you to walk me home or anything," you explained. Yedam smiled at you, shaking his head.
"Don't worry about it now... do you have any clothes to change into?"
"Just my gym clothes... but they're dirty," you told him, shyly.
"Do you want to take something of mine to wear?" he asked you, already standing up to look through his closet without waiting for your answer.
You were going to say no, again, not wanting to bother him, but he had already pulled out some of his comfier clothes for you to wear.
After changing into them and walking back into his room, you avoided Yedam's eyes as he quietly lost his mind over how cute you looked.
"Um, so..." Yedam started, scratching the back of his neck.
"Would you be okay with sleeping in my bed? I'll go sleep in the livingroom-"
"No, no! I'll go sleep there-"
"No, I can't let a guest sleep on the couch!"
Both of you sighed, not being able to win against one another.
"Listen, it's either you sleep in my room and I go to the livingroom, or we both sleep in my bed," he said, pointing to his bed behind you.
You froze, trying to consider your options as your heartbeat grew louder.
"Well... I guess we're both sleeping here then," you said, in a tone that tried to sound confident but was a little shaky.
You plopped yourself face first into the bed to hide from your embarrassment, feeling the bed shift a few seconds later as Yedam joined you.
"Scooch over towards the wall. I'll sleep on this side so you won't fall off the bed at night," he said, pointing to the side of his bed that faced the rest of his room. You smiled at Yedam's kind gesture as you moved over.
He had turned off the light and it was dark now, and both of you lay side-by-side on your backs, staring up at the ceiling.
"Are you... asleep?" he asked you quietly a while later. You shook your head at first, but then realized he couldn't see you. So you said a quiet "no".
You felt Yedam shift as he turned to face you. You carefully turned your head towards him too, wondering what he was up to. It was hard to see in the dark, but he was just admiring your face. You looked away, feeling embarrassed, until you felt him shuffling closer to you.
It was a little nerve-wracking watching his figure tower over you in the dark. Blinking up at him, you parted your lips to ask him what he was doing, but he spoke first.
"Am I allowed to... kiss you?" he asked, quietly looking down at you.
Yedam... wants to ???? Your crush wanted-
You found yourself nodding before your thoughts could entirely be processed, and watched as Yedam lowered himself onto you with a small smile. His heart soared as he watched your reaction -- your eyes were squeezed shut so tightly out of nervousness.
Before his soft lips met yours, he found your hand under the blankets and held it in an attempt to ease you of your nervousness. He didn't know that it only made your stomach feel the effects even more intensely.
Your lips touched for only a moment, but it felt like a whole eternity. When he pulled away, he moved off of you quickly and shuffled over to his side of the bed again.
"I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry," he mumbled, looking away from you. You were confused.
"What's wrong?" you asked him.
"I... I was supposed to tell you I like you first but then now you're right beside me--wait not that I like you... wait I mean I do, but I didn't want to tell you like this--"
Hearing his unsure confession was all the confidence you needed to pull him closer, accidentally tightening his hoodie strings as you pulled him in to carefully press your lips against his again. He completely melted into your hands, then, wrapping an arm around your back and holding you close.
That was probably one of the last good memories you have of him.
After that, Yedam turned into a different person the next morning, avoiding your eyes and missing any trace of a smile on his face as he pushed a plate of breakfast towards you.
"Let's not walk to school together, okay? I'll be leaving first," he told you, leaving you alone in his own house.
You had no clue what was going on and no appetite to eat. After waiting a few minutes, you walked to school after him. You had no idea how to even get to school from his house, so after getting lost and arriving late, you finally managed to make it.
When you tried to approach him in class, he would turn his back on you and ignore you. It made you feel so small that you stopped even trying.
It was really hard for you to show up to school after that, because of how terrible you felt, but you still tried your best. Your friends knew something was wrong and they did their best to help you, but it didn't stop you from thinking about Yedam and why he was acting so strangely.
Until he texted you one day in the middle of class, asking you to meet him in an empty classroom.
You told yourself you shouldn't pay him any attention, especially after he ghosted you like that, but you still followed after him, curious to see what excuse he would give you.
In the classroom, you couldn't see anyone, so you thought Yedam hadn't arrived yet until you heard him call out your name from behind a file cabinet. By the windows.
"Come here, [y/n]," he said, motioning for you to approach him. He was smiling at you again, just like he did on those days when you'd study with him in the café. You told yourself to just turn around and leave, but your feet guided you to him.
You frowned up at him.
"What the heck have you been doing?" you asked him, tears already threatening to leave your eyes.
"[y/n], I-I'm sorry... you know how it is for me, with my popular reputation. Some kids saw us at the café and posted pictures of us, saying that I was going around dating a loser-"
He was holding onto your hands while wearing a pitiful expression, but you coldly pushed him away after hearing him out.
"So you've been acting weird because I'm tainting your reputation? Yedam, we never even dated! You gave me some... half-assed confession and... kissed me in the middle of the night and then ghosted me," you told him, sternly.
"I know, I'm sorry... It's so pathetic but I really do like you... I'm just really bad at this, I know, but I'm telling you now I like you-"
"In an empty classroom. Behind a file cabinet."
"Please, [y/n]. Date me for real... I promise I won't let you down."
You and your kind, innocent heart believed his promise. You believed him because his eyes were sparkling and he was holding onto you so tightly.
Yedam told you that you had to date him in secret, and that was just one of many red flags. He explained that if his friends found out, he would be teased and you would be hurt by their words, too. Nonetheless, you agreed. At school, you never spoke to him. All you got were stolen glances, Yedam winking at you every time you turned around in your seat. Somehow, that was enough to make your heart flutter.
You could only see each other in each other's homes, since even the risk of being caught out on a date was too much for Yedam to handle. The two of you would intertwine hands while watching a movie. You'd rest your head on Yedam's shoulder, or sometimes he would rest his head in your lap and you would gently stroke his hair, watching as his eyes squeezed shut tightly while he indulged in the feeling of your love.
Sometimes the two of you would listen to music together, quietly sharing earphones while staring out the window.
Sometimes you would just talk for hours into the night.
Yedam's smile would never leave his face when he was with you.
Except for when he was at school.
And you could handle it. At least you thought you could, until the final straw.
For Yedam's birthday, a few of his friends had gathered in his home, celebrating. You were also invited, of course, after you begged Yedam to let you come. He had told his friends that he invited you as a gesture of thanks for working on the assignment with him... it broke your heart to hear this lie, but you shrugged it off, again.
Everyone was feeling excited as they all started a game of spin-the-bottle. You felt incredibly out of place and already angry, even more so upon seeing a girl getting all handsy with Yedam, stroking his thigh with her hand and playing with his hair. She was constantly glued to him, but you shrugged it off, again.
After the bottle's mouth faced Yedam, the girl beside him dared him to kiss someone. How childish, you thought to yourself. You watched as Yedam locked eyes with you and started to stand up, making his way towards you with a small smile, but the girl beside him stopped him.
"Where are you going, damie? Isn't it me who you should kiss?"
Yedam looked back at her and then at you.
"I-"
"C'mon, it's your birthday!" she said, dragging him back down.
That literally is not an excuse and makes no sense, you scoffed to yourself, rolling your eyes.
The next few moments were a blur, but Yedam ended up kissing her and you felt like a piece of paper being torn in two. We can't even look at each other in public, you thought to yourself. You fought back tears and got up to leave. No one seemed to mind or care about where you were going, since none of these people were your friends anyway. Even Yedam was preoccupied, his lips on the mouth of this other girl.
You couldn't just shrug things off anymore. This was it. Now, it was your turn to ghost Yedam.
You hadn't told him, but your family were planning to move to another city soon. You told them to plan the move for earlier so you could leave that dreaded place and leave Yedam. Ignoring all his calls and texts, you transferred out the next week, and that was that.
-
I'm gonna break down these walls, I built around myself. I wanna fall so in love, with you, and no one else, Could ever mean half as much, to me as you do now. Together we'll move on, just don't turn around, Let the walls break down.
You can't focus in lecture as everything that happened with Yedam flashes before your eyes. Just as you're starting to live a normal life without him, he has to show up and allow of the trauma to resurface.
As soon as your class ends, you quickly pack your bags. Your friend does the same, understanding exactly what is going on. But it seems like Yedam and his feet move a little faster.
Just as you're about to leave your row, you look up to find Yedam standing at the end of it, a small smile on his face.
You sigh and turn around, telling your friend to do the same so you can leave through the other side. But Yedam just follows behind you quietly. He doesn't say a word and just follows you as you and your friend as you leave the lecture hall to go to your next class.
Suddenly, you stop. Your friend and Yedam stop, too.
You turn around, your fist clenched into a tight ball.
"Yedam, can you please stop following me? Do you not have classes of your own or things to do? Please leave me alone," you told him, turning your back on him again and walking forward.
Your friend didn't follow you, though, but looked back and forth between you and Yedam. So lost in your thoughts, you walk to class on your own, not noticing that your friend isn't following you.
-
Yedam's pov
After they say those words and leave, I feel my heart breaking in two. Of course I know how much I've hurt [y/n], but their words make me realize that I'll never be able to completely understand. I almost start crying right there and then...
"Yedam, right?" their friend asks me. I look at them and nod, confused.
"Listen, [y/n] hates your guts. They're not going to talk to you and hear you out, so I'll do it instead. I know [y/n] might regret it if they don't hear you out, even if they don't want to."
I smile at [y/n]'s friend. That sounds exactly like [y/n]...
"You've probably heard a lot of awful things about me, and it's all true. But... [y/n] probably didn't tell you about those nights we spent in each other's rooms... the times that we did get to spend with each other alone.... sorry, what I'm trying to say is that I've always loved [y/n]. Not even 'like', but I've always loved them. And I don't think I'll be able to stop... I know I was such a terrible boyfriend back then. I don't think I can say I even was much of a boyfriend... but I've changed. I can promise that I've changed. I know it must be so arrogant of me to ask if they'll give me another chance but..."
I trail off, my brain shutting down as I struggle to find anymore words to express myself. [y/n]'s friend nods after I trail off.
"I see... well, I've heard about your promises. I heard they couldn't be trusted but if you've changed, then maybe that has changed, too. [y/n] has a really kind heart, but I won't let them date a jerk ever again. So unless we both know for sure that you're different now, we are not letting you date them."
With that, [y/n]'s friend walks away and leaves me there.
-
[y/n]'s pov
In class, you feel completely empty, unsure of how to feel. You only notice that your friend had not been beside you this entire time when they take a seat in the spot beside you, apologizing that they're late.
"Where were you?" you ask them, looking up as they sit down.
"I was talking to Yedam," your friend tells you, never one to lie.
Your face fills with disgust at the mention of his name.
"Why would you do that?" you whisper loudly, causing some heads in the lecture hall to turn your way. You mumble an apology before returning to your friend.
"I wanted to hear him out," they say, casually opening up their notes.
"What did he say?"
"So you are interested, huh?" they ask you, teasing.
"No, I'm not!"
"I know, calm down! He just said something along the lines of how he's always loved you and does now, too, and that he's changed--"
"That is the most garbage thing I've ever heard," you say, interrupting your friend with a scoff. They smile, shaking their head at you.
-
When you return to your dorm after all your classes, you find a small gift bag hanging on the door knob to your room. Curious, you pick it up and notice it has your name written on the side.
You could recognize that handwriting from a mile away.
As if it's the side of a hot pan, you drop it, watching its contents spill to the ground. A pack of your favourite snack falls out, along with a neatly handwritten note, a CD player and earphones.
I guess it wouldn't hurt to look, you tell yourself.
Picking everything up and walking into your room, you sit on your bed and read the note over.
[y/n]!! ah, it doesn't make sense for me to be cute or excited in this note, does it? >.< please forgive me.... i'm a little nervous... here is that snack that you've always loved... do you still love it now, too? and here is something that i wrote for you~it's on the CD. just press play and i'll let the song do the talking... i wrote this after you disappeared.
- yedam
This song better be god tier if he's coming to leave it at my door, you think to yourself.
As the song fills your ears, it seems to fill your empty heart too. You can tell it's full of Yedam's sincere feelings and thoughts... or he's just doing a good job of acting while singing. You can't seem to tell, but you still tear up a little.
You hear the door to your room swing open, as your friend, who also happens to be your roommate, barges in.
"What are you up to?" they ask, placing some things on their desk. They turn around immediately when they hear you sniffling.
"ARE YOU CRYING?" they shout, sitting beside you and wrapping their arms around you.
"This... song... Yedam..." you croak, just handing them the earphones.
When they listen to it, they also go quiet.
"It sounds really sincere..." your friend tells you, quietly.
"I'm not the only one who feels that way?" you ask your friend, looking at them.
"You know him better than I do, so you're probably right," they tell you, standing up.
"Why did this boy have to show up and make a mess of my life again," you groan, hiding your face in your hands.
"Well, I have just the solution! I know you're probably going to think about him and not get any work done anyway, so should we just go to a party?!" your friend tells you, jumping up and down.
"A party?" you wrinkle your nose in disgust.
"It'll help you stop thinking about him! Please, we never went to any parties last year!! Let's go, just this once!" they beg.
After thinking it over, you agree. What's the worst that could happen?
-
Wearing one of your favourite fits and feeling good, you walk alongside your friend, who already has a groove in their step as the two of you make your way to the house where the party is set to be held. It isn't that hard to find, since you're just following the bright lights and loud music in the distance. It's a wonder the people in that house aren't being arrested for causing such a ruckus...
Finally there, you step inside and try not to bump into any weird people. The music is so loud its deafening, and you shrivel up at the sound of it. Your friend wraps their arm around you, pulling you in close and guiding you to the snack/drink area so you can take what you need and go to a quieter place.
Your friend did beg you to come today, so they won't force you to dance or do any things you don't want to do...
Now equipped with everything you need, you make your way to the basement, where it's a lot quieter despite being so busy.
"How's this for a change?" your friend asks you, grooving along to the distant sound of the music from upstairs.
"It seems like you want to dance," you tell your friend.
They shake their head.
"I'll stay with you toniiiiiight!" they cheer, hugging you tightly. You laugh.
"It's fine, just go up! The crowd doesn't seem too scary or weird down here," you tell them as you watch two people play mario kart in front of a TV.
After asking you 1000 times if it's really okay, they leave you there with a drink in your hand. You continue watching the two people playing mario kart, secretly rooting for the boy in orange because his fit looks really nice, even if you're only looking from the back.
He ends up losing and you let out a "noooo!" loud enough for the two to hear. When they turn around, you discover that the boy in orange had been Yedam all along!
I take back rooting for him... he deserved to lose!
Widening your eyes at the sight of him, you quickly turn away and try to navigate your way towards another room. To your surprise, as soon as you walk in, Yedam is in there, holding the door open at the other end and panting.
"[y/n]," he calls out softly, smiling slightly. You can tell he's testing the waters and wondering how to react.
You try to walk out of the room, but the door behind you has been shut by some drunken idiot! He's pressed up against the frame and no matter how much you push, the door just won't open.
"[y/n], if you want to leave, it's okay. I don't want to bother you," Yedam tells you, stepping aside from the other door and motioning for you to walk through.
You sigh.
"No, it's fine. I guess we're here for a reason now, or something," you mumble, sliding down the wall until you're in a comfortable sitting position.
Yedam smiles, closing the door behind him.
"Still caught up in all that destiny stuff?" he asks you, joining you in sitting on the ground but also keeping his distance.
You scoff in response. How does this kid remember everything about me?
"So... what are you doing in my house?' he asks you.
"Your.... house?"
"Yeah, this is my house. You didn't know?" he asks you, looking bewildered.
You think about your friend. They must have brought you here while knowing it was Yedam's house...
"Um... nevermind that. How... have you been?" Yedam asks you, wringing his hands.
"Me? I've been doing great until now. How about you?" you spit out your words sarcastically, but Yedam doesn't seem to mind.
"I've been... well... I'm not sure. It would be cheesy for me to say I've been feeling lost without you, but that's kind of how it is," he tells you, chuckling nervously.
"Yeah, super cheesy. It also doesn't make sense, Yedam," you tell him, avoiding his eyes.
"I know it doesn't, but to me it does. I know our relationship was a mess, but those times that we spent together were... something else. Probably some of the best times of my life, honestly," he tells you.
"And why... are you telling me this?" you ask him, curious to see how he'll respond.
"Because I know I'm in the wrong and there's no excuse for my past childishness, but... I've missed you. And I still do. I know I was really caught up in my reputation back then and I didn't open myself up to you properly, but I want to do that now."
He runs his fingers through his hair, and something inside you turns. You didn't realize just how much you loved it when Yedam did that until now... he looks so pretty--
No. What are you thinking?!
"I haven't missed you though, Yedam," you say.
He smiles sadly.
"I know. And there's no reason for you to. But I'm just... asking for a second chance in case you think there's anything left."
You gulp and look up at the ceiling. You hadn't even considered the possibility of dating Yedam again, but talking with him now is different. He's less cautious and seems to be a lot more comfortable with you.
Someone knocks on the door behind Yedam and Yedam tells them to come in.
"Oh, am I interrupting?" the boy asks, slowly backing away.
"It's fine, I'm just talking to [y/n]," Yedam says with a smile, gesturing towards you. You greet the boy and his eyes light up.
"[y/n]?! The one you always tell me about? Gosh... it's so nice to meet you!" the boy says, shaking your hand and sitting down in front of you.
"You put up with a lot of Yedam's antics, I've heard," he says, laughing. Yedam laughs along, but you're still in shock.
Yedam had never told anyone about you... but now this random boy knows everything?
"It was more than antics. I was... really bad to [y/n]. I'm surprised they haven't left yet," Yedam admits, leaning back.
"I transferred to your old high school after you transferred out, and this boy was always sad. He didn't talk to anyone but me, only because the teacher asked him to show me around. He told me everything about you and eventually told the rest of his friends, too. You were his biggest and only heartbreak... I swear everyone at our school knows about you," the boy explains.
"What did you tell them?" you ask Yedam.
"He told us how he had been dating you in secret because he was afraid to ruin his popularity, but that he regrets it a lot. A lot of his friends left him after finding out you dated Yedam," the boy explains. Yedam nods along.
You're in shock. The boy who was so secretive and insecure exposed himself as a heartbreaker?
"Anyways, I'm sorry to be interrupting. I'll leave now!" the boy says, standing up and closing the door behind him.
"You... told everyone?" you ask Yedam. He nods.
"I feel like it was the only thing I could do for you. You deserved to be known as the one who held my heart," he says, holding his chest and laughing at his own cheesy words.
You find yourself laughing along and loosening up.
A moment of silence stretches between the two of you, and Yedam breaks it by standing up.
"Do you wanna play mario kart with me? You seemed to be having fun watching," Yedam asks you quietly.
You nod, also standing up.
The two of you play for about an hour, screaming and yelling at the TV just like you used to in your bedroom when you'd play games together.
"I won!" you declare in glee, turning to Yedam to do your signature high five with him. His hands meet yours, and you only realize what you're doing only after its already happened. You awkwardly move your hands away, facing the screen again.
"I'm sorry..." you mumble.
"No, I'm sorry! It's really okay, [y/n]... if you feel uncomfortable around me, you don't have to--"
"Your song touched me a lot, Yedam. And now I feel like... I want to try again. Just like this game," you say, pointing to the screen that has try again written in the corner.
"Are you sure?" he asks you, slowly.
You nod, deciding you've made up your mind. You've seen a lot of green flags already -- enough to decide that it's okay to move forward.
Yedam smiles and looks down at his lap. Then his head lifts up quickly, his eyes lighting up.
"I can take you to that café you always wanted to go! They have one in this city... and there's a museum next to it too! Do you want to go there? I.."
As he continues talking, you realize that all of the things he's saying he wants to do were things that you never did with Yedam, even after one year of dating him. It was always stay-at-home dates and ignore-each-other-when-we're-at-school. Somehow, you feel excited, wondering what things will be like.
"[y/n]! I've been looking everywhere for--oh, Yedam? Hi!" your friend greets you both.
"Did you have fun dancing?" you ask them. They nod, pointing to Yedam with their eyes.
You get up and whisper into your friend's ear.
"We have a lot to talk about, but I think..."
Your friend doesn't even wait for you to finish before they say, "well, I have to leave early now. Yedam, can you walk [y/n] home? Great, thanks!"
With that, they disappear and you shake your head at your friend's strange behaviour.
Yedam is all smiley while still sitting on the ground.
"Do I get to walk you home now?" he asks you, standing up.
"I wonder what would've happened if you walked me home that day, too..." you mumble, thinking about the day you slept over at Yedam's in the same bed as him.
"What, do you want to sleep over today, too?" he asks you.
You shake your head.
"I don't want things to turn out like that again."
"You mean, you don't want me to kiss you like I did then?" Yedam teases you, sending you a wink.
"You--shut up!" you yell, chasing after him with a pillow.
This boy literally broke my heart, you think to yourself. He is testing his limits...
After you both calm down, Yedam walks you home. It's a little quiet at first, until Yedam speaks.
"Can... I hold your hand?" he asks you.
"This soon?" you say, still grabbing his hand anyway. He looks down at your hand in his and smiles.
"Yeah... you don't know how long I've been wanting to do this for," he admits, swinging your arm up and down as you walk.
You shake your head at him.
"Let's run!" Yedam declares, racing forward with your hand in his. You trail behind him, the sound of laughter escaping your lips and ringing in Yedam's ears. It leaves a bright blush on his face as he thinks to himself about how much he's missed your laughter.
The two of you slow down, panting.
"I'm so tired," Yedam wheezes, laughing at how weird he sounds.
"Do you want me to kiss it better?" you tease him. He raises his eyebrows at the comment. Maybe it's the adrenaline from all the running or the feeling of the night air, but a courage surges through you as you snake your hand around the back of his head and pull him towards you, pressing his warm lips to yours.
You pull away shortly after, feeling breathless again. A blush dusts Yedam's cheeks as he stares at you with wide eyes.
Your own stomach is full of butterflies, but you ignore it and walk forward.
"Are you not coming?" you yell to the boy behind you. He laughs and chases after you.
[a/n]: i just want to say that i do not condone getting back together with a toxic ex so soon... i was just really excited while writing and sped up the plot >.< but don't ever get back with someone who has hurt you unless you are 100% sure! please take care of yourself!!
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misslilli · 2 years
Text
Happy New Year guys 🥳
Felix Felicis
MSR. AU. E. | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3
Chapter 67 - Be My Valentine
The week that follows our adventures at the Beach House drags by so slowly and to be honest, I'm torn if this is a good thing or not.
On the one hand, at the end of it twinkles the promise of a great first Valentine's Day date.
I have absolutely no idea what Mulder's got planned, he's secretive about it and changes the subject smoothly whenever I ask too many prying questions. Not even Felix, who's bursting at the seams with the secret he's keeping, has let anything slip.
On the other hand, the end of the week also marks the start of spring break. My kids are wearing my patience thin with their barely contained excitement mixed into the exhaustion from working hard, report cards need to be written up, parting gifts need to be bought and wrapped and the classroom mess needs to be tidied.
What puts quite the damper on my vacation spirits is the fact that the boys will be gone for a whole week, visiting Sam in LA.
The girls have scoffed and rolled their eyes at me more than once, until Holly finally has had enough and suggested I just fold myself into a tiny ball for them to stuff in their hand-luggage so she doesn't have to listen to my whining on her spring break.
"You'll see them again on your birthday, D, maybe a little time apart is not such a bad thing, you know?," Alex has offered her perspective with a pat on my arm and Sarah has added her two-cents with a wink to "give him a good send-off he won't be able to keep off his mind until they get back."
The outfit we've picked up at La Perla will certainly do its part in that, I think with a tiny tingle of anticipation.
If and when I've managed to get through Valentine's at school without losing my mind, that is. Oh the drama… some kids are giddily reading their cards, showing them off to their friends in fits of giggles, others are glumly staring at theirs because it's not from the person they had hoped for but I did make sure they each get one. Nothing worse than the disappointment of not receiving one at all.
A few cards have found their way to my desk too, anonymous of course, can't betray their coolness with a signed card to their teacher. More or less, they're quite similar, only one of them stands out, the writing a little wobblier than the others, more spelling mistakes on it and I smile at it a little more affectionately.
I display them all proudly on the wall behind my desk, but that special one gets a special spot and the anonymous sender gets an extra tight hug as a thank-you at recess.
It takes a few hours of prep-time for us to get ready in my crowded bathroom, a closely avoided burn mark from the curling iron in Sarah's hand and additional helping hands to fasten clasps and zip up dresses in the back.
Not one of us has any idea where our date will take us and while we're getting ready, we're spit-balling the most outlandish ideas where we'll end up tonight. Everyone except Alex, who has been boycotting Valentine's Day on principle for as long as we can remember.
"I bet Tom's reserved a table at some restaurant, like every year - not to be ungrateful or anything but I wish he'd plan something else for a change, something more exciting than dinner…," Sarah sighs her dismay that her boyfriend doesn't have a romantic bone in his body into her powder puff.
"Well maybe you should plan Valentine's Day for a change, if all you do is complain about his choices, missy, we gave you plenty of good location ideas for next year!"
"A spaceship is not a good location idea, Holly…" I hide my grin into my own powder puff, someone I know would think this to be the utmost perfect location for a date.
Alex answers the doorbell that startles us out of our discussion while we put on the last finishing touches and make our way downstairs. Three gentlemen in their finest suits await us downstairs, though only the one in the middle and his awestruck clean-shaved face makes my heart flutter and beat a little bit faster.
"Miss, I was blinded by your beauty, I'm going to need your name and phone number for insurance purposes!," he grins into our soft kiss hello.
"You're so handsome, I completely forgot my pickup line. Nice touch." I smile up him dreamily, touching a finger to the daisy tucked in next to his pocket square.
"You're disgusting, both of you… Let's go before they can think up more cheesy lines." Holly teases from her boyfriend Rick's side with a tug on his hand.
"You know, we could've walked here from the house, Mulder…," I remark on our stroll along the harbor, decorated with glowing hearts in the trees that line the walkway that add a romantic feel to the Christmas lights twinkling between them.
"No? It's cold and you're in heels that are far too nice to ruin on the long walk down the dirt road!"
"So it's only a short walk huh… we're going to Mamma Mia's!"
"No."
"The Cabby Shack?"
"Nope."
"Oh please, I'm dying with curiosity over here! Where are we going?" The. impatient tug on his hand only puts that secretive smile on his face again and he only lifts his shoulder in response… What it he up to?
I'm almost a hundred percent sure we're headed to the overly fancy restaurant right next to the Cabby Shack but I'm dead wrong again.
Instead, we turn to walk down the dock where we shared our first kiss, only now it's not as deserted and at the end, a two-story boat bobs up and down, festively adorned with more lights and a warm glow coming from the windows on the bottom deck.
Squinting, I read the sign draped across the starboard side.
"Star-Gazing Cruise… Stargazing cruise? We're going on that??" Glancing up, mouth caught between gape and smile, I almost squeal out my delight at Mulder's slow nod.
"Mh-hm. But wait, there's one more surprise at the end of the dock." I don't think my heart can take more surprises tonight.
"You bunch of sneaky bastards!" Holly gives a smugly grinning Rick a swift punch to the arm as we join them at the end of the dock.
"You really had us, I can't believe you planned a triple date for us! Star-Gazing, no less. Kudos to whoever came up with that idea!"
"Thanks Shorty, we thought we'd shake things up a bit tonight, to save Tom from complaints about his lack of imagination." Sarah only laughs airily at the jab, thanking Rick profusely for saving her the effort.
Tom's shoulder sag a few inches before he gives a half-shrug and forces a cheerful smile onto his face.
"Let's get inside, guys, I'm freezing and hungry!"
It's fairly easy to sit on my moral high horse right now, in my contempt for Sarah's laugh, fully convinced my partner is the best thing since they invented sliced bread, has absolutely no flaws and is practically perfect in every way.
Scarily perfect. With his steadying hand on my back, taking off my coat to check it at the door, pulling out my chair at our table and warming my cold hands between his own under the table.
"How in the world did you guys come up with this? Thanks babe!," Sarah glances around at the guys, accepting the champagne flute Tom's filled up with a small smile.
"Well… I got the not-so-subtle hints that you'd like to do something special on Valentine's so I asked around a few of my construction site's for ideas - I own a construction company," he adds as an explanation for Mulder's benefit, placing a glass in my hand. "but they were just as clueless as I was. On one of our Friday poker nights, the topic came up and Rick here suggested we could go somewhere together, to shake things up a little."
"And so you'd only have to come up with one idea instead of two." At Holly's interception, Tom lifts his shoulders again, grinning a little guiltily that she hit the nail on the head.
"Yeah, pretty much. We were still hopelessly lost though, so Simon brought his Alex in to help us out. It was also her who reminded us that there's a new addition to our group and that he might have some great ideas up his sleeve. We were pretty impressed by the Winter Carnival idea, I gotta say!" He hands the final glass to Mulder, who reluctantly lets go of one of my hands to accept it.
"Thanks, although, full disclosure, that's the only one I didn't plan, that was Scully's idea." The memories of that afternoon lights up both of our faces and I give our interlaced hands a little squeeze.
Our conversation is interrupted briefly by the waiter taking our drink order and distributing this night's special menu. It's a mouth-watering four course dinner, started off with little appetizer plates for each couple to share, perfectly fit to eat one-handed. Or feed each other half when we've picked a particularly good one.
"So all this was your idea, then?" Mulder shakes his head no at my question, distracting me from the conversation momentarily with a quick swipe of his tongue across that bottom lip of his. Oh Lord, is it just me or did someone turn up the heat in here?
"I wish I could take the credit for this one. I had a little helper with a vast amount of information stored in his mind from your talks at recess." The mention of Felix reminds me to stop staring at those damn lips my eyes are glued to and force my mind to focus on putting thoughts into words and words into sentences. My dry mouth fails me miserably.
"You okay over there, Shorty? You look a little… distracted…," Tom teases me from across the table, sending an embarrassed flush up my neck. Shit, for how long was I staring?
"Uh-huh…Uhm…Our talk about constellations and star-gazing with my dad as a kid. I can't believe he remembers that, that was months ago!"
"Can't remember where he put his homework or his second sock but that he remembers…," Mulder's deadpan earns him a chuckle around the table. The water glass he pushes towards me with a knowing grin and a wink earns me a blush a shade darker.
We raise our champagne flutes in a toast to great ideas, clinking them together in the middle. I only take a small sip, champagne goes right to my head on an empty stomach and my mind is already plenty fuzzy around the edges from the absent-minded thumbstrokes of Mulder's hand on my thigh. How am I supposed to sit through three more courses and star-gazing without losing my mind?
From the appearance of the entrees to the end of the main course and during the easily flowing dinner conversations, the hand leaves its resting spot only for a total of five times - yes, I counted - until the table is cleared and the waiter steps up to inquire if we’d like to order dessert. I can barely manage to bite back my vocal reaction to Mulder's quiet whisper of what he'd like to have for dessert so very close to my ear, his warm breath sends shivers down my spine.
Leaned back after dessert, Tom's entertaining us with a story about one of his new construction workers, a young guy who always misplaces his tools, has no idea how to handle a hammer or a wrench, can't drill a hole to save his life and is in general a real liability to have on a construction site, but he does make for a funny story.
During his story, Mulder's leaning over every now and then, privately adding his own gleefully delivered dirty twist to 'handling hammers' and 'drilling holes'. Tears in my eyes and pressing my lips together tightly, I'm shaking from the effort to keep my laughter in, it's getting real difficult with each new comment.
"…and I got so frustrated with him fumbling around with a fucking screwdriver, I said Jesus Christ, if you can't get it in, put some grease on it and just screw it, it's not that hard!"
I try to confine my laugh into a snort but I absolutely lose it at this point, bursting into an uncontrollable giggle fit, waving my hands to get Tom to stop. He's so oblivious and confused as to why I'm crying laughing, hiding my blushed face into my hands. "What?? Screwing is not that hard!"
That's all it takes for Mulder to lose his composure as well and he barks out a laugh that only adds to my own amusement and we end up giggling like little children, leaned together for support until we're holding our sides, gasping for breath.
"For crying out loud, you two are so immature," Sarah sighs into her glass and rolls her eyes at us, her annoyance betrayed by the grin tugging on her lips.
I'm trying to catch my breath between residues of laughter, wiping my eyes. "I'm sorry… oh God… that was a good story, Tom, really." Even after the giggles subsided, I can't even look at Mulder, if I do, I'm sure I'll lose it again.
"Hey Richard, you wanna put that down for just one second to participate in the conversation?" The edge in Holly's voice and the use of his first and full name gets Rick to snap his head up from his phone and effectively puts an end to my amusement.
He places the phone face down back onto the table and throws Holly a guilty look.
"Sorry, doll, work stuff…"
She opens her mouth to fire back a nasty comment but thankfully, she's interrupted by the maitre d' clapping his hands for attention, announcing it's time to head onto the upper deck for the star-gazing part of the evening. I breathe a sigh of relief.
Bundled up in our coats, the six of us separate into different sections of the deck for some alone time, Sarah and Tom choose the front to listen to the astronomer pointing out constellations, Mulder and I huddle underneath a blanket in the back to people-watch in peace. Holly and Rick are at the starboard railing, still arguing with hushed voices and flailing hands.
Head tilted back, I search the night sky for a shooting star and name a few constellations I can make out. It's suspiciously quiet by my side and when I glance over, Mulder's not participating in the star-gazing at all. Instead, he's watching Rick and Holly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. I can practically see the profiler wheels turning in his sideways-leaned head.
"Penny for your thoughts?" My gentle nudge into his side pulls his attention away from the fight, clearing his mind with a little shake of his head.
"I'm sorry, got lost in my thoughts…"
"Care to share?" I'm curious and also a little worried he think this'll be us in a few years, ruining a perfect evening with an argument instead of enjoying the moment.
"I'm not sure if you'll like what I have to say… and I don't want to overstep…"
"You think this will be us in about two years?" He only snorts in response, tugging me closer with his arm draped across my shoulders.
"Don't be ridiculous, no." Oh the sweet naïveté of the first few months of a new relationship. Closely snuggled together in our bubble, we're apparently both still fully convinced that we'll solve all of our arguments calmly and end up laughing in the end or maybe we'll never fight at all - we're such a perfect match and with all of our rules and good intentions for open communication and honesty, what could go wrong?
"Mhkay good. So pray tell, what's on your mind?"
"Two years, you said? I really hope I'm wrong, but I don't think Rick will be around that long…" Surprised at his words, I pull back a little to glance up at him, eyebrow raised.
"What? Why?"
"Because they speak different love languages. Judging only from tonight, hers is possibly quality time and his is receiving messages from other women to answer during dinner with his girlfriend." My face must register my shock and confusion.
"Come on, work stuff? On Valentine's Day? Phone face down on the table? Phone at the table at all? Again, I really hope I'm wrong but either he's just a dick or he's texting with other women. Maybe both."
To fight the sinking feeling in my stomach and to save our own evening from drifting off into Depression Land, I desperately need to change the subject and let future me worry about whether he's right in his assessment or not. Subty, I push my own phone a little deeper into my coat pocket.
"I hope it's neither and you're dead wrong about this… Hey, is it time to exchange gifts yet?"
I'm the absolute worst at keeping gifts to myself, the envelope in my purse has been screaming for attention the whole evening and now that we're finally alone, I think exchanging gifts are the perfect way to refocus our attention to what's really important. If it weren't for the wide-eyed, slow-blinking expression on Mulder's face.
"Oh no, I was supposed to bring a gift? I'm sorry, I thought this evening… was the gift…" I wave my hand at him with a quick shake of my head. Since it brings me a lot more joy to give gifts rather than receive them, I whip out my envelope and present it to him with a flourish and an elated grin on my face.
"Here. I wasn't sure if it was something you'd enjoy doing so I employed the services of a little someone who does know and he signed off on it. Open it!" Envelope in hand, Mulder throws me a dubious look.
"I really hope for him Felix didn't rope you into giving me something only he'll enjoy." Giggling at the thought - that actually does sound like something Felix would do - I shake my head again, nudging him to finally open the stupid envelope.
"If this is tickets to the Trolley Museum or something, I swear to God…" He's trying my patience on purpose and I watch him pull out the contents of the envelope with an open-mouthed expectant grin. Completely taken by surprise, he glances from the tickets in his hand to me and back again several times.
"Are you insane??"
"Yes.," I nod gravely. "Although I'm surprised it took next year's Super Bowl tickets for you to realize that…" Far too slowly for my liking, he fans out the tickets in his hand, staring down at them for a while to keep his emotions in check. Oh stop it, if you cry, I cry.
"I… That's… There's… three tickets here."
"You think I want to get murdered in my sleep?"
My attempt to lighten the mood is met by a hug so tight, it momentarily takes my breath away and a watery laugh that warms my heart and has my eyes brimming with tears too. Crap, I swore to myself I wouldn't cry tonight!
"It's too much, Scully, I can't accept that… these tickets must've cost a fortune!"
"Oh I know a guy, who knows a guy…"
————
[ FM ]
Pulled back from our hug, we wipe our eyes chuckling at ourselves and share a salty kiss I try to put all my thankfulness for her very existence into.
I'm absolutely awestruck by her gift, not only by the fact that she picked something I've been thinking about doing for a long time and what must've cost a small fortune, guy or no guy.
The biggest gift for me and the one that transforms me into a blubbering, emotional mess is that she has included Felix. Simple as that, no questions asked, no "Oh what can we do to get rid of that kid?".
Integrating my child so effortlessly might as well be my secondary love language.
Caught up in my emotional turmoil, I almost forget that I was only joking about not getting her a gift, although it pales in comparison. It's also an envelope to shyly present to her surprised face, but it contains a weekend getaway for only the two of us, to spend a few days away from the day-to-day grind, wrapped in fluffy robes the entire day and with someone else to make us breakfast in the morning.
"Oh my… Thank you, I love it! We'll go at the end of the school year, it'll balance out the funk of saying goodbye to my kids after four years together!"
Gifts exchanged, we return to what we're actually here to do, searching the night skies for stars and she quietly admits she's never seen a shooting star before. After a while of silently gazing upwards, a streak lights up the darkness and we each make a secret wish on the shooting star that makes its way across the sky.
I can hardly wait to get her home and upstairs, to really show my appreciation for her incredibleness and to finally get a glimpse of what she's been hinting at, another surprise, just for me. Oh please let it be La Perla.
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in-superbloom · 3 years
Text
did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? (a.i.)
right where you left me: prologue
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pairing: ashton irwin x olivia jones (oc)
warnings: uhh a kinda grieving theme i guess? but no deaths. it has a sad tone overall, but nothing major (in this chapter hehe). foul language because i can't help myself. the tiniest mention of alcohol, but as a memory. think i should probably warn you that this contains a very sad ash. also not much dialogues. this is mainly for explanation and introduction, but very important for the story. if you find anything else that might be triggering, please let me know so i can add it here !!
author's note: oof okay. so. this is the prologue of a series very very dear to my heart that i've been working on for what it feels like my whole life but really it's been just a few months. but i'm in love with the story (which rarely happens with my own writing) so i hope you can enjoy it too !! this is also my very first time posting a fic since 2013 so pls keep that in mind <3 no i am not shaking as type this ofc not also: although i have the full story ready in my head, this is the only chapter that's written. i wanted to wait until i had at least a few ready before posting this but i'm too anxious for that lmao just saying this bc it will take a good while until i have any more chapters, so <3 (p.s.: i went over this thing a million times since may so if you find any errors pls look away, i'm not fixing this thing anymore. thanks <3)
another note: anna from the future here to say that i completely forgot about the playlist i made for the story lmao here it is in case you're interested k thanks bye <3
credits: title is from taylor swift's song right where you left me. model in the picture: paola locatelli. banner by me.
i also wanted to take a minute to thank some really nice friends that i've made here over these past few months & that i'm extremely grateful for @wastelandcth @suchalonelysunflower @littledrummerangie i cannot thank you babes enough for inspiring me the way that you do & for letting me yell about this to you && for encouraging me so much 🥺 i'll never be able to explain just how much this means to me, so i'll have to settle for saying thank you at any change that i can get <3 i love you all 💜 also gem my baby, thank you for the inspo with the banner 💚
@bluesdelis look babe i did it 😌 you know how grateful i am for you & for you letting me have a breakdown every week about my writing for the past 8 years so let's not dive into that or else i will write something bigger than this prologue jsjsjdjd love you 🖤
i hope you all have a good reading and a nice day ♡
let me know what are your thoughts about the fic ! ♡
word count: 4.1k
☆☆☆
Cold. That was the first thing that Olivia’s brain processed.
Still with her eyes closed, she buried herself more into the duvet, while her arm blindly reached for the furnace in human form that she calls boyfriend. However, as soon as her arm was only met with cold sheets, her eyes shot open.
Blinking the sleep away, she sat up on the bed, searching for the infamous red clock resting on Ashton’s bedside table that was supposed to look like a vintage alarm clock. Olivia had ordered it online at an auction website a couple of years back, as a gift for his 23rd birthday, since it was something he had mentioned multiple times prior that he was looking for, but still hadn't found. But when it finally came in (two weeks after the due date), it looked nothing like the picture she saw on the website. Feeling beyond frustrated, she wanted to send it back immediately and ask for a refund and maybe leave a not so polite review on the seller's page. But Ashton stopped her right away, laughing like the situation was absolutely hilarious to him, while saying, 'I like it, it’s quirky'. So, the clock stayed and found a home right next to him in their room.
Some days, however, she would wake up at some ungodly hour because of the blaring noise of the only ringtone the clock had. But whatever annoyance she could feel towards the object, it always vanished as soon as she felt Ashton's lips gently touching her face in a good morning kiss before he would get up to start his day, leaving her to catch some more hours of well deserved sleep.
As the furthest from a morning person as a touring musician could possibly be, Olivia had always feared that living under the same roof as Ashton would turn her into an early bird like him, but she's thankful that it never happened (not that he needs to know about that).
When she sees the red clock, she smiles at the sudden but welcome memories of them flooding her foggy brain, but frowns slightly when she realizes it reads 12:13 pm. Ashton rarely lets her sleep past 10 am.
Gathering all her strength and will, she rises up from the bed, smoothly picking up a grey wool sweatshirt from the chair (way too baggy on her slim body, but it smells like him), pulling it over her head and relishing on the soft material warming up her body. Making her way to the door and calmly going down the stairs, she can’t help but stop for a minute to admire the picture frames on their walls, one in particular catches her attention – probably one of the most prized pictures and memories they had. It felt older than it actually is, but it was around 4 years ago, she's sure – a little while after the two of them met. The picture was of their group of friends that still remains the same: Ashton and his best friend, Luke; Olivia, her best friend, Calum and their old hometown friend, turned into Calum’s new friend at college, turned into everyone’s friend, Michael; and her then newly band members, Suki, Eli and Ravi. Together, their group was the life of the party through all their college years, and it showed by the big smiles and drinks in hands they all had in the picture. It was a very special night, the first time Olivia’s little band played for the public – for a small audience sure, but it was a wonderful night nonetheless. What a long road it had been since that night.
Her nostalgic thoughts were interrupted by a shiver that went through her whole body, and it made her realize how oddly cold the whole house was, not only their bedroom. Which, granted, it was November in New York and the weather was just getting colder, but that’s exactly why Ashton always made sure to keep the house warm enough. As much as she loved the chilly season, the warm weather always reminded him of his hometown, and who was she to deny him that?
The smell of fresh made coffee could be sensed even before she reached the kitchen. Arriving there, the curly haired woman still found no signs of her boyfriend, so she went straight after the coffee maker pot sitting on the far left corner of the cream marble counter. Smiling softly at the tons of memories of Ashton's sleepy figure making their favorite beverage, she reached for a coffee mug on the cupboard on top of the counter and poured the remainder of the hot liquid on it (it's her favorite mug, if she must choose – it was a gift from a fan, and it had printed on it a collage of the pictures of her and Ashton that were posted on social media through their first year of relationship).
Moving to the glass doors that lead to the mini garden they cultivate, she didn't have to open them to spot the 6-feet-tall man sitting on a bench outside, looking oddly small in his oversized clothes, coffee mug tightly held between strong hands. Something about his figure made Olivia frown, however: he was staring with an unwavering look at her small but eye-catching pot of yellow daffodils that were almost as much of a pet to them as Stitch at this point. Sensing that there’s something definitely off about his semblance, she made a mental note to talk to him and find out what’s wrong later. So she goes back to the kitchen, knowing that he might need this quiet and private moment for himself.
She lost count of the minutes that went by (couldn't have been more than five) before she hears the garden's door opening and closing, and then his bare feet are dragging his brawny body to her. Except, he goes over to the sink, walking right through her, not showing any sign that he even saw her hunched figure over the counter table in the middle of the room.
Alright, someone's in a mood.
Olivia tries to swallow the annoyance already bubbling inside her – he knows how much she hates to be ignored, no matter how mad he might be – by trying to think of what she can say that won't piss him off. This is always a hard feat to accomplish when Ashton gets in these moods, but there’s a reason for them to work so well together.
“I missed my favorite body heater when I woke up,” she says in her best sweet voice, knowing how quickly his resolve crumbles when he hears that voice.
Still, no reaction.
That settles a worry at the pit of her stomach, because Ashton is never like this. Even when he's not in the mood to talk, he always gives some kind of reaction to her words; it doesn't matter how small, just enough to make her feel acknowledged.
When he's finished washing his mug and the few scattered dishes across the sink – she noticed that he already had lunch, if the lone plate in the drying rack is anything to go by –, he dries his hand in a towel, turns around and throws it on top of the same counter Olivia was leaning up against. Once again, he walks away not even sparing her a look.
Indignant, she leaves the now empty coffee mug on top of the table and follows him as he walks up the stairs, any determination to not aggravate his mood now well gone.
“Hey! In case you didn't notice, I'm right here. Whatever got you in this sour mood, I'm certainly not to blame, so can you stop being a child now and talk to me?!”
Ashton just keeps walking – more like sluggishly dragging his body – until he reaches their bedroom and suddenly stops just merely two feet inside the room, looking around with vacant eyes; like he was expecting to see something that wasn't there.
“Okay, that's really mature of you. Are you planning on ignoring me all day then?” Olivia questions exasperated, staring angrily at the back of his neck, where the condor tattoo lives – her favorite of his, but that sight doesn't bring her any peace today like it usually does.
Her glare only breaks when she hears the familiar sound of dog tags swaying on her right side. Shifting her gaze to the direction of the sound, Olivia notices Stitch, their small, black & white French bulldog – who she thought was outside in the garden – slowly trudging his way from around the bed until he stops at Ashton's feet, looking up at one of his humans with sad eyes. That realization only makes the worry in her stomach grow uncomfortably.
“Hi buddy,” Ashton's voice cracks a bit from the lack of use, but he smiles softly at the sweet dog, and crouches down to pet him.
Olivia can't help but gasp as she notices three things all at once that leave her overwhelmed: first, how she didn't even notice Stitch was in the room when she woke up – which never ever happens, in fact, most days he wakes her up whenever he deems her bedtime as finished and can't ever contain his excitement when she finally gets up; second, how the windows blinds are closed, which, again, rarely occurs under their roof, not if Ashton can help it. And third, how sad and melancholic the whole scene in front of her is – how sad and melancholic Ashton is. Pointless to say by now – that's also a very rare occasion.
A chill creeps up Olivia's spine, putting her body into high alert and also serving as a reminder of how everything looks out of place today. Trying to keep her head from spiraling down way too soon, she wraps her arms around herself and crouches down beside her two favorite boys, trying once more.
“Ash? Can you hear me?” even with her throat closing, she softly asks, purposefully putting her face in Ashton's point of view. Her only answer is the low whispers he's letting out to Stitch, while cradling the tiny dog in his arms, spreading gentle kisses on his head.
“I know, bud, I know. I miss her too,” is the only whisper she could understand and immediately wishes she hadn't. The weak wail that comes from Stitch's throat seems to fit perfectly with how the three of them feel.
Ashton then looks up and for a couple of seconds, and Olivia can swear he’s staring right into her eyes. But when he shows no reaction, she knows he’s just staring ahead and not at her, with that look that says there’s too much going on inside his head. She feels the urge to embrace him and get him to talk about whatever is on his mind, so they can share that weight like they always do, but when Ashton gets up from the ground and settles on the bed with Stitch, Olivia can physically feel the crack in her heart caused by the feeling she’s left with.
While Ashton is pulling the duvet over him and the dog, with clearly no intentions of getting up anytime soon, Olivia stands up on her feet with a new-found determination – she needs to figure out what the hell is going on.
This nightmare had to be just that, right? Nothing but a very vivid dream – she's had those before. Scary sure, but they always go away, and soon enough she's back into Ashton's arms, with Stitch jumping on the bed ready to lick their faces off. She just needs to wake herself up from whatever fucked up dream this is – right?
She's running down the stairs this time, frantically in search of something, of what exactly, she doesn’t know – but she knows she needs an answer. The more she looks for something, the more desperate she gets, not knowing what to look for. Then suddenly, something catches her eyes.
The white and blue calendar that's held up by magnets on the side of the fridge. She knows their calendar is red and yellow. They got it from their favorite flower market. Slowly, as if scared of what it might be there – “It's just a calendar, for fucks sake” – she approaches the damn thing. Upon inspection, she deems it as a normal calendar – she really doesn't know what she was expecting – until.
She knows what's wrong with it now.
It's November. She knows it, because the Asian and last leg of her first world tour is about to begin November 21st, eleven days from today. Right after Mike's birthday, she knows this.
Then why does the calendar say today is January 14th?
☆ ☆ ☆
Ashton woke up with a jolt. He quickly sat up, frightening the little Frenchie that was asleep right next to him on the bed. Trying to make sense of his surroundings, he roughly rubbed his face to get some sleep off of it and soon reached for the dog that was staring at him with sleepy but sad eyes. Ashton is sure Stitch understands far more than a dog is supposed to understand about their current situation.
The room is covered in shadows, almost pitch black, but he can see the sunlight even through the thick dark grey blinds covering up the windows. Ashton knows he won't be able to sleep again at that moment, so he gets up from the bed – much slower than he used to. His heartbeat is still out of control because of the nightmare that woke him up, but he can't bother to pay attention to it when Stitch is softly wailing beside him. Ashton lets out a ghost of a smile when the dog rests his head on his right upper thigh, looking up at him with an expression Ashton knows all too well.
“C'mon you little ravenous creature, let's feed you,” the bulldog excitedly jumps to the ground, already running his way down the stairs, not even waiting for Ashton to get up.
That gets a real smile out of him, but it vanishes as soon as he glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It reads 5:13 am, nothing out of the ordinary for him. But that small and inoffensive clock, with its red paint peeling off, holds a lot of memories for him. Memories that two months ago would bring joy to his heart, but now he almost wants to throw the object across the room.
It was a stupid thing, really. He had been wanting a vintage alarm clock and Olivia got one for his birthday. But the product they received was definitely not the one she bought, and if he's being honest, he didn't like it as much as he made out to. But seeing her so excited in the weeks before it arrived, and how disappointed she was when it did, he couldn't help but try his best to make her smile that luminous smile again. It's part of his nature by now.
That's also the reason why he lets her think that he doesn't notice when she wakes up at some ungodly hour (her words, not his) along with him, because of the annoying and only sound the alarm clock is able to produce. He always leaves soft kisses in every inch of bare skin he can find on her sleeping figure, so she goes back to the dream land and doesn't wake up before 10 am. No one wants to deal with that kind of bad humor, not even him.
As much as he likes being a morning person and absolutely enjoys her company in the mornings, he knows she'll take any and every extra hour of sleep she can get before starting the day. And that's why he loves that she's so stubborn that his early bird tendencies never got to her – he knows she feared that this would happen when they moved in together, but he met her like this, fell for her like this. He wouldn't change a single thing about her.
Ashton drags himself out of the bed, wincing slightly at how cold the wooden floors are under his bare feet. He doesn't bother putting some socks on, or a sweater – the cold weather in the house is uncharacteristically comforting to him. Nothing feels warm without her anyway.
While descending the stairs, he mentally curses himself for not being strong enough to look past the picture frames on the wall. One in particular catches his eyes – a picture from the night of Olivia's first concert with her band. The memories of that night are still painfully vivid in his mind: the laughter among their group that eventually infected everyone at the pub, Suki and Luke's first kiss and the silly smile that didn't leave his best friend's face all night, the standing ovation Olivia got after her three-songs set, and her captivating and breathtaking smile that made him realize right then and there, while watching her sway to the music, that he was definitely falling in love with her and there was nothing he could do to stop it – not that he wanted to.
So many memories held up on that wall, in the relatively short time since they met, that he can't help but wonder if that's all they'll get in this lifetime.
Ashton is abruptly taken out of his thoughts by Stitch's barks coming from the bottom of the stairs. He quickly jogs down the few steps left and goes straight after the dog's food in the kitchen's cabinet. After Stitch starts to happily devour his breakfast, Ashton goes to make his coffee, doing enough for two people like he always does, since Calum drops by most days for a chat or to drop Duke before going to work. Although all three of them know he just can't bother to make food for himself in the morning, while Ashton is the group's elected chef. Ashton always says he just needs a boyfriend – Olivia says Calum already has one who makes him breakfast every day.
He grabs an apple from the fridge and makes his way outside to their garden. Even though a lot of their memories took place there, the garden is the only space in the house where he doesn't feel like suffocating all the time. At least here, he can breathe some fresh air and look at the sky when he's feeling overwhelmed – which is basically all he's been doing for about a month now.
Yet, a lot of the garden has Olivia's name written all over.
He remembers vividly the day she came home after spending two weeks in LA doing some pocket shows, with a pack of daffodil seeds and the largest smile. She excitedly told him that a friend gifted it to her when she mentioned the little garden they were planning to build together at their new house. The friend told Olivia that daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings, so as the good lover of symbolism that she is, Olivia loved the idea of having those flowers to symbolize their new beginning.
Ashton, on the other hand, wasn't a fan of the flowers at first – he just didn't see the appeal to them. But nonetheless, he indulged her, letting Olivia plant the seeds near the bench they used to sit during the quiet and unrushed afternoons, so they could admire the sunset, and she could happily look at the daffodils.
Pointless to say – the damn flowers grew on him.
Now, however, looking at them without Olivia and her contagious joy next to him, they were back to be as dull as they were before, if not more so.
Still lost inside his head without any sense of how much time went by since he sat down, Ashton doesn't hear the front door closing, and doesn't notice that he's no longer the only person inside the house until someone sits next to him on the bench. Yet, he doesn't show any sign of acknowledgement to them.
A few minutes go by before either of them speaks up.
“Luke said you didn't go to see her yesterday,” Calum starts softly, not wanting to disturb the calmness of the morning.
Ashton takes a few seconds to respond, “No point in doing that.” The black haired man licks his lips while thinking carefully about his next words.
“You know staying inside this house all day by yourself won't help either,” Calum turns his head to his left and takes a good look at Ashton's uncharacteristically hunched over figure, and immediately thinks that anyone can tell this man is not himself anymore. His second thought is that Olivia would hate seeing him like this.
“And what exactly do you expect me to do? Move on with my life like nothing happened? Like I'm not slowly and painfully losing the love of my life? Just because it’s easy for you doesn't mean it's easy for me.”
Calum closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knows Ashton doesn't mean it, it's the anger and frustration talking. He knows it. Doesn't make it sting any less.
“I'm not telling you to move on with your life, because that's far from what I'm doing, and I certainly don't expect you to do it. I'm just saying you need to occupy your mind or else–”
“I'll go insane? Think it's a bit too late for that,” Ashton interrupts with a bitter tone that doesn't belong to his usual chirpy voice.
“You know it's not,” Calum sighs and drinks the rest of his coffee, moving his body slightly, so he's facing the blonde man, “I got a job interview for you at that school you talked about so much last summer, the principal said you can go any day this week. I went ahead and sent her your resume as well as explained everything that she needs to know about Olivia, so you don't have to. You just gotta put on some decent clothes and show up.” he sees Ashton's face softening a little and takes it as a victory. A few beats go by and then, “Maybe take a shower too. That's gonna make you feel better.” Calum leans in closer to his friend's personal space and takes a sniff, causing Ashton to deflect from him slightly, but not to push him away – another small win.
“Definitely take a shower, you stink. When was the last time your hair saw shampoo?”
“Fuck off,” is Ashton's only reply to the younger man's inquest. But Calum can see a smile creeping up on the blonde's face, which brings out a smile of his own.
“I'll send you all the details later today,” he checks the hour on the watch on his wrist and gets up, “Just please, Ash, go. I can't lose you too.”
Calum gently lays a hand on Ashton's shoulder and squeezes a little. The man doesn't look up, but gives a curt nod to his friend, who's satisfied enough. Calum stops on the threshold of the garden glass doors to give some kisses to Stitch – who came to make Ashton company as soon as he finished his food –, and then he puts the coffee mug on the dishwater. And soon enough, he's on his way out of the door. But not before snatching a tangerine from the fridge.
Ashton is left by himself once again. As he hears the sound of the front door closing, he thinks that this might be his life from now on. Just him and Stitch, trying their hardest to make it through another miserable day without the love of their lives. While everyone else comes by just to make sure he's still breathing. Breathing, maybe, but alive?
Swallowing the tears, he looks up at the sky. It's a deep, beautiful mix of orange, pink and blue, but he knows that it won't last long and soon the rain will be pouring down. He thinks about how much Olivia loves the rain.
God, he needs to pull himself together. She would hate to see him like this. Maybe he should take Calum's offer after all, he really needs to occupy his mind.
Making a mental note to thank Calum later, and also to apologize for how rude he was to him this morning, Ashton slowly gets up from the bench to put his mug on the sink and makes his way to the living room, with the small dog loyally following his every step. He puts on some cartoon that for once doesn't remind him of her (she always lovingly made fun of him for still watching those) and cuddles with Stitch on the couch. He can take a shower later.
Not half an hour goes by, he falls asleep and has a good dream for a change. He dreams of the days he spent with Olivia in the Philippines last February, right before her first world tour started. Some of the most magical days of their lives – surrounded by delicious food, a whole new culture to learn about and the warmth of the sun. Infinite counted days full of love and passion, where they were the only people in the world.
Even his subconscious knows to hold on to that brief moment of happiness, because he might never live that again.
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emwritesstuff · 3 years
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as the world caves in | ch. 9 | bucky barnes x reader
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synopsis: You are a ghost story. A former Air Force pilot who had her plane shot down by Germany in 1945, but here you were in 2023, alive and frozen in your 25-year-old body.
You haven’t seen Bucky since the 1940’s, before his fall, before you went on a suicide mission only to come back alive. You aren’t sure reliving those memories – and being a living memory of everything the man has lost – is the best for him.
But you and Bucky won’t be apart for long.
This will loosely follow the plot of TFATWS - so spoilers ahead, specially regarding episode six (finale). Thread carefully!
masterlist | AO3
notes:  thank you everyone for your patience with this chapter. I'm dropping this lil shortie so we can get the story moving. Let's go! (warnings: lil' fluff, lil' angst) (word count: 3K) nine: records
Bucky knocked on your door a few weeks later.
It was late, and you were snug in your pajamas, winding down after a long day. With your identity no longer a secret, the government was in the midst of transferring you to something more… hands-on, and definitely less diplomatic, you were assuming; so much for retirement, but you figured 30 years of it had been more time than you could’ve anticipated.
You almost didn’t hear the soft rapping on wood over Vera Lynn’s mellow singing.
When you finally opened it, you found him standing there, wearing tired eyes and a dark coat. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but I started walking and I—"
“When I said you’re welcome anytime, Bucky Barnes, I meant any time.”
A tiny fraction of a smile was offered your way, and you grasped it tight against your heart at the same time you do his hand, pulling him inside.
His fingers lingered on yours, but before you could start thinking about it he pulled away, taking a seat at the edge of your couch. “I finished it. The book.”
Bucky answered your question before you could ask it. “I just came from there. The last one– the last name.”
“Well. Are you alright?” You sat next to him, your knee knocking against his, and his gaze went from the floor, to the spot where your legs touched, and then to you. He knitted his eyebrows, seeming a little incredulous you were even asking.
“I will be.” His hands intertwined on the space between his knees, and you placed a hand ton his shoulder, getting him to look at you again.
“Yes, you will. Do you want to talk about it?”
One corner of Bucky’s lip raised up, and he shook his head. “Is that Vera Lynn?”
You smiled, turning to look at your record player as if Vera herself was sitting next to it. “It is. Takes me back, I guess.”
“It’s all we’d listen to at the front.”
Nodding, you wondered for a second if Bucky remembered dancing to We’ll Meet Again the night before he was shipped off. Even if you weren’t the only girl he had danced with then, you still asked yourself if that memory was burned on his mind as it was on yours.
We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when. A short-term promise, made back then by hopeful lovers, friends, family members; you had no idea that those lyrics would prove themselves so literal when you and Bucky mouthed them at each other in the middle of a dancefloor.
You let out a breathy chuckle, standing up and beckoning him to where you kept the rest of your vinyl. “Come on. Vera’s starting to feel a little too nostalgic to me.”
Your record collection was pretty extensive, ranging from things of the good ol’ days from the special editions that were still being released nowadays. Bucky joined you on the floor, and together you started to make your way through decades eternized in discs.
“Marvin Gaye.”
You look up from The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust, finding Bucky making a face at the album he was holding. “It’s really good. Do you want to—”
“No. No more Marvin Gaye.”
You furrowed your eyebrows. “You don’t like him?”
“I like Marvin Gaye! Jesus. Marvin is good—Marvin’s jus’ fine,” Bucky rubbed his eyes with his thumb and middle finger, and you finally understood.
“Sam’s been preaching you the word of R&B to you too, huh?”
You giggled at the tired look he gave you and silently took Trouble Man out of his hands, stuffing it back with the rest of the 1970’s.
Years ago, Bucky would be delighted to dive headfirst in the new – your trips to countless science fairs and expositions were enough proof of that – but looking at him now, knowing him as you were starting to once again, you figured that just a dip of the toes was more than enough.
You pulled Frank Sinatra from the 1950’s section.
“I know Sinatra.”
“Do you now?”
You put the record on your player, and Vera Lynn’s longing gave way to Sinatra’s swagger and jazz.
“Do you?” Bucky teased, frowning at the most recent items in your collection. As soon as Frank’s voice filled the silence, he nodded. “Yeah, that’s nice.”
“I do know him! Or did. Met ‘im in 1962.” You plopped next to Bucky, who was shaking his head. “What?”
“Show off.”
“No, just been around. Met people on the way. And, you asked.” Your smirk grew into a grin as Bucky mouthed your words back at you. Then his face fell for a second, and your amusement was quickly replaced by worry. “What is it?”
“Nothing, I guess – I guess I just missed a lot.” The same way one of the corners of his lips tug on his cheek again in his attempt of a smile, melancholy tugs at your heartstrings. “I missed out on everything. And I missed out on you.”
Bucky’s head was low as he spoke and you could see the tremble of his hands, even though he clutched one of your records tightly. Nina Simone, 1960’s.
“M’not going anywhere, you know.”
“You still lived an entire lifetime—”
“I did, yes, thank you for constantly reminding me that I’m over 100 years old.” You shook your head at him, sighing softly when he chuckled.
You couldn’t blame him, for clinging to every bit of past he’d missed while he was in HYDRA’s clutches – you knew that was inevitable, but you wished that such sorrow wasn’t so related to you.
“What are you doin’?” He asked as you summoned a small stool from the side of your shelf and stepped on it.
“I want to show you somethin’.” The thing you were looking for was stored at the very top: a heavy, brown leather suitcase that almost made you lose your balance when you pulled it from the spot it had been sitting in for—honestly, years, many of them.
The contents of the suitcase rattled as you climbed down and sat next to Bucky again. Sinatra still playing, telling his lover I've got you under my skin, I've got you, deep in the heart of me;
You almost laughed from the truth and irony of it.
I'd tried so, not to give in
I said to myself this affair never will go so well
You unlocked the suitcase, revealing the gathered memories inside. Pictures, movie tickets, theater playbooks, receipts, trinkets. All souvenirs of the 80 something years of your life Bucky hadn’t been there to see.
Not organized in the slightest, the keepsakes of your life were tossed together and out of order just as in your memory: photographs of you in uniform, and sometimes in party dresses; of when you bought your house; of the few times you had pets. Posing next to famous people and other important ones whose names weren’t as well known by the world.
As you and Bucky went through each of them, you added a story or an explanation, sometimes both, to fill him in on the details of your life events. He laughed at some, frowned at a lot, stared at you intently for all of them.
“Is this Berlin?”
You hummed, nodding. “1989. That party was great.”
“Party?” Bucky knitted his eyebrows in surprise.
“The city was unified, the wall was being taken down, and everyone was celebrating. I’ve never seen that many bottles of vodka in one place.” You laughed, taking a good look at yourself in the picture.
The 80’s were definitely not your best decade, looks wise. You had tried a perm the year before, and the poodle look was only then starting to dial down. The beginnings of a bruise were starting to creep on your left eye, from the mission you had completed just a few hours before.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been that drunk.”
Bucky’s surprise intensified, his eyes wide. “We can’t get drunk.”
“Yes we can.”
“No, no we can’t.”
“We can, in fact. It’s all a matter of quantity and, well, speed.” You giggled as Bucky’s mouth gaped more.
“And the hangover?”
“Horrible. Like getting shot on the forehead. Comes quickly, too.”
He grimaced, and with one last look – certainly to register your peculiar appearance on his mind – gently put the picture back inside the suitcase. A stack of papers seemed to call out to him and he picked it up, releasing them from the band that held them together carefully.
Postcards of the places you’ve been: a small note to James Barnes and Steve Rogers on the back of each one.
Bucky’s voice faltered. He let out an anguished little sound, probably something that was supposed to be an Oh, or a What, but had no strength to crawl up his throat.
You brought your knees to your chest as you waited for him.
“You—you wrote to us?”
“I did. You can keep those, they’re addressed to you.”
After all this time, you could barely remember the words you wrote in those postcards; all you knew was that some had longer messages, others a simple Wish you were here.
“After we met in Baltimore, I thought that— that you’d have moved on from us.”
From me.
As if that was possible.
“Well, I stopped writing by 2003, give or take. But really,” You sighed. “It’s hard to forget someone when you’ve always been expecting them to come back to you.”
Bucky flipped the postcard from Rome, read the writing and smiled wistfully at it. “And, I did.”
“You did. And staying away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but—”
“But you’re annoyingly stubborn.” His jaw tightened, then relaxed when he smirked. “I mean, I get it – If the roles were reversed, I’d leave you rebuild your life without me like a self-sacrificing idiot too.”
Alright. That was fair.
Shaking your head, you watched as he slipped the postcards in his pocket, an amused expression on his face.
“That was… a big mistake. Something a self-sacrificing idiot would do,” You screwed your eyes shut in shame, opening them when Bucky chuckled. “but now, I’m right here. And so are you.”
His stubble scratched the soft skin of your palm when you reached for him, and you continued. “We’re a little out of place in this century, that much is true, but if I’m being honest… I’m getting tired of yearning for the past, Buck.”
Good old times – sometimes really good, sometimes bad, every one of them old – tucked away in your heart like your records were tucked in neatly in their shelf, organized by year. As you went through the decades, your enhanced body eternizing you like marble, your heart seemingly stayed at that army camp overseas. Or maybe Sergeant Bucky Barnes had taken it with him, only for them to be frozen together, leaving you with an empty hole in your chest.
You lived your life longing for that missing piece, the one with blue eyes and the dashing smile and the skilled feet.
The one that in many other stories was the one that got away, the one who now believed he was somebody else, but had brought your heart back with him all the same.
The very heart that nearly leapt out of your chest when Bucky rested his forehead against yours.
You’ve never been this close – there isn’t an ounce of past in the gesture. His eyes being tightly closed kept him from seeing the surprise on your eyes and then how they fell to his lips for a millisecond. Then, those lips brushed against yours in a featherlike touch.
I would sacrifice anything, come what might
For the sake of having you near
He pried himself off you when you exhaled, as if your very breath had electrocuted him.
“M’sorry. I—I didn’t—” He said as you stared at the back of his neck, and the shock gives way to disappointment.
I didn’t mean to. Or maybe: I didn’t want to.
“That’s—it’s okay.” You clapped your hands on your knees, still feeling the prickle of his facial hair on them, and got up to change the music.
There was no doubt Bucky was touch starved, and that he probably craved the closeness that comes with a lover. He sought that for a fleeting second in Sam’s sister, and now in you. No point in dwelling on what it might have meant.
Right?
Looking at Bucky, his expression was overcast, furrowed eyebrows as he watched you from his spot on the floor. You offered him a gentle smile, and the crease on his forehead eased up slightly.
Right.
Don't you know little fool, you never can win
The record player made a scratching sound as you replaced Frank Sinatra with your go-to jazz compilation. Instrumental.
No lyrics.
There was one thing you’ve always been good at, regarding the infatuation with Bucky Barnes that has taken over your heart for almost a century now: locking the feelings away and stepping into the shoes of the best friend.
Besides, you’ve said it yourself: no more yearning for the past. Hopefully you and Bucky would be able to do that soon enough.
At that moment, however, you needed to feel the burn of whiskey down your throat and pretend it’ll heal the calcinating rejection spreading through your chest.
The guilt you found in Bucky’s eyes as he watched you sweep around your hardwood floors made you pour a glass for him.
He took it gratefully, frowning when you bottomed the whole thing up.
“There’s a lot in here.” He tapped the edge of the suitcase, skillfully steering the conversation in the direction of the more palatable, calm territory it was in before.
The sight of your autobiographical collection made you smile.
“An entire lifetime,” You said, fishing your dog tags from the bottom. “I suppose that’s where it started. Or at least, where thisstarted.”
Bucky took them reverentially, running his thumb over the imprint of your name and numbers.
He reached for his neck, producing from under his Henley the same type of metal chain he was holding in his hands. The fact that he still wore his like that sent a sharp blow to your lungs, almost knocking the air out of you.
His face softened, a smile so beautiful spreading across his lips, so much that your chest clenched in protest because it was simply not fair, how he still had you entirely.
He deposited both of your dog tags in your hands, and that’s when you saw it, and remembered it.
“Won’t we get in trouble for this?”
“Do you care?”
“Well…No.” You sighed, already resigned. And a little excited.
Bucky knew you well: it had been too long of being a good little soldier when all you were used to was the rush of being a hellion.
“And that is why, sugar, that I’m doing this with you, and not with Steve.”
The words made your heart soar, but you were sure to recapture it before it could fly away too high, still too attached to the sensation of the take-off to clip its wings.
You liked flying.
“And because Steve hasn’t been successful in his enlisting efforts. Yet.”
Bucky looked at you from behind his eyebrows, a reprimand hiding in his eyes, but he decided to shove his uniform hat on your head instead. You grumbled, calling him a jerk under your breath.
It was the night before Bucky was drafted to England. He looked handsome in his uniform, a shining, polished star, brighter than the sun even under the dim streetlight you two stood under.
After bringing his and Steve’s dates home (yours was lost to another boxing match along the way – not that you were crying about that) Bucky had decided he was going to stay up all night, because, in his words, he could sleep when the war was over. Or, more realistically, in the ship on the way to England.
So there you two were, illuminated by street lamps and moonlight, visiting the façades and front windows of your favorite places in Brooklyn like drifters in the night.
Bucky still concentrated on his task, his shoulder hunched slightly to block your sight.
“Let me see! Bucky!”
“ ’Sposed to be a surprise! I’m almost done.”
You huffed, crossing your arms. “It’s not like I haven’t seen ‘em before.”
“You gotta be more patient. Here.”
He dropped your dog tags on your hand. You displayed the small steel plates on your palm, scanning your eyes over the two. One of them, of course, had your name, number, blood type, next of kin – an aunt you’ve never met – and address.
The other had Bucky’s.
James B Barnes. 32557038.
He slipped his own chain over his head, the plate with your name clinking against his.
You brought the tips of your fingers to your lips, feeling a smile begin to form onto them.
“I forgot we did this. I haven’t looked at these in so long.”
You had stopped wearing your dog tags the day the war had ended – Bucky was gone then, Steve too, and the weight of his dog tags slamming against your chest was too much to bear – your heart was already heavy with its own engraving of their memories.
“Steve had a lecture prepared when he gave mine back.” Bucky chuckled when you looked up at him, incredulous.
You shook your head, half exasperated and half amused. “Good grief, Steve.”
“Y’know how he is. Was,” He trailed, lips twitching as they formed a thin line.
You reached for him, your hand hovering in the space between you for a second before Bucky took it, lacing your fingers. Scooting closer, you let your cheek rest on his shoulder.
“He’d be glad we’re reunited.” You said, raising your head to peek at him and the newfound upwards curl of his lip. “And mortified we’re still bickering.”
Bucky smiled and squeezed your hand. “Old people. Old habits.”
Laughter bubbled out of your chest, and you realized a few things.
In that moment, it didn’t matter – the heartache, the unrequited side of your love. It was just a fact, a fact of life, of your life, that you a lot of the times loved him as more than your best friend. You loved him. And that was the core of it, the most important fact.
And you knew he loved you – you had each other – in this big, ever-changing, modern world, you had Bucky and Bucky had you.
You sat in comfortable, familiar silence until your eyelids grew heavy and you felt yourself drifting in and out of consciousness.
“You dozin’ on me, sugar?”
“It’s been a long day.” You said with your eyes still closed, feeling him chuckle beside you.
“Tell me about it. I can go—”
“You know damn well you should stay.” You patted his arm and hoisted yourself up from the floor. “I’ll get the pull-up ready for you.”
As you sauntered towards the office, ignoring his pleads and protests that he’s got it, he doesn’t need sheets or anything, you put your dog tags back on.
They jingled lightly against your heart.
Maybe you didn’t have to leave all of the past behind to start building something good and new, after all.
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vivisextion · 3 years
Text
I first saw Slipknot at age 14.
No one knows how I managed it. I'm not sure I even remember. These days, you have to be 16 or 18 to get into Standing areas. I do know I had to buy tickets on the phone, back in the old days (2005, that is). A singular ticket, too - none of my friends, not even the classmate who had gone with me to see Linkin Park the year before, was that into Slipknot.
But I HAD to see them. This was the Subliminal Verses tour cycle, and Vol. 3 was my first and favourite Slipknot album, even to this day. It's the reliable old warm blanket for my soul whenever I need it. It's on right now, as I write this.
My memory isn't that good, but luckily I unearthed a livejournal (livejournal!) diary entry about the event I made the next day.
August 16, 2005. I went right after school. I went to a very conservative Anglican secondary school, too. I tried not to get caught in the bathroom, as I coloured my nails black with permanent marker (I know, don't laugh) and changed into my standard metalhead baby outfit - Slipknot band shirt, black cargo shorts, and my pride and joy: steel-toe boots I somehow managed to cajole my parents into letting me own.
I caught the bus to the open-air war memorial park where the gig was going to be. I got there at 4pm, 4 hours early. A couple other maggots were already hanging around. I found myself surrounded by tombstones, and I read them all. It was the middle of the Hungry Ghost Festival, too - a very fitting time for Slipknot to pay a visit to this godforsaken hellhole of a small town I lived in. (Especially given the paranormal circumstances surrounding the making of Vol. 3.)
While I wandered around the venue (no security or sound guys were around at all), I spotted two white vans pull up to the stage, in the middle of a clearing. It was them! I spotted Joey and missed him by a hair's breadth. I was quickly ushered behind the stone archway entrance by security then.
(Funnily enough, while walking around, I got mistaken for Joey more than once. I am the same height as him, had the same long black hair, same pale skin, and was wearing almost exactly what he had been. One person claimed from behind, I was a dead ringer, apart from when I turned around, and they realised I was Chinese.)
It was soundcheck time. A sound guy testing the mics would say random things, like "testing one two three two one.... fudge fudge, I like fudge...." The band even did Purity, so us earlybirds were given a rare treat, and we screamed along from the entrance, and drummed our fists on the sides of nearby porta-potties. I hope no one was in there at the time. Whenever we got a glance of any of them, we'd scream and cheer. Finally they left again, but were soon to return.
This was the first time I'd been a part of the metal community. I was barely allowed internet in those days. But here, random strangers were friendly, striking up conversations like they'd been friends for years. Two big guys, called Trevor and Ted, looked out for me the entire gig after, keeping other big dudes from crushing me too much (I'm 5'3, remember). Other people commented on me being so baby, because I was only 14, and said they would take care of me.
When we were finally let in, right after the usher cut the rope, I ran in, screamed "WOOOHOOO!" along with a few friends I'd made. I only briefly stopped to receive this RoadRunner Records compilation CD from a roadie, then resumed running like a madman screaming and dashing into the VIP cage.
I was right up against the barricade - the first time I would ever be at a gig. People from assorted magazines and press took photos of us, and I think I got my photo taken about 10 times at least.
(This is how I got in trouble with my parents the next day. My photo had ended up in a local paper - you can see examples of that here. They had no idea what I'd been to see the night before, and were horrified when they saw what Slipknot looked like.)
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We saw Sid filming us from the stage with a camcorder and screamed at him. We saw Jim and screamed at him too, and he flashed the victory sign back at us. I remember Metallica playing at the time, another one of my favourite bands.
The concert was a brutal religious experience I will never forget. People with their arms outstretched, crying and screaming out loud, moving like the devil possessed them.
The new friends around me made sure I was alright after every song! There were huge guys fainting behind us who had to get carried out, but I endured, a tiny 14 year old child. We got a family speech as per tradition, of course. "Are you guys out there all looking out for each other? We're all one big family, and we gotta look out for each other." What Corey said held true - strangers hugged, shook hands, talked, and made friends. I was heartened by how close-knit the maggot community was. It really did feel like a family, and it's felt like that ever since.
Of course, I did my first Jump The Fuck Up. It is possibly the most euphoria I've ever experienced all at one go. (Later, in 2020, I was extremely disappointed that I didn't get to do it again in London.)
They did the death masks for Vermilion, and I remember Chris helping Sid fix his mask and shirt when they'd changed back. Sid hung out near Clown's drums for most of the time too, and hugged him from behind and just latched on at one point. It was pretty adorable.
Fun fact: The version of Eyeless you hear on the 9.0 Live album is from Singapore, as is Eeyore. There are very few photos and videos from the crowd of this gig, because in 2005, very few people had camera phones. The crowd at the Slipknot gig in 2020 was a sea of arms with phones, filming the gig rather than experiencing it. Yes, I'm going to be that cranky old geezer who complains about the good old days.
Joey as usual, was fucking amazing and never failed. However, due to the fact that I was right up front, only his tiny head was visible behind his vast drum set, I couldn't see him the entire gig.
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Amazingly, the government told Slipknot they were not allowed to do obscene gestures, curse, vomit (possibly due to the decomposing crow pre-show ritual), simulate humping on objects, throw faeces, or jump off stage (looking at you, Sid). I don't think our totalitarian government knew who they were dealing with, because watch what happens next.
Near the end of the gig, Corey tells the crowd “your government has given us a laundry list of things we aren’t allowed to do, your government has told us we are not allowed to swear”. Crowd goes “BOOOOOOOOO” and Corey goes “BUT WE DON’T GIVE A FUCK!!” And they launch into Surfacing, the last song. Everyone riots. Best night of my life.
You can find the setlist from that gig here. It had everything I wanted and more.
This story later got immortalised when Kerrang asked maggots for gig stories, for an article which came out in 2020. I had forgotten entirely, until people began messaging me to tell me, and one friend sent me a scan of it!
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On the way out, I managed to get a shirt. I remember calling my best friend at the time, and got everyone at the merch booth to go "IF YOU'RE 555 THEN I'M 666" for her. This shirt has since been lost to the landfill, because my Christian mother took it upon herself to dispose of it the first opportunity she got. Needless to say, our relationship is not very good.
After that, I even managed to get that Roadrunner compilation album they were giving out signed. The band was staying at the Carlton. Unfortunately, Joey wasn't there, neither was Clown, and Mick was swarmed by guitar nerds so, 6/9 it is. It is a great regret of mine that I'll never have anything signed by him, nor will I ever get to see him perform ever again.
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The next day, I went to school, my head swimming. Yes, I went to see Slipknot ON A SCHOOL NIGHT. I was a giant bruise, from my ribs and my chest, to my hips and knees, from being slammed into the barricade like a screen door in a hurricane. Most of all, my sore, headbanged-out neck could barely hold my head up. Classmates thought I had been in a fight. I was torn between battle-scarred exhaustion and hyperactive ranting about the most amazing gig of my short life (it still is, to this day). When teachers spoke to me, I wanted to reply, "Fuck trigonometry! I've just seen SLIPKNOT. Do you not understand that my world is different? Do you not understand that *I* am now different?"
My country was a small, conservative town that Slipknot had graced with their unholy presence. Corey Taylor once said that where he grew up in Iowa had a way of making a 16 year old boy feel like a 36 year old man (or something to that effect). I felt that in my weary bones as a teenager, being from a place just like that. Years later, Watain would run into worse trouble, and wouldn't even be allowed to perform. The Christian stranglehold is stronger than ever. It was a good thing that back then Slipknot had the element of surprise, striking serpent-fast and choking this society by the neck for a too-brief time, before they departed.
After that, my desire to play the drums only grew like a weed. Joey Jordison had, has, and will always inspire me as a drummer, and seeing the beast live (or what little I could spy behind the massive riser) had only spurred me on. I had always been a noisemaker, be it driving my parents mad with chopsticks on pots and pans, or driving my teachers mad with pencils on my desk. But of course, my parents wouldn't have any of it. I'd have to wait a good 14 more years before I'd be able to afford lessons and later, a kit of my own. Better late than never, right?
There will never be enough words to describe the impact Joey has had on my life. And it isn't just Slipknot, either. I could write another essay on his time with the Murderdolls and its influence on my own gender-non-conforming ways. Suffice to say, my wardrobe doesn't look too dissimilar to his during the early Dead in Hollywood days.
I told my boss I could not come into work today. I was grieving. I said that my music teacher died, as I didn't think she'd understand the magnitude of my loss. In a way, it's true. And I am not the only one Joey has nudged on the path to being a musician, that much is certain. To the rest of us, I wish strength and love for you in this difficult time. The best way to honour Joey, who truly loved music, both the creation and appreciation of it, is to pass that gift on. Teach it to someone. He is the reason I picked up the sticks in the first place, and one day, they'll be handed on, the heavy metal baton for the next generation.
And finally: remember that the ones we have lost are never truly gone.
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Vinnie
P.S. See if you can spot me in the crowd photos in this post!
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notsuchacleverboyq · 3 years
Text
00Q AU
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The Walking Dead AU
What would happen if 007 and Q got stuck together in a zombie apocalypse?
The following text contains "The Walking Dead" characters and it doesn't take place in a specific period of the TV serie.
Voices or groans? He couldn't tell from that distance.
Stopping to listen closely, James firstly noticed that those sounds came from where he had left Q some hours before.
It wasn't good.
The sound seemed steady, deep and continuous. It didn't change, like the sounds the deads made, but still it wasn't enough to decide whether it was a person or something else.
Moving slowly and cautiously, James hoped for the forest to hide him from whatever had found Q. He slid through the trees, stopping behind an enough thick one to listen better.
Still a steady and deep sound, nothing different. It was only when it became dangerously louder that James actually decided what it was.
- Oh, the little faggot is British -
A man, an adult, James noticed. The adrenaline ran through his veins not more than a few seconds after as he took the gun from the holster, trying to get closer without being seen.
Hidden by a tree, the agent was able to see the man who had talked: a tall, muscled man with shaved hair was standing in the middle of the spot in which James and Q had precariously camped, firmly pointing a gun at the quartermaster's temple. The last detail got the majority of the agent's attention.
Q had been forced to kneel down with both hands on his nape, wide green eyes circles by grey eye bags, still visible even now that he was staring at the ground.
- I've got no interest in hurting you - the quartermaster said, trying to sound sharp as always.
The man pressed the gun against Q's head with a rough movement, causing the quartermaster to hold his breath and squeeze his eyes.
- Shut up - the man replied, rudely.
From behind a tree, James tightened his grip on the gun, scanning the enemy to decide how to deal with him.
He clearly had had some kind of training, judging by his body and how he used and held the gun. Possibly some soldier or policeman.
James had dealed with worse in his life, but with an hostage it was different. Still, he couldn't leave Q there any longer.
- Is there someone else with you? - the man questioned, leaning his face closer to Q's.
From there, James could almost feel the quartermaster's deep breath as he attempted to talk.
- No, I... - he started.
- Bullshit - the man interrupted him.
The gun released a dull click and Q whined quietly as his breath became shaky.
- Who's here with you? - the man groaned.
James looked closely at Q, getting from his expression that he was going to lie again, he was going to protect him, and the agent knew it wasn't a good idea.
- I'm alone, I swear... - he answered, sounding scared this time.
There was only a loud and disappointed grumble from the man as he moved the gun away from the other's head, grabbing Q by the hair. The quartermaster whined louder as he was dragged to the ground like trash, the man's grip still firmly pulling his curls.
The scene was enough to get James to emerge from his hideout, the Walther readily pointed at the man's head.
- Get your hands off of him - the agent demanded, immediately gaining his enemy's attention.
His senses, sharpened by the adrenaline, were able to feel Q's breath stopping as the man pulled his hair to get him to sit down, while turning towards James.
- So, here's your friend - the man said, looking at Q with a disturbing smile.
The agent took a deep breath, steadily staring at the man, making sure he didn't dare to raise his gun again.
- I said: hands off of him - James repeated.
The man looked at him.
- What if I don't? - he asked.
- Then, I'll make sure he's the last thing on Earth you'll touch - the agent groaned.
James took a second to look at Q, noticing how the quartermaster desperately tried to keep his breath calm, but didn't seem to succeed.
Then, something else caught his attention: three figures, approaching them really quickly. Apparently they were running, so they were living beings, but not necessarily friendly.
- Shane, what's going on? - one of the figures asked.
He was the first to arrive, wearing what looked like a sheriff uniform.
- He's trying to kill me - Shane replied and still James didn't pull down the gun.
- And you're threatening my partner - the agent snapped in response.
Soon after, they were approached by an Asiatic man and a man carrying a crossbow, both staring at the scene with tensed muscles, perhaps deciding how to respond to all of that.
The only sound for a few seconds was another quiet whine from Q, as a consequence to Shane's grip tightening more on his hair.
- Hands off of him! - James demanded again, now making it sound like a real order.
As foreseeing a physical reaction from the agent, the sheriff got closer to Shane.
- You're scaring him - the man told him.
Shane froze but immediately turned to face the other, tugging Q while doing so.
- He might be dangerous, Rick- he protested.
- He's unarmed - Rick replied.
James sighed heavily, getting impatient and running on adrenaline, knowing how close he was to pull the trigger.
- Let him go, you're scaring him - Rick muttered, using such an authority to remind the agent of M.
The two man stared at eachother, Rick still recalling the authority of his demand and Shane looking like he was really far from obeying.
However, his fingers slowly untangled from Q's curls and the quartermaster immediately stood up with clumsy movements, approaching James like a scared child looking for refuge in a mother.
The agent wrapped an arm around the quartermaster's slender figure, protectively squeezing him against his left side.
- Are you okay? - he whispered, still staring at Shane.
Q let out a deep, shaking breath.
- Backup question? - he asked back.
There was no need to add anything.
With that simple, sarcastic answer, James slowly got Q to stand behind him, but keeping him enough close to still be able to hold him as he felt him shivering.
- Put the gun down: we won't hurt you - Rick calmly said.
James chuckled bitterly.
- You haven't given this impression so far - he snapped, his gaze still locked on Shane.
Rick nodded.
- I understand that you're...scared and trying to protect your partner, but you can trust us - he replied.
Analyzing the situation, there was a big chance that Shane wasn't the only one armed, which brought James in disvantage.
Needing to protect Q while being in minority, tired and starving wasn't good.
He needed to trust that man, willy-nilly.
With a silent sigh, James pulled the gun down, protectively shielding Q.
- Just know that if you touch him again, I'll consider myself authorized to kill you all - the agent snapped.
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