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#he could just like a post by a player you know? instead of saying something
statementlou · 5 months
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Louis might not be chucking bricks at No. 10, but people are responding like he’s never displayed leftist politics or challenged a government position on anything. He supported demands to the government about a fix for UK touring musician post Brexit and Marcus Rashford’s petition about food insecurity. He fought the police about their social media use in 2018 and criticised the UK government position/support for factory workers in the pandemic. The things he speaks about are usually UK issues and meaningful to him or his family and friends. He’s also most likely to speak when he isn’t working. Also that specific anarchy has a punk anti authoritarian message as well. That statement fits Louis pretty well. He has been a poster boy for not sitting down and shutting up and doing what you’re told since 2012. If he was he probably wouldn’t have a solo career and he definitely wouldn’t have sold out the O2.
I like this point about him speaking out more when he's not working, I think that's a really great and useful observation and makes so much sense. I feel like it makes sense in two ways right now: like first, I don't blame him for not wanting to do things that would jeopardize how beautifully everything is going for him right now after the number of setbacks and troubles he's had to get here, it must feel so precarious. And knowing for a fact that any political statement you make will spawn a dozen tabloid stories and all kinds of outrage is bad enough, but add to that the fact that it's simply impossible to predict which thing will turn into a huge viral mess- it's a lot. And second, he's not just working, he's been on TOUR! I've been around musicians my whole life and one constant is that tour is time outside of normal time and life, it's a bubble, it's only paying attention to right where you are and what's in front of you and the people there with you and everything else is put off and neglected, is for when you get home (and have massive post tour letdown depression and fatigue). I'm not saying he can disconnect with the outside world entirely... but putting everything on pause? I would be surprised if it were any other way, and I would be surprised if he's been following the news and counter news and so forth closely enough to feel comfortable speaking out publicly about anything when it will be so scrutinized and picked apart. I would add to your list supporting the rail strike (something we wouldn't even know about if it hadn't been tossed in as an aside by an interviewer in the print only version of a piece, he didn't post about it or anything) and attending and posting about the BLM protests (not to mention telling people to pirate his stuff come on how punk is that), and I agree he is much more likely to speak out about UK issues which makes sense: most people are most moved by issues that are close to their lives in some way, and it's his brand. And I agree that even though as an anarchist I love talking about what anarchism as a political ideology actually is, the symbol does also have a common meaning in the world as just basically standing for anti-authoritarianism, and Louis as a guy who rejects authority and the status quo is nothing new at all and one of the reasons we love him, and in the last few years I feel like he's been going further in that direction both aesthetically and politically, and we love to see it! Plus he has pretty much always sported this slightly punky aesthetic to some degree, even when he was being dressed up like a little ken doll he snuck in skater looks and indie band tees and so forth (something something it's part of why his fanbase was so primed to love his new sound and it wasn't the risk he feared it was because people were always drawn to him who were already into that aesthetic even when his sound wasn't that yet) it's not like it's just a brand new out of nowhere side of him or something.
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messiahzzz · 5 months
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i have seen several posts around that addressed how discouraging gale from taking the crown of karsus is “keeping him from realizing his true potential.” that tara is merely upset at his choice, instead of being utterly devastated at the loss of her little love. that it’s not a bad ending per se because to get there he didn’t need to sacrifice 7000 innocent souls in the process. gale isn’t continuing the cycle of abuse either, he still appears to love tav and does come back for them to offer them ascension. he wants them to be equal, so it can’t possibly be an unhealthy dynamic, right?
but what of gale himself, his own convictions, values, and everything he holds dear? everything flawed and human that shaped him into the person he is?
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player: are you saying you want to ascend? claim godhood?
gale: no, not like that. i don't want to join them. i want to better them. a god's powers, paired with a mortal conscience, a mortal heart.
gale’s motivation for acquiring godhood is that he will able to aid mortals in a way no other god has ever done before. he won’t hide behind pretense nor require blind devotion of his followers. he will understand and be able to empathize. he wholeheartedly believes that he will be different - he will act.
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gale: [..] the gods could aid us if they wished, but instead they cower behind ao. so let us act ourselves.
gale believes that by becoming a god he will kill two birds with one stone: aid mortals and acquire enough power to quash any of his insecurities and enemies in the process. that by ridding himself of every perceived flaw he'll finally feel like he will have enough to offer - maybe, just maybe he'll even be content. his flaws are merely holding him back from becoming the best version of himself, and by ridding himself of everything fallible, he will be whole. maybe this is what all of his suffering has led up to. maybe the orb chose him. maybe the reason he had to endure all the pain, isolation, and excruciating loneliness was so that he could realize that he was meant for something even greater. after all, power feeds ambition. and what is more powerful than a god? his convictions were certainly naive, he possesses enough knowledge to know better. don't get me wrong, part of him definitely wants to spite mystra a lil. but his intentions at that time were mostly pure. a reflection of his self-hatred and feelings of inadequacy.
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player: this is wrong, gale. that power will corrupt you, even if you can seize it.
gale: it won't, i swear to you. it's merely a tool - a means to an end.
once we meet gale at the party in his new godlike form, it is apparent that even with all the power at his fingertips, he has reached no greater knowledge about himself. his insecurities are still as present as before, he merely is less subtle in his compensation - repeatedly highlighting his grandeur and how dull life on faerun is compared to the wonders of elysium. it is also genuinely crushing to see how little he thinks of himself even now.
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gale: i was nothing. a drifting dust mote of a wizard, abandoned by my goddess, my powers lost, my reputation destroyed. and look at me now. i'm their proof.
any perceived dismissal of his Greatness™ is met with immediate disdain.
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gale: a bold decision to treat a divine being with such cold indifference.
nodecontext: aloof, annoyed you weren't impressed with him
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gale: you mortals do love to live dangerously, don't you?
nodecontext: the slightest hint of a threat - you've probably made an enemy here today. or at least, you've lost a friend.
he is still desperate to impress. emphasizing what an honor it is that a new-born god chose to bless their little soiree with his presence. gaze upon all his divine glory! gale has now become the embodiment of everything he criticized about the gods. his original intentions and plans are discarded and long forgotten. he assuages his erstwhile companions by telling them to simply pray to him, in case they should ever require aid. if they're lucky and their ambition pleases him, he might even deliver.
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player: what does the 'god of ambition' offer to his followers?
gale: i 'offer' them nothing. i inspire them to seize their destinies for themselves.
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player: interesting, so you help mortals help themselves?
gale: precisely. though that isn't to say i'm averse to the odd bit of direct encouragement.
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gale: [..] my aims are set a little higher than offering cursory blessings to just any half-decent spellcaster.
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gale: regardless, ethical quandaries are more the remit of my mortal devotees. they do love to talk, and faerun is starting to listen.
aiding "any half-decent spellcaster" is unbefitting of his status. he isn't concerned with questions of ethics and morality either. deeming such matters beneath his divine capabilities.
once gale has ascended and established his domain, what remains of the gale we knew? what of his mortal heart?
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minthara: your ambition is not cruel, but you fear that if you indulge it, you will lose yourself in the mysteries of the weave and unravel the world.
minthara: you are afraid of so many things, and it is that fear that keeps you true to yourself.
gale did lose himself and ultimately became one of his biggest fears. considering that his existence as a being of pure ambition leads him to constantly seek out greater heights, it isn't farfetched to believe that raphael's prediction will indeed come true.
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player[astarion]: ambition? finally, a god i can get behind...
gale: i assure you, this is merely the prelude to a far grander vision. elysium's in for something of a shake-up.
all that remains of gale is a thin veneer of the person he used to be. what he presents is a hollow echo of the old gale. he does retain some of his mannerisms and quirks, but he is definitely a lot colder and more condescending. if his personality already changed that drastically after a duration of only 6 months, what will he inevitability turn into when he has eternity at his disposal?
essentially, you are aiding gale in the eradication of himself. eradicating everything about him that made him into the loveable, charismatic, awkward, kind, buoyant person he was. everything about him that he perceived as defective, flawed, and lesser-than. before, his hubris was merely an expression of his own discontentment and low self-worth, but now he is hubris incarnate. all of his worst qualities have been amplified.
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gale: i am ambition incarnate. as indistinguishable from that most potent sensation as mystra herself is from the weave. and word is spreading.
nodecontext: palpable, almost unsettling excitement from him - hint of megalomania
he put his trust in tav, trusting their judgment and relying on them to nudge him in the right direction. after all, they had plenty of opportunities to show him that they are an ally worth following and confiding in. but in the end, the prospect of what he could be, the things he could give them, the enemies he could yet conquer, won over the desire to simply accept him and help him rebuild a life on solid ground. tav denied him the unconditional love he craves most out of their own selfish desires.
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tara: you were looking out for him. i expected better of you.
as i've already mentioned, gale desires nothing more than to be seen, accepted, loved, and valued. having a partner who wholeheartedly supports and believes in him is enough to make him feel content. most importantly - he just wants to live. to enjoy life with everything it has to offer. his ambition can’t be quenched because he hungers still. believing that only by acquiring more power will he finally be enough and reach said acceptance.
we see in his good ending that his own contentment was even able to influence and (temporarily) sate the orb's ever-present hunger:
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gale: [..] or perhaps the orb's hunger was fuelled by my own, and my contentment influences it in much the same way.
gale: that's how i feel with you - content. it's a rather unfamiliar feeling, i must say. not something gale of waterdeep ever craved.
it is devastating that he doesn't reach the same feeling of fulfillment if he chooses to pursue godhood, and is instead compelled to continuously surpass his own accomplishments. not being granted rest or reprieve.
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gale: i achieved everything we hoped i would, and still i'm not good enough for you?
gale pursuing godhood isn't evidence that he "has been evil all along" or that he "just waited to be unleashed" either. we can't diminish tav's influence in this outcome, they are after all an extension of the player. able to steer every companion toward a path of redemption or to enable them in their worst traits. fandom has already established that by letting astarion ascend you are actively supporting him in becoming the very thing he despises most, putting your own ambitions and idea of what you want him to be above his healing, this is no different.
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tara: the gale i knew wasn't like this. he recognised his mistakes. he was contrite. all he wanted to do was live.
tara: unfortunately, he fell into company that turned his gaze towards foolishness. yes, i mean you.
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player: gale is his own man, tara.
tara: false. he was mine. though now he belongs only to his own pride.
yes, the epilogue cutscene is beautiful and there is something bittersweet and romantic about his love for tav being one of the few emotions that remained a constant throughout the past 6 months. he didn't need to come back for them, but he did cause he loves them still. no matter how warped his definition of love may be now. while it is abundantly clear that tav ranks lower on his priority list than they did before, his commitment remains.
gale fears isolation, hoping to never return to the time when he was hopeless and alone, stuck inside his tower. by heading in this direction he is once again creating a self-fulfilling prophecy.
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tara: [..] if i pretended you hadn't turned tail on every lesson you set out to learn, i'd have no right to call myself your friend.
morena may as well have already resigned herself to her son’s death. elminster partly blames himself. for his lapse in judgment, as well as being the one who plucked him from obscurity in the first place. mourning the kind, bright-eyed boy who cried at the scorched roses in his neighbor's garden. tara won't be here anymore to care and look out for him either. he has lost his oldest and dearest friend, the one who witnessed his downfall from grace and never left his side. who believed him to be the finest mind AND the finest wizard she's ever had the pleasure to know. who was certain that he’d find a way out of any crisis no matter the circumstances. ...and if tav declines his offer to ascend with him? what does he have left?
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gale: yes, i am rather radiant, aren't i?
tara: don't flatter yourself, gale. you've debased yourself in ways i could never have fathomed.
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tara: goodbye gale, i hope the heavens are worth it.
gale’s godhood ending deals with the loss of humanity, the loss of oneself, and everything one holds dear. it is a devastating and bone-chilling narrative. it is a tragedy.
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gale: i hope you don't think less of me. great ambition should not come at the expense of what you already hold dear. i see that now.
if gale could see himself, he would be horrified at the losses he deemed necessary to get here. he would be horrified at what he’s become.
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saerins · 1 year
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─── 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 4.7k | content: fluff (i promise), slight insecurities, comfort, 5 times he says yes and 1 time he says no
notes: ok ok so guys !! i know i’ve been posting angst recently so i offer you comfort sae !! <3 this man has my entire heart so i’m just gonna embrace it hehe may or may not have been thinking of ‘daylight’ when i wrote this .
summary: the way sae loves you is beautiful. it’s nothing like you envisioned and something you never knew you needed.
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“be my girlfriend, then, idiot.”
he’s handsome, seventeen.
even more handsome when he’s on the field, being the beast you know he is. he dribbles past everyone like they’re robots, like they’re snails. he gets into the penalty area and scores, and everyone in the stand cheers.
if there’s one common knowledge in your high school, it’s that itoshi sae is one of the world’s best soccer players.
maybe it’s no wonder that you’re holding a bag full of gifts for sae for valentines, being assistant manager for your school’s soccer team. it’s astounding how heavy this bag is. but you’ll know that in the end, whatever’s inside will likely get distributed between the entire team anyway, given how sae never accepts a single one.
“is it that time of the year again?” sae sighs, squirting water from his bottle into his mouth, towel hanging around his neck as he walks out of the locker room shirtless, fresh after a shower and hair all damp, sticking to the sides of his face.
still handsome.
“would it kill you to accept at least one of them?”
you expect one of his usual retorts—maybe a yes or a one of them could be poisonous. but instead, he grabs the bag from you, still frowning. “fine then,” he says, opening the bag and peering inside before he turns his gaze back onto you, “which one’s from you?”
the one with the purple post-it attached to sae’s favourite candy bar.
“i didn’t give you any, itoshi,” you lie, keeping your calm and crossing your arms. but sae cocks a brow because he doesn’t believe you. “really!”
“yeah, you sure about that?” sae’s tone takes a surprisingly gentle turn, and you find it hard to get used to. especially when it’s coupled with an amused expression.
“really, i’d die before giving anything to a grump like you.”
sae nods his head like he doesn’t believe you and starts rifling through the contents. he takes something out—a candy bar with a purple post-it attached to it. you can’t escape from him even if you tried.
“you’re the most irritating smart handsome guy i know, i hope you make it to the big leagues, i’ll never get tired of watching you play,” sae reads out loud, monotonously because it’s his way of mocking you. his gaze shifts from the note up to you, and he has his answer by your unwillingness to meet his eyes. “slick.”
“oh, shut up,” you tell him before turning on your heels and walking off.
“you want me so bad.”
“you wish, itoshi sae.”
“hey, take the rest of these away from me,” sae calls after you, referring to the big bag of valentines’ gifts you’d just left him with.
you turn around, walking backwards. “i’m not your girlfriend, itoshi, not my job!”
sae smirks. “be my girlfriend then, idiot.”
taken off guard, you fail to watch where you’re walking and fall over a broom, knocking several of the janitor’s stuff over. sae runs over, straight-faced while he holds his hand out to you.
“damn klutz,” he remarks as he pulls you up on your feet.
you’re thankful sae’s not the kind to make jokes like how he swept you off your feet, but the close proximity is making you giddy, in a good way, and you’re not sure you want to pass up on that.
“so?”
“so what, itoshi? and let me go,” you say, trying to pull away from him. he doesn’t let go though.
“say yes, then i’ll let go,” he tells you, and you can feel his breath fanning your lips and you’re sure he’s having a field day watching you get flustered.
“sure you want me, itoshi sae?” because a part of you finds that hard to believe, with the way he rejects other girls left and right and barely feels any remorse.
but what you don’t know is how different you are to him. if he dare say, special. maybe it’s the way you’ve always seemed like the stubborn kind, the kind of girl that refuses to ask for help but secretly wants to be protected. the kind of girl who can always help herself, but kill him if he thinks you’re someone who wouldn’t mind having someone to lean on.
maybe at some point, he started to want to be that person for you. no matter how many times you scream his name for not complying to schedules, no matter how many times you flip your hair against his face. you have everyone on the soccer team on a leash, and most of all sae.
that’s the first time he tells you—yes, he wants you.
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“not even if you bribe me.”
at nineteen, sae’s serious about you.
it’s no secret that he’s devoted—you can feel it. because sae isn’t the type to profess his love every day, no. he’s the kind that shows it through his actions, through the way he automatically carries your shopping for you, through the way he always takes your side in public, through the way he looks at you whenever you’re talking.
you have no doubt about it. it doesn’t even cross your mind that he might stray. yeah, you have your priorities, and he has his. you’ll go after them, and he’ll go after his—there’s no reason why you can’t chase your dreams in parallel.
your parents think otherwise, though.
like some rather typical parents do, they’re sceptical; sae can see it in their eyes. the way they furrow their brows whenever you invite him to chime in during dinner, the way they ask investigative questions—things about his past history that even you never asked him.
“mom!” you’re fed up with their interrogation tactics, shooting a warning glare at your parents.
your mom and dad look at each other in resignation before resuming to quietly eat their dinner. you’re reluctant to leave sae alone at the dinner table with your parents while you help to wash up, but sae tells you he’ll be fine. because he will.
they’re humans. they’re like you, just older and less prettier. why should sae be scared?
as expected, the moment you turn the tap on, your parents jump on him.
“you know, she really likes you,” your mom tells him. “i can’t say the same for you, though.”
sae’s never navigated around conversations with parents. he doesn’t know the first thing about this. he’s just keeping his fingers crossed he doesn’t fuck up.
“you look like someone who has a lot of girls, itoshi,” your father chimes in before sae can speak up. “you have a lot of girls on the side?”
he could not be more wrong.
“none, sir.”
why does this effort feel much more than necessary?
“why y/n?” your mother jumps in, and for the first time tonight, sae spots a genuine curiosity in her eyes.
not the best question to ask someone who doesn’t even remotely talk about their feelings. sae finds himself stumped, but your mother is, fortunately, a nice person deep down.
“just tell me this,” she leans forward, and your father seems to relax a little bit, sinking back against his chair. none of you realise the tap’s turned off. “do you love her?”
that’s… premature, if sae has any say in it. and he thinks it’s criminal that he’s telling your mother before he even tells you, but he knows that not admitting it would likely cause a rift between you and them—not something he wants.
making you miserable? no thank you.
so he nods, “yes, i do.”
“you realise that—”
“sir, let me put it this way: you can’t force me to stay away from her, not even if you bribe me.”
from the kitchen, you smile as you listen. looks like you had nothing to worry about after all.
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“they’re nothing compared to you.”
you love seeing sae living his dreams; love having front-row seats to his matches, love catching the fleeting glimpses he gives after he wins.
he’s twenty-one and thriving in the soccer scene, more than ever. world-famous and revered. the two of you are stronger than ever, still, because despite how sae looks, he’s much softer than people think.
when he’s running late from practice, he texts you the moment he can, tells you what’s up. when he has to cancel on you, he makes sure he makes it up to you. if he has soccer obligations on special occasions, he’ll let you know.
it’s funny thinking back to the days when you used to squabble with each other, to the days when everyone was tired of hearing you and sae argue.
not that that should be a problem now anymore—why? simple, because non-disclosure agreements are ass. but a highly recommended thing by his publicist; to protect his image, and then he told you not to take it personally because he’s asking all of sae’s close contacts to sign it too.
which didn’t take long.
it was mostly rin and his parents, and some other guys he used to know back in high school.
oh, and there’s you. apparently, you can’t divulge anything about being in a relationship with itoshi sae. so, as far as the world is concerned, he’s a bachelor.
“it’ll sell better,” was all the explanation his publicist offered.
sae had been against it, because why should he hide you from the world? and it’s stupid. but his publicist is smart, pointing out that you might get harassed online if his loyal fans find out. (to which sae begrudgingly agreed to, for the interim.)
it was fine, up to a point, but you’d never really considered how you’d feel seeing all these headlines of sae possibly being romantically linked with all these socialites and up-and-coming movie stars.
a part of you, the prideful part, is too stuck-up to ask your boyfriend for assurance. mainly because you think it’s stupid. sae constantly texts you when he’s not with you (as much as his schedule allows), and whenever he’s done for the day he goes back home and calls you if he can.
the other part of you, the lovestruck one, is afraid that maybe you can’t measure up to everyone else. that just maybe, you’re worlds apart and you’re not good enough.
usually you’d wait for sae to tell you he’s home, you’d let him rest his mind on the way back, but this time you’re impulsive and you’re dialing his number before you know it.
“hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, picking up after just two rings. even he knows you don’t usually initiate the calls.
“um,” you stutter because you don’t actually know how to tell him you’re calling to ask for assurance. despite having been together for four years, you realise that neither of you have actually sat down and talked about feelings.
“babe, talk to me,” sae urges you, and you can hear him getting off the bus. he must have just reached his apartment complex. he must’ve been tired from an entire day of intensive bootcamp and here you are, calling him with your trivial matters.
“it’s nothing, sae, forget it.”
“wait, what—”
you hang up before he can say anything and quickly text him.
i’m feeling a little sick tonight, just going to rest early.
sae leaves you on read and you think you’ve fended him off.
you did not.
an hour later, he’s at your door, carrying all your favorite convenience store snacks and a worried expression.
“what is it?” he asks you. you’re a little too stunned to speak. sae lets himself in, placing the snacks on your dining table before he really looks at you, surveying your face. “what were you crying about?”
you suddenly feel stupid for thinking your puffy eyes wouldn’t give you away.
sae tips your chin up when you try to look down. “y/n, tell me,” and he sounds only concerned, and the guilt builds up inside you.
so you tell him—you tell him about your intrusive thoughts as he lets you lay against his chest on the couch. you tell him about your insecurities as he sits in silence and listens. you tell him that you think it’s stupid of you to think this and you’re beginning to think you’re an ass for keeping him up so late when he has training tomorrow morning.
but sae doesn’t feel that. not one bit.
“it’s not stupid,” he tells you, and if you’d been able to see his expression, you’d know that he can never look at anyone the same way he looks at you. “all those girls you’re worried about, they’re nothing compared to you.”
“really?” you sniffle, appreciating the fact that even though he’s horrible at talking emotions, he’s trying his best for you.
sae pulls some hair away from your face and you pull back to get a good look at him. “really, stupid.” you laugh and he laughs, and now you’re really feeling stupid because there’s no way sae would ever choose anyone else over you. would never dream of having any other option.
“promise?”
sae sighs, in that lovingly way he does. “yes, i promise,” and he means it—he’s never thought of being with anyone else. “i love you, don’t i?”
you nod, chuckling because yes, yes he does. and yes, you know that more than anyone. even if it has to be kept under wraps for now; there’s no cause for concern.
when you fall asleep on his chest and sae’s too cautious to wake you up, your mother wakes up to take some water and stumbles upon the sight. she greets sae with a nod and a smile, the softest one he’s seen so far.
“my daughter has good taste.”
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“that’s a secret.”
sae’s only getting more and more famous as he gets older. a year later and he’s already garnering attention from everyone, with girls lining up to be a possible mrs itoshi.
you’re still unknown; hidden in the crevices, tucked between pieces of signed contracts. you’re dealing with it, it’s fine. it’s going great, only because you’ve learned to get used to it. it was either that or to call everything off, and you don’t want that.
it’s a friday night and sae’s away for another match, this time in london, and you’re watching post-game interviews on your screen while you finish your pack of chips.
they finally get to sae, throwing the normal obligatory questions like how he feels after winning the match, how he feels like being the man of the match. until they start asking personal questions like who he’d like to dedicate his win to.
he dodges the first few easily with vague answers. but then they get even more personal.
“so, itoshi, rumours have it that you’ve been in a long-term relationship now, is that true?”
you freeze up hearing the question, noticing how sae momentarily looks to the right before he rolls his eyes and turns back to the interviewer.
“maybe,” he answers, and you’re surprised. that’s the first time he’s probably not listened to his publicist.
“now who is this lucky lady?”
sae sighs, “that’s a secret.”
his interview ends there as he retreats back into the locker room, your phone vibrating almost immediately after.
one day i’m gonna show you off to everyone.
you smile as you type your response.
sure you want the whole world to know you belong to me?
you expect a retort about how it’s the other way around, but he does one better.
fuck yes.
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“you make me lose my goddamn mind.”
you’re both comfortable, twenty-three and lounging in sae’s apartment, curled up in the couch, fingers intertwined and spending a lazy sunday in.
it’s right smack in the middle of his break and you’ve got him to yourself for four entire months. it’s been good, so good.
everyday you’re reminded of why you love him, of why he’s yours. the way he pulls you back against him in the mornings when you wake up. the way he says your name when he’s sleepy, the raspiness in his voice known only to you.
“hey, i’m heading out for a while,” he tells you, slipping on his slides and unlocking the door.
that’s how it usually goes; you’re still not allowed to admit to your relationship, even if sae has hinted at being in a committed relationship. what his publicist considers as minimising risks is that both of you shouldn’t be seen out in public together. that’s why you’re having fun nights out at odd hours and being romantic in private.
sae often just leaves in the middle of the day, some alone time and maybe get some groceries since you can’t let yourself be seen leaving his apartment. it’s not an ideal situation, but you’ll take it. the last thing you want to do is make his life harder.
while he’s gone, you do the chores—make the bed, defrost some chicken breasts, vacuum, maybe wash the laundry. he’s doing his best to learn the right way to do chores (because one time when you asked him to help vacuum he ended up vacuuming the bathroom too), but you find it’s easier if you just do them instead.
usually he comes back by now, takes about a half an hour because his apartment is nestled in the centre of town, surrounded by all the stores and amenities he could need. but you stare at the clock.
it’s been an hour and a half, what’s he up to?
sae doesn’t even respond when you text him. right as you’re about to call him, worried, you hear his keys jangling and the door opening.
you expected to find him carrying a huge bag of groceries with the amount of time he was gone, but he’s empty-handed and you’re starting to think maybe he was hounded by paparazzi.
“did you have trouble with some press?” you ask innocently, mop in your hand.
sae sighs, “fuck no, thank god.” he toes off his slides and tosses his keys on the dining table, taking his cap off and tousling his hair. his pretty pretty reddish brown locks.
“oh, then where’d you go?”
sae smirks at you this time, hiding something behind his back.
“what’re you up to, itoshi?”
he rolls his eyes because you only call him that when you’re afraid. “relax, baby,” he coos, inching closer to you and revealing what he’s holding.
sae’s holding up your keychain; a mini figurine of sae you got from one of the gift shops during his match. but you spot something that wasn’t there before—a key, painted black like the door to his apartment.
“sae?”
“this key’s yours.”
you blink at him, a little stupefied. “sae, did you get lost while trying to find the key copy place?”
sae clicks his tongue, annoyed. “shut up, do you want this or not?” by the way he’s all red, he did get lost.
you take the key from him, suppressing a grin. “aw thanks, now i can let myself in.”
sae sighs again, “i’m asking you to move in, stupid.”
“y-you want me to move in here?”
“yes.”
“like, you want to see my face everytime you wake up and before you go to bed?”
“yeah.”
“you want me to live here with you, together?”
“yes and if you ask anymore i’ll take it back.” because sae’s aware that you’re asking out of disbelief—he loves his alone time yet here he is, asking you to be with him whenever he’s back home. which isn’t that hard to believe for him; you’re the only one he’d ever want to be alone together with.
you giggle, “okay okay, roomie.”
sae only sighs. “you make me lose my goddamn mind.”
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“i don’t want this anymore.”
it’s your fault, it’s all your fault.
sae’s publicist is at the house, screaming at the top of his lungs, and by sae’s unamused expression, he’s not having it. he’s just controlling himself so he doesn’t end up getting a lawsuit filed against him for employee abuse.
“who thinks it’s safe to go out wearing their boyfriend’s jersey, which isn’t even for sale yet by the way,” he rants, staring straight at you, “and go down and buy a birthday cake on his birthday and take it up to his apartment, all while knowing that the press is gonna be camping outside the complex?”
he makes you feel stupid.
sae steps in front of you, his broad shoulders the only thing making you feel safe from his publicist’s constant attack. “you yell at my girl one more time and you’re done,” sae threatens, managing to get his publicist to storm out of the house.
apparently, sae had a big endorsement deal all planned with the one stipulation being that he had to appear a bachelor up until the stunt was over. and now his publicist’s mad because that’s all down the drain and his commissions are gone.
“hey, you okay?” sae asks you, gently, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.
you’re fine, you’ll get over it. it’s just what his publicist said that gets in your head.
it’s like you’re trying to ruin his deals.
being with a famous pro player comes with some form of caution, you know that right?
she’s just in the fucking way!
weeks pass and it’s not easier to drown out the voices. sae’s good at it, so he’s already moved past it, resumes work as per usual, assumes you’re okay too because of the multitude of times you insisted that you are.
but really? it’s fucking difficult.
if you thought you were insecure before everyone knew about you, it’s ten times worse now. while the majority of people are nice about it, saying wonderful stuff like how the two of you are so sweet and look so good together, there’s still so many people who shit on you.
wait, i thought he was with that model from that one shoot? damn, he got the short end of the stick with his gf lol
lmaooo what a downgrade from that other soccer star he was dating
@itosae you okay, dude? you blind or something?
there’s a lot more than that. a lot. some of them even found your account, messaged you directly and said some less-than-nice things.
you keep it all from sae, though. the last thing you need to do is distract him any further, especially when he has the champions’ league coming up.
“i’m fine, mom,” you say one night when your mother calls to check up on you. “i promise.”
you’re a bad daughter, keeping these from your mother who’s just concerned. she isn’t convinced, but she hangs up anyway afterwards, telling you to rest.
it’s easy for things to spiral when you keep them all to yourself. the voices in your head that belongs to sae’s disgruntled fans growing louder, drowning out the words of affection sae tells you everyday.
until one day you think you can’t take it anymore.
they’re all telling you that you’re not good enough, that you’re just a burden. his publicist is nowhere near your side, instead silently siding with the fans who berate you. sae’s oblivious to it all, you think, because he doesn’t do anything about it.
one day you’re just sitting side by side, watching a movie, sae’s arm around your shoulders, his fingers idly twirling your hair.
“sae, we need to talk.”
like the lover he is, he pauses the movie, adjusting himself to look at you. “yeah, what is it?” he’s smiling at you because he has no idea what’s coming.
and you know, you know if you tell him what you really think that it won’t work, so you put on your best game face. truth be told, you’d been building up to this moment anyway, purposely telling him you’d be busy whenever he’s back from his games just so you won’t spend time together. it was all to give him the illusion that you just weren’t interested anymore, no matter how fucked up that sounds.
“i don’t want this anymore.”
sae furrows his brows. “what? what’s this?”
you sigh, feigning frustration. “this, sae. us. i don’t want this anymore.”
“why not?”
“because i’m tired. i’m tired of dating someone who’s half here and half not, i’m tired of tolerating your stupid habits, i’m tired of being with you, sae.” you’re raising your voice, but sae doesn’t flinch. his expression doesn’t even change. you’re beginning to think you broke him, made him malfunction.
when sae doesn’t say anything, you continue.
“i want to break up.”
sae looks away from you, at the patch of rug on the floor beside him, jaw clenched. he blinks a few times before he looks back at you.
“no.”
now it’s your turn to be confused. “w-what?”
sae tilts his head to the side, concern etched in his expression. “i said no, y/n,” he repeats, sighing. he puts his forefinger under your chin, his thumb caressing the side of your face. “who are you trying to fool?”
“i-i mean what i said, sae.”
you’re in disbelief. you hate how he knows you better than anyone else, maybe better than yourself, and you’re beginning to realise no one can come close to sae for you.
“so you don’t love me anymore? don’t wanna be my girl anymore?” he asks, but it’s redundant because he knows the answers. “i love you, okay? and i’d be a shit boyfriend if i let you go like this.”
you’re speechless, so you don’t say a thing, just sit awkwardly in front of him while for the first time in his life, he resolves to being there for you.
“look, i don’t know what mean things people are saying online, but fuck them,” he tells you.
“sae, it’s not easy,” you sniffle.
“then talk to me, and stop shutting me out, you idiot,” he chastises, and you find yourself falling onto him. “i fired my publicist too, by the way. couldn’t stand him spouting shit about you even after i told him to shut the fuck up.”
you laugh at his exasperation, your chest somehow feeling lighter.
“and, do me a favor? ignore the mean comments, yeah?” sae tells you, softer this time. “i kinda don’t ever wanna lose you, so.” he has his head resting on top of yours, your fingers intertwined and your heart soaring.
until now, you’d thought it’d be easy to drive sae away. you thought if you’d been enough of a nuisance, an eyesore, that he’d just take your word for it and run, that he’d throw a fit and let you leave.
but he doesn’t.
sae stays. and he tells you to stay. because he doesn’t know much about laundry, or how to handle feelings, but what he knows is how to love you. he knows what you need and he knows what you’re thinking, even if he doesn’t necessarily tell you about it.
and sae is a bitch to the world. he’s not the friendliest to fans nor does he care about making friends or enemies.
but to you, he’s everything. he says no to either of you straying and he says yes to whatever you ask except when it doesn’t make sense and you never knew that this was the beauty of being with someone who wants you—in every sense of the word.
there’s a certain threshold to pass before you can see everything clearly. suddenly it’s like the mean voices are faded into the background, and suddenly sae’s love is all you hear, and nothing is blurred because now all you can think about is how even if the world fails you, sae never will.
“hey, sae?”
“mhm?”
“thank you.”
he smiles against your head and you can feel it. “i love you, stupid.”
and you love him; recognising your handwriting and sweeping you off your feet. you love him; braving your parents, living his dreams. you love him; protecting you and showing up at your door. you love him; bashful yearning and unwavering emotions.
so you kiss him in response, and that’s all he needs to know that you’re with him for life.
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judithhhh · 3 months
Text
tied (one-shot)
jude x reader
summary : in which you can't get away from your ex, jude, not even at your new job miles away from him
( 2.2k words! )
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working for real madrid was something you had wished to do since you had been a little girl. you never thought it would happen but eventually it did. you had the chance to work as a physiotherapist for the biggest club in the world at just twenty years old. it was a dream come true but obviously he had to ruin it. your ex just had to transfer to the club the same season you started working in it. you knew jude didn't do it on purpose, he wasn't even aware of your new job. but when you saw the tons of posts on your instagram feed, displaying the boy in the white colored jersey, you felt your insides boiling. no matter where you went, how many kilometers you traveled away from him, jude would always be a part of your life.
arriving on the training grounds, you greeted the other members of the staff and lucia, a coworker you had met a few days ago, helped you settle in. you spent the day sorting papers on your desk and getting familiar with the new surroundings. when the time came to wrap up your things for the day, you felt content, not only were you already comfortable with your colleagues and new responsibilities but you also managed to avoid jude for an entire day. you had caught sight of him a few times but you were far away enough for him to not notice. your mind still reminded you that it was bound to happen soon, that you would have to face the man at any moment.
it wasn't like your relationship with jude ended on bad terms, it was just tiring. your actual relationship with him lasted for one year but for two entire years after that you two could not leave one another alone. you saw each other multiple times a week but every time you started to believe that it was more than just ‘’seeing each other’’ and that you could finally get back together, jude proved you wrong. it wasn't like you were any better than him, you also found comfort in the back and forth, but jude enjoyed all of it. he found pleasure in getting your hopes up just to crush them with a simple action, all of that knowing that you would find your way back into his bed anyways. it was a few months before the end of the 22-23 season that you decided it was enough and moved back to england. you cut contact with everyone, choosing to block jude first, and focus solely on your career. you haven't heard from the footballer since your last conversation, one that stayed in your mind since then. you could still replay what was said perfectly.
‘’aren't you tired of this jude?’’ you had told him one night, laying on your bed while he got dressed
‘’of what?’’
‘’stop acting clueless you know exactly what im talking about’’
‘’then no i’m not tired’’
‘’you don't ever wish we could just be a normal couple’’
‘’we already tried that and it didn’t work, clearly you're not made for me’’
he had left your house without saying anything else, leaving you crying in the bed. it wasn’t rare for jude to stay stuff like this but it still hurt. you shaked the memory of your mind and left work. you decided to walk home instead of taking the bus, giving you the opportunity to enjoy the cold but still enjoyable temperature of the early october weeks. getting back into your apartment, you hurriedly took a shower before crashing into your bed.
when you woke up the day after, you were full of excitement and apprehension. today, you would start working with the players and that both meant helping footballers you spent years adoring and facing the one man you were running away from. as you got in the shower, you begged the world to not make you encounter jude today. your wish was granted for the majority of the day, you met a few players like modric and nacho and helped them with minor pain from training. obviously, your luck couldn't last all day and as you went to pick up your lunch, you heard a familiar voice behind your back. you froze, scared that he had talked to you but calmed yourself down when you realized he was actually having a conversation with his teammates. you tried to be as discreet as possible while still actively listening to what they were saying. you felt your stomach tightened every time you heard jude talking, you may have heard his voice in interviews but it was way different hearing him when he stood just a few feet behind you.
‘’bro my ankle fucking hurts because of you’’ you heard jude say
‘’i didn’t even push you that hard man’’ one of his teammates responded
‘’getting injured before a big game is not good jude, you should go see the physiotherapists’’
‘’there's a new one too, luka told me she was really good’’
guessing that luka was probably modric, you felt proud that such a legend said you were good at this job but the feeling of proudness was quickly washed away by the realization that jude was going to come see you after lunch. you turned to the left and still with the most discretion you could have, you ran back to the physio’s local. all lunch, your mind raced as you tried to think of an idea to avoid him. you knew he was bound to notice you but you didn't think it was going to happen so soon. you sighed when you saw lucia, your coworker and now friend, come into the local.
‘’lucia, i have a favor to ask you’’
‘’of course, whats up’’
‘’i heard that bellingham is probably going to come get treated here after lunch, and i'm quite stressed, i already saw quite a lot of players today, i don't know if i can do well with him too. could you take him instead of me?’’
lucia, being the good person that she is, refused to take jude and told you that she was certain you could treat him and that you had performed excellently with the first players so there was no reason you could not do the same thing with him. obviously there was a reason but you couldn't tell that to lucia, leaving you with no choice but to face your ex. for the next thirty minutes, you kept anxiously glancing at the door, wondering when he would come in. the fact that all the other physiotherapists had left to do other things did not make you feel any less stressed at all. you jumped when the glass door opened and lifted up your head to see jude enter the room. you saw his whole demeanor shift when he recognized you. choosing to avoid confrontation, you switched to your professional side before he could ask you anything. you hurried the conversation, interrupting him everytime he wanted to address the clear elephant in the room. you prescribed him a few pain meds, told him to lay off training tomorrow and to put on some ice before turning away from him hoping that he would dismiss himself. you faced your desk too scared to see if he was still behind but a presence coming closer to your body indicated to you that he wasn’t planning on leaving without talking to you.
‘’you’re gonna keep pretending that you don’t know me or are you gonna be mature’’
‘’don’t talk to me about being mature’’ you scoffed
‘’what’s that supposed to mean?’’
you were about to give him a piece of your mind but decided against it, not wanting to fight at your workplace.
‘’nothing jude just go’’
he didn't leave instead letting his eyes scan your face and scan your features that he had missed so much. he hadn't seen you anywhere, not even on social media, in the past months and you looked so much different. you looked healthier and he noted the clear difference in your eyes, they lacked the hint of desperation and sadness they always had when you two were on and off. he debated for a second if he should just go and leave you alone for good but he knew that he could never resist being close to you especially if you were going to be working around him from now on.
‘’why did you leave without saying anything’’ he asked softly
‘’what was the point of staying, you said it yourself i'm not made for you’’
‘’you know i didn't mean that’’ he sighed
‘’you seemed pretty sure of yourself though’’
lucia entered the room at this moment, forcing jude to swallow back his excuses. he muttered a quiet goodbye that you responded to for the sake of professionalism and left the room. you felt the pressure leaving your shoulders and absentmindedly answered your coworker’s questions, assuring her that everything went well.
it wasn't until one week after your first encounter that you came face to face with jude again. you had successfully avoided him and you suspected he stopped trying to find you after a few days, he was never the one to put in efforts after all. you bumped into him at the cafeteria, he was accompanied by brahim and arda making you think that he would just ignore you but instead he excused himself to his teammates before dragging you out of the cafeteria. you protested but the firm grip he had on your shoulder forced you to keep walking. he led you to a secluded bathroom and closed the door before leaning against the sink, looking at you without uttering a word. his intense gaze would have had you on your knees a few months ago but you had gained a lot of self-respect since then.
‘’you brought me there and you’re not gonna say shit?’’
"let me get a good look at you baby, it's been so long"
"don't call me that"
even though you stood up to the man, you were still feeling giddy inside. you felt yourself sinking deeper into the comfort jude brought you and you knew that a few sweet words from him and you would be back into his arms. jude took one of your hand and pulled you closer to him, your body practically standing between his part legs. you huffed and shot daggers at him.
"you're not even trying to talk to me, you just wanna get in my pants jude"
"that's not true. i missed you close to me that's all."
you didn't say anything back waiting for him to continue and give you at least some sort of apology.
" i'm sorry for what i said before you left, i didn't mean it. you're the one for me i've always known that. we're both just so difficult sometimes"
"both? nah just you" you responded arching an eyebrow
"no both of us baby"
you kept your gaze on the ground, thinking about it all. were you still the kind of girl who ran back to her ex after an half-assed apology? maybe you were, or maybe you were going to make him work for it a bit more. you didn't have any time to make your choice as jude continued his apology.
"we're both difficult yeah but i know i'm the reason we never got back together. you left because of that and when i saw you here in madrid, i swear i was going to leave you alone. but i just can't baby. i tried but i'm like a moth to a fucking flame"
as he talked, he moved your bodies closer and closer to eachother. he didn't even seem to notice his moments, like this was something way too natural to him. your chests were pressed together and he took one of your hands in his bringing it to his mouth, kissing it.
"how am i supposed to believe you're not only saying empty words"
"why would i say all of this? just to fool you?"
you didn't need to think about it anymore. you may had tried to get away from jude but you could never resist him for long. you and him were tied to each other.
you brought your hands to his chest, gripping his shirt to bring his face closer to yours. you looked into his eyes searching for anything that might tell you that he wasn't honest but you were only met with an amount of love you never knew he could even have for you. jude closed the gap between the two of you and kissed you dumb. you had missed his lips and you never wanted to part from them again but the door of the bathroom opening forced you apart. you glanced to the left to see a member of the staff, that you didn't recognize thankfully, and stepped away from jude. the guy who entered the room excused himself and left the two of you alone.
"bad timing i guess" jude said, letting out a chuckle
you kissed him again, this time not for long before parting away from him. you barely moved away from jude, keeping your foreheads almost touching. he had his eyes closed, letting you admire his long lashes and pretty lips.
"promise it won't be like it was in dortmund " you whispered, not wanting to break the quiet atmosphere you basked in.
"mmh"
"tell me jude"
he opened his eyes, a smile appearing on his face as he took in your features. his hands stroked your cheek and you smiled, not used to such sweetness from him.
"i promise you my love, it'll be different"
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me 🤝 spending all day writing fanfics when i stay home from school
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rolanpilled · 5 months
Text
Why I Fell In Love With Rolan, A Character Analysis
I will be going through Rolan's lines, along with the devnotes, to try and explain my interpretation of his character.
This is coming from having spent 30+ hours combing through his dialogues, reading all of his books, listening to every voice line for context, and replaying every scene of his that's currently accessible.
TW: Mentions of abuse, family death, implied suicide
Very long post under cut. Get the Arabellan Dry out!
A few notes before getting into this:
In the game files, Rolan is referred to as "Prodigy", while Cal and Lia are referred to as "ProdigyBrother" and "ProdigySister".
Rolan is a character whose outer words and inner thoughts often do not align - for most of the game, he refuses to show vulnerability in front of Tav, reserving his softness for his siblings. This can be interpreted in a number of ways, ranging from a self-confidence issue to an avoidant attachment style. Though people are free to have their own interpretations, I will mainly be focusing on my own readings of his personality.
I am not a psychologist or a licensed health professional, but I have personal experiences with the mental health disorders I will reference in this post, and I have done a lot of research on the topics involved.
Part 1 - Elturel, and Rolan's past
"Rolan. Just... Rolan."
There isn't much you can tell about Rolan's life except that he's from Elturel and that Cal and Lia are his siblings - after all, he doesn't give you much info in the first place. He doesn't know you, he doesn't trust you. Why would he?
The information you get about his family and his life before BG3 come from minor dialogues, and using Speak With Dead on his corpse. The picture they paint isn't a happy one.
[Player: What's your name?]
[Rolan: Rolan. Just... Rolan.]
[Player: Do you have any family?]
[Rolan: No... family... no one.]
[Player: No family? What about Lia and Cal?]
[Rolan: They are... brother and sister. Cal says... I am family, but...]
Rolan doesn't have a family name. We don't know if Lia and Cal do, but it can be assumed they don't, else he might have taken theirs. The first thing that sticks out to me in this dialogue is that he doesn't consider himself to have a family, even though Cal and Lia say he's part of theirs.
The question is, what could have caused this? If his blood family was simply dead, wouldn't he refer to them as "dead" or "gone"? Instead he says he has "no one" and "no family", perhaps implying that his parents just... abandoned him. Either way, it gives the impression that he has issues with being abandoned, and may project a sense of toughness and arrogance to make up for his insecurity.
And there IS insecurity here - he outright says that Cal and Lia tell him that he's no different from family to them, but deep down, he doesn't seem to be able to accept it. That he can only reveal this information to you after death, having been so guarded in life, is heartbreaking.
As for his life in Elturel, not much is said, but a lot can be inferred from his attitude.
[Cal: Elturel was the last time the three of us talked like this. Let's hope it lasts until Baldur's Gate.]
After leaving Elturel, it appears Rolan, Cal, and Lia didn't have much time to talk. This is from the party scene - a scene where they're drinking, laughing, and joking amongst each other. Clearly the journey hasn't been the easiest for all of them, though one thing we can take from this dialogue is that they've had this friendly, sibling-like relationship for a long time.
From what we know of Elturel and the Descent, things were NOT pretty down in Avernus. Many people died, and after the city was returned to the surface, tieflings were driven out of the city, as we all know. Something important to think about is how exactly this might have gone for the three siblings: how exactly they ended up in the Grove, travelling with the refugees. The context seems to imply that the siblings were travelling on their own, not necessarily considered a part of the group, but this is debatable and not entirely clear.
So what brought them to Baldur's Gate? What finally drove them out of the city? Did they leave before things got worse, or were they driven from their homes with stones and violence? It could really be anything, but the one thing that's clear is that their primary reason for heading to Baldur's Gate is for Rolan to start his apprenticeship with Lorroakan.
We know that Rolan wrote Lorroakan a letter: multiple letters, actually. We're not sure if he wrote to other wizards, but from his dialogue, you can tell that Lorroakan's been someone he's respected for a long time, both for his magical skills and his political beliefs. Though he's never met Lorroakan, you can find a copy of Lorroakan's biography on his desk at Sorcerous Sundries - there's an admiration established early on, and the player is led to believe that Lorroakan is a powerful wizard (though if you bring Gale with you, he comments on Lorroakan's shady reputation, hinting at something darker beneath the surface).
What could have driven Rolan to write so far away, seeking apprenticeship? Was it out of a sense of desperation, wanting to leave the city but needing a way to take care of his siblings? Was it curiosity? A sense that Lorroakan might be his last chance to make something of himself after being denied what he felt like was his rightful destiny? As a tiefling, he must have faced some discrimination for his heritage - I can speak to my own experience here, growing up as a person of color in a majority-white community was genuinely traumatizing to myself and my non-white friends. Not only do we receive open bullying and ostracization for our appearance, there's something even more insidious that often happens to minority populations - neglect. A general disinterest in our accomplishments, a lack of encouragement and attention towards kids that don't fit the norm. If this was something Rolan had to experience, it's no wonder he felt angry and eager to prove himself. He's been neglected his all his life, and he finally has a chance to show everyone who doubted him that he really does have the potential to be a great wizard.
Rolan himself appears to be in his mid- to late- twenties, bringing up the question of what he's been doing his entire life if not magic. It's mentioned that he was able to conjure a flaming cat from when Cal was as young as 8, so depending on the age difference between the siblings, Rolan might have known magic from a very early age. So why, then, is he a mere wizard apprentice at the start of the game? He's surely had a lot of time to learn himself.
[Lia: Try not to get too close, Cal.]
[Rolan: Yes. Remember what happened last time?]
[Cal: I was eight and you magicked up a kitten. How was I supposed to know it was made of fire?]
What could have happened along the way? He might have just not found the time or the opportunity to be able to study, especially as a tiefling without a family or the money to pay for an education. In my interpretation, Rolan carries a lot of unvoiced shame for not having been able to "fulfill his destiny" until now. He projects an outward mask of confidence and arrogance to hide his vulnerability, his insecurities - that his family isn't really his family, and that he isn't really destined for greatness. His natural reaction to vulnerability is anger and denial, which we'll explore more in the later sections.
(It is mentioned in the devnotes, though, that Rolan "has truly worked his ass off to get here". Prodigy is not an ironic title - he's likely had to self-study to the point where Lorroakan felt that he had potential. He has a right to be confident, but it doesn't negate any potential feelings of unworthiness.)
Additional info - Rolan, Cal, and Lia, on top of having known each other since Cal was 8, also share a mother figure, who is deceased. There is no mention of a father. It could be that this was Lia and Cal's actual mother, who took Rolan in, or a number of other possibilities - it could be that ROLAN'S mother took the three in, or that she just happened to be an unrelated woman who adopted three orphans.
[Cal: We should have a little party when we reach the city, like we did for mum.]
[Rolan: That 'little party' lasted from sundown to sunrise. Lia would like that.]
This dialogue can only be accessed if Lia dies but Cal and Rolan live.
So we've set up a few key details about Rolan's personality: his arrogance may harbor hints of insecurity or desperation, he has issues with feeling abandoned or neglected, and he's potentially been denied his chance to learn magic in the past. We will explore these in detail in the next few sections, along with another troubling tendency of his - perfectionism, and the self-blame that comes with it.
Part 2 - The Grove
"I'll not gamble our lives, our futures, for people who are as good as dead."
If you recall his dialogue in the grove, Rolan seems to distance himself from the other refugees, focusing only on the safety of his siblings. Let's unpack this in his own words -
[Rolan: This isn't Elturel and I'm not responsible for every damn tiefling in the world!]
[Rolan: I made no such oath, and I will not be held responsible for these people.]
This is in contrast to Lia, who believes that they should help what she considered to be their 'kin'. Remember that Rolan often refers to the refugees in a detached way, refusing to associate himself with them.
At a first glance, it might seem like Rolan is fixated on his apprenticeship - he wants to get to Baldur's Gate straight away, so he can begin studying under Lorroakan. Lia accuses him of the same, causing Rolan to react with anger.
But if you think about what Rolan's underlying motivations might be, you might have realized something that Cal and Lia most likely recognized too - he's worried for his siblings' safety.
The grove is an open, unprotected area, and they're being menaced by druids on one side, goblins on the other. There's only a few fighters, Rolan, Cal and Lia among them, and none of them are strong enough to take on either group. Even if Rolan feels a sort of kinship with the other tieflings - which I'll expand on in a second - he prioritizes the lives of his siblings over them, and doesn't want them to sacrifice themselves for people he doesn't even know.
Now, the other theory - what if Rolan doesn't identify with the other tieflings, because he's been cast out by them before?
I'm going to inject my personal experience as an immigrant here. Life as an immigrant can be profoundly isolating, especially if you have few relatives in the area. Rolan may have been so attached to Cal and Lia because they took him in when his own people rejected him - for some reason, even other tieflings could have seen him as an "outsider", and refused to help him when his parents abandoned him or died. If you tie in the theory that he was a tiefling born to human parents (which would be taboo), it could have been that they rejected him for not "being tiefling enough". I'm aware that in-universe there's no one unified "culture" of tieflings, but even in groups without a unified culture, there are still small pockets of people with certain internal customs. It could be that Rolan failed to fit in due to his heritage, that he was rejected for his personality, or some other reason, but my interpretation for his refusal to help fellow tieflings is that he never quite felt the same kinship for them that Cal and Lia did. It could also be that he holds resentment towards them for abandoning him - abandonment seems to be a central theme in Rolan's story, and likely contributes to his feelings of inferiority and unworthiness.
(He does seem to know Infernal, though I don't know whether that's a cultural thing or an innate trait to tieflings.)
If the fight is held at the grove, Rolan, Cal, and Lia stand near the back of the cave to protect the children. They can be found arguing with each other on potential battle positions. Afterwards, if the tieflings and all three of the siblings survive, they can be found by the entrance of the cave, where Rolan again behaves arrogantly towards you and claims he could have handled the goblins on his own.
All of this is quite standard for his character and projects the image of an arrogant, selfish person who only seeks to protect himself and the people that matter to him, which is likely what he wants. It also lends some credibility to the interpretation where he was rejected by other refugees - if he felt neutral towards other tieflings, it might have made more sense if he was less derisive towards them. Instead, he consistently detaches himself from his people, drawing clear lines between them, with a hint of bitterness that seems to have a painful origin.
The rest of Act 1 is Rolan acting like his standard self - bratty, arrogant, and dismissive of others. That is how most of us met him, though he won't stay that way for long.
Part 3 - Moonrise
"But what good am I if I can't do this... this one thing?"
(Author's note: "This one thing" is travelling alone through a cursed, necrotic land, breaking into a prison staffed with dozens of trained guards, and personally facing an immortal chosen of the literal god of death. Rolan is a Level 4 wizard.)
As you already know, at the start of Act 2 Rolan is drinking himself to death alone. His brother and sister have been dragged away screaming by the cultists, and he's overwhelmed at the thought of never seeing them again. Naturally, he's quite angry with you, but if you read his lines closely, you can see that you're not the only person he's angry at.
[Rolan: Gods damn it all. I can do nothing right - not a damn thing!] [Devnote: Furious - mainly with himself]
[Player: You're supposed to be at Last Light.]
[Rolan: I'm supposed to be saving Cal and Lia!] [Devnote: Frantic, worried for his siblings]
[Rolan: Instead, I found myself cornered by shadow-fiends and in need of rescue. From you, of all bloody people.] [Devnote: Pissed off and taking it out on the player]
[Player: You were trying to help your family - you're too hard on yourself.]
[Rolan: Or not hard enough.]
[Rolan: I've failed Cal and Lia, again. Be on your way - I'll return to Last Light... I know when I'm outmatched.]
Rolan is someone who feels deeply responsible for the safety of his siblings (this lends credence to the idea that he's the eldest of the three). He may argue and bicker with them, but he could never abandon then, nor could he forgive himself if something were to happen to them. He is clearly carrying an unbearable amount of grief and guilt for allowing his siblings to be captured, but he's so emotionally repressed that he chooses to bury his sorrow under a mound of anger. Being drunk doesn't help - it's mentioned by one of the kids, Ide, that he's been through three bottles of wine by the time the player reaches the Shadow-Cursed Lands.
That much is obvious just from reading his lines, but his angry reaction to the player is, as the devnotes say, a way of taking out his pain and frustration on other people. He might feel guilty about it later, but in the moment, it's the only way he knows how to cope with them. This isn't his only instance of externalizing his self-hatred.
If Cal dies and Lia lives, the player has the option to break up an argument between Lia and Rolan. If they fail to neutralize the situation, Rolan will tell Lia (or Cal, depending on who lives) to get out of his sight permanently.
[Rolan: You deserve nothing. You two are cowardly parasites, and I am disgusted it took me this long to see. Get out of my sight.] [Devnote: Furious in his grief, lashing out, being as hurtful as he can to his surviving sibling]
[Lia: Fuck you, Rolan!]
-
[Lia: Insufferable, arrogant little prick. Argh.]
[Lia: Everything is about him, everything is about his pain. Godsdamnit, Rolan!]
It says a lot to me that if one of his siblings dies, that he has to be convinced out of lashing out at his surviving one. He seems to be like a person who deals with strong emotions by lashing out, likely as a defense mechanism to make himself appear stronger than he feels. This is a common technique used by people with self-esteem issues - to avoid drawing attention to their own vulnerability, they lash out and externalize their feelings with anger to bury the grief. Lia says as much in this ending - to Rolan, everything is about his pain, and he's managing it in the only way he knows how. He knows he's hurting his siblings, he knows it's wrong, but he engages in it anyway, a common trait of people who dislike themselves. If Rolan didn't have his apprenticeship, it wouldn't be a stretch to say that the death of his siblings might have caused him to spiral and give up on life altogether.
Interestingly enough, in the end where both Rolan and one of his siblings die, it's implied that the remaining sibling commits suicide. You can read more about it here - it gives some insight into Rolan's motivations, and serves to emphasize exactly how much this apprenticeship means to him. Rolan lives for two things, though it really just is one thing - his siblings, and his apprenticeship, which means more to him because it represents a hopeful future for his siblings. Every clue in the game points to his siblings being everything to him.
But let's move away from this bad ending for one second, and back to where we are. Rolan's been drinking himself silly, yelling at children, and eventually storms out into the SCL by himself. Being an apprentice wizard, few expect him to survive on his own, and true to form, he has to be rescued by the player again.
Though I think this line is currently bugged and unavailable, he actually has lines reacting to the shadows.
[Rolan: My magic is not to be trifled with - leave or die!] [Devnote: Exhausted and scared, but trying not to sound it]
Rolan, emotionally repressed fool he is, is once again attempting to appear big in order to protect himself from what he fears. Whether it's the shadows, or the loss of his siblings, he reacts to stressful situations with a brave front, attempting to push people away so they won't see him at his worst state.
This is one of the common symptoms of an avoidant attachment disorder - an attachment style that causes people to push others away if they get too close, avoiding emotional closeness and being uncomfortable expressing vulnerability to others. I interpret Rolan as having this kind of attachment style, which is often formed from neglect or abuse as a child, resulting in a self-sufficient but emotionally cold person. It can lead to the breakdowns of close relationships, as evidenced by Rolan pushing away his surviving sibling (potentially in order to save himself the grief of having to go through their death again). People with this disorder often cut off people before they can be cut off, in order to save themselves the pain of being abandoned again.
Some recognize the negative impact of their behaviors more than most, and though Rolan never comments on it, it can be inferred that he feels some measure of guilt for the way he behaves. If convinced to lay off of his surviving sibling, he immediately apologizes, recognizing his mistake.
[Cal: Do you wish it was me who died? Instead of Lia?]
[Rolan: Gods no, that's not what I meant. Never, Cal. Never!] [Devnote: Realizes what he's just said. Backtracking, apologizing, sincere]
[Rolan: Shit. I'm sorry.] [Devnote: Disgusted with himself and what he's just said. Looking away, sincere apology]
[Cal: Me too.]
We can see here that Rolan IS capable of self-reflection and guilt - it just takes more than a nudge to get it out of him. He says as much if you manage to rescue both siblings, thanking you and apologizing for his behavior - not an empty apology, or made out of necessity, but a genuine, heartfelt admission of guilt and gratitude. This kind of mature response from him says a lot about his character, and hints at a capacity for further growth in Act 3.
As Cal says, Rolan can be stubborn, but he's never malicious. I see this as an indicator of the immense guilt he holds inside him - though he externalizes his rage towards anyone and everyone, deep down, the person he blames the most is himself.
Which leads me directly into a talk about perfectionism, one of Rolan's defining character traits.
Rolan, at his core, is a perfectionist. The feelings of failure for not being able to save his siblings, the arrogance that belies a certain type of self-hatred, and a willingness to attack others in order to deflect from his own vulnerability - all of these traits tie heavily into perfectionism, which Rolan consistently displays traits of. At the start of the game, he spends every line with the player bragging about how he and Lorroakan are going to become household names, how they will boast of this meeting to others. To an extent, I'm sure he believes it. He's just been invited to what he considers to be a prestigious apprenticeship, despite everyone having considered him a failure. Naturally, he's excited despite the trauma of Elturel and Avernus, and wants to get to Lorroakan immediately in order to fulfill his destiny (he refers to it as his destiny several times throughout the game).
This makes what happens next all the more tragic.
Part 4 - Baldur's Gate, Lorroakan, and ending the Cycle of Abuse
Picture this - you've been rejected, abandoned, considered a lost cause for most of your life, accepted only by the siblings you just barely avoided losing forever. But the journey was worth it. You're finally here, in the city you've dreamed of, studying under who in your opinion is one of the most powerful and respected wizards in the world.
Then you get there, and you don't learn a thing. Your teacher asks you nonsensical questions and beats you as a punishment when you're wrong. It's unsurprising that when the player enters Sorcerous Sundries, that Rolan seems a bit more dejected than usual.
Much has been said about the depiction of abuse in media, but as a survivor of domestic violence, I found Rolan's reaction and justification of his abuse very accurate for someone suffering from DV. True to his personality, the very first thing he does is deny that anything's wrong, continuing his trend of burying his emotions in the hope that they'll go away.
[Player: I know the marks of subjugation. Your face - what happened?]
[Rolan: Nothing for you to worry about.] [Devnote: Master Lorroakan hurt him, but he doesn't want to say]
[Narrator: *His voice catches. Something's wrong here.*]
Survivors of DV often feel great shame towards their abuse, often blaming themselves and refusing to speak about it out of fear of appearing vulnerable. True to that, Rolan doesn't say anything about what Lorroakan's doing it, resorting to another common tactic for abuse survivors - implying what's happening without directly stating that the abuse is occurring. This is often out of fear, especially if the victim is still close to the abuser - in this case, Rolan not wanting to jeopardize his apprenticeship, or possibly be abused further for disclosing it to someone else.
[Rolan: Be very sure before you make to visit Lorroakan. He's got a beastly temper.] [Devnote: Sounds a bit disappointed in the player]
[Rolan: Master Lorroakan is... a difficult man.] [Devnote: Gently touches bruised face, distant]
Abuse survivors often hold a great deal of guilt for 'allowing' themselves to be abused, more so if the abuser considers them weak or easy to manipulate. There's often a stigma - "why didn't you just leave? You knew it was bad, yet you stayed, so there must be some blame on your part." This is not an uncommon belief amongst survivors, and through his journal entries, it can be inferred that Rolan holds a similar belief. Rolan's journal, and his VA's fantastic reading of it, can be found here. Rolan is clearly aware that what's being done to him is wrong, but he persists - in my opinion, partially because he believes it's worth the benefits involved, and partially because he feels a responsibility towards his siblings to succeed after 'failing' them so tragically before. Again, perfectionism, guilt, internalized self-hatred: easy traits for a horrible man like Lorroakan to take advantage of.
There are a few possible endings for Rolan here, the first being if you side against the Nightsong with Lorroakan.
The thing about abuse, as Larian so excellently portrays it, is that it is often perpetuated in cycles. A person who's been hurt is more likely to hurt others, whether as a response to their pain, or in an attempt to spread their misery in order to feel less alone. Though not all survivors become perpetrators themselves, many perpetrators are survivors themselves. Rolan is no different - if Nightsong is captured, and Lorroakan is killed in the fight, he will immediately attempt to cage the Nightsong himself and harness her immortality. This could easily be seen as an attempt to get strong enough that no one can ever hurt or take advantage of him again.
When the player next long rests, Rolan will be found dead, having been killed by Aylin - perhaps a mercy, to avoid him from becoming just the same as Lorroakan.
But the player who cares for Rolan wouldn't let this happen to him, right?
Rolan's attitude towards the player gradually changes over time, but nothing shows his growth more than his good ending, where you save Cal and Lia and side with the Nightsong. When you bring Nightsong to the tower, Rolan will be shocked, in disbelief that the Nightsong was a person all along. He turns against Lorroakan on the spot despite the other man's threats to ruin his life (a common tactic employed by abusers to control their victims).
[Lorroakan: Boy! At the ready. Once I've taken control of the aasimar, she must go directly into the caging runes.]
[Rolan: No, Master Lorroakan. I would have never assisted you if I knew you planned such horrors.]
[Rolan: You lied to get the Nightsong here. Made us all believe she was nothing but a relic. I have seen what true leadership can accomplish - but never under your tutelage.]
[Lorroakan: Watch your tongue, you child! I could make it so that no wizard in the realm will touch you.]
[Rolan: If they're all like you, I think that sounds like an excellent bargain.]
It takes an immense amount of courage to stand up to one's abuser, so to see Rolan so bravely stand against the man who hurt him was a positive surprise to me. It also shows just how much the player has changed Rolan for the better - your leadership and selflessness has inspired him, given him the bravery to stand against his abuser. It's a powerful scene, and I admit that watching it brought a tear to my eye, brief as it was. Few people get the chance to take revenge on their abusers, so it was cathartic to see Rolan thunderwaving him onto the balcony before letting Aylin snap his spine.
After the fight, Rolan thanks the player, finally feeling safe enough after his abuser's death to reveal what happened to him. Though it's implied that he feels some shame for being victimized, much of it is likely from the shock of the sudden event, and by the next day he's regained much of his enthusiasm - he still has the ego, but with less arrogance and more acceptance of the player's presence. Rolan's growth, from hating and mistrusting the player to eventually trusting them enough to show his true, kind self to them, is what really made me fall in love with him and his character arc.
Ultimately, Rolan's story isn't just about learning to lay down your pride and accept help from others - it's about abandoning perfectionism and elitism, accepting your own faults, and choosing to grow as a person. For Rolan, the player begins as an annoying, meddlesome force, someone who "moralizes" to him about saving others when he wants no part in doing what's considered "right". By the end of the game, he realizes just how lucky he is to have you in his life - without the player's influence, he could have easily gone down the worst path, the path of narcissism, ego, and disregard for others. But because of a string of coincidences, he was saved from that fate, and was allowed to grow and accept that there's enough room in his heart for more than just the few people that care about him. He learns to lay down the perfectionism, accept that making mistakes is a part of change, and feel his feelings for what they are - whether they're gratitude, fear, or even sadness.
For someone who struggles with avoidant attachment disorder, seeing Rolan's character change throughout the game greatly inspired me to change the way I was approaching my own relationships with people. Avoidant attachment disorder is not talked about very often, both in the medical field and in everyday life, and people suffering from it are often misunderstood or considered to be 'lost causes' - to see Rolan so capable of change inspired me to change myself, and I'm sure I wasn't the only one who felt this way.
When he takes over Ramazith's Tower, Rolan decides to distribute Lorroakan's knowledge to the world, and tells you about his plans to open a library. This is the most obvious sign that he's changed - the player's willingness to help him despite getting little or nothing in exchange has inspired him, and he becomes a kinder, more open person. He learns to trust again, to love again. It's unclear what happens afterwards, as he's not present in the epilogue, but the heartwarming conclusion to his arc can be seen in the issue of the Baldur's Mouth Gazette after Lorroakan's death -
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Despite everything, Rolan makes it to the end, having vanquished the trials in front of him with the help of the player. He gets his tower, his knowledge, and shares it with the realms, finally able to realize that he's worthy and deserving of a happy life.
-
Thank you to Larian for bringing Rolan's story to life, to Mr. Taylor for his excellent portrayal of this character, and to all the Rolan fans for showing him so much love every single day.
I have met so many amazing and talented friends from the community around this character, and I'll forever be grateful for everyone who showed him the love I feel towards him.
I can be found on twitter at @gimblebock.
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girlgenius1111 · 5 months
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no one speaks to you like that
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r deals with a cruel coach at the world cup. misa makes it better. feat. the girls finding out that their friends are together.
The door slammed shut behind him, and you exhaled a deep breath, collapsing back onto the bed. You'd never been more unhappy to have your own room than at that moment.
You'd stepped out of the bathroom post shower, just barely throwing on clothes, when you'd heard a knock at your door. You were hoping it was Misa, but when the door opened to reveal Vilda on the other side, you felt your heart sink. He had his characteristic scowl on his face as he stepped past you.
The following 15 minutes were what could only be categorized as verbal abuse. He went after everything; your skills, how hard you were trying, how fast you were, how you were "clearly not" following the meal plan he arbitrarily changed whenever he felt like it. You stood, completely still, looking just over his shoulder, taking it. You wouldn't argue, that never ended well. You didn't let yourself cry either, because he never appreciated tears. Instead, you let the words wash over you, and dug your nails into your palm.
You thought of Misa the whole time. How if she heard what he was saying she'd probably do something to get herself more than benched this time; maybe sent home. The last time Vilda had gone after you like this, he had made the mistake of doing it in view of Misa, who completely lost it at him. Now, she was unlikely to play the rest of the tournament, and Vilda seemed to enjoy screaming at you more than anyone else.
No one knew about the two of you, even if Vilda suspected. No one else had witnessed her reaction to his cruel words directed at you; everyone just knew she'd argued with him, and she would be riding the bench no matter how far we got. The division within the team was stark, and although Misa was a Real Madrid player, she mostly hung out with the Barcelona girls; with you. You'd gotten together a few months ago, and decided to keep it to yourselves, not wanting to deal with her club teammates finding another reason to dislike her.
When Vilda finished, you just wanted Misa. You wanted to wrap yourself up in her strong arms, bury your whole body in her larger one. You never felt safer than when Misa held you tightly to her. You knew that you should probably find Alexia or Irene and tell them what happened, but you didn't want to make a big deal out of it. You pulled out your phone, intending to see if Misa was alone, so you could go to her. You needed to get out of this room; the scent of Vilda's aftershave hung in the room like a fog, and it felt like it was suffocating you.
-Are you by yourself?
-Yes. Do you need me?
You could practically see the smirk lighting up the goalkeepers face as you read her response; you did need her, just not in the way she was implying.
-Can I come up? Vilda just left.
The little bubble that let you know she was typing appeared and disappeared a few times, before her reply came through.
-Dick. Yes, of course, please come up.
With that, you slipped your phone into your pocket, grabbing your room key, and headed out the door. You yanked your hood up, trying to hide the tears leaking out of your eyes. You walked down the hall, trying to keep yourself from crying until you got to Misa's room.
You heard voices coming from the direction of the elevator you were headed too, unmistakably those of Alexia and Jenni. Fuck. You had nowhere to go, and as soon as they saw you, they wouldn't let you out of their sight until you told them what was wrong. You had no choice but to keep walking towards them, turning the corner, hoping they'd be too wrapped up in conversation to notice you.
"Y/n!! We're gonna watch a movie in Mario and Ale's room, come with," Jenni called the minute she spotted you. You didn't know how to say no, so you said nothing, trying to walk past them.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Alexia asked, putting a hand on your shoulder to stop your movements. Again, you didn't say anything, continuing to stare at the ground. A gentle hand came to tug your hood off your head, before lifting your chin up. Your watery eyes met the older girls.
"What happened?" Jenni questioned, looking overly protective even though she didn't know what happened. She kept her hand under your chin, not allowing you to drop your gaze again.
"Nothing, I'm fine, I'm just going to hangout with Ona," you lied, trying to shake off their hands.
"What happened," Alexia asked, in a firmer voice. It wasn't mean, or harsh, but it still reminded you of the verbal lashing you'd just endured, and more tears were flooding your eyes before you could stop them.
"Vilda," you started, before a sob escaped your lips.
"Fucking hell," Jenni swore, pulling you tightly against her. "What did he say?"
"Come on, bring her to my room," Alexia said quietly, looking furious, realizing you weren't going to respond. Jenni maneuvered you down the hall, never letting go, through the door to Alexia's room, before pushing you to sit down on the edge of her bed. You wanted to pull your phone out and tell Misa that you'd been intercepted, but you couldn't do that without arising suspicion. Also, you couldn't really see clearly through the tears blurring your vision.
Alexia spoke a few words to Mariona, who looked equally as murderous as the other 2 girls, and you knew you needed to pull it together and make sure none of them did something stupid. They were all older than you, and were quite protective. It wouldn't be the first time they clashed with Vilda over him mistreating younger players, but with the semifinals coming up, you knew you couldn't risk anyone else getting benched.
The problem was that you were only getting more worked up, even as Jenni wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and began talking quietly in your ear.
"Whatever he said isn't true, I promise. You're an important member of this team, and you haven't done anything wrong," she told you.
You nodded, but the tears wouldn't stop. The embarrassment you felt was only making you cry harder. Alexia took a seat on the other side of you, placing a hand on your back.
"Jenni's right, you haven't done any-" her words were cut off by a frantic knock at the door. You knew who it was, even as the other girls exchanged confused looks. Mariona went to answer it, as Jenni and Alexia looked curiously after her.
No sooner had Mariona opened the door, than Misa's panicked voice was filling the room.
"Have you seen y/n? She texted me that Vilda..." She trailed off as Mariona stepped to the side, revealing your shaking form sitting in between your captains. The other girls watched as Misa's face melted from one of panic into one of pure adoration; one they'd never seen on her face before.
"Y/n, baby," she said, seemingly forgetting that you weren't alone. Your teammates exchanged looks, Mariona and Jenni mouthing “baby??” at each other, as Misa crossed the room, tugging you out from under the arms of Jenni and Alexia, pulling you into hers. They were just as surprised to see you wrap your arms around Misa, clutching tightly to her sweatshirt. Your tears immediately slowed as Misa held you tight, the feel of her around you calming you down instantly.
"I'll kill him," Misa said through clenched teeth, addressing no one in particular.
"Easy there, why don't you tell us what the hell is going on before you go kill him," Jenni said, glaring at Misa. Your Barca teammates had clearly connected the dots, and did not appreciate that you were clearly keeping a secret from them. Misa made to let go of you, make this more of a conversation had with you, rather than one spoken over your head, but you only tightened your grip on her, shaking your head into her chest. Her attention was, again, solely on you as she pulled you over to the other bed, tucking you under one arm as she sat down.
Misa was still gazing at you, fingers scratching lightly at your scalp as you emerged from her chest, wiping harshly at your face. Her hands pushed yours out of the way, ridding your face of tears much more gently than you had been doing. The simple gesture was so sweet, so intimate, and Alexia cleared her throat, drawing both of yours attention back to her.
"Well? How long has this been going on?" She asked, voice no longer the soft tone she had been using with you, instead replaced by what can only be described as her authoritative voice. Misa retreated to the rather quiet version of herself that most people experienced, and you spoke up. Still, her arm remained protectively wrapped around you and no one missed the way you leaned into her unconsciously.
"Since May,"
"And you didn't think you should maybe tell us that you were in a relationship with someone on the team? A relationship that appears to be pretty important to you?" Jenni asked. Her jaw was clenched, but she didn't look like mad Jenni, she looked like sad Jenni. You realized the three of them were not necessarily angry, but hurt that you'd kept this from them. You paused, unsure how to respond to that. In truth, Misa had asked to keep it to yourselves, but you didn't want to throw her under the bus. She had no such reservations.
"I asked her to not tell you guys. I didn't want anyone to know anything until I figured out how serious y/n was about me. And by the time I figured that out, we were at camp, and I didn't want to give my club teammates another reason to be... the way they are with me."
The other girls stared at the pair of you, somewhat stunned at the vulnerability just shown by Misa in admitting all of that. She was a reserved person, a private person, someone much happier to help her friends than allow them in at all.
"Well... that makes sense," Alexia said decisively. "We won't tell anyone."
Misa nodded once, a small smile gracing her lips, before she turned to look down at you.
"What did Vilda say?" She asked, eyeing you carefully. In response, you just shrugged, refusing to make eye contact. You absolutely did not want to discuss what he'd said in front of the rest of your teammates; you trusted them, but the things he had said were humiliating. Misa seemed to pick up on this, as did Alexia, as they quickly made eye contact, and Misa stood, pulling you with her.
"Let's go back to my room, yeah?" She asked quietly, and you smiled gratefully at her. Mariona and Jenni both voiced their disapproval at that idea.
"I have like 15 more questions for the two of you," Jenni protested.
"Yeah, what are we supposed to do, just let you go back to Misa's room all alone? We have a game tomorrow, girls." Mariona said teasingly.
"Alright, let them go." Alexia said, hiding a smirk at Mariona's comment. It really hadn't been that funny, but the way you and Misa immediately blushed, and looked anywhere but at your friends was amusing.
You and Misa walked out of the room, ignoring the suggestive jokes that Jenni and Mariona were making. You walked in complete silence to the elevator and up to Misa's room. You'd broken apart the minute you'd exited the room, and Misa longed to take your hand. Now that you were away from your friends and their teasing, it seemed the weight of whatever Vilda had said to you was settling back on top of you.
You allowed Misa to pull you into her room, nudging you to sit on the bed, as she took a seat next to you. You were distracted, caught up in your own head, only looking up at her worried brown eyes when she said your name softly.
"Are you okay?" She asked, feeling like she probably knew the answer. You shook your head slightly, leaning to lean more against the brunette. "Tell me what he said," she requested, and you sighed.
"More of the usual. I'm not playing hard enough, I'm not fast enough, not good enough," you paused. You looked up at your girlfriend, not sure if you should continue and tell her the worst part. She smiled encouragingly, a smile you only saw on her face when it was just the two of you. "He told me I need to start following the meal plan better, because 'it's clear' that I'm not," you finished quietly.
Misa's hands clenched into fists once again, knowing exactly how those words would effect you. She, more than anyone, knew that you struggled with keeping your habits around eating and working out healthy, and not letting them become obsessive. The goalkeeper reigned in her anger, though, realizing that it was clearly not what you needed from her.
She lifted your chin with one of her large hands, her touch gentler than you thought possible. "He's wrong, baby. You're having an incredible tournament. We're as far as we are partially because of you," she said earnestly.
"And yes, you aren't following his stupid meal plans, because he isn't a dietician, and you need to be careful with how you keep track of what you're putting in your body. You're doing what you need to do to stay healthy, and that is what's important."
You were still looking at her with so much doubt, as though you desperately wanted to believe her, but weren't sure if you could. Deciding that maybe words had taken her as far as they could, she leaned in, pressing her lips to yours, hard, in what she hoped was a reassuring way. You met her with enthusiasm, relaxing into the kiss as your mouths moved in sync with each other.
After a few moments, she pulled back pressing her forehead to yours. You looked slightly dazed, and Misa bit back a smirk at the effect she had on you.
"You are beautiful" she whispered, "you are strong, and you are fueling your body in the way you need to, in order to do your job. And I am so proud of you."
Misa often shocked you with how gentle, how kind and soft she could be. She put on such a hard exterior, all harsh frowns and flexed muscles on the pitch. Off the pitch, she was only slightly less intimidating, opting often to remain quiet and listen, her hard expression only wavering when she was around people she was comfortable with.
She was so different when you were alone with her though, the severe expression that normally rested on her face melting away to soft lips that pressed gentle kisses to your forehead, and wide eyes that looked at you with so much love.
It hadn't started off that way; it had started as passionate, rough hookups. Slowly though, you wore her down. She couldn't get enough of you, and she eventually stopped trying to.
She was enamored with you, and you with her. Privately, she felt that you made her a better person, a kinder person. You felt like she had a unique ability to make you laugh when nothing seemed funny, and hold you together when you felt like you were minutes from falling apart. Like right now. She knew exactly what to say, what to tell you.
"I'll say something to him," she said quietly, and you pushed her off of you, sitting up.
"No, Misa, you can't," you argued. She looked determined, a familiar smoldering look on her face, one she got when she was getting ready to save a penalty.
"Baby, he can't speak to you in that way," she began.
"No!" you responded, almost shouting. She looked at you in surprise, startled to see an incredibly panicked expression on your face.
"Calm down, y/n-"
"No, you can't say something to him. Promise me you won't. Please," you interrupted, almost begging.
"Why? I'm already benched what else could he do?" she wondered.
"He could send you home, Misa. And if you left, I couldn't... I couldn't do this, not without you," you responded, looking at her desperately. Misa brought you back into her arms before responding, holding you tight.
"Alright, baby. I won't say anything. I'm not going anywhere, and you don't have to do this without me," she promised.
"Thank you," you murmured. The goalkeeper smiled at you softly, rubbing your cheek gently with her thumb. You still looked nervous, still upset, biting the inside of your cheek like you were thinking hard. She waited patiently, content to sit in silence until you were ready to say what was on your mind.
"I'm sorry they found out. I just kind of freaked out when I ran into them, and I wanted to find you but they were in the hall..."
"Don't worry about that. I don't care that they found out. I don't care if everyone knows i'm with you. I just care that you're okay," she told you. "Anyway, now that Jenni has probably told the entire team, I can stay in here tonight with you."
You leaned closer against her, more relieved at her saying she'd stay than you'd like to admit.
"But you have a big game tomorrow, and you need to rest. What can I do to get you to sleep?" she asked, knowing you were likely too anxious to be able to sleep right away. Again, you marveled at how well she knew you.
"Hmm," you said, scooting down the bed and rolling onto your stomach. Misa was looking at you adoringly, and you grabbed one of her hands, placing it on your back. She laughed in response, beginning to run her nails lightly up and down. You sighed happily, and she scooted down too, kissing just above your eyebrow, before resting her head on the pillow, continuing her motions. You were drifting off, but still, the thoughts of Vilda and what he'd said to you still bounced around in your head.
"Do you think he'll yell at me again?" you asked groggily, blinking your eyes open just enough to see the girl opposite you.
"No. I won't let him," she responded, sounding completely sure. You nodded, shutting your eyes again. You believed her, inexplicably. Her tone was so confident, and more than that, you trusted her. More than you'd ever trusted anyone before. You fell asleep easily, feeling completely protected with the strong girl next to you, watching as you drifted off.
-----
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Another day, another post dissecting Our Life's code! This time we'll be going over how Our Life decides whether your Cove will be Studious, Sporty, or somewhere in the middle!
If you've already seen my post on how the game decides where Cove is on the spectrum between warm and cold, then most of this will feel extremely familiar, but you don't need to check that post to understand this one! I'll be going over everything exactly the same.
According to GB Patch, getting a sporty or studious Cove is primarily based on what you do with him activity-wise.
Part of it is what Cove literally ends up doing in the events. There are multiple times where he can do something more physical or do something more low key. Another part is a somewhat meta “the player is creating their reality” type of deal. For example, if the player makes it clear that their MC is the sporty one around, that would have to mean Cove isn’t the sporty one. So even without interacting with Cove directly you’d rack up a lot studious points for him because your choices are describing a world where Cove isn’t that into sports. That’s not to say it’s impossible for the MC and Cove to both be into sports. Describing your MC specifically as the one into sports is excluding Cove from being super into sports, but he doesn’t have to be excluded. The most straightforward way to get a sporty Cove is to just really focus on it. Whenever there’s something that could possibly make him more interested in bookish things, lean away from that. And whenever there’s a way to encourage him to like or do physical stuff, do it. So, for example, don’t accept just being a silver medalist in Grown-up, don’t say that the MC is a faster runner than Cove when trying to get away from Shiloh, do ask him question that lead to him talking about outdoorsy activities he does, etc.
Calling it "points" is very accurate because it's very much a points system. Whenever you do certain actions with/say certain things to Cove, the game will add a "point" to either Cove being studious or Cove being sporty (in extremely rare cases, it will add two instead of even subtract one).
(also, shockingly, reading the book with Cove in Sleepover actually has zero effect on Cove being Studious/Sporty; I even had to read through the script to confirm and the only reasoning I can imagine is because it's related to getting a CG and the devs wouldn't want players who want the CG to feel forced into making Cove more studious just to get it)
The tutorial of the game also vaguely details the studious to sporty spectrum:
[Cove']s interests fall along a sporty-mixed-studious spectrum. It works similarly to the personality one. When he's young, Cove has a variety of interests. As time goes on that can stay the same, begin to focus on more athletic/outdoorsy activities, or become more interested in academic/indoorsy ways to spend time.
And, if you've ever been in the Cove Creator, you'd know that there are five "states" that Cove can be in when it comes to his interests, with one state being between Studious and Mixed while another is between Mixed and Sporty. However, as far as I can tell, the game will never actually check for these two states, meaning that Cove is either Studious, Mixed, or Sporty, without any sort of Studious-Mixed or Mixed-Sporty at all.
In terms of the first check of the game - after the end of Step 1, of course - the game will examine the points you've gathered and decide where on the spectrum Cove is. If you have more Studious points, then the game will look only at how many points you've gathered there and vice versa with Sporty points. If you have an equal amount of Studious and Sporty points, then there will be a sort of "coin flip" to determine which points the game will check (this actually happened to me once where I had to go back on a save and got a Sporty Cove instead of a Studious one even though I'd done nothing different, simply because I'd accumulated an equal amount of sporty and studious points with Cove).
The remaining points in the other category are thrown away, and if you don't have enough sporty/studious points (depending on what you had more of or what the game chose in the "coin toss"), then you get a Mixed Cove.
Interestingly enough, the game is actually uneven in how it calculates a "fully Studious" or "fully Sporty" Cove. If you have six or more points in Studiousness, then you get a "fully Studious" Cove, but the game only asks for five of more in Sportiness to give you a "fully Sporty" Cove. This means that you could have six points in both Studiousness and Sportiness, which would give you a "fully Sporty" Cove if the coin flip picked Sportiness, but if the coin flip picks Studiousness, you'll only get a "Studious-Mixed" Cove.
As stated above though, the Studious-Mixed and Mixed-Sporty states don't really exist and serve as Studious and Sporty respectively anyway. In the grand scheme of things, it won't matter, but I digress.
Keeping that in mind, the game only cares if you have three or more points in either Studiousness or Sportiness. If you have three or more Studious points, you get a Studious Cove, and if you have three or more Sporty points, you get a Sporty Cove (and a coin toss if you're equal in both to decide whether he's Studious or Sporty). If you do not have enough points in either, you get a Mixed Cove. A Mixed Cove is most likely if you either play through Step 1 without playing any moments or avoid leaning Cove towards anything Studious/Sporty at all.
Cove's personality and appearance are also unrelated to whether he's Studious or Sporty, excluding moments where a multiple choice option might affect multiple values at once (but this is coincidence rather than direct correlation and, yes, I'll mention them when they come). Cove will also still do things like go surfing in Wave even if he's Studious, it's just that he'll be an awkward surfer instead of a graceful one (no comment if he's Mixed).
In terms of things that affect the player directly, the gummy bear toss in the Step 2 DLC moment Birthday is one of the biggest things that come to mind, as you'll lose if Cove isn't sporty and your MC hasn't been given any "sporty points" of their own (since this post isn't about the MC, I'll keep it brief and just say that the game keeps track of your own athletic ability during Step 2, such as if you tell Kyra that you like to swim). If that matters to you, you can opt for a sporty Cove and save yourself the trouble as there's no Studious equivalent of the gummy bear toss.
As for all of the moments in Step 1 where you have a chance to influence Cove's Studiousness/Sportiness, here they are!
Step 1 - Prologue
When Cove and the MC try to flee from Shiloh (if the MC agrees to go along with Cove):
He was fast, but you knew you could outrun him if you had to. [sporty +1]
He was not that fast, you knew you could outrun him if you had to. [studious +1]
He was not that fast, but neither were you. [studious +1]
At that speed, you weren't sure if you could go fast enough to reach him. [sporty +1]
Shopping
When Cove is staring down absentmindedly at the sand:
"Are you looking for snails?" [sporty +1]
"Are you looking for shells?" [studious +1]
"What is it?" [studious +1]
"You didn't feel the need to ask why." [sporty +1]
When Cove goes back to not saying anything on the beach:
You didn't either. [sporty +1]
"What did you want to go to the shops for?" [studious +1]
"What do you usually do on the beach?" [sporty +1]
Grown Up
When Lizzie tells Cove and the MC that they won silver in the pretend Olympics:
"Silver sucks. I don't want silver." [sporty +1]
"I'm okay with that." [studious +1]
"Hey, we can do better than silver!" [sporty +1]
"Silver's not bad. Nice." [studious +1]
You stayed silent. [no change]
Long Day
When Lizzie asks the MC if they're a chicken who doesn't want to ding-dong-ditch the mean grandparents:
"Yeah. Cluck-cluck." [studious +1]
You'd rather just avoid them. [studious +1]
You thought they deserved worse. [no change]
"I'll do it." [no change]
When the MC gets to decide what they see in the clouds:
You saw a dolphin. [studious +1] {note that this will give Cove the dark blue short-sleeved shirt}
You saw a car. [sporty +1] {note that this will give Cove the red salamander sleeveless shirt}
You saw an alpaca. [sporty +1] {note that this will give Cove the dark blue short-sleeved shirt}
You saw a smiley face. [sporty +1] {note that this will give Cove the red salamander sleeveless shirt}
You saw cloud shapes. [studious +1]
Sandcastle
[NONE]
Fireflies
When the MC notices Cove lagging behind the group while en route to poppy hill:
"Are you not gonna come?" [no change] {but will give Cove cold +1}
You tugged him along. [sporty +1] {note that this will give Cove cold +1 on Indifferent and warm +1 on Fond/Crush}
You walked with him. [no change] {but will give Cove cold +1}
You waved at him to hurry. [no change] {but will give Cove warm +1}
You ran off. [no change]
When Cove fails to catch a firefly after the MC catches one:
You encouraged him to try again. [sporty +1] {note that this will give Cove warm +1}
You told him about the firefly you had. [studious +1] {note that this will give Cove cold +1}
You made a joke about what happened. [studious +1]
You did your own things. [sporty +1]
Library
When the MC chooses to go with Cove rather than participate in the quiz:
[sporty +1] {note that this will give Cove cold +1}
When the MC and Cove are about to be interrupted in their game of hide-and-seek (dependent on how good the MC has been at the game; answers marked with a * are the correct ones):
1st round of hide-and-seek
Next to a Peter Pan poster.
*Beside the fairy tale display.
*Behind the solar system model.
2nd round of hide-and-seek
By the fire awareness station.
Near the stuffed animals.
*Under the giant piece of fruit.
By the outlaw poster.
*In the fantasy section.
Near the toddler books.
3rd round of hide-and-seek
*In all the old Christmas stuff.
Next to the kid detective poster.
*Behind the Willy Wonka statues.
Final Tally
the MC won zero rounds (Cove will say "I'm doing good.") [sporty +1]
the MC won one round (Cove will say "I'm doing good.") [studious +1] [sporty +1]
the MC won two rounds (Cove will say "I can still win.") [studious +1]
the MC won all three rounds (Cove will say "I need to do good in at least one round.") [studious +1]
If the MC chose to go do the quiz instead:
[studious +1] {note that this will give Cove warm +1}
Ghost
[NONE]
Barbecue
When the MC is racing the other kids to catch the girl with the squirt gun (if the MC chose to go play with the kids in the first place):
You outran them easily. [studious +1]
You outran them with effort. [sporty +1]
You weren't as fast as them because they were speedy. [sporty +1]
You weren't as fast as them because you just weren't fast. [studious +1]
You moved to the side to let them pass; you didn't wanna win this race. [no change]
When Mr. Holden comments on his interests:
"Those are things Cove likes." [sporty +1]
"Wow. It's a good thing you live by the beach." [studious +1]
You stayed quiet. [no change]
Runaway
[NONE]
Sleepover
[NONE]
Step 1 - Ending
When Cove tries to skip a rock across the water (if the MC chose to stay with him):
You were impressed over how far he got it to go. It sailed way out into the sea. [sporty +2] [studious -1]
It was a good toss. That was pretty neat. [sporty +1]
It wasn't a long throw. But he didn't care to try for that. [studious +1]
The rock sunk kind of... like a rock and fell back down almost right after he tossed it. [studious +2] [sporty -1]
And that's all of them! A few surprises are in there, but it's mostly straightforward in either prompting Cove to talk about outdoor/active things he does or choosing options that imply he's particularly good/fast (whether compared to the MC or in general). Particularly tricky are the ones that might change Cove's appearance/personality when you didn't intend for that to happen and are trying not to use the Cove Creator to get the Cove you want.
Still, it's definitely easier to gauge than Cove's appearance or personality, so whether you wanted this for a guide or just for the data, I hope you enjoyed! :D
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hunterwritings · 6 months
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𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 | 𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝐤𝐮𝐞𝐢 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐨
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request: "hi there! since you mentioned in your last post you enjoy writing domestic lin kuei trio, would you mind writing some more about them? either general headcanons or a drabble for each one, feel free to chose! also, love your writing 🩷" warnings: none, established relationship notes: i have rewritten this 3 times 😭| also can you tell i love writing touch starved bi-han
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↳ 𝐁𝐢-𝐡𝐚𝐧 A sigh escaped your lips as you sat on your bed, an old book in your hand. The other hand was softly holding onto Bi-han's hair as he laid his head in your lap. The Grandmaster was tired and relaxed by lying in your lap and having his big arms wrap over your thighs. You smiled at the needy action, knowing that he would only do something like this behind closed doors. You hummed to the soft music coming from your vinyl player, it was always nice to have some background music on whenever you were going about your day. Bi-han felt as if he could lay here for eternity, as if all his stress would melt away as you played with his hair. He sat there for a while basking in the feeling, before he heard a familiar song playing on the vinyl. He sat up quickly, almost convincing you that something was wrong. He made his way over to the record player and started messing with the volume. "Oh, you turning off my music?" You chuckled, lying the book down in your lap. He didn't respond, instead, he actually turned the music volume up so that you could hear the song clearly. You knew this song. Bi-han knew this song. It was the song played on your wedding night. You had always assumed that Bi-han had forgotten or just chosen to move forward instead of dwell on the past. That is until he turns around to greet you with soft eyes. "You remember this?" You ask. "Of course." He bluntly responded.
A smile appears on your lips as you look up at him, who walks to the corner of the bed to grab ahold of your hand. He slowly pulls until you stand up, grabbing your other hand with his. He holds up both of your palms against his before slowly interlacing his fingers with your own. Dark brown eyes peer down at you before leaning in to press a sweet, meaningful kiss to your lips; his hands move from yours to hold onto your waist. Your hands reach up behind his head and hold onto it tightly as he kissed you with passion. This was almost shocking for Bi-han, you knew he could get needy from time to time, but this was more than just that. He pulls away from your lips to press his forehead against yours, a deep sigh leaving his lips. He reaches one of his cold hands up to hold your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat. To your surprise, he began swaying as he held you. "Is this a dance?" You softly asked, not wanting to seem like you were laughing at him because you didn't want to diminish his feelings. He just hummed in response, you could feel the vibrations on his chest.
The two of you swayed there for a minute before Bi-han took a deep breath before speaking.
"There are some things I cannot say with words." He says and you swear you can hear his heart beat faster. You knew what he was trying to tell you, trying to tell you that he loves you without actually saying it. "You don't have to." You say pulling away from his chest to look him in the eyes. "I know." You add with a soft smile that he returns, a rare site. You conceal the fact with a soft kiss to his lips once again.
↳ 𝐊𝐮𝐚𝐢 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐠
A strong smell of some sort of cooking filled the air as you walked into the temple. Your eyebrows furrowed as you wondered who could be cooking right now. You followed the smell to the kitchen of the the temple, to see Kuai Liang standing there, cooking some that smelled delicious.
"Kuai Liang?" You said with a surprised smile on your face. He turned around and his face instantly lit up the second he saw you, almost dropping the food he was holding. "My love." He breathes out before walking up to you and engulfing you in a warm embrace, practically lifting you up off the floor. You giggle at his actions as he pressed multiple kisses to your lips and neck. "What are you doing cooking dinner?" You ask. He turns around to see the food he was making and back to you with a smile on his face. "Well I knew you were going to be tired once you were done with your training, so I thought I'd give you a nice, warm meal." He explains, holding tightly onto your hips as he pulled your bodies closer together. "Oh Kuai Liang, I promised to cook for you tonight." You say as he shakes his head. "No, no please, I can already see that you are tired." He says. He wasn't wrong, you had been training for the most part of the day and you were tired, but you still would've cooked for him. "Well then I will help you finish making the meal." You add, trying to still adhere to your previous promise. "No need, it is already done. I thought to start it early so that you wouldn't have to wait for your meal." He smiles and you gaze at him with adoration. What could you have done to get such a perfect man?
"By the Elder Gods, how can you be so perfect?" You ask as you scan his facial features, taking in how every part of his face is perfectly sculpted. "Please, you are perfection incarnate. A goddess walking amongst us, all I can do is worship you." His words were almost like they were written by the gods themselves. He truly treated you as if you were an all-powerful deity and refused to accept any other treatment less than that. All you could do was shake your head with the largest smile on your face and warmness in your cheeks. You looked down, almost flustered by his words. He reached his hand underneath your chin and raised your head to face your eyes. A wide smile plastered on his face before he pulled you close and pressed a kiss to your lips, a much longer kiss than the ones before. This was a kiss full of passion, to show that he meant every word of previous statement. You knew that you were going to end up repaying him in the future, one way or the other.
↳ 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬
Your eyebrows tightly furrowed together and a sigh fell from your breath as you entered the living area of the temple. Stress had clouded your mind, you knew you had many things to get done and it seemed like you had no time. You knew it was irrational but it would still manage to bring you down, almost ruin your day completely. You pushed through the door to your shared bedroom and felt saddened when you noticed that Tomas was not there.
Your sadness was short-lived once you heard your name excitedly being called behind you. You turn to see Tomas standing in the doorway with a large smile on his lips. "Oh, Tomas." Relief fills your voice as you rush up to him and engulf him in a hug, almost pouring your bodyweight into his arms completely. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you." You speak into his chest as he wraps his arms around you and tightly squeezes. "I'm sure the feeling is mutual." He laughs. You also knew how much Tomas missed you during the day, he was practically attached at the hip to you.
"I am exhausted." You say as you look up to him. "Can we please rest early?" He smiles at your request, holding one of his hands at the back of your head.
"Of course, but first I have something for you. A gift." He says as you raise and eyebrow to him. "It's nothing spectacular of course, but just something I thought you'd appreciate." He explains, almost stumbling over his words. Most of the time you would probably ask to wait for the morning, but his puppy dog eyes could lure you anywhere, so you agreed. Tomas walked you out of the bedroom with his hands over yours eyes. He walked slow to ensure that you wouldn't trip or run into anything. "Okay, stop right here." He says as you stop in your tracks. "Now, look!" He excitedly says before removing his hands from your eyes to reveal a large bouquet of flowers sitting on the table and small little boxes of cookies and sweets. One of your hands reaches up to cover your mouth and you could feel small tears of happiness prick at your eyes. "Tomas!" You exclaim before turning back to him and jumping into his arms. He laughed as he wrapped his arms around you and swayed you in a circle before setting you back down, still engulfed by his arms. "I know it is not uncommon or something magnificent, but I saw how stressed you seemed this morning and thought that you deserved something nice. Something to show you how much I adore you." He explains as he notices your glossy eyes, reaching his thumbs under your cheeks as he held your face between his hands. "It means more than you know." You tell him sincerely as his eyes light up. He leans in to embrace your lips in a sweet kiss and pulls your body closer into his. "I love you entirely (Y/N)." He softly speaks, inches away from your lips. "As I love you, Tomas." You reciprocate before leaning back into his sweet lips.
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hughesyodaddy43 · 23 days
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you're gonna be okay ⎸ J.H
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Jack Hughes x Reader synopsis : when Jack loses a big game, he comes over to seek support from his favourite person. word count: 1.5k warnings: sad jack, fluff, angst? Authors note: I have more fanfics coming soon, i have a range of them pre -planned with covers and titles and I read everyones request so if i don't get to yours then it's because i already have a story planned for that player or request. I hope you like this one :)
I slumped down on my bed, easily immersing myself in the world of fiction, every now and then munching on the bowl of popcorn I had sitting beside me. Jack was playing for team USA tonight so I was waiting patiently for him to message me that the game ended so we could call or hang out. Something about these big games excited me, not for the sport but for the post game interviews. 
It was nice to watch the interviews and read through the comments as if you couldn't just ask Jack the same questions yourself and actually get real and honest answers. 
You didn't know the final score yet so you went on youtube to see if a post game interview was up and you were met with the prettiest blue puppy dog eyes you've ever seen, but you knew jack and this was definitely not gonna be a happy interview. You click on the video and are met with a saddened Jack on the verge of tears, your heart aches for him as you listen to his answers; you were mad that they would interview a 17year old on the verge of tears and still ask the most idiotic questions. 
I only made it about 5 minutes into the video before I  got a message on my phone.
Jack 💘:  I’m outside. 
                                                 Okay, coming down now.         
I  walk down towards the front door and see a dishevelled jack peering back at me.
“Hi. Can I come in?” The young hockey player asks while twirling with his fingers. 
“Of course” I answer, slightly smiling at him as I move my body so he can slip past me. 
He walks through my doorway and up towards my room, I trail behind him closely up until he reaches my bed and slumps down on it , exhaustion evident on his face as he looks up at me standing in the doorway. “Are you okay?” I asked quietly, not wanting to make him feel worse, though judging by the way his lip quivered and his head shook, I'm not sure that was the right decision. 
“We lost” he says just above a whisper 
“Hm?” I walked closer to him and sat beside him, reaching over to hold his hand that he was fiddling with in his lap. “We lost the game, we lost everything” he states, audible this time.
“Oh. well it’s okay-” "NO ITS NOT OKAY” Jack yells, standing up and turning to face me, running his hands through his freshly washed hair. “It's not okay, I let my team down, I let my parents down, I've let everyone down and I'm so tired” he rants on, quieting down towards the end. 
“Hey, hey . It is okay, alright? Just because you've lost this game, doesn't mean you've lost everything"
"yes it does, you have no idea what it's like to lose something like this. You don't have to worry about making sure you end up drafted. You'll never know.” ' Jack replies quickly, raising his voice once  again 
“you havent lost everything,i know it feels like it and i know you’re upset. But please don’t start yelling at me when I'm just trying to help you.'' He looks at me after I say this, tears filling up his eyes.
 “You’re right, im sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you, I'm just so angry at myself, I could've played better , we could've won but I let everyone down." I stand up and walk in front of him 
“Hockey is a team sport, Jack. One loss isn't your fault, besides all hockey players lose big games, even the best of the best.” Jack doesn't reply, instead he just nods his head and wipes a falling tear from his cheek.
“You’re an amazing player Jack, anyone can see that. You played well, and so did everyone else. Losses happen, it wouldn't be competitive if nobody lost.” He nods again, looking down at the ground. 
I sigh before continuing “why don't we just lay down and watch a movie?hm?” i ask 
The boy sniffles before nodding, replying with a light yeah as he makes his way back over to my bed. He sits against the headboard and watches me as I sit down and open my laptop. Stupidly i forgot to close the youtube tab i had opened from his interview and there it was, my boys said face displayed on my computer. I look over at Jack, he stares at the screen then back at me. 
“Sorry, i usually watch your post game interviews” i apologise.``its okay, i think its cute you watch my interviews” he smiles lightly at me, his beautiful smile that i didnt think i'd see tonight was there on display “what can i say? You're just too hard to resist” I joke, gaining a light chuckle from the boy  before fixing my eyes back to the screen so we can pick something to watch.
X
X
“Do you really think everything will be okay?” Jack asks in a mumble. “Mhm, you're gonna be okay” Jack leans up to face me “i'm gonna be okay” he repeats “you’re gonna be okay” i reply before he leans in and presses his soft lips on mine, we pull away and jack returns to his previous position, snuggling his face into my neck. “Goodnight, Jack. Love you” i say softly “mm night, love you too y/nn” jack replies before swiftly drifting off to a much needed sleep.
I wrap my arms around Jack in a warm embrace, sinking down into the pillows and pulling the blanket up higher. Light snores are audible from the boy as he leans into my touch, even when he's sleeping, he still manages to tighten his arms around me, lightly rubbing circles on my skin from where my shirt rolled up. I play with his hair while  allowing my eyes to grow heavy and fall into a peaceful slumber. Comfortable with the outcome of this otherwise devastating night
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pxrxcxa · 2 years
Text
You're being mean 
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✶ One shot
Pairing | Eddie x Female reader 18+.
Post summary | After a disappointing hookup, Y/n develops a crush on Eddie when she can't stop thinking about what he'd be like in bed instead, wondering if he's as rough around the edges as everyone says he is.
What to expect | Eddie being a dominant, selfish ass. 18 + so minors DNI.
Post Warnings | Pure Smut 18 +, rough M oral sex, orgasm denial, F masturbation, choking, consensual forcing & degradation.
Word count | 3.1 K Word Count.
As always, any & all comments/reblogs are most appreciated - Take care, P. x 🌻
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Authors Note | A bit out of my comfort zone, I don't think that Eddie is actually anything like this but I wanted to write something angry lmao. I hope you enjoyed it, P.x 🌻
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I swung my feet in the air as I lounged across Nancy’s frilly pink bed spread, listening to her drone on about Steve Harrington, nodding and umming in the right places as her voiced faded into background noise, flipping mindlessly through a trashy magazine filled with perfect models that crushed my self-esteem. 
“So who’s yours y/n?” My eyes flashed to hers as a blush crept up my face, embarrassed as I realised I lost track of where she was up to.
“Huh?” I smiled sheepishly as she let out an exasperated sigh. 
“Your crush? Who is it, I told you mine? Pay up, it’s only fair.” I chewed on my lip as I stared into the shining brown eyes of my best friend as she sat on her bedroom floor, regret flooding through me as I hesitated to tell her. We were in our junior year at high school, and while Nancy had drooled over the King of Hawkins High along with the rest of the lower class, I had set my sights on someone even less attainable than Steve. 
I’d already gone down the route of boring basketball players. Personally, I felt that I could have lived without the four inches and twenty seconds, my last hook up leaving me woefully unsatisfied. As I paid more attention to Eddie’s random and chaotic outbursts out school, the more I wondered if he was that animated in all aspects of his life. 
There was just the small issue of Eddie seeming to not even notice my existence though, and my petrifying fear of approaching him, my tongue turning into butter anytime I got close to him.  
My heart thudded against my ribs painfully as she waited for my answer, I twisted her sheets around my fingers as Mrs Wheeler popped her head in through the door, offering us snacks. I rolled over to stare up at the ceiling as the door shut softly, closing my eyes as I whispered. 
“Eddie Munson.” I murmured; a breath flew out of Nancys’ mouth as she sprung up onto the mattress next to me.
“Who?” She screeched, eyes widening in shock as I peered at her face. 
“Eddie.” I said louder, watching her carefully for her reaction, she bit her lip as she stared at me like I was crazy. 
“Really?” A small smile spread across her face as she realised I was serious.
“I don’t know, there’s just something about him.” Eddies dark eyes popped into my mind, each time they met mine sending a shiver of fear and longing through me. 
“Huh.” She sucked her cheeks in and leaned back against her bed frame, watching me carefully.
“What?” I asked defensively, wrapping my arms across my chest. 
“Nothing.” She shrugged, a mischievous look dancing behind her eyes.
“No, what?” I demanded, snatching the schoolbook from her grasp as she picked it up to avoid my gaze.
“He’s just so… rough.” My face betrayed me as Nancy squealed, slapping my knee. 
“Oh…my…god. IS THAT WHAT YOU’RE INTO?” I buried myself into the mound of pillows, peaking through the cracks as I watched her blink in shock, her mouth hanging open wide.
“Well… Mike is in his club, maybe you could get him to introduce you!” She shouted excitedly, leaning forward to shake my shoulders. 
I laughed as her contagious energy made me grin. “Nance… no. He wouldn’t be interested in me.” My smile slipped from my face as I fiddled with my hands in my lap. 
“Why not?” She snapped, I faltered on the brink of admitting my insecurities to her, shame running through me over my jealousy towards her natural beauty, she wouldn’t understand even if I did try to explain.  
“He glares at me every time he catches me staring.” I muttered, telling her half of the truth. “I don’t think he likes me very much; he always looks angry whenever I see him.” My mind snapped to the thought of him stalking past me in the hallways at school, staring straight through me as I shrunk under his glare. 
“I think that’s just him, y/n.” She soothed, looking at me with pity. 
“Hmm.” I half-heartedly agreed, wanting to move past the topic. 
“You can take Mike and the others to their thing tonight!” I sighed as she clapped her hands together excitedly, knowing it was useless to try to argue with Nancy once she set her mind to something.
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I fiddled with the hem line of my jumper as I followed Mike and Dustin down the dark, empty school hallway, my nerves hitching up with each heavy footstep that echoed off the grey lockers on either side of me. I followed in tightly behind Nancy’s brother as they casually strolled through the drama room door, shouting over each other as they gushed about fake monsters. 
Eddie sat at the head of the table, low burning candles throwing sharp shadows across his attractive features as he twisted his ring across his bony fingers.
He didn’t look up as Mike cleared his throat beside me. “Uh Eddie, this is-“ 
“I know who she is.” He snapped, leaning back in his chair as his eyes flashed up to stare at him, Mike shrunk under his gaze, his voice trailing off into a whisper.
“Uh, yeah. She’s interested in DnD…” I dug my nails into my palm as his words sounded fake even to my ears.
“That’s not what she’s interested in.” His deep voice cut across the thick air, I blushed as his eyes shot daggers up at me through his long eyelashes. I shook as he scowled at me, his dark, deep-set eyes staring unblinkingly. Mike and Dustin shot me a confused look as I stuttered over my words. 
“Well spit it out.” Eddie glowered at me, raising his eyebrows mockingly at me. My lip trembled as he glared, laughing as I stood frozen at the end of the table, tugging at my shirt nervously. 
I spun on my heels as tears brimmed in my eyes, the detestation in his voice piercing through me as mortification washed over me. I knew coming with the kids tonight had been a bad idea, but I’d let Nancy talk me into it, letting her dress me up and paint my face with her makeup. I shouldered my way through the wooden door and stalked down the hallway back to my car, letting the cold night air of the autumn evening dry my fallen tears as I leant against the hood of my car. 
An hour passed. And then another as darkness well and truly settled around me, before I heard the thundering footsteps running down the hall. Mike and Dustin flew through the doors, quickly followed by the rest of their club. They stopped on the sidewalk as their mouths popped open in surprise at the sight of me. 
“Oh, we thought you’d left. Uh…” Mike clapped his hand around the back of his neck as his eyes turned towards the entrance of the car park, a pair of headlights cutting through the darkness. “I called my dad to come get us.” 
He stumbled as Eddie pushed past him, a cigarette hanging from his mouth as he pulled his jacket on over his defined shoulders, he rolled his eyes as he noticed me huddled in my sweater, pulling his lighter from his pocket and jogging lightly over to his van as his knotted curls flowed out behind him. I groaned as I pulled my hands from across my chest, annoyed at myself for wasting my time, and looking like a fool for it. 
Mike and Dustin waved goodbye and shot me apologetic smiles as they slid into Mr Wheelers car, as anguish and embarrassment turned in my stomach. Eddie had humiliated me tonight, with a sudden surge of anger that launched myself off the cold metal of my car, and across the empty car park, I decided that I couldn’t sink any lower so I might as well get a few shots in since he clearly couldn’t care less about me or my juvenile crush.  
I shouted out after him as he reached up to pull himself into van, Eddie narrowed his eyes dangerously as he turned to watch me storming over to him. 
“Hey.” I shouted, my loose hair whipping wildly around my face as I spurred across the asphalt.  
“What.” He snapped, pulling his smoke from his mouth and breathing a heavy cloud into my face, I coughed and waved the haze away as it stung my eyes. 
“What’s your problem?” I demanded, planting my feet squarely in front of him so he couldn’t escape. Eddie’s eyes ran up and down my shivering form, my anger dimming as cold air brushed my skin. 
“You think I don’t know what you want? You really think I don’t notice you staring after me like a lost puppy? Your silly little crush is so obvious, I’m embarrassed for you.” He twisted his thick brows as he grinned, staring into my eyes as I grasped for a reply. 
“I uh-“ my body tingled as he watched me flounder. 
“Uh Uh Uh” He mocked me, rolling his eyes when I flinched. “You’re such a child y/n, go home.” His jacket ruffled as he spun back to tear open his driver’s side door. 
“Hey! I am not a child.” I stepped forward with my fists balled at my side, not sure what I was planning, just my irritation at his words urging me on. 
He twisted back so suddenly that his closeness caught me completely off guard, his body inches from mine as the smell of cigarettes and cologne made me recoil. I stopped breathing as I watched his tongue slide over his pink lips, the corners of them turning up into a smirk. 
“Oh please y/n. You can’t even look me in the eyes.” My cheeks flamed as I avoided his gaze, the truth in his words calling me out painfully. His frizzy curls bounced as he shook his head, the suffocating smell of tobacco spilling over me as he pulled his van door open. 
My hand flashed out to curl around the leather across his elbow, his arm tensing as he felt my touch. His flaring eyes met mine for a split second before he reached out to grab my waist, spinning me around to slam into the side of his van. He knocked my foot to the side with his, so my legs spread wider, pushing himself into the gap between them. 
“You think you’re grown enough to handle me y/n?” I wasn’t sure if it was the doubtful, teasing look in his eyes, or my anger at his rudeness, but a foreign confidence took over my body as I dug my nails into his arms hard enough to draw blood. 
He smiled as I stared up at him angrily, his five o’clock shadow bristling across his jaw. He strained as a half-smile pulled up the corner of his mouth, slowly bringing his lips closer to mine as my knees shook, he stopped as he got close enough for me to practically taste him, the lean contours of his towering body pushing in deeper against me.
“This does not mean I like you. I just like to have fun.” 
He cocked his head to the side as I considered his words, I had a moment to gulp before he shoved me harshly along the panels of his van, stumbling slightly as his rough hand guided me to the back doors, my breathing sped up as he pulled me against his chest, the coarse fabric of his leather jacket pressing in against me as he tore the door open behind me, knocking me to the floor as he climbed in after me. 
My heavy breath echoed around us as he slammed the door shut, dousing us in darkness, I fumbled back on my elbows as his shining eyes moved closer to me, crawling backwards up to the front seats, the exposed metal beneath me digging into my palms. 
“If you tell anyone about this, I will kill you.” His grin deceived his serious tone as his eyes devoured me sprawled below him, shaking with excitement as I waited for his next move. 
Fear shot through me as he lowered himself to his knees, his hungry eyes never leaving mine as he forcibly wrenched my legs apart, my heart hammered loudly in my chest, doubt flickering through my mind as my body betrayed me. I squirmed under Eddie’s touch, he calloused hands leaving behind a trail of fire along my bare skin. 
“We’re really going to fuck here. What if someone sees us?” I caught my lip between my teeth as Eddie reached up to tear his shirt hastily over his head, fondling his boner through his dark jeans. 
“What makes you think I’m going to fuck you?” I froze as his words stabbed through me, shame pulsing through my mind as I searched his face to see he was serious. Eddie grinned as he lowered himself to hover over me, his hair tickling my chin as it fell in waves around us. 
“Don’t pretend like you wouldn’t enjoy it y/n. I can tell how much of a whore you are.” Heat buzzed through my body as I ran my eyes over his bare chest, soaking up parts of him that I had only imagined. 
“Take your clothes off right now.” He growled as I lifted my hands up to trace the muscles in his arms. He leant back to give me some space as I quickly wriggled out of my sweater and short skirt, my shivering skin glowing in the moonlight seeping through the windshield. His expression darkened as I laid back, he reached his hand out to explore my body, tearing my bra down my chest roughly to expose my breasts. His eyes shot up to my face as I gasped.
“I’m going to ruin you.” 
“Then why are you still talking?” 
He buried his head into my chest as his sharp teeth bit into my soft skin, his large hands wrapping around my sides, constricting around me until I struggled to breathe. I gasped as he pulled on my nipples, nibbling until they became hard, his hand snaked between my legs to rub roughly at my clit, my back arched up into his hand.  
“Suck on my fingers.” His arm moved up across my jaw as he forced me to open my mouth, shoving his hand down my throat as far as they would go until I was gagging, Eddie looked at me from where he hovered just above my panties, to smirk at me. 
“Look at you, all hot and bothered, you’re so fucking wet over me.” I moaned against his palm as his other hand pressed a long finger into me, curling up inside me mercilessly as I writhed madly from the pleasure. He pulled his drenched fingers from my mouth to wrap around my neck, squeezing until blind spots burst across my vision, his dark silhouette leaning up over me as he pumped his arm between my legs, snarling into my ear as I choked out gasps. My legs shook as the hot burning feeling twisted in my lower abdomen, he laughed as he felt me clench beneath him. 
“Not yet.”   
He sat up, pulling me with him as he forced me on my knees, his dexterous hands undoing his belt swiftly, my breath tumbled from my lips as his cock fell from his pants, barely having time to breath as he twisted his hand in my hair, guiding my mouth towards him. His fingers moved to my chin to force my lips apart, his free hand moving to brush my wayward hair away from my face as I wrapped my hand around him, I ran his tip long my parted lips, his precum making it slip back and forth easier. As soon as the first inch slipped past my mouth, he gripped the back of my head with both hands and shot forward, spit dribbling from my mouth as he forced himself deeper into my throat, I gagged as a tear escaped the corner of my eyes, Eddie’s moans filling the van as he pulled back and thrusted into my mouth, faster and faster until he shuddered and his hot cum poured over my tongue, dripping down my throat as he stroked my neck. 
His face was flushed as he pulled back to look down at me, wiping the corner of my mouth roughly, leaning me back down against the floor. 
“Swallow. All of it.” I closed my eyes as his words sent a shiver through me, silently obeying him. His cock was still hard as he stroked it, his eyes glued to my face as I licked my lips. 
 “Touch yourself.” I settled in against the rough metal beneath me, tracing the outlines of my chest, down along my soft stomach until I felt the lacy fabric of my panties. I held eye contact with him as I slipped my hand beneath them, rolling my hips as I rubbed my sensitive spot with slow circles. My eyes fluttered closed as my hand faltered, pleasure shooting through me.
“Open your eyes.” He snapped gruffly, his chest heaving as he stroked his cock faster, his eyes gleaming as he watched my body shake. My hand stopped as I gasped, my legs twitching. Eddie sighed heavily as he reached forward to knock my hand away angrily.
“Fucks sake, do it right y/n.” I moaned and reached down to grasp his arm to steady myself as he rubbed faster than me, trapping my clit between his finger tips as he rolled it back and forth, setting a pace that made me scream out in pleasure, quickly hurtling me towards an orgasm. Without missing a beat, he switched his index finger for his thumb on my clit so he could slide it inside of me, curling it back and forth as I shook.
“There we go.” He jerked his dick fast as my back arched further off the floor, shaking violently as heavenly light burst through me. My hair stuck to my mouth as I moaned, Eddie’s hand fucking me through my waves of pleasure.
He scoffed at me as I slumped against the floor, holding his hand out almost lazily towards me as I looked up at him through heavy lashes.
“Here, lick it off like the dirty slut you are.”
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“I’ll admit, you’re a lot more fun than I’d thought you be. Try not to let that go to your head.” He grinned at me over his shoulder, as he sat off the edge of his van with doors propped open, letting cold air swirl around us as he pulled his shirt over his head and shook his hair out of his collar.
“Why didn’t you want to fuck me?” I whispered as frustration flamed in my eyes again, crossing my legs and bringing them to my chin as I watched his back tense. The feeling of being used settled in my stomach uncomfortably as the lust left my body, leaving a dirty feeling behind.
“I didn’t have a condom. And if you wanted that lovey dovey shit y/n, you shouldn’t have come to me.” He jumped down from the back of the van, nodding his head towards me.
“You gotta go. I got shit to do” 
“We should probably leave anyway, before we start a scandal.” I gathered the fabric of my clothes against my chest, crawling across the floor so I could stand up to get dressed.
“Don’t act so innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.” He lit up a cigarette as he turned away from me, my hand hovering in the air as I silently asked for help to get down.
“You’re mean Eddie Munson.” I stumbled as I jumped down lightly onto the road. He turned to smirk at me, blowing a cloud of smoke in my face.
“Never said I wasn’t sweetheart.” 
Part 2
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Also Readers - if anyone is looking for a slow burn Eddie x y/n, check out my Opposite Ends series.
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Copyright © 2022 by P.McCann.
All Rights Reserved.
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gisellaswrld · 2 months
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I'm a believer of "if it's over, isn't mean to be" so congrats on your break up babe.
As u want to put your anger out, can u give us a revenge blurb? Like, reader discover her bf lied to her after they break up and now she's paying back. Choose a hughes and put them on a fight
P.s.: we love you ❤
a/n this is kinda what you mean, but genuinely i can’t fight fighting scenes so it’s kinda lead to black if you know what i mean. anyways here’s a lukey blurb, also strong platonic relationships with some players!
Your mouth had gone dry when you seen the Instagram post. It was your freshly ex-boyfriend in Malibu with a new girl, only a week after your breakup. As far as you knew, Chase was in Malibu to complete a few things for work. Instead, you were sure that he was only doing one this, getting his dick wet.
Which is what led to the situation you found yourself in now. A crowded bar on a Friday night in New Jersey, tucked under Luke’s arm. He invited you to join the team on a night out, which you hesitantly accepted. You had met the team under numerous occasions, considering you had been close friends with the Hughes brothers your entire life.
“Where’s your puppy dog?” Simon asked, promptly getting elbowed by Luke. “Broke up,” You had replied back, shrugging slightly. Luke squeezed your shoulder, giving you a sincere look. Simon looked curious, considering that since he’s met you, you’ve only been around Chase.
“Went to Malibu to get his dick wet, so I called it quits.” Your voice has a cold hearted tinge to it, watching as Simon raised his eyebrows. “Oh, well, I was just confused because he’s here, and I seen him with another girl so I figured-“
“He’s here?” Luke asked, looking around the bar area. You tensed up, remembering the previous conversation you had with Luke. The conversation where he said that he wouldn’t hesitate to start a problem.
Jack somehow squeezed his way next to you, Dawson following suit behind him. “Who’s here?” Jack asked, looking up at his brother with a confused glance. “Chase and his Malibu Barbie,” You replied, rolling your eyes.
“Deadass?”
“I see them - is that them?” Dawson asked, pointing to the couple that was about to approach the group. “You good?” Luke leaned down, whispered in your ear. You nodded, chugging the rest of your drink.
“Oh! Y/N! I would’ve never guessed to see you here!” Chase exclaimed, his voice slurred due to the amount of alcohol he most likely had consumed. “You mean the bar that I introduced you to?” You laughed, moving your eyes to the confused blonde next to him.
“Sorry, I’m Y/N. I’m the girl that he was dating when he flew to Malibu to fuck you,” You held out your hand, watching as a disgusting look took over her face. You shrugged, glancing up at Luke.
“I’m guessing you’ve fucked the whole group by now, right?” Chase asked, spit flying out of his mouth with his words. You could see Jack and Dawson take a small step further, separating you from Chase. “Not yet, getting there though,” It was a lie, but just enough to fuel Chase with anger.
“Fuckin slut-“
“You wanna take this outside kid? Or you wanna get embarrassed in here? I’m willing to do both,” Dawson shouted loudly, pointing his finger in Chase’s face.
“I’m not scared of you little hockey boys. You can’t even fight on ice-“ Chase’s words came flying as he stepped towards the boys. You deepened yourself further into Luke’s grasp. He wrapped his free arm around your waist, holding you against him tightly. Luke glanced over at Dawson, nodding his head towards the door.
“Alright let’s go, come on,” Dawson sarcastically laughed, him and Jack dragged Chase out of the bar. Which left Malibu Barbie awkwardly standing in front of the group.
“I’m sorry, did you have something to say too?” You asked her, tilting your head slightly. “You guys are aggressive maniacs.” She scoffed, turning on her heels to walk off.
Once she was out of your sight, you let out a deep breath. “You okay?” Luke mumbled, turning you to look at him. You nodded, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. “Yeah! Yeah, I just need another drink.” You told him.
“Bass! Princess needs another drink,” Luke spoke, catching Nate Bastian’s attention. “On it!”
You were lucky to become so entertained within the group of the New Jersey Devils. There were many strong platonic relationships, along with a growing romantic one for the youngest Hughes brother. Tonight solidified the lingering feelings that were trapped away in a locked safe. Feelings that would soon unravel.
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toorusluvr · 1 year
Text
… ⇢ ˗ˏˋ F.O.M.L PART TWO ࿐ྂ - FUSHIGURO TOJI
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characters: coach!fushiguro toji x volleyball player f!reader
cw: college!au + volleyball!au + cunnilingus (f!receiving) + penetrative sex + mentions of creeps bothering the reader 
word count: 5k
note from nis: hi everyone so the long awaited part two of f.o.m.l is finally here. the part one was posted before i did my internship and now i’m three weeks away from completing my internship lol i’m so sorry for the delay. so, i hope this part two will keep you entertained and i apologise in advance if it’s not as good as the part one. the part two focuses on the events that happened before part one took place (did i word this right?) anyway, i hope all of you enjoy this part two as a celebration on officially getting toji animated! <3 thank you and have a great holidays! 
[part 1][part 2] 
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Good lord, if Toji was no better than any other men, he would have tried to hit on his student that day. The first time he ever saw you as a woman rather than his student, he almost lost his mind over how fucked up that sounded in his head. He tried to blame himself for ever viewing you as a woman instead of his player but he just couldn’t stop staring at you! 
It was subtle, really. Toji was being subtle with all the staring, not wanting to stir up a crazy controversy around this new place. As a coach, he was supposed to lead his team to victory, not tearing them apart due to his foolish stunt. So, he acted normally like he usually did at his previous college. A grumpy, strict, hot-headed coach he has always been.  
Toji hates… no, he detests disobedience! He will never tolerate anyone talking back to him. Not even a word should be said back to him, no matter who the fuck you think you are. Whenever he asks you to do something, you better do it or else he’s going to lose his shit. You aren’t going to do what he asks you to do? It’s nice knowing you while it lasts. Especially in volleyball. You better follow what the man says. He is not at all nice with his words, he must say that. Most of the time, he would verbally lash out at the players, nitpicking every tiny mistake they make. It’s unbearable at first but hey, that’s how your team got to the final round of volleyball collegiate level! It was a remarkable day and the victory was possible due to Coach Toji’s determination and hard work. 
Coach Toji is never the one to make his players’ sports attire a huge problem in his life. But right now, there is nothing more he hates than how skimpy those shorts look on you at times. He wasn’t a fool! He could clearly see how stupid those college boys look at you in those revealing shorts. They were ogling over you and your teammates. A part of him just wanted to beat the shit out of them for having the audacity to look at what’s not theirs! 
But, he is not any better than those pervs. Coach Toji loves how those shorts look wonders on your legs. The way you stretch your legs on the squeaky floor and the shorts will rise a bit, teasing him with just a small peek of the globe of your ass. Coach Toji does not pay attention to the other players but you… you make him forget that he’s even breathing at the moment. 
Does he regret feeling this way towards his own student? Sometimes, yeah. He’s a grown man and so are you. It’s nothing inappropriate even if it might seem like it. But, he won’t ever act on his dirty thoughts for long as he’s having this job that is keeping him alive. He still has his conscience even if it’s uncontrollable at times. 
Coach Toji isn’t the one who likes having his hands on women he has absolutely no interest in. He avoids touching his players especially but you are an exception. He had to make an exception for you the moment he started to find himself staring at you. The days he started to think you are just what he needs in his life. Another plaything, another toy to keep. Such a precious little thing, his mind would say at every glance he takes. The quiet laughter you share with your teammates, the shy and flustered look every time your eyes meet his piercing gaze. He wouldn’t miss that. Oh, now he definitely knows you want him just as much. You may not want him romantically but it was enough to satisfy him on the you want him sexually part. 
You would think he doesn’t notice the way your body squirms every time he tries to fix your posture before each serve. He indeed notices it and the way your skin turns a bit colder each time his fingertips brush against your skin. The shaky breath you slowly inhale and exhale to calm the raging nervousness set in your heart. Cute. It just drives him to go crazy over you. 
His ‘girlfriend’, the woman he brought as his date to the event, wasn't really his girlfriend. Just another casual fuck buddy that he keeps in case he wants to well… fuck. Better to keep at least someone around anytime he wants to hit. She’s an old friend so no romantic feelings involved and both of them are very clear about it. 
That was merely a stunt to check if you’d get jealous but he never got the answer to his curiosity. You played your part well. Coach Toji was definitely impressed. 
However, a few days later, he received a call from your phone number that he saved in his contacts. Well, well, well, look who came running to him this late at night. Turns out, you couldn’t resist him too, huh? 
The moment he picked up the phone, his heart dropped at the sound of your panicking voice. You were sobbing and crying out for his name. “Coach, I-I’m sorry for calling you at this hour. There are a few guys who are disturbing me… I d-don’t feel safe,” your voice was caught in your throat at the end of the sentence. “Can you get me? Please…” you sobbed, holding your coat tightly to the chest. 
You couldn’t get past the group of guys because there were plenty of them. They were catcalling you and you got scared to walk past them. Calling your coach was the last thing you could do because no one else was nearby the campus at this hour. You went out for the sole purpose of purchasing dinner but then this shit happened. Fuck these guys for making you feel unsafe! 
Coach Toji immediately grabbed his jacket and keys, storming out of his apartment by the campus. “Don’t put the phone down! Stay on the phone with me. I’m coming to get you right now. Stay where you are,” he gritted through his teeth. His anger was off the roof, blood boiling at the thought of you feeling unsafe.
Those men’s faces will meet his fist tonight and he meant it with his whole existence. Whoever puts the people he looks out for in danger is going to be scathed alive. Coach Toji drove to the pinned location where he met a group of men drinking several cans of beer by the road. He spotted you hiding behind the building, hands clutching over your chest. One of the men tried to get you but he never got to approach you as Coach Toji’s fist met his jaw. 
“Don’t you fucking dare make women uncomfortable by your rotten existence, you fucking dipshit,” Coach Toji’s voice seethed. His knuckles burned, slightly scratching his skin off. He was quick to grab you by the hand and you were caught by surprise. Coach Toji stopped in his tracks in front of the group of men. 
“You better get the hell out of here before I call the fucking cops on ya,” he threatened. “If I get one more complaint, on God, I would make sure that each and one of you never sees the lights again.”
Coach Toji didn’t waste any second as he pushed you into the passenger seat. You tried to sob quietly beside your seething coach in his car. He didn’t say a word, just giving you space to calm down. His anger was out of his control but he wouldn’t want you to fear him while being in an unstable condition. He may have some unresolved anger issues but he is not an animal. 
You let your coach take you to wherever he wanted to take you. Knowing him, his players’ safety is under his guidance as well. So, he would never leave you in a place he doesn’t have his faith in. Instead, he brought you to his house by the campus. He’s been staying here for as long as you could remember. 
“Get inside,” Coach Toji instructed. You knew better than saying anything back so you obeyed. The door was unlocked by him and he rushed you inside. “Sit,” he pointed his index finger to the couch in the living room. 
His house was cozy even with the minimal decorations. No clutters except a number of beer cans on the dining table. Maybe he had a few drinks with people before this happened. You sat on the couch and the tears that overflowed before had left its stain on your face. Coach Toji went to his kitchen to grab a bottle of mineral water before handing it to you.
“Tell me what happened.” The screeching sound of the chair being dragged across the marble floor interrupted the silence. Toji placed the chair in front of you and sat across you, manspreading with his elbows planted above his knees. His jet black hair hair was damp, sweats sticking on his forehead. The black t-shirt stretched against his muscular body every time he moved. 
You explained to him that you were buying dinner take outs for yourself and you were on your way home when you stumbled upon the group of guys. They were drunk catcalling you, terrifying you to walk past them. You were stuck because that path was the only way home and out of there. Calling Coach Toji was your only option because he lives near campus and could come to get you as soon as possible. 
Coach Toji let out a heavy sigh. “Those bastards,” he gritted through his teeth. He got up and stood in front of you, keeping both of his hands inside his pocket. 
“Do you know any self-defense?” He asked. 
As embarrassing as it gets, you never really learned basic self-defense. There is no time to learn because of the time you spend on volleyball practices. “No, Coach. Sorry, I don’t know any,” you blurted out. 
“Don’t,” he retorted. “Don’t apologise.” 
Your eyes met his stare. It was instinctive to apologise for not knowing any because most of the time you ever hold a conversation with this man is when he is scolding you or your team members. 
“Sorry, Coach.” It was too late to realise what just came out of your mouth. Another apology that Coach Toji refused to hear. He let out a heavy sigh, clearly disappointed. 
“You think you can sweat tonight?” Coach Toji asked. His black orbs held its gaze with yours for a moment. 
You were clueless but you just said yes to his question. “Good. I’ll teach you basic self-defense. Come closer,” he instructed. “Leave your bag and takeout bags. They are not coming with you.”
Oh, right. You were still holding your shoulder bag and takeout bags in your lap. Putting aside your belongings, you got up and straightened your pullover and jeans. 
Coach Toji’s eyes landed on your outfits. “Those jeans are not going to make do. Do you have your shorts on?”
Safety shorts. You always put them on every time you wear jeans because it’s easier that way. No underwear lines. “Yes,” you hastily answered. 
Coach Toji could feel blood rush to his groin. Fuck. But, he wasn’t going to take advantage of you. He wanted to teach you some basic self-defense moves so it would be useful. He would hate for you to use it though because he doesn’t want any bastards near you to put you in any danger. 
“Put them on,” he commanded. 
You nodded hesitantly. Coach Toji hurriedly looked away so you could take your jeans off. He noticed you were clearing your throat awkwardly so he assumed you’re done. He cleared his throat next, “Alright. Come forward.” 
You did as told. Coach Toji took a step forward too, “First, stand with your feet apart. Align it with your shoulders. You know this. It’s a basic stance.” Within a second, you prepared yourself in the first stance. Coach Toji let out a disapproved noise. He checked your stance and moved his hand to widen the stance of your legs. His skin brushed against your skin and the contact burned you. 
Coach Toji felt the warmth emitted from your skin. “Next, you put your hands up like this,” Coach Toji showed the moves. You tried following and he nodded after your stance convinced him that it’s correct. He let out a satisfied hum before moving closer to fix the stance. 
“The next move requires flexibility. Just like how you did in volleyball. It’s easy. Move your legs like this. Raise them higher,” Coach Toji’s large hands gripped on your left thigh and moved them upwards, lifting your legs to kick the air. 
You let out a deep sigh as you felt the burning sensation over your inner thighs. “I think I pulled a muscle,” you winced in pain. Coach Toji furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t think you pulled a muscle, maybe it’s just a light strain. 
“Sit down,” he pointed his index finger to the couch and you obliged. Coach Toji inspected your smooth thighs, his fingers running along your skin. His other hand gripped on your flesh with a firm grip. 
“I don’t think you pulled a muscle,” he confirmed. 
You bit on your lower lip. Maybe it was a false alarm? 
“Um, okay, Coach.”
Coach Toji raised one of his eyebrows at you, “You didn’t stretch properly.”
The tone of his voice was hinting on accusing you for not stretching properly. You felt offended somehow because you did stretch properly before learning the self-defense mechanism. But, it’s only normal for him to have an accusatory tone because that’s how he has always been. 
“Quiet already?” Coach Toji asked, staring straight into your eyes. He let out a heavy sigh again. “I thought you girls are so talkative even when I am around. Ya think I didn’t know what you guys were talking about me the other day?” 
Your heart dropped at the sudden mention of the other day’s incident. It’s none other than the woman herself who told him about it. Coach Toji had a good laugh after the woman told him about it. Well, she wasn’t wrong about it neither did his players. 
“I- well, we…” your words trailed off, not knowing where to begin to defend yourself. “It was a joke. I apologise on behalf of my teammates. I assure you it will not happen again.” 
“So, you think my sex life is a joke to you girls?” He blurted out. Coach Toji was not being serious about it but it was exciting to see the panicked look on your face. You looked so helpless right now and it rubbed his ego in the wrong way. 
Your cheeks heated, your breath became unsteady, palms turned colder the moment he said that in your face. No one was supposed to overhear the stupid conversation that put you in trouble right now. It was a foolish bet that could possibly hurt no one. But, luck wasn’t on your team’s side that day. Coach Toji’s girlfriend heard it all and placed her bet on it too. 
That stupid little game put you in trouble and you became the hero that saved your teammates the trouble. Gosh, being the hero doesn’t sound so good right now. Not with the killing stare Coach Toji was giving you. 
“Maybe it’s about time for me to stress that you girls really need to mind your own business. My sex life has nothing to do with you people,” Coach Toji sternly said. He noticed your jaw ticked, eyebrows furrowed when he scolded you for the mess that your teammates created. 
“Again, Coach. I apologise on behalf of my teammates. It was a foolish bet that has nothing to do with you,” you gulped, shaky eyes and heavy breaths. Coach Toji shrugged, dismissing your apologies. 
He found it funny that he didn’t find it offensive at all but God, did he try to control himself from not spoiling you right there and now. Coach Toji was about to lose everything on his goddamn mind seeing that innocent face of yours trying to make up for the team.
“Oh, sweetheart. If only you knew,” the man sighed. “Want to see it for yourself so you can brag to your teammates all about it?” 
Your eyes shivered. That wasn’t how you planned to describe what you were feeling in that moment but for sure your eyes did shiver! Every hairs on your body rose, skin prickled with heat in embarrassment or arousal – it was either of them, you were not quite sure which of them was it. 
“I- no, that is not what I meant,” you stuttered in your place. Both of your feet were stuck to the floor. You could not move an inch because Toji was staring daggers at you. His piercing gaze could kill you, steal all of your breaths and finally, leave your body on the floor. 
“Ever dreamed about me, doll?” Coach Toji took a step forward, and you could feel the warmth of his muscular body emitting. His black shirt hugging every inch of his biceps and that rock hard abs. The man brought his one hand over your face, cupping your delicate jaw. The friction between your shorts and the restraining tent on his pants flipped the switch in your brain. 
Your breath hitched again. “I’ll take that as a yes,” you heard him whisper just beside your ears. His minty breath tickled your already heightened senses. Coach Toji’s palm landed on your stomach, pushing you onto the couch. His very much larger build hovered on top of you. 
That man’s mind was a battlefield. He didn’t know what he should do at this moment other than wrecking you. A part of him wanted to go gentle but he said fuck it, and just do whatever his guts were telling him to do. He could not waste this chance. He wanted to show you how a real man should satisfy his partner, though you aren’t really his to begin with. As long as you get to taste just an ounce of his intention, he’s fine with it. 
“Do you want this, doll? Whatcha say?” Coach Toji’s voice broke the silence again. Slowly, he lifted your chin to meet his eyes. 
Your breath staggered, chest rising up and down heavily. Without any hesitation, you nodded your head – not knowing what the future has in store for you. It was all in the heat of the moment and you could not deny the heat pooling in between your legs. 
Coach Toji’s lips caught your lower lip. Gently, he nibbled on the soft lips he sneakily admired from afar. The urge to just devour you was getting stronger each second. Coach Toji’s impatient hands almost ripped your shirt out. But then he thought you deserved better than that. He wanted to at least be respectful of your current state. He groaned into your mouth as his hands snuck their way in your shirt. His calloused hands lightly stroked your stomach, igniting a fire in your systems. 
You let out a soft pant as he removed your shirt for you. If it were up to him, the shirt would be ripped off in a millisecond but he was holding himself back. It was a surprise to him too. He was never patient, he would admit.
Coach Toji looked down to where your nipples were poking through the material of your bra. A smirk plastered across his face seeing you got aroused. Your back was comfortably laid on the couch and Coach Toji’s huge frame looming on top of you. The man’s minty breath ghosted over your neck, littering soft kisses on the thin skin. He sucked and nibbled on your skin, instantly decorating it with the red marks. 
Your fingers clawed on his ripped back, careful to not make it sting. Maybe it was the chemical reactions in your system, but you couldn’t defy the electrifying feeling to grind against the man’s forming tent. His lips left traces on your skin as he went lower and lower. 
“Oh, God,” you whimpered once he situated his face in between your thighs. A smirk plastered across his manly, “sculpted by God himself” face. He roughly pulled down your pants, almost ripping the fabric into tiny pieces. He was growing impatient as time passed by. He couldn’t just stand there trying to refrain himself from spoiling you. You turned him this way, and he wasn’t complaining one bit. 
Right now, you wanted to run away so bad. But, the way Coach Toji was looking at you as if you were the greatest gift that has ever happened to him, successfully changed your mind. The way his gaze glistened with pride once he undressed you naked. His eyes observing every inch of your body with the smug smile on his face. His calloused hands reached for your thighs, circling both of them with his hands. 
“So fucking tempting,” he grunted in his deep raspy voice. “How could I not love this sight?”  
Coach Toji continued to taunt you as your body squirmed underneath him. He couldn’t let himself be patient any longer. The man ensured you were watching him the moment he spat on your cunt, and you shivered feeling the warmth of the liquid. 
You felt a long lick along your folds, back arched against the couch with your eyes shut. A burning sensation electrified your whole body. This feeling made you feel like you were a brand new woman. Nothing ever felt like Coach Toji’s tongue, not even your exes. Is this because he’s far more experienced? But, God, was it so good that you almost cried that night. 
Coach Toji threw a look at you, eyes shut closed — not daring to meet his eyes. Cute. 
His tongue sucked and nibbled on your folds before it moved to your clit. A cry escaped past your lips as he sucked hard on the bundle of nerves. Your instant reflex was to tug on his hair and he was pissed off. But, he fucking loved the way you pulled on his hair when he was devouring you like this. So precious for him. And obedient too. He would do anything just to have you in his home again. 
“Ah! Please!” You cried out after trying so hard to keep your noises to yourself. You were panting heavily, eyes finally met the man’s piercing gaze staring up at you. The scar on his lips lifted as a smirk plastered across his face, daunting you with mischief. 
Coach Toji went back up, towering you once again. “Please what, doll? Use your big girl words. You’re a smart girl. Try harder.” 
Your heart almost jumped out of your chest at his words. “Please… give me more, sir,” the word ‘sir’ hung in the air. Only Coach Toji’s steady breathing accompanied the silence. His blood rushed to his already half hard cock at the name you just called him. This might be the first time he is affected by the sound of your voice. 
“Give you what?” Coach Toji smirked. 
You gulped, your throat burned at throwing the words out of your mouth. Before you spoke, your breath hitched, stopping you to form coherent sentences. “Please use your cock on me, sir,” your lips trembled once you spat the words out loud. Loud enough for him to hear you. 
“Good. That’s what I thought,” he sighed. “Let me stretch you out before I use my cock on you, hm, doll?” 
That statement gave you chills. You peeked at his fingers. The girth of his fingers made it hard for you to breathe. It’s gonna burn, for sure. Coach Toji commanded you to look at him. You got scared of his stern voice. With nervousness coiling your stomach, you kept your eyes on Coach Toji, paying attention to every one of his acts. 
He brought two of his fingers to his lips, wetting them in his mouth. Saliva coating his two fingers right after, followed by a loud pop sound. “Tell me if it hurts,” he muttered under his breath. Your back arched once again once you felt his two fingers slid so easily inside your cunt, penetrating the tight walls with its girth. Once his thumb found your clit, you felt this swirling feeling inside of your stomach. The circular motion got your head spinning and panting for more. 
Coach Toji watched your breasts bounce up and down with an awe smirk plastered across his face. Your eyes shut closed, hands clutching on the couch. Feeling his lust got the best of him, his mouth then covered one of your nipples and gave them a hard suck. Your breath hitched again before letting out audible moans. 
The squelching noises that filled his living room echoed in the back of your mind. Your moans and his grunts mixed all together. “C-coach, wait, wait,” you paused. 
His eyebrows furrowed when you called out for him. But, he didn’t pull his fingers out and kept his steady pace. Your face washed with pleasure and struggled to get the words out. 
“Wh-what about your girlfriend?” You finally uttered the question you have been meaning to ask before this happened. His girlfriend would kill you if she found out that her boyfriend is secretly screwing his student behind her back. 
“She is not my girlfriend,” he asserted. Coach Toji met your gaze, “Don’t worry about a fucking thing. You are mine tonight.” He dared to say that with his two fingers languidly stroking your insides, abusing your tight walls with pleasurable pain. 
You moaned once again, climax almost washed all over you. Coach Toji bit on his inner cheeks, grunting as he drew firm circles on your clit, flicking the sensitive bud to give you the orgasm that you never had before him. And when it hit, you found yourself screamed in a high-pitched scream as you had your first orgasm. You were gasping for air but Coach Toji covered your mouth with his addictive kiss. 
His sexy lips nibbled on your lower lip, softly sucking on your plump lip before he terrorised your mouth. As his one hand cupped your jaw, the other free hand rashly undid his pants and his briefs. Once he undressed himself, he let out a groan after breaking the kiss. He never wanted to let go of your lips at that moment. 
You looked down at his throbbing cock in his hand. The length and the girth gave you a second thought. 
Will it fit? 
Will it hurt? 
It’s terrifying enough just at the glance of his dick. 
“Bend your legs for me, love,” he murmured. When you did, he wasn’t satisfied. So, Coach Toji took the matter into his own hands and bent your legs as far as you could. You hissed in pain but surprisingly, he kissed the pain away. 
Coach Toji sighed the moment the warmth of your slick touched his cock. He slid his length along your folds, just rubbing it back and forth, tormenting you with hasty moves. You winced because of the sensitivity after coming down from your high. 
“It’s- it’s sensitive,” you cried a plea.
Coach Toji held your thighs open before he buried his cock inside you. God, it was so warm and he almost lost his mind that night. Your walls were squeezing around his tip so tight. He slowly bottomed out but that only made you cry louder. It was painful but in a good way. The pain was minimal because you were already stretched out by his fingers earlier. 
His head was thrown back once his length was fully inside you. Slowly, he rocked his hips to set his pace. You sobbed back a tear, watching his cock sliding in and out of you. Indescribable feelings clouded your mind, disabling you to form coherent sentences. His stroke was so damn good, you were sure you almost wished tonight to never come to its end. 
Your legs kept on closing against your will because of the building climax. Coach Toji grunted under his breath as his frustration grew from keeping your legs open. 
“You need to be more flexible, doll,” he hissed. “Your legs need to be stretched out more.”
Whatever he said didn’t make sense to you when he got you all speechless. You let him belittled you and all he ever received was a bunch of whines and cries. Coach Toji watched every single of your facial expressions as his cock hit every sensitive spot inside your inviting cunt. 
“Fuck, I already love your pussy, baby,” Coach Toji groaned before giving another thrust that gave you a loud moan. “I am not changing my mind about your pussy,” his minty breath hovered in the corner of your lips. His tongue slid into your mouth, his bare hand fondling and pinching on your hardened nipples. 
His pace was ruthless, leaving your tongue tied. You were sure it was going to leave you limping the following day. Coach Toji wrapped your legs around his waist, pounding into you so hard. You were nothing but tears and snots in the comfort of his living room. He introduced all sorts of new unlocked feelings that night. But, you couldn’t help thinking of the consequences of tonight’s event tomorrow and the day after. What will happen between the both of you? What if someone finds out?  How are you going to look at him in the eyes during practice? How’s your future going to look like? Are you just another one of his fucktoy? 
The overthinking collides with your urge to come around his cock for the second time. And he gave it to you willingly. The high that you never expected you’d experience in your lifetime. Truly, Coach Toji knows how to fuck. It leaves you wondering if he makes love just as good as he fucks. 
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chimcess · 10 months
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A Picture’s Worth || jjk (I)
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Pairings: Jungkook x Reader Other Tags: Ex-Art Thief!Reader, Ex-Assassin!Reader, Ex-Gang member!Reader, Gang member!Jungkook, Assassin!Jungkook, Hitman!Jungkook, Thief!Jungkook Genre: Strangers to lovers, gang AU, mafia AU, Fluff, Angst, Smut     Word Count: 23.2k+ Summary: After pulling off the largest art heist of her career, Y/N has put that life behind her. However, after 4 years out of the business, she comes home to find a stranger in her house. Warnings: violence, blood, gang activity, mafia activity, mentions of death, actual death, crime, robberies, pickpocketing, graphic depictions of injuries, guns, knives, mentions of past torture, body branding (not too graphic), major character(s) injured, STRONG LANGUAGE, Gang tattoos, Abuse (not JK and Reader), JK is a bit of a himbo, but only with his friends, he’s actually quite scary, I’m not a gang member or anything so I could be wrong about that stuff, I tried my best, eventual smut, mutual pining, kissing (let me know if I missing anything) Author’s Note:Things were getting out of hand, so I made the executive decision to split this into two parts. This one is establishing plot so no smut (yet). Thanks so much for reading. She’s a big girl.
Listen to the Playlist || cross posted to ao3: here
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Five years ago
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There comes a point in a child’s life that they begin to ponder over what they will become. Some girls I knew dreamt of becoming lawyers, doctors, or astronauts. I remember there being a time when I had thought of more than the mountains I had lived in, possibly moving to California and starting my life over after I was finished with school. I had even played with the idea of owning a salon. I hoped that I would be pretty when I grew up with bright red hair just like Ariel. It was strange looking back on that time and how little had truly changed. 
While I had, in some ways, deviated from the life my family had wanted for me, I was still lurking in the shadows and biding my time. Instead of hiring me for hits, the players I worked for enjoyed the finer things in life. Patrons of the arts if you will. Staring up at the Rembrandt painting, it was not a wonder as to why.
Looking over my shoulder, I was relieved to see Hoseok in position. Locking eyes momentarily, I gave him a small, polite smile and returned to the painting in front of me. To the security cameras, we were simply two strangers who had a small moment in time. I knew that we were trying to use signals as much as we could without looking suspicious. A smile normally meant that I was confident I could pull this off. Hoseok’s returning nod was his way of saying he was happy with his own assessments.
The heist would take a few more weeks to plan out. Our buyer wanted 18 different art pieces from this museum, something that was doable with our team, as well as 38 pieces of jewelry. Taehyung and Jimin would be in charge of the operation. Walking away from the Rambrandt, I looked over other pieces with the same intensity to not raise suspicions. While the cameras here were not of great quality, they could still see us and that alone was enough to bother me. 
Stealing has always come naturally to me. Second nature. When I was young I pickpocketed, the artform far more refined now that I was much older, and my parents enjoyed how sneaky I could be when I wanted to be. We never stayed anywhere for too long, the last place I had seen them was Aspen six years ago, but my favorite years were London. The Underground was a perfect place to pickpocket. In a day I could swipe over 100 items and no one would be the wiser.
My tastes changed as I grew. There was a time when I hated the idea of being a criminal like my parents were. I disdain violence at the best of times, but there were very few ways of getting out unscathed. It was when I managed to steal jewels from a heavily secured store that I caught the eyes of The Saints. Hoseok was impressed by my attention to detail and offered me a way to get out of my family home. I was sixteen and impulsive. A little over ten years later I was still standing here, pickpocketing the wealthy and giving it to those just as fortunate. It had stopped bothering me years ago, the guilt, but there was always a piece of me that longed for those far away dreams of cutting hair. It almost made me laugh just thinking about it.
“It’s a beautiful painting, isn’t it?” A soft voice asked, suddenly beside me.
Turning, I was confronted with a familiar face. Yoongi hardly changed, his set lips and keen eyes unwavering. There was a long, jagged scar that ran down his forehead, over his eye, and down his cheek. He got the scar when he was still in the Irish Mob back in Boston. He was an earner with those boys and they gave him hell about leaving. Still, he had managed to walk away only to join a different side of organized crime.
“Yes, but not really to my taste,” I joked.
I had never been the biggest fan of abstract work. I liked it a great deal more than landscapes, it was at least interesting to look at, but the lack of effort had bothered me. It would never take off anyway. No one liked over priced paint splatters. Yoongi hummed.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it.”
Taking the cue, I stood as he walked off and began counting back from 500 in my head. Everyone would be heading back to the command now. Everything had been squared away for now. Taking one more passing glance at the Rembrandt, I sighed. Hopefully, when this is all done, I could walk away.
With my head held high, I slowly drifted toward the exit. Taking the time to look over art was another great way to cover my tracks. In order to stay a nobody, I had to be a nobody, and only a nobody would stop to look at a still-life of a bowl of fruit. I never did understand why these things were popular. Then, finally, after five more minutes of “ooo”ing an “ahh”ing at pieces I’ve seen every week for the last month, I was out of the door.
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Three years ago
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Blinking, I stood motionless as I stared at the cracks in the little apartment’s ceilings. It had been a difficult find, something so cheap in San Diego was a steal even if it was only 300 square feet. Smiling, I threw my duffel bag of belongings onto the futon I had brought earlier that day. Finally, things were going to start looking up.
I had flown in from Kansas the week prior and had made the most of cheap motel rooms until I scored this place. I had always loved California and finally I had made it home. Looking around, I found I was not as upset by the lack of space or functioning stove. In fact, it had been the lightest I had felt in a very long time. Only second to when I graduated from Aveda last fall.
Deciding to pick up what little boxes I had with me, I broke them down and tore them into strips that were easily thrown away. I was lucky the place had come with a small, countertop fridge and microwave. The only sink was in the bathroom, a room that was floor-to-ceiling covered in tile with a toilet, small sink, and a shower head. I would have to wear flip flops just in case. The landlord had recommended using a bucket since the hot water only lasted for about 10 minutes.
I did not have much. I had gotten into the habit of packing light and living even lighter, but I was determined to try this differently. I’ve gotten what I have always wanted and I was going to let anyone, or anything, take it away from me. Going to my duffel bag, I began packing out my folded clothes and organizing them into different piles before putting them away. I had bought a tall, skinny wardrobe at the same GoodWill I had gotten the futon from. 
Calling out to my phone, I asked Siri to play some music and got to work. I hated silence. Using the small drawers on the left side, I stuffed my underwear and pajamas on that side of the wardrobe. The right side was meant to hang nice things on, but I did not own nice things anymore. Instead hung were two pairs of jeans, a few dresses, and some shirts. I only owned black now. It was the dress code for every salon I had ever worked at- including the newest one. My shoes went on the shelves above the drawers and I made a mental note to buy a better pair of sneakers. I wanted to get outside more often.
Putting away the rest of my things was just as quick. My makeup was stored away on the desk that was attached to the wall beside the fridge. It was meant to be a dining area, but I doubted I would ever have company over to make use of it. My few skincare products were safely stored away in the bathroom mirror, and my kit was under my bed for safe keeping. I was suddenly acutely aware of just how sad everything truly was.
“Well,” I mumbled to myself. “Hopefully I can get enough clientele to get out of this shithole.”
At least, I thought to myself, at least I was free. 
With that in mind, I grabbed my keys and headed out into the city. It had been hours since I last stopped for anything and I would have no luck here for the night. Slipping into the hallway, I realized that I was happy. For the first time in a while I felt unadulterated. Things were going to be fine.
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Two years ago
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Clutching the pizza box with one hand and balancing it on my hip, I cradle my phone with my shoulder as I open the door to my building.
“The earliest I’ll be available is Thursday,” I said, my voice sickeningly sweet.
The customer, Jules, cheerfully asked if I had any availability on Sunday instead. Rolling my eyes, I reminded her that the salon was closed on both Sunday and Monday. This would be the third time I had to repeat myself.
“What about Saturday?” She asked, still as clueless as she had been since I had picked up.
“I’m free from 2pm until 3pm, but if you want a haircut and balayage I will need longer than an hour.”
“How long do you need?” Finally, I heard a hint of frustration slipping through her otherwise cheery voice.
“If you want the full layered balayage it can take up to three hours for hair as long as yours is. It can be shorter if you just want a partial- between 45 minutes to an hour and a half.”
Huffing up the stairs, I struggled to open the door to my floor and used my foot to keep it open while I awkwardly hobbled. Rolling my eyes, I wanted to pull my hair out. This would be the fourth time now.
“I can put you in Thursday morning from 8am until noon. I can also do Friday from 5pm until 8pm. I’m not available again until the following Wednesday.”
Jules hummed, unable to stay silent I found. We had been on the phone for twenty five minutes and I was beginning to get a migraine. She was sweet, and I appreciated her never ending patience, but I was not blessed with the same superpower. I had never been known for my temperament or politeness. I only had patience when money was involved. Shoving my door open with my shoulder, I willed those thoughts away. That was the last thing I needed to think about right now.
Jules was going to make me go rob a fucking bank at this rate. Banks weren’t even my thing. That brought a smile to my face and I put the pizza down on the single counter I had in the kitchen. 
“I guess Thursday will work then. I was just hoping to get it done before my birthday.”
Pausing, I sighed heavily. Wonderful. She was a guilt tripper. Little shit.
“What day is your birthday?” I asked.
“Oh! It’s Tuesday. My girls and I are going to the Cheesecake Factory to celebrate.”
And despite my better judgment, I opened my calendar and began looking at my schedule on Tuesday. Knowing I had taken the bait hook, line, and sinker, I just went right out with it. 
“We can try something if you’re open to it.”
“Sure, what’s up?” Jules asked, voice perking up.
“I can give you a partial balayage Tuesday and then you can come back Thursday to finish the rest if you want to after seeing the results.”
Jules squealed and began talking very quickly, her excitement palpable. I cringed away from the speaker of my phone.
“That would be Ah-mazing! What time on Tuesday could you see me?”
“I had a cancellation first thing in the morning. I’m free from 8am until 9:45. We’ll get as much as we can during that time.”
“Oh! I can definitely make that. Can we do the haircut on Tuesday instead of Thursday?”
Biting my tongue, I had to stop the smart ass comment I wanted to make from coming out. She was obviously very young or had little experience going to a salon. Still, it’s common sense that we would cut first. I’m not wasting products like that.
“That’s what I was thinking, too,” I settled on.
“Thanks so much, Y/N! See you Tuesday!”
“See you then, Jules. Before you go, can I get some information from you so I can put you down properly?”
After getting her full name, phone number, and email address, I let her go and logged into the salon’s appointment system to add her in. Our receptionist had quit two months ago and we were having a hard time finding a replacement. I tried to tell Tony he needed to raise the pay but he was not budging. Right now we were all stuck keeping track of everything ourselves. 
The pizza was not very hot anymore but was warm enough to not be too bothersome. Happy to have some extra money coming in, I went to the fridge and grabbed a soda from it. I bought a small cart to put my microwave on. The mini fridge just happened to fit perfectly below it. The small Keurig I bought myself for Black Friday was right beside the microwave. A snug fit but it worked. Taking a bite of the pizza, I leaned against the counter and groaned.
I was so happy to be home.
Home. It was a word I was still hesitant to say. It was hard to believe things were permanent even after all this time. Some nights I stared up at the ceiling and waited for a knock on my door. Even if Hoseok promised emergencies only it was difficult to know what the guys would consider an emergency. That world was so far removed from this new reality of mine that I feared I was losing my edge. Would I even be able to help them anymore? 
With doubt and a recurring nightmare, I fell asleep and dreamt of casinos and Rembrandt.
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One year later
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Sweeping up the floor, I glanced around the room to find myself alone. 
“Great,” I huffed. “I’m going to have to talk to Tony about this bullshit.”
It had been the third time the new hire, Sasha, had left without helping with cleanup. First he snuck out of the back when he was helping Tiesha, and the last two times had been with me. While we tried to keep the boss out of the personal issues we had at the shop, I was not about to let some 19-year-old walk around like he’s above it all. Angrily, I kept sweeping and hoped that the bastard got stuck in the worst traffic getting back on the I-5. 
Walking over to Andrea’s station, I rolled my eyes. She always forgot to put her combs in the sterilizing solution. Making quick work of that, I went around checking everyone’s stations to be sure it was all in order. Even Sasha’s. His desk was immaculately cleaned and I gritted my teeth harder. Seems like he’s one of those people. Feeling petty, I skipped sweeping under his vanity and kept going. Not like it made much of a difference anyway. Maybe I should steal his wallet tomorrow and help him look for it.
Fucking idiot.
No, I scolded myself. I am not that person anymore. I would definitely not go back to that lifestyle for Alexander Ivanov. Reminding myself that he was just a spoiled little brat, I continued sweeping hoping it would calm me down long enough to clear my head. If I let any of those ideas foster that would be bad. I’d have every valuable item that boy owned by lunch.
Suddenly the front desk phone began to ring and I chose to ignore it. It was five minutes after closing time and I did not feel like dealing with anyone else today. Sasha had pissed me off enough. I did not want some snotty customer adding to it. The ringing stopped and I was satisfied that they simply left a voicemail. 
Turning to go back to the staff room to gather the Swiffer, I was stopped in my tracks by the phone. A part of me wanted to answer it now. It had to be the same person. Still, I was off the clock and that was not a part of my job description. Destiny would handle it in the morning. The ringing stopped. I started walking. It started up again.
Peeved but resigned, I walked to the front desk and checked the number flashing on the screen. It was from out of state. Figures. Usually clients who wanted to come in on vacation called without realizing the time zone difference. Forcing a smile to my face, I picked up.
“Mane Street, this is Y/N speaking. How can I help you?”
“Ten minutes.” The line died.
I knew that voice from anywhere. Shaking, I placed the phone back on its modem and took a second to gather myself. Whatever the emergency was, I only had ten minutes to finish cleaning and get outside. Knowing Hoseok, he would be waiting for me near my car. Better yet, he’d already be in the passenger seat.
Scrambling, I began to mop the floors and Windex the mirrors. I refused to let this unexpected visit stop me from performing my job. I was happy Sasha had left. I probably looked like I’d seen a ghost. You have definitely heard one, my subconscious screamed.
I was locked up eight minutes later. I had been keeping count in my head just as I always had before. It was unsettling just how quickly I had transformed back into the person I had once been. Who was I fooling? I’ve been covering her up with scissors, a shitty studio apartment, and take out. That did not change the overseas accounts, fake names, and stolen jewelry I’ve kept. That doesn’t change the stolen art hanging on my walls.
Rounding the back of the store, I was not surprised to see my vehicle was the only one still there. Squinting, I could see the silhouette of a person’s head in the passenger side. The street light just in front of the pickup was facing the front, their side profile obscured by the light, but I would recognize Hoseok anywhere. He was hard but soft, jagged but gentle, and most importantly, his face was oval with a pointed chin. Anxiety bubbling in my stomach, I put on a brave face and marched forward. I would be right on time.
Hoseok did not say a word as I slid into the driver’s seat or when I closed the door. Not waiting for him to make a demand, I started the engine and turned on the AC. It was stuffy. Hoseok continued to look straight while I buckled my seatbelt and put the truck in reverse.
“Don’t go home,” He finally said.
Dread filled my stomach but I did as he said. Instead of turning left, I went right and headed for the little diner I enjoyed getting a late dinner at. It was the best place for steak and eggs. I was not sure if Hoseok would be hungry but I did not care. We never really thought about those things before.
“I’m glad to see you’re doing what you like,” He spoke again, his voice still gentle. “You look very nice, too. Like the new hair.”
I was always unnerved by this side of Hoseok. He was typically a very loud, energetic, and passionate man. Soft spoken and Hoseok had never gone together. Then again, it had been almost five years since I had seen him. A lot could change within that time. That, or whatever he was going to tell me would require softness. I hoped it was just a personality change from getting older. 
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m glad to see you’re healthy.”
Finally, he cracked a smile. “Hadn’t realized you thought about me at all.”
I scoffed, “Of course I think about you. I think about all of you very often.”
This seemed to throw him for a loop. It was weird to speak so openly about my feelings. We had always gone about life with coldness. Being sharp and intense was the only way to survive out there. If anyone saw you as weak or vulnerable then you were finished. That was why Yoongi usually acted as a middle man. He was the hardest, coldest, most impenetrable wall there ever was. Just looking into his eyes you could see that. Shivering, I recalled the time he killed a man with a set of chopsticks while we were in Korea. 
“We think about you, too,” Hoseok said, sounding far away.
Turning into the diner’s parking lot, I turned off the engine and got out. Hoseok followed closely behind me and I asked him if he wanted anything.
“I hear the steak and eggs are nice,” He commented, eyes downcasted.
“Is Taehyung keeping tabs on me?” I sneered, anxiety turning into anger.
Taehyung was the tech guy when he wasn’t stealing jewels. He was also a royal pain in the ass who never knew when to cool it. He had been the most upset when he heard that I was leaving the crew and I would not put it past him. Taehyung was just that kind of guy. The gesture was kind, I was certain of that, and came from a place of love. Still, I had asked to be left alone. It seemed like no one really accepted that.
“I tried to stop it but it’s impossible to keep track of everything he does,” Hoseok admitted. “After a while we just accepted the fact that he wouldn’t give it up. He is trying to check in less and less, though. He’s just worried someone will come around and we won’t know about it.”
“And that’s how you knew where I worked?”
Holding the door open, Hoseok thanked me before going inside. Doris smiled at me when I walked inside. She was an elderly woman who liked to help me with my Sudoku puzzles on Sunday mornings. Eyeing Hoseok curiously, I waved at her before finding an open booth. I normally sat at the bar but I did not want prying eyes. Doris would not go away if we sat there and Hoseok was obviously wanting privacy.
“Hey sugar,” Dixie, a waitress from Alabama, greeted us.
She put down two menus and asked us what we wanted to drink. Hoseok ordered a coffee while I got a glass of chocolate milk. The man looked me up and down, amusement coloring every one of his features. I waved him off and looked at the menu. If he ordered steak and eggs I would order something else. Hoseok was a big fan of sharing food even if we both had our own portions.
Hoseok, like many of the guys from the crew, was South Korean. He was born in Gwangju, a city in the southern part of the country, and moved to the US with his friend Namjoon during university. Namjoon went on to become a campaign manager in New York City while Hoseok became an associate of the Gambino family after killing a few guys. Over time the two went their separate ways, but Hoseok always spoke fondly of him. Last he heard, Namjoon had moved to Seoul and was working at the Blue House.
“You all figured out what you want?” Dixie asked, reappearing with our drinks.
Hoseok ordered the steak and eggs while I got their “Rising Roadhouse'' meal. It came with waffles and I knew that would make Hoseok happy. When we were alone again, Hoseok sighed.
“It’s Jimin,” He said.
Bracing myself, I leaned in closer so we could speak quietly. The diner was almost empty at this time of night and I was nervous. This was shit no one needed to hear about. Hoseok got closer to me.
“What’s going on?” I demanded, whispering harshly.
“He’s gotten into some shit with Winter Hill again. Yoongi bailed him out but things are going to shit. They want us to get some things for them to make up for it. We weren’t sure where to go, and Georgie was very specific.”
I breathed through my nose. Jimin was my closest friend during my time with the crew. We thought the most alike, worked the best, and trusted one another. However, we were also hot heads. I had worked on myself tremendously over the years, but Jimin had the worst kind of anger. Talking out the mouth. And to talk to somebody in Winter Hill the way I assumed he had? Jimin was asking to lose a finger. That’s if he hadn’t already. Looking at Hoseok, he seemed to know what question I had on my mind.
“Yoongi made him cut the first joint off. I told him to write an apology letter in blood. I also sent the boss the piece in a medicine jar. Just to be sure.”
Grimacing, I rubbed my forehead. I had almost forgotten the way they do things in the mafia. The letter in blood, however, seemed more of a New York thing. I’d have to get clarification on that later. Leaning back in my chair, I shook my head.
“Unbelievable,” I mumbled absentmindedly.
On one hand, I was very angry that either of them would humiliate Jimin like that. On the other hand, I knew that the boy had put them in a very, very fucked up spot. Either they make amends and punish him or they lose the entire East Coast. If Boston doesn’t want anything to do with them, New York will become weary as well. Even if Hoseok was a Red Pull at one time, he is still an outsider. He was still just an associate. 
“What is he looking for?” I finally asked, leaning back in.
“Jewelry. Said they wanted something ‘your old girl’ would like. Said you’d know what to do.”
I smirked. Georgie Boy had always been impressed with my taste. Still, I was not sure about getting involved with all of this. In order to do so would mean helping them stake out a place and I was not going there. I had made my peace. Still, I could not help the part of me that felt excited. I squashed it like a bug.
“I’m not helping you with anything,” I said.
“I’m not asking you to,” He replied. “Just tell us if you’ve seen anything noteworthy lately.”
Dixie came back with our food and I used it as a distraction. I needed time to think. Hoseok and I ate off of one another and I continued to sit and ponder over the new things I had seen at the museum in town. I had gone many times, I had always tried to desensitize myself to the feeling I got when I walked in, but each time I looked around. I knew where every single camera was, I knew how to get into the back, and I was familiar enough with the security system to work around it. Every detail of a heist had already formed in my head that I refused to act on. Just as I knew every museum all the way up to Orange County. There were quite a few jewelers that had caught my eye as well. Still, I knew my answer after a few minutes of silence.
“His daughter’s birthday is soon, isn’t it?” I clarified, making sure my memory serves me well.
“In a few weeks,” Hoseok nodded.
“There’s a pair of earrings at Beverly Hills Jewelers,” I started. “They’re 2 carat, T.W, diamonds. They’re heart shaped. Halo. They’re beautiful.”
“Price?”
“I believe $15,000. They have some nice tennis chains as well that could match.”
He hummed, “I don’t know if it’ll be enough.”
I nodded, “I’ll include a personalized letter as well as a ring from my own collection if that helps.”
Hoseok smiled brightly at me. I knew that had pleased him. Georgie Boy would also be happy. His little girl gets some nice gifts and he gets to wave his dick around like the narcissist is is. In my head, I was already trying to remember the layout of the store. I had only gone inside twice when I took a trip to Beverly Hills. I was having a rough day and I wanted to get back in my element for a while. Scoping out places was always a relaxing thing for me to do. I ended up buying a necklace while I was there so they wouldn’t become suspicious of me. Still, I would have to see it again and show the guys what I was talking about so they could do the hit. That place was heavily secured.
“Thanks, Y/N,” Hoseok said, pushing the last piece of steak closer to me.
Grinning at him I replied, “It was an emergency.”
And then I popped the steak in my mouth and savored the taste. Just for now I would have a little bit of chaos. It would just be Hoseok and I, so that made the guilt lessen. At least this wasn’t something I would have to actually perform. Still, I thought to myself, I was incredibly bored without the little bit of chaos I had before.
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Present
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Laughing, I cut another piece of brown hair off. Jules stared at me, her hands covering her mouth, while she shook. She was a regular now, always got the same treatment, but when she called about her appointment last week she asked for a bob. Well, giving it to her, it was difficult to imagine just how upset she would become.
Her mother had recently been diagnosed with cancer and she wanted to show her that she was standing with her. The chemo had made chunks fall out and her mother decided to buzz her head. I had been the person to do that and give her a pamphlet of local stores she could go to and buy nice wigs. Jules, however, had called me late and said she wanted to donate her own hair for her mom. Tony had recently registered the salon with Locks of Love and trained us all in it. Sasha had been the most excited about the prospect. His mother had died from cancer when he was in highschool. 
Jules’s hair was thick, dark brown, and wavy. Everything about it was perfect and she was a dream to work with. She always took things in stride and tipped well. Today, I was worried if she would ever come back. 
Her hair was long enough that we could keep it at her shoulders. She had always kept it past her butt, just barely grazing her upper thighs, and took pride in it. I was still planning to give her plenty of highlights and a blowout- on the house. I had nothing but love for the girl and I knew how difficult this would be for her. Glancing at Tiesha, she smiled.
“Girl, what are you crying for?” She joked, parting another section of her client’s hair.
I recognized her but was not sure of her name. She always came in for installations or silk presses. Tiesha was always happy to see her, at the very least, so I knew she was a nice enough person. 
“I don’t know,” Jules whined back, sniffling and rubbing her reddening eyes.
“Now, you are too damn pretty to be looking like that,” She replied, braiding back another section. “Make an appointment with momma and I’ll hook you up.”
I scoffed, “I can do extensions, too.”
“Oh, I know. But you’re most definitely a colorist. Julie, baby, Ty will take good care of you, okay?”
“Your mom will be very happy,” Sasha chimed in, his Russian accent thick. 
Jules nodded, “Yeah, she will.”
I smiled to myself. That was the best motivator to get through this. I kept as much length as I could and I was still going to try to make her feel pretty with the new style. She had said her friends were excited but her boyfriend was conflicted. He loved her hair. That made me frown. Who the fuck says that to their girlfriend? Especially one who’s doing it for their sick mother.
“I’ve never gone this short before,” Jules said, her composure coming back. “It’s scary.”
“Don’t worry,” Sasha soothed, cleaning up from his last client. “You’ve got the best in the house. Y/N’ll take care of you.”
I winked at the boy. Sasha had grown on me considerably since he was first hired. I had not gone to Tony about his skipping after all, instead I cornered him at work and told him if he ever ditched me again I would get him fired. We were rocky after that but I knew his respect for me had gone up. A friendship blossomed when he confessed he was clueless about doing color. Sasha was an amazing stylist and his precion was otherworldly, but Destiny was right to never give him color clients. I spent a few nights helping him practice on some mannequin heads and he followed me around like a puppy. He had even agreed to clean up alone for two nights while I was in Beverly Hills helping Hoseok scope out the place. We were thick as thieves after that.
“I know that,” Jules cracked a smile. “She always takes care of me.”
“I’m flattered,” I finally said. “Don’t worry, I’ve got plans for you.”
Her smile grew. Jules had been very excited about free coloring. I had told her I was giving myself free reign, and I wondered if she thought I was going to go manic pixie on her. Hopefully some lowlights and babylights would suffice. We had never gone darker before and I thought it would suit the new cut well. 
Cutting in her layers, I was happy with how it looked. Her hair framed her face nicely and she would still have enough length to play around with it if she wanted. Jules was a fan of those half-up, half-down looks. Using my comb, I ran through her hair and cut. So far, she had not looked back at the mirror. She seemed nervous too. 
“Do you want me to cut your bangs blunt or keep them split?” I asked.
Jules perked up, “Oh! I was actually thinking about trying a new bang style.”
I nodded, “Do you have a picture?”
She opened her gallery and pulled it up. I smiled to myself. Jameela Jamil really did pull off the schoolgirl bangs. 
“So in between?” I walked around so she was facing me. 
“Do you think it’ll look nice?” She asked, chewing her bottom lip.
I studied her face for a moment. 
“You’ll look great, but it might take some time to get used to. They’re a bit more maintenance than blunt or curtain.”
She smiled, “I figured that.”
Working quietly, I began to trim her bangs into the correct shape. They will look their best after I finish styling the rest of her hair. Jules loved it when I straightened her hair after our visits. She never had the patience for it at home and it made her feel special when she got it done here. I would have to let her know that her bangs will look pretty if she curled the longer side pieces to blend them in with her natural waves. With the cutting done, it was time to start the lowlights.
“When is your next appointment?” I asked Sasha.
He was sitting in his chair and texting someone on his phone. He glanced at me before getting back to his screen.
“About twenty minutes. He’s new.”
“Oh, a man?” Tiesha dramatically emphasized the man part. It was not often that men booked with us. Sasha had gone to barber school and did amazing work, but for some reason the idea of going to a salon bothered most men. “He from out of town?”
“I think so,” The Russian nodded. “He definitely sounded foreign. I couldn’t tell where from. Maybe Asia?”
I froze for a moment. I took a breath. There was absolutely no way that any of them would do that. Then I thought of Taehyung. Absolutely not, I scolded myself. That boy feared me more than anybody else. I would ring him by his neck and then let Yoongi know about it. Besides, I said emergencies only. They would have scheduled with me if they were trying to talk. Walking back to my chair, I placed the dye and bleach down on the metal tray next to me. Opening one of the drawers at my desk, I grabbed some latex gloves and foil.
Getting started was simple. Getting the brown, I began painting sections of her hair and foiling them. The foil was not really necessary, but I always got nervous that the parts I did not want colored would get touched. Lowlights were more sparsely added, and unlike highlights, never layers. Making my way around her head, I was excited to see if she would like it. I only went a shade darker than her natural color, so the color contrast was not extremely stark. The highlights were the most important part of the look.
Foiling the last piece of hair, I took the bowl to the sink near the back as well as the brush I was using. Tossing them in and removing my gloves, I heard the bell chime and Sasha’s customer service voice begin. No one could beat Tiesha’s, that woman had client relationships like no one I had ever met. They adored her.
“Come sit and we can get started,” Sasha seemed more excited than usual.
I guessed the guy wanted something a bit different from his normal caseload.
“Alright,” I sighed, clapping my hands. “Let's get this bleach started.”
Walking back into the main room, I paid no mind to the customer sitting in Sasha’s chair. Jules was FaceTiming with someone and I grinned when I recognized her mom’s voice. She seemed very cheery today.
“Oh, I love that length on you,” Martha gushed, her accent only picking up on certain words.
“Gracias, mami,” Jules beamed. “Do you think Carlos will like it?”
Martha waved her hands around animatedly when she talked. I had learned that from the many times she came to the salon with Jules. Now, she was shaking them violently.
“Who cares?”
I laughed and got to work on her highlights. 
“I said the same thing,” I chimed.
The three of us talked as I worked. Martha always enjoyed asking me about the craziest customer of the week, and I usually indulge her. This week it had been a very convoluted, pastel rainbow color job. She wanted the top half white and the bottom portion colored. She booked out my entire day, gave me hell about every insignificant detail, and then left a $2 tip. Sasha got to hear me rant and rave about it when we were cleaning that night.
“She’s never allowed in my chair again,” I finished, setting a timer for everything. 
The lowlights had been sitting for twenty minutes while the babylights would need about 15 in order to develop the way I want them to. Thinking, I was certain the lowlights would be fine going two minutes over the usual time. They would be hardly noticeable regardless. 
“You’ve had worse,” Sasha pointed out.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “But those women tip well. I don’t care how rude you are- money is money. That chick is a pain in the ass without the benefits.”
“She has nothing on Kimberly,” Tiesha joked. 
I groaned, “God, don’t even put that name into the universe. She’s due back soon.”
Sasha laughed. “She does pay very well. Don’t blame you.”
“Who’s Kimberly?” Jules asked.
I gave Tiesha a look before answering her.
“She’s a regular. Tony was her go-to guy, but he’s only in twice a week and it doesn’t line up with her schedule. He sent her over to me. Let’s just say she takes picky to a new level.”
Jules snickered, “What does she like to get?”
“Usually a platinum blonde, layered cut. On paper it’s not the most difficult thing in the world, but she makes it much more complicated than it needs to be.”
“Complicated?” Tiesha exclaimed. “That woman is super rude, always late, and acts like she knows everything. I’d tell that bitch to kick rocks.”
Her client laughed out loud.
“That might be true,” I reasoned, checking the foils. “But, she always tips well and shouts me out on her socials. So, can I really complain? Besides, I’m used to her.”
Checking the foils again, I was happy with the color they were and decided to take the foils off early. Stopping my timer, I asked Jules to walk over to the rinsing station. I was happy this was my last client. Sweeping up the hair, I left it in the dustpan until I was ready to begin the tedious task of preparing it for donation. Putting on a new pair of gloves, I willed this day to be over already.
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I knew something was off when a new motorcycle was parked out front. Briefly checking the plates, I was even more weary when they were from Jersey. I knew far too many people in that corner of the US. Still, I told myself that it could be anybody. Perhaps one of my new neighbors was from Hobokan. That was highly unlikely, though. Eyeing the red leather jacket hanging from one of the handles, I only knew one person who owned something like that. I guess I will be seeing Jimin tonight. The thought bothered me far more than I thought it would.
Taking my time going up the stairs, I considered calling Hoseok and demanding to know why Park was sniffing around my apartment. I knew I should have moved out, should have tried something new, but the thought of leaving the only home I ever knew bothered me. Using the time climbing to my advantage, I slowly steeled myself. Jimin could smell weakness from a mile away. He was also one person who could convince me to do bad things.
The excitement that ran through me at the idea sickened me.
Starting at the 4 on the door, I braced myself. When I walked into that hallway all traces of the new me had to disappear. There can be no laughter, no crying, and no open hostility. I would have to be a blank slate. With one small breath, I pulled the door and went into the hall.
There wasn’t a body in sight, but I knew better than to go off of that. Jimin could get into my apartment with relative ease. No one would notice either. Everyone else that lived was too busy making ends meet to pay attention to the stranger sneaking into my house.
Taking my keys out of my purse, I unlocked the door and walked inside. I could smell him. It was, however, not Jimin. Jimin only wore Orange Blossom by Jo Malone. Whoever this was smelled like baby powder and flowers. My guard completely up now, I continued further into the studio and kicked the door closed behind me. Whoever it was, I knew had been standing behind the door. The smell was not as potent as it had been before. 
Going into the kitchen, I shrugged my coat off before throwing it behind me. I heard it hit something and it was a blur after that. I quickly snatched a kitchen knife from the drying rack and threw myself to the ground. The man grabbed my hands. Kicking his inner thigh, I rolled from underneath him and shot up. He threw his arms up.
“Stop!”
Ignoring him, I threw the knife. The man reacted quickly, catching the blade in between his hands before throwing it down on the floor. While he was distracted, I slid on the floor and grabbed the pistol from under my bed. Pointing it at the man, he rolled his eyes dramatically.
“What are you going to do? Shoot me?”
Without saying anything, I aimed for his left shoulder and fired. The silencer muzzled the shot, though the pop was still nasty. It worked better with a pillow added to the equation. I doubted any of my neighbors would notice the sound, however. The man shouted, stumbled back, and leaned against the fridge.
“You shot me,” He exclaimed, shocked.
“Who the fuck are you?” I barked, aimed for his other shoulder.
“You wait to ask me after you-”
I shot again. He gritted his teeth and sank to the floor. The wounds were leaking blood but I tried to not let it bother me. This guy broke into my house. This time, I aimed for his right knee.
“Who are you?” I asked again.
“Jungkook,” The man, Jungkook, answered. “I’m with The Saints.”
Lowering the barrel of the gun, I stared at him for a second. He was with my crew? Since when? 
“Who sent you?” I asked, aiming at his chest now.
If he was going to get found out, he might be more inclined to lunge before I could call anyone.
“Yoongi.”
Slowly, I reached into my back pocket and got my phone. I was relieved the screen hadn’t cracked during the outfall. Slowly, keeping my eyes on Jungkook, I started typing in the number I knew by heart. If he was lucky, Yoongi would pick up. If not, then we weren’t moving until someone did. After the second ring, a rough voice greeted me.
“August.”
Training my gun on his head, I spoke.
“There’s someone claiming they know you in my apartment.”
After a few seconds, Yoongi’s voice was hard when he replied.
“Who is it?”
“Says his name is Jungkook,” I replied evenly.
I was fully prepared to pull the trigger. Jungkook stared the barrel down without fear. I only hoped he would go down quickly and quietly. 
Yoongi sighed harshly, “Fucking Jimin.”
Gripping the handle tightly, I placed my finger on the trigger. I only needed the okay now.
“He’s fine,” Yoongi was annoyed. “I sent Jimin but I guess he got the kid to go instead.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, I put the gun down. Jungkook visibly relaxed then and moaned in pain. Raising a hand, he cradled his left shoulder and hissed in pain. 
“Fucked him up,” I admitted. “He was in my apartment when I got home.”
Yoongi hummed, “Take care of him. He’ll let you know what’s going on. We have a problem.”
He hung up before I could respond.
I hated when he did that. I had no idea who Jungkook was, or what he was here to tell me, but we were on the same team. And I just shot him. Twice. Putting the gun back in its original spot, I reached a little further behind it and retrieved my first aid kit. Jungkook sagged in relief. 
“Sorry,” I apologized, helping him take his shirt off. “Didn’t realize you were with us.”
Jungkook hissed when I applied alcohol to the wounds. It would take me a while to get his patched up, but I was capable of doing it. Years of friendship with The Saints would do that to you. Looking at Jungkook, I was taken aback by how attractive he was.
All of the Saints were good looking, but this guy had an aura about him. His hair was wild, pitch black, and down to his shoulders. His skin was gently tanned with small moles dotted sporadically across his body. What caught my attention the most was the shiny, silver lip ring he donned. That was an oddity in our world.
“My fault, shouldn’t have broken in without a warning,” He replied.
“I saw the bike outside and thought you were Jimin.”
He hummed then winced. I knew those bullets did not feel nice. Taking my time and trying to be gentle, I used a pair of tweezers to get them out. Jungkook bit his lip so hard he drew blood. 
“Yeah,” He breathed out. “Let me borrow it for the ride.”
“Park,” We both knew what I meant by that.
For the next hour we sat in silence. He let me work and I listened to every sharp intake of breath, groan, and moan. I felt guilty about everything, but I also had a certain level of apathy. The guy was nobody to me. Not really. Same crew doesn’t mean we’re friends. Still, if they sent him here then that meant they trusted him enough to come. That told me a lot about him.
After I placed gauze over the stitches, Jungkook finally spoke again.
“Jin hyung said you were harmless,” He chuckled. “I’ll let him know he’s wrong.”
Ignoring his comment, I went to find him something to wear. I doubted he would be able to fit any of my things. He was huge, a tall man with big arms, but I could make something work. Grabbing a loose fitting dress, I threw it to him.
“I don’t have anything for a man, so that will have to do.”
He nodded and put the dress on without complaint.
“I’ll pick up something for you later,” I continued. “Did you come alone?”
Jungkook shook his head, “Hyung’s around. He was going to come but an old friend called so he sent me.”
“Kai?” I wondered, already knowing the answer. 
Jimin and Kai were good friends. They had known one another since they were kids and got involved in crime together. I’d only met the guy in passing the few times he had visited Boston, but I was not very familiar with him. I knew he was a drug runner on the west coast but that was where my knowledge stopped.
“Yeah, said they had business or something.”
I hummed, “Would you like to lay down for a moment?”
Jungkook was very obviously in pain. He tried to deny it for a minute but ultimately took my offer. Going to the fridge, I pulled out a can of Ginger Ale and gave it to him. He accepted it readily.
“Sorry about the gun,” I offered, sitting on the floor. “Jin’s right. I’m usually pretty harmless. I didn’t even own a gun until I left The Saints.”
Jungkook shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. You weren’t expecting company.”
Opening my own drink, I eyed him. He was far too calm. My guess was this was not his first time being shot. Trying to find other wounds was pointless, however, he was too clothed. I hadn’t even thought to check when I was helping him earlier.
“Why’d you come inside anyway?” I asked.
Jungkook grinned ruefully.
“Hyung said he’d call you.”
That pulled a laugh out of me. Park probably forgot about it. For someone as dangerous as he was, he could be irresponsible. I remember when we were scoping a jewelry store together a few years back, Jimin had completely forgotten where the cameras were by the time we left. I had to go back myself a few days later to make sure his guesses were right. We had never let him live it down. Yoongi did not think it was very funny.
“Typical,” I said.
“Yeah.”
Jungkook’s eyes slipped closed. He was so completely at ease in my presence it was unnerving. Taking a sip of my drink, I looked at him in bewilderment. He was so much like Taehyung, trusting and easy going. It was difficult to imagine what role he played in the crew. He could have taken my place but I doubted he was as good. He had come here, hid behind my door, and then ambushed me. Then he was surprised when I acted like he was an enemy. Chuckling, I put my drink down. Yeah, just like Taehyung.
“What’s funny?” He asked, eyes still closed.
Wiping the smile off my face, I replied. “Just thinking.”
We did not talk again. I was sure Jungkook had dozed off, but he kept waking back up again. Getting up, I began looking for some pain medicine to no avail. I had not needed to put myself to sleep in a long time. Grabbing my keys from the floor, I told Jungkook I was heading out for a bit. I got no response. Patting myself down, I knew I did not have my phone and picked it up from beside the bed. Jungkook was lightly snoring.
Slipping from the room, I locked up and went downstairs. Typing in the last number I had for Jimin, I was not surprised that it was no longer in service. He changed phones like you change clothes. Deciding to call Taehyung, I went to my contacts to find him. He was the only person I saved.
“Hello?” His voice was deep and hoarse. 
Glancing at the time, I realized it was much later than I thought. 
“Sorry about the time,” I replied. “It’s Mouse.”
I heard shuffling on the other side. Taehyung had gotten himself a girlfriend, Jennie, and I was almost positive she was relatively clueless about his life. The last time I talked to Hoseok, he had said she thought he was a tech guy who was helping a start up. He must have been with her now if his silence was anything to go by.
“Sorry,” He said, voice low. “I’m not alone.”
“I just need Park’s number and you can get back to bed.”
Saying the numbers slowly, I typed them into my keypad as I made my way through the dark streets. 
“Thanks,” I stopped walking once I got to the gas station around the corner. “Get some sleep.”
“It was good to hear your voice,” He replied, more awake than he had been. “I’ll be seeing you.”
“Night, V.”
“Night, Mouse.”
Hanging up, I stuffed my phone into my back pocket and walked into the store. It was deserted except for the cashier. Giving me a stiff nod, I ignored the man before going to the back of the store and getting some bottled water. I never trusted the tap in the building. Afterwards, I got a bottle of Nyquil and Advil before going to the register.
“Let me get a pack of Marlboro Black Menthols,” I told the cashier.
Taking out my phone, I took my ID from the attached wallet as well as my debit card. The man held the pack of cigarettes and took my ID. Briefly looking it over, he scanned the barcode before scanning the cigarettes. Handing the ID back to me, he began scanning my other items before bagging them.
“Your total is $26.87.”
Nodding, I inserted my card and typed my pin. Putting my card back into the small wallet, I put my phone into my pocket and took the bag.
“Have a good night,” I said.
“You too,” He replied.
Leaving the store, I opened up my keypad and pressed the call button. Jimin picked up after four rings.
“Hello?” He answered, voice brightly and bubbly.
He always answered unknown numbers like that just in case. Jimin always prioritized having the upper hand over anything else. Anyone looking for Park would never connect him to the voice on the other side. I, however, was familiar enough with him to see through the facade.
“You got your boy hit,” I said, cutting right to the chase. “I had to give him a dress and Nyquil after popping two in him.”
Jimin laughed loudly, his fake voice gone. This was why we were friends. Our senses of humor were far too warped due to our upbringings. In another world we would have been enemies belonging to different clans, but I liked this timeline far more. Park was a great guy when you looked past the insecurities, anger issues, and tendency to seek violence.
“Jungkook’s wearing a dress?” He exclaimed, still laughing. “God, you have to take a picture for me.”
I rolled my eyes, “Explain why he’s here. I would ask him but I stepped out to get some medicine for him.”
Jimin’s laughter abruptly cut off. That feeling of dread returned. If Park was getting serious then that meant whatever the situation was must be more than I thought it would be. I was expecting them to need me to help them with a heist, but I was getting the feeling it might be more than that. Jimin sighed.
“I can’t get into specifics right now, but you need to get the fuck out of California.”
Going up the stairs of my complex, I paused. 
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re not safe here anymore.”
Growing angry, I shouted. “Enough with the cryptic messages, Park!”
Continuing to go up, I kept looking around every corner I went to. This was the worst fucking timing I could have had. Things were finally going well for me, I had friends and a job that I actually liked, and I had to give it all up again. Tears filling my eyes, I shoved open my door and slammed it behind me.
“I told you I can’t get into specifics, but there’s a reason I’m with Kai right now. You and Jungkook need to get out of that apartment as soon as possible. I don’t care where you go but you need to leave.”
Jungkook sprung up when I kicked the edge of my bed. Pointing to my phone, I mouth ‘Jimin.’ Getting on my knees, I pulled out my duffle bag from underneath the bed and threw it at the other man. He looked at me when he stood up. I noticed the way he winced and held up the bag in my hand.
“Copy,” Was all I replied.
“Get to Boston. Don’t take the truck.”
“Give me something to work with,” I demanded, taking the Advil out of the bag and tossing it to Jungkook. “I can’t be blind.”
“Cмерть не за горами.”
My entire world stopped spinning. I could hear my heart beating, feel my lungs pushing the air out of my body, while my eyes were frozen. Every single inch of my skin shivered, goosebumps springing up, and I broke out into a cold sweat. This was no heist. 
Hanging up on Jimin, I went to the window above my bed and opened it. Throwing the phone as far as I could, I turned to find Jungkook waiting for instructions. Staring at him, I decided to take a leap of faith.
“Ты один из нас?” I asked.
Jungkook raised an eyebrow at me. “What?”
Gritting my teeth, I snatched the duffle from him. Jungkook continued waiting for me to tell him what to do. I pointed to my bathroom.
“Take everything from the mirror cabinet and put it in the bag. After that, grab what you can from the wardrobe and stuff it. Only take one pair of shoes and a pair of heels. That’s all I’ll need.”
He got to work quickly. Going back to the bed, I took out my gun and the spare ammo I kept locked up at the very back corner. Placing the ammo in the duffle, I took my first aid kit from the kitchen floor and tossed it in as well. 
“Do you have a gun?” I asked Jungkook.
“Yeah,” He replied. “It’s in the jacket downstairs. I thought you would feel more comfortable if I wasn’t armed.”
Packing my small makeup collection, I felt myself shutting down. Bad girls don’t have feelings, and I was fucking heartless. Yes, I told myself, heartless. It was harder to pretend now than it had been, I was rusty and in desperate need of a distraction. The thought of finding my old family in the shadows was always frightening, but the thought of them looking for me was far more unsettling.
“Done,” Jungkook announced.
Realizing I had zoned out, I quickly put my makeup in the duffle bag and closed it. I had no time to dwell or be afraid. Heartless, Mouse, Heartless. I hated that name. Shaking my head, I pulled myself together enough to sling the duffle over my shoulder. Jungkook went to take it but I held my hand up.
“You’re not carrying this with your injuries. Just take that bag and this-” I handed him my gun. “I don’t know how quick you are but it’s probably better than me. I’m rusty.”
He nodded and we made our way down the stairs. Thinking, I began to categorize the cars that were in the parking lot and on the street. My truck was near the front but the streets were shrouded in light at this time. Jungkook’s bike was also out front. The back had security cameras but was pitch black at this time. I decided the front was the risk I was more willing to take and went through the hallway door on the first floor. Passing the doors, I paid no mind to Jungkook. He was capable and stayed in step with me effortlessly. 
We would drive for a few hours, probably stopping at a diner so I could get another car, and keep going until we hit Arizona or New Mexico. I had not decided yet. Going out the front doors, I waved Jungkook away while I walked down the street. He went to get his jacket but left the bike behind. He was back beside me in a few seconds. 
Crossing the street, I had my eyes on a Honda Accord parked on the curb. It was definitely a ‘97 model. I could start her up in a heartbeat. Unzipping one of the side pockets of my bag, I pulled out a switchblade and zipped it back up. Going to the driver’s side, Jungkook stayed at my back while I tried the handle. To my surprise, it opened. Stepping to the side, I gently tapped Jungkook’s back. Turning, he quickly shoved the gun into the backseat as I opened the door. After seeing that the coast was clear, I motioned for him to go around the car while I popped the truck. He said it was fine.
Nodding at him, I got into the car. Kicking the steering wheel, I heard the column lock break before swapping the ECUs. Taking my knife, I ripped off the lower center cover. Getting back out of the car, I opened the backseat and threw my duffle inside. Putting my knife back in its pocket, I opened the long side pocket along the front and pulled out my old screwdriver. This was far from the first jacking I had done.
Getting back into the car, I began to pry the steel cover away. Asking Jungkook for a light, I waited while he pulled out his phone from the pocket of the red jacket. He was lucky no one had taken it. With the flashlight on, I turned the switch from off, past run, to start. The car came to life instantaneously. Waving the light away, I threw the screwdriver into the center console and placed the car in drive. Finally closing the driver’s side door, I peeled off into the night.
The radio came to life and Amy Winehouse sang loudly as I got onto the I-5.
“Til’ the chips were down
Know you were a gambling man.
Love is a losing hand.”
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Jungkook was very quiet. I had just followed exit sounds and continued to drive toward Arizona. It was the least exciting state, and the people who lived there were far too judgemental outside of Phoenix, but it was the best way to get to the airport. That airport was far too big and strangely laid out that I knew we would be difficult to pick out in a crowd. Glazing over at Jungkook, he was holding the pack of cigarettes I had bought earlier.
“They’re for Jimin,” I suddenly said, switching lanes. “They were his favorite last time I saw him.”
“I think he’s smoking Camels now,” Jungkook replied.
“Can’t win them all.”
Sighing, I relaxed a bit more in my seat. So far, we have not been followed. Then again, I could be missing something. Tracking was not a strong suit of mine, and in my experience, the Russians were very, very evasive when they wanted to be. Still, I allowed myself a moment to breathe. 
“How do you know the boys in Brighton?” Jungkook asked, voice quiet and soft.
I thought about it for a moment. It was a rather long story, but knowing that we were familiar with the same people made it feel easier. Deciding to probe him for information first, I formed a plan in my head on how to go about this conversation.
“Have you ever heard of the person called Pыбка?” I asked, my American accent showing through. It had been a very, very long time since I had spoken Russian, and even then it had always been a second language that I learned from my time with the Shulaya.
“Ivan’s girl, right? The one who was murdered a few years back? What about her?”
Sparing him a quick glance, I spoke.
“Do I look dead to you?”
Jimin and I had known one another longer than anyone else in The Saints. He had been the last person to join the crew, and was deep within the Shulaya before he went to Jersey to join Hoseok’s team. I would never forget the look on his face the first time he saw me, or the fact that it took him all of ten minutes to get fully committed to keeping me safe. Everyone called me Mouse. Jin had come up with it after joking about me being able to live in someone’s attic and they would never know. It caught on and it was the only name anyone on the streets knew about. The ‘Little Fish’ of Shulaya long forgotten after the first two years of hiding. However, it seemed like my face had been seen by somebody and Ivan was not happy about my disappearing act. 
“Holy shit,” Jungkook said in awe. “We’re so fucked.”
I laughed, “Have some faith. Ivan is scary, but he’s also impulsive. I know him better than most and trust me- he doesn’t know how to keep his cool. Between Boston and NYC, I doubt he’ll get very far into their territory without raising hell.”
Jungkook made a strange noise.
“I’d be far more afraid of Yoongi than any of those Wiseguys.”
Scoffing, I saw the exit I needed to take in order to pull up at the last Holiday Inn before the long stretch of nothing at all. Jungkook seemed to see where my mind was going and began to look out of the window. After briefly going over what food options we had, we landed on Taco Bell. 
Ordering our food was simple enough. Jungkook was a huge tomato hater and was very upset to find that his Crunch Wrap had been ‘ruined.’ The motel seemed to have a few quests and I hoped we could get a room. Jungkook offered to pay. The frontdesk lady was kind and found us a room within 5 minutes. 
Using the elevator, I asked Jungkook if he still had the ‘thing’ with him. He nodded but said no more. It was probably better that way. Throwing my duffle bag onto my bed, I realized that Jungkook was still wearing a dress with the pants he had come inside in. 
Digging through my bag, I found a pair of sweatpants that would fit him well enough as well as an oversized nightshirt I rarely ever wore. I usually slept naked. Tonight, I will try to make my partner feel comfortable.
Throwing the clothes on his bed, Jungkook perked up a bit and seemed to be fine with their sizes. I wondered if he had been wearing more uncomfortable clothes at one time and shook my head. He had walked into this motel wearing that. Yes, Y/N, he has definitely been far more uncomfortable than tightly sweats. 
“You can take the bathroom first,” I pointed to the door. “You need it more than I do.”
Jungkook nodded, “Would you mind helping me get out of this thing? It still hurts to move my arms around too much.
Looking at him, I pinned him with an unimpressed look. We were not having one of those moments. Still looking at Jungkook, I unzipped the pouching with my switchblade in it and pulled the knife out. Walking to Jungkook, I quickly worked on the right side of the fabric. The left side was even quicker. Gently lifting his arm just enough to see his armpit, I cut the short sleeve from the bottom, following up with the top, and up the high neckline. Repeating it on the other side, the blood-soaked garment pooling to the floor. 
Jungkook seemed frozen. Looking at his face, his eyes were wide and staring at the blade in my hand. Thinking he might be uncomfortable with me standing so close to him with a weapon, I walked back to my bed.
“If you need help getting the shirt on, just let me know.”
“Thanks,” Jungkook replied.
Picking up the spare clothes, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. The water was on a few seconds later. Fully alone in the room, I looked around and decided to throw out the dress. With the torn up dress safely put away in my duffle, I tried to figure out what to do while I waited. 
Taking Jungkook’s phone off of his bed (he used a flip phone just like Yoongi did on the job), I quickly found my way to the contacts. Hovering over Jimin’s number, I paused. Not thinking about it for too long, I pressed it and placed my phone to my ear. He answered quickly.
“Where are you?” Jimin asked, voice very low.
“Are you safe to talk?” I replied, voice just as low.
I could hear the way Jimin rolled his eyes, a small groan leaving his lips.
“I’m fine,” His voice was still soft. “I’m at a casino right now. Did you steal his phone?”
My blood ran cold. Most of our guys loved gambling, but Jimin had always thought it was a dumb pastime. I knew Ivan had been trying to expand the Russian influence in Los Angeles, and I hoped that he knew what he was doing. Jimin tended to run into situations without contemplating everything. Instead of grilling him, I decided to ease his worries.
“We’re safe. Heading east.” I looked around the room distractedly. “And no. I’m using it while he’s taking a shower.”
Jimin sighed in relief, “Kook is a good guy. He’ll keep you safe long enough to make it back to Boston. I’ll be on my way back in a few hours.”
It was better to keep things vague. Just like I had not said where we were headed, Jimin’s answer could mean anything. I heard Jungkook cry out but he was quiet soon after. I hoped the work I had done was keeping. I had told him to keep the stitches covered.
“See you soon,” I forced a smile on my face. “I got you a pack of cigarettes.”
Jimin laughed, though it sounded more forced than normal.
“Stay safe. I have to go.”
I hung up without another word. If he had to go then he had to go. The shower was still running and I was bored again. Looking at the door, I was tempted to walk around for a while. I had a feeling I would get myself into trouble if I did, but I was curious to see if I could get some extra clothes for Jungkook. Possibly a set of car keys, too. Looking at the bathroom door, I figured he was going to be there for a while.
“Fuck it,” I said under my breath.
Getting my room key, I slipped out of the room quietly. 
The hallway was deserted, not a body in sight, but I had a feeling I could get something if I looked hard enough. Going to the elevator, I spotted a young couple laughing. Slowing my walk, I was happy to see that they were getting on the elevator.
Angling my body, I was practically jumping up and down when my eye caught on their room key. This would be too easy. The elevator chimed signaling someone was getting off. Quickly moving my body, I relied on their clinginess to sneak into the corridor without a problem. A group of people pooled out of the elevator and I drifted into their numbers.
The couple stood to the side and waited for us to pass. Using my foot, I tripped a young woman in front of me. She stumbled while I placed myself in a position to trip over her. The both of us dropped. The woman fell into the man. Falling, I shuffled closer to the man’s hand while the woman began apologizing profusely.
Quickly snatching the card from him, I slipped it into my pocket while I stood up. Adjusting my clothes, I quickly apologized as well. The couple waved the both of us off, seemingly unbothered, before getting on the elevator. Nodding to the woman, I turned toward the way the couple had come from. Looking at the keycard, I made my way toward the door with the number on it. I was lucky the woman and I had similar hair styles, but I was aware of Holiday Inn well enough to say that most of their cameras did not work.
Glancing up at the camera in the middle of the hallway, I was positive it was not working. Typically there would be a small, red dot that showed it was recording. Today, it was off. Letting myself in, I knew I had to be quick and clean.
Tonight I would only get clothes. Car keys were something I would have to snatch in the morning over breakfast. Someone would notice their keys missing in the middle of the night. Locating a large, black suitcase on the floor by the foot of the bed, I pulled it up onto the bed and unzipped it.
Carefully sifting through the clothes, I only pulled out enough for two outfits before gently placing everything back smoothly. They would probably be a bit big on Jungkook, but I doubted he would mind very much. I swore he was wearing a belt, but I had not been paying enough attention to know for sure. 
Going to the pockets of the bag, I was happy to find a container of hair pomade and hoped it might make Jungkook happy. He would be able to do his hair if he wanted. Grabbing a pack of hair bands and a pair of boxers, I was ready to leave. Going into the dresser, I pulled out the complimentary bag they gave every guest, I shoved the clothes in it before leaving the room. With the keycard in my hand, I dropped it in the spot the couple had been before making my way back to my own room.
Jungkook was sitting on his bed drying his hair when I came in. He was wearing the sweatpants and t-shirt I had given him. I was glad he was able to get it on alone, but I felt bad I had not been here to help him. Holding up the bag, I tossed it his way.
“The first robbery I’ve done in four years,” I shook my head. “You should feel special.”
Jungkook opened the bag and grinned at me. His hair went just past his shoulders when it was wet, his fluffy curls weighed down by the water. Sifting through the bag, he seemed the happiest about the hair ties. 
Getting my own clothes, I let him know I was going to take a shower. Getting under the hot water was a healing experience, and for the first time today I let a few tears slip out.
I was terrified, frustrated, but mostly- pissed.
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Twelve years ago
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Hands bound, I let my body relax. Ivan’s eyes were blazing, his anger palpable, but I refused to look away. He would never think I was weak again. Walking closer, the Russian yanked me up roughly, one of the straps of my sundress breaking.
“What the fuck did you do?” He seethed, his accent thick and almost incoherent through gritted teeth. “You always ruin everything you touch.”
Slowly, and with great care, I pooled spit into my mouth. With a quick gurgle, I spit in Ivan’s eye. My rebellion had angered just as much as it had excited Ivan. The thought made me sick to my stomach. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, his hands burning my skin. Slamming me down, Ivan roared in anger before delivering a swift kick to my stomach.
Gasping, I tried my hardest to keep the vomit down. I refused to give him the satisfaction. I wished I was with Alexei. He would never have treated me like this. As if the thought had transferred over to the man beside me, he kicked me again.
“Alexei is dead, Лох,” He shouted. “You’re mine now.”
With another swift kick, I cried out. Then, without warning my stomach twisted. Another kick. Finally, I threw up all over the concrete floor beneath me. 
For now. I was yours for now.
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Present
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With a new set of car keys in my hand, I walked into the parking lot. Jungkook was on the phone, but quickly hung up when he saw me approaching. Raising an eyebrow at him, I waved him over and we began walking together. Clicking the unlock button, I smiled when I saw the yellow Porsche. The two of us placed our things inside without a care in the world and drove off quickly after. 
I had found the targets for today the night before while walking around the hotel late last night. It was a young woman and her mother. The two of them had been a whirlwind and gave the staff hell. Unable to sleep, my head headaches from exhaustion, and their bickering only pissed me off more. Unfortunately for them, they had made a big show of their money and decided to brag about their car.
It took a few minutes to switch out license plates and even less time to steal her car keys this morning during breakfast. They were staying for another day and had not planned on leaving the hotel at all. Jungkook laughed once we were a safe distance away.
“I’m still in shock at that woman’s entitlement,” He shook his head. “Did you see the way she flipped out when they ran out of bacon before her ‘precious angel’ could get any?”
Chuckling, I kept my attention on the road.
“Her attitude was the only reason I swiped this thing. I would never get into something so obvious.”
“It was as easy as stealing candy from a baby.”
Feeling confident from the jacking, I decided to play along.
“Do you steal from babies often?”
Jungkook giggled cutely, “I’ve cut down to twice a year.”
“Oh?”
“Halloween-” He counted with one finger, and lifted another, “-and Easter.”
“Easter?” My eyebrows pulled in as I laughed incredulously.
Jungkook grinned lazily. 
“Stockings are so last year.”
It was becoming increasingly more difficult to think of him as a member of the mafia. While my age had made others test my abilities far more often than the others I never believed anyone doubted who I was. There was a look in your eye, this coldness, that separated you from the rest. I could pick out a killer in a line up- we were one in the same. However, Jungkook was impossible to get a read on. His boyish charms and good looks were not uncommon, but the innocence in his smile and the brightness that remained in his eyes were unsettling. Everything about him was unnerving. He was disarming and that alone was frightening.
Realizing the car had become quiet, I turned the radio on. It was a habit of mine. I did not like the silence. I hated it. Some trashy pop song blasted but I did not care. Jungkook did and began to look for something he liked more.
“What do you like?” He asked, pressing the screen to change the stations.
“Pick whatever,” I replied, flipping off the guy who cut me off.
Arizona was the worst state I had ever been to. The drive was not as awful as Texas, nothing will ever beat the twelve hours of hell to still be in that damned state, but it was not much better. Outside of Phoenix the towns were not as grand. Tucson gave her a run for her money, but never came close to the busy city. Driving through the desert, I asked Jungkook to pull up the directions to the airport. I no longer knew my way.
“How did you meet the guys?” I asked, eyes on the road.
Jungkook picked a pop station and leaned back in his seat.
“Through Jimin,” He replied. “They needed help dealing with someone. I had just left New York and we ran into each other in Vegas. I liked everyone so I decided to join.”
Raising an eyebrow, I quickly turned my head so he could see my expression.
“Ivan let you leave?”
“I wasn’t a member,” Jungkook mumbled. “Just an acquaintance. I was for hire.”
That was not what I had expected. Jungkook did not seem like a killer, but I had been proven wrong many times. When I lived with my parents I had met many assassins I would have never guessed who they were just looking at them. Even talking with them it was impossible to detect. Looking at the man, I found it hard to believe that we were from the same background. While I had ran from that life, Jungkook ran toward it with open arms. In fact, he seemed to pay it little mind.
“What family are you from?” I asked. “My family was under The Table.”
Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up.
“You’re from the Underground?”
I nodded, “I never really wanted that life. I’m a much better thief anyway.”
Jungkook rubbed his bottom lip. I forced myself to focus on the road. Even if we were the only people out here, I did not want to risk anything. I had stolen the car and the plate and getting stuck out here would be hell.
“I’m with Sacarii.”
The Sacarii was the sister organization to The Table. While my family had mostly dealt with members of gangs and high profile families, members of the Sacarii were the people who went after other assassins. Stealing another look at Jungkook, I looked at the tattoos on his arm and tried to find his symbol. All of us got one, mine was a tiger on my right side, but the ink was too difficult to look at while driving.
“I have a tiger lily,” Jungkook said, noticing my assessment. “I have a few of them, actually.”
Lilies are from Japan, but I knew Jungkook was Korean. His name alone gave him away. Waving my hand, I asked him to explain when he got it.
“My family moved to Japan when I was fifteen. I had my first kill there so we decided that I would get something to represent that. The prayer hands on my back were done by the organization after the ordainment.”
Ordainments were very common. It was the process an assassin went through to become an official member of their organization. Their families were no longer defined by blood but the common experiences each one shared. The Table and the Sacarii were one big family, but oftentimes we did not get along with one another. Civil at best and competition at worst. Prayer hands with a rosary were the tattoos everyone got. It was large, covering the entire center of the back, with the family oath written above and below it. 
“I never got mine,” I admitted. “I ran off before my ceremony. That’s when I met Alexei.”
“How old were you?”
Smiling sadly, I replied. “Thirteen.”
“Oh,” He said. “I didn’t know they got people that young.”
“Well, he saw me kill someone and wanted to keep me. I doubt you knew him- he died a few years ago.”
Jungkook nodded, “Yeah. What was he like?”
Laughing, I spotted a gas station and decided to stop. We were at half a tank, but I wanted to be safe. Jungkook took out his wallet and handed me a twenty. 
“He was a better man than his brother,” I answered, taking the money. “He knew how to stay calm and respect other people. Alexei always kept good relationships with the other families. Ivan is an idiot who can’t handle criticisms of any kind.”
“He’s that awful? I mean, I only know him through brief meetings.”
“I’d rather be dead than serve him again,” I opened my door. “But you already know that.”
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Settling in my seat, I glanced over at Jungkook. He looked tired and I let him know it was fine to sleep. He nodded and slipped his eyes closed shortly after. Taking my new phone out of my pocket, I decided to make a quick phone call before we took off. Jungkook and I had picked up a flip phone from Walmart on our way to the airport. It was more secure than any smartphone. Dialing the number, I waited.
“Hello?” Hoseok picked up.
“I’m landing in Massachusetts,” I replied, knowing he was aware of the situation by now. It had been a day and a half. “Pick me up at our spot.”
“Jin will be there.”
“Copy.”
Hoseok sighed heavily, “Is the kid okay? Heard you shook him up.”
Glancing at Jungkook, I was shocked he was snoring. 
“He’s fine,” I replied. “He’s definitely in pain, and tries to keep his movement to a minimum, but hides it from me. Attempts to, I should say.  I took care of him as best I could but Agust should get his hands on his ASAP.”
Hoseok hummed and I knew he was nodding. He was a very animated, lively person and could not sit still for long. He got into a fist fight with a Russian who took offense to his hand movements. 
“See you when I see you.”
“Three o’clock,” I said before hanging up.
Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I finally buckled my seat. Shaking Jungkook awake, I told him to put his belt on. He grinned at me lazily before doing it. He fell asleep again quickly. 
Happy to have a window seat, I watched as we began to take off. It had been a while since I was on a plane. The last time was when I was running to California as quickly as I could. Kansas had been nice when I had first left The Saints, but it quickly became suffocating. The silence and mundane town life made my skin crawl. California had seemed like it would be better, more fun, but it had become just as mundane after a while. 
I had always gotten bored easily. It was why I enjoyed pickpocketing. As a kid, my little hands and unassuming looks had made it easy. I never planned on getting good at it. At the time it felt less damning in comparison to what the people in my life wanted me to do. 
There was a time when I was happy killing, pleasing my family had always felt good, but that faded when my teenage years approached. Running away to New York was a quick, impulsive decision I had made when I was afraid of my future. Staring at the clear, blue sky, I scoffed. 
I had run away from one hell into another. I went from that one into another. The Saints were my family, but I would be lying if I said I felt they were any different from what I had always done. Kansas had been my first attempt at normalcy, and San Diego had been me living in that world.
And I loved it, in my own way. It was nice to have a routine. It felt good to have friends, even if they were the most surface level friendships I could allow myself to have, and I owned my own things. I had earned what I had. 
Now I was flying back to a place I was not sure I belonged anymore. I felt two halves of myself fighting one another. One half wanted to run again, to disappear, and get as far away from this place as possible. Then there was the other side of me, the twisted, dark, nasty side of myself that was reveling in all of this. My excitement was hard for me to figure out, and I began to doubt myself.
Had I ever really wanted this life? Has it all been a dream? A fantasy of a perfectly serene, normal, and legal lifestyle I had never known? Finding a cloud, I rubbed my temples and sighed. 
I doubted I would ever have an answer to that question.
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Five years ago
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Standing around the table, all of us went over the plan again. They were doing construction on the roof, so that would be the quickest, and easiest, point of entrance. I would go first while Hoseok and Jin dressed as police officers to take out the security guards in the back. Taehyung would take care of the cameras before this. Yoongi would follow behind me along with Jimin. I would lead the team after we had taken over the museum.
Looking over at Jimin, he was already looking at me. Everyone knew that this would be my last mission, and he had taken it the worst. We hardly spoke and he actively ignored me. I was surprised he was acknowledging me at all. Breaking eye contact, I went back to explaining the pieces we would be taking.
“Don was very specific about these three pieces,” I said, pointing to the Rembrandt and two pieces of jewelry. “These are our high payouts. Get these first. After that we can make quick work of the rest.”
“Who did you say the others were going to?” Yoongi asked.
“The rest are split up between some vendors I know,” I replied. “Freddie Newman, Diane Pollack, and Dwayne Smith. The jewels are for Georgie Boy, Archie, and two others. Park’s handling that.”
“This is a big job,” Hoseok mumbled. “Will the six of us be able to get it done?”
I nodded easily. 
“Yes, we’ll have all the time in the world once those guards are taken care of. I’m planning on this being an hour- two at most.”
Looking back at Jimin, I was happy to see he was grinning at me. We would be fine. Deciding we had gone over everything, I walked away from the table. 
“We’ll leave at midnight.”
“Copy,” Jimin replied.
Smiling to myself, I left the room and went to the kitchen to find something to eat.
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Getting off the plane, I kept Jungkook close as we made our way to baggage claim. Being on the East Coast again was uncomfortable. I knew this airport like the back of my hand, knew every nook and cranny of these streets, but I still felt out of place. I was even more unsettled knowing there were people looking for me. 
Standing by the conveyor belt, we waited for my duffle bag to come out. Jungkook looked around, his scouting looking natural, and I kept my eyes on the bags. It came out a few minutes later, and I slung it over my shoulder. Jungkook wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him.
“They’re here,” He whispered, a soft smile on his face. Lips brushing the top of my head, he started walking and kept me close. “They don’t know me, so we’ll be fine.”
Forcing a smile on my face, I wrapped my arm around his waist. My heartbeat quickened, and I found myself enjoying the way his body pressed into mine. Allowing myself a small glance around us, I saw two familiar faces near the escalators. Dimitri and Anton. As we neared the escalators, I knew they would notice me unless I acted very differently than what they remembered. 
Deciding to commit to our charade, I lifted my head up towards Jungkook. Kissing his cheek, I was able to hide my face from the two men. Jungkook stepped onto the elevator first. Turning him to face me, I grabbed his face and pressed our lips together. He was soft, gentle, and tasted like the licorice he’d gotten on the plane. He wrapped his arms around my waist and melted into the kiss. Pulling away, head pressed against his, I looked at the steps. 
“We’re almost at the top,” I mumbled.
Jungkook nodded and slowly moved away from me. Angling his body towards the front, he kept an arm firmly around my waist as we got to the top. Sparing a single glance behind me, the two men were none the wiser. Smirking, I ran my hand up and down Jungkook’s back in silent praise. 
Walking further and further away from the others, Jungkook’s arm did not move. I stayed close to his side, happy to have someone to lean on. It made sense now. Jimin sent him because he was less known to the others. Ivan would know him, and the people closest to him, but someone like Anton would be blindsided by his presence. They were expecting one of my boys. Stepping into the sun, the two of us were quick to hail down a taxi and slip inside. 
“We’re running a bit late,” I announced, buckling in. “Can you take us to the Hood Milk Bottle?”
“No problem,” The cab driver replied.
It was barely a 10 minute drive, but airport traffic made it feel like forever. Jungkook and I did not talk. Our closeness from earlier was officially stopped, and I felt silly for missing his warmth. Looking at him out of the corner of my eye, I grew shy. Just moments ago, his arms were wrapped around me. Catching sight of the tiger lily on his elbow, I had to quickly look back out of the window.
God, he was fucking hot.
Pulling out my phone, I found a new message on it. 
Unknown: Eating a lobster roll outside
Rolling my eyes, I replied.
Y/N: Of course you are. Two minutes.
Unknown: Lunch on me
Flipping the phone closed, I shoved it back in my back pocket. Looking out of the window, I did feel nostalgic. It had been such a long time and yet things stayed the same. There were a few new shops where old ones used to be, but the places I remembered the most fondly were still around. The mixed feelings I had were beginning to weigh down on me. 
Pulling up, I smiled. Hood was such an iconic, fun place. Looking back at Jungkook, I was touched to see him paying the cabby. Saying goodbye, the two of us got out of the car. The duffle had been in my lap. Jungkook stared up at the giant milk bottle in awe.
“Jin said he'll buy us lunch.”
Jungkook smirked, “What do you recommend?”
Walking toward the snack stand, I shrugged my shoulders.
“I’m getting a lobster roll, but if you’re not into that, the soft serve is great.”
Walking around the side, I saw Jin sitting on one of the picnic benches eating. I was more surprised to see he was still enjoying his food than the purple hair. Jimin must have convinced him to do that. Whistling, I smirked at Jin and waved.
Jin was the oldest out of all of us, and spoke the least amount of English, but we were close. Standing, he offered me a hug which I happily accepted. Clearing my throat, I began speaking in Korean.
“You look nice,” I ruffled his hair. “This color looks really good on you.”
“Thanks,” He shoved my hand away. “Lobster roll? Thought you might have missed the New England taste.”
Nodded, I turned to Jungkook.
“What do you want?” I asked in English.
He shook his head at me, “Chocolate ice cream.”
When he spoke Korean, his voice was much deeper. Grinning at him, I looked back at Jin.
“One lobster roll and one chocolate soft serve.”
Going to order our food, Jin told us to sit and wait. Jungkook sat down next to me, his elbow on the table with his head resting on his fist. I was unsure of what to make of the look on his face. He seemed so… fond of me. No one had ever really looked at me like that before. I was used to anger, annoyance, or fear, but fondness was uncharted territory. The closest person I could think of had been Alexi, but even then he had always looked at me as a child. Jungkook did not.
“I didn’t know you spoke Korean,” He said, speaking the language.
“I know a lot of languages,” I replied. ��I’m mostly fluent in English and Russian. My Korean is good, but I’m not fluent by any stretch of the imagination. I speak a decent amount of Spanish as well.”
“That’s so cool. Mine are Korean, Japanese, and English.”
Jin was back with our food. 
“Eat it in the car,” He said, “Everyone is waiting for us.”
“Is Park back in town?” Jungkook asked.
Jin shook his head, “Not yet. We haven’t heard from since yesterday.”
I knew we would talk more once we were out of the public eye. There was only so much we could say out here. Taking my roll, I followed Jin. Jungkook ate his ice cream happily, his eyes sparkling with joy. It was my turn to smile fondly. 
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Pulling into a small driveway, I was confused. I did not recognize the house. Painted a calming sky blue with black shutters, a well-groomed lawn, and a small flower garden, it was unassuming and plain. Looking over at Jungkook, he seemed happy to be here. 
“Where are we?” I asked.
Jungkook smiled at me, “Yoongi’s.”
Taken aback, I froze. That had been the last person I had thought of. The last time I had seen everyone, Yoongi and Hoseok were living in a shitty condo in South End. While I was confused, and even unsettled, by the changes I was also pleased. It felt good to see Yoongi living more civilly. I wondered what had changed.
Hopping out of the Jeep, I met up with Jin and Jungkook at the hood before following behind them. The house was pristine and the small cul de sac was quiet. Eyes bulging out of my head, I fought back the urge to laugh out loud at the sight of a bird feeder on the edge of the lawn. 
Standing on the small porch, the three of us huddled close together. Jungkook gently moved my body in front of his, successfully shielding my body from the street. Leaning back slightly, I brushed my back against his chest quickly before straightening my back. I was beginning to lean into my growing attraction, but knew better than to take it any further than small touches. The airport had been for survival- nothing more. 
Jin knocked, the rhythm the only familiar thing about this place, before the door swung open. On the other side, a woman peered out at us. Her hair was short, wildly frizzy with unkempt curls, and bright red. Her eyes were brown and skin alabaster. The green dress she wore looked nice on her full figure. She smiled brightly at Jin, saying hello with joy. Her voice had hints of an accent but it was too faint for me to pick up.
“It’s nice to see you Johanna,” Jin greeted, kissing the woman’s cheek before gesturing towards me. “Johanna, Mouse. Mouse, Johanna.”
The red head gave me a polite smile before offering her hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mouse.”
“Y/N,” I corrected, glaring at Jin. “Y/N is fine outside of business.”
“This is business though, isn’t it?” Johanna tilted her head at me, a mischievous glint in her eye. I decided right away that I liked her. “Come in. Hello Kookie.”
“Hey Jo,” The man replied.
Stepping inside, I looked around. The inside was just as perfect as the outside. Brightly colored walls with pops of color scattered around, mostly in the art hanging on the walls, with plants everywhere. It smelled like apple cinnamon and Pinesol. The hardwood floors were loud as we walked along them. The size of the living room was bigger than my entire apartment. Catching sight of a collage of photos, I looked over them the best I could as I walked.
All of them were nice photos, family photos, but one caught my eye. Yoongi was smiling, a rare sight, and his eyes were shining brightly. He was on the beach, arms wrapped around Johanna tenderly, while she had a large bouquet of flowers in her hand. She wore a white dress that hit her just at the ankle, a long, thin veil clipped onto the back of her head. The Saints were there along with a few people I did not recognize. Belatedly, I realized that I was looking at a wedding picture. A wedding I had missed. A wedding I had never been invited to. A wedding I had never even knew. Eyes glued to the photo, I cause a glimpse of Jungkook in a far-off corner, almost completely cut out, but he had been there. 
I knew my hurt feelings were unjustified. I had been the one who told them to leave me out of their affairs. I had said emergencies only. Still, I found myself growing increasingly alienated. I truly had no place here anymore. The only purpose I had ever served was monetary gain. The friendships I had built along the way were as fickle as the ones I had in New York. 
Arguing with myself, I struggled to stay present. As we walked deeper into the house, the need to run presented itself all over again. Everything I had known was gone. Everyone was different. Everything was different. Sparing a glance over at Jungkook, a seed of resentment began to grow in my chest. 
No one had ever referred to me as affectionately as they had Jungkook. No one had ever seemed endeared by my failures. Hell, none of these guys even acknowledged my feelings half the time. Staring at the back of Johanna’s head, I found that I didn't really like her that much anymore. She was loved. I was tolerated.
Still, I told myself that they had come for me. They had wanted to keep me safe. And yet, the insecurities that had always lived in my head reared their ugly head and reminded me that it was for their own good. I was useful. As long as I would be of use to them, then I would be protected. It would never be the same reasons they would fight for Johanna. They would fight for her because they wanted to keep her safe.
I could feel eyes on me, but I ignored them. I did not want comfort from Jungkook. I just wanted to get this over with so I could go back to San Diego. Even if they were surface level, those friendships were still more loving than whatever the fuck I had here. I hated Boston. I hated New York. I hated the entire East Coast. 
“Y/N?” Johanna called out, looking back at me with concern. “Are you alright?”
Nodding, I replied. 
“I’m fine. Just lost in my head.”
I hated the edge my voice had taken on. I hated just how much I had to control myself around these people. I wanted to scream, shout, cry; whatever. I just wanted to feel myself lose control for a little while. The woman did not believe me but offered me a smile regardless. 
“I asked if you would like a drink.”
“Water’s fine,” I replied.
Jin seemed suspicious of me but said nothing at all. He had always known I liked my space. Still, I could tell he was worried. I knew my thoughts were out of line, I knew that I was over thinking and attempting to overcompensate, but it was impossible to stop it from happening. The downward spiral was difficult to manage. 
Suddenly, an arm was wrapped around my shoulder. Jumping, I whipped my head around to see Jungkook smiling at me. It was a goofy smile, one that he pulled when he was feeling playful, before he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“What happens when you get water on a table?” He asked.
Taken aback, I opened and closed my mouth several times.
“What?”
“It becomes a pool table.”
Mouth agape, I blinked in disbelief before shoving him away. I let out a small laugh and shook my head at him. Where in the world had that come from?
Seokjin was laughing, hands clapping, and praising the younger man for the joke. Jin was a big fan of dad jokes and enjoyed making them up whenever he could. Typically, you would have to know enough Korean for them to make sense, but they never failed to get a few chuckles out of me. The ridiculousness of the jokes coupled with the corny delivery was always funny. Johanna placed a glass in front of me smiling fondly at Jungkook.
“He’s a mess,” She said, looking at me in faux exasperation. “I don’t know how you survived the trip here. He talks too much.”
Shaking my head, I took a large sip of the water.
“It’s better than the awkward silence Yoongi brings along.”
She laughed, knocking her head back.
“Touche,” She giggled. “He is a bit intense sometimes.”
“You’ve been in Boston for an hour and you’re already turning my wife against me.”
The voice had come from behind me. Spinning around dumbly, I was face-to-face with Yoongi. The scar on his face was just as prominent as it had always been, taking up his entire left cheek into forehead, but his eyes seemed lighter than I remembered. He was skinnier than the last time I saw him, too. He was wearing a simple black shirt with a pair of jeans. He seemed completely at ease. 
“Hey kid,” He greeted Jungkook with a grin. “Heard Mouse got you good.”
Jungkook flushed, ducking his head while rubbing his neck.
“Oh?” Jin chimed, his voice mocking. “The great Sacarii taken down by a little mouse?”
Rolling my eyes, I sighed heavily.
“He didn’t even try anything,” I admitted. “I was the aggressive one.”
“He was just an idiot,” Jin teased.
Yoongi tsked, “Park was the bigger idiot of the two. He’s going to give me an aneurysm.”
“You’re too hard on him,” Johanna gently scolded. “You know Jimin has a roundabout way of being right.”
 Jungkook laughed, “A broken clock’s right twice a day.”
A silence fell over our group. It felt unnatural to be standing in a nice kitchen talking over mundane topics with everyone. It was a long ways away from the roach infested alleyways and closed off apartment complexes. I lived with Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung when I was in Boston. Our small one bedroom was always cluttered, overcrowded, and was the main spot for our meetups. The conference room had been stuffed between two twin-sized mattresses with a large, round table in the middle of it all. I slept on the pull-out sofa in the front. 
“I guess we should talk,” Yoongi said, looking me up and down. 
“I guess so,” I replied.
Walking over to him, I realized that no one else was following. Looking back at the other three, they simply looked back. Sighing, I let it go. Being alone with Yoongi was not an unwelcome thing, but it had always made me feel like I was in trouble. Laughing at myself, I followed the man out of the kitchen and into the dining room. This time I was the one who was in trouble. 
Walking out of the dining room, we were now in a small reading room with a staircase. A green, stand-up piano was tucked away between tall bookshelves and more plants. Following Yoongi upstairs, I refrained from looking too closely at things. The house was much bigger than it looked. Walking past a few doors, we stopped before Yoongi opened one. 
Gesturing me to follow, I smiled at the sight of the old table. It was far too large, held six chairs, and was cheaply made. Someone had refurbished it and I wondered if it had been Johanna. She seemed to like everything to be nice and neat. It was an aesthetically pleasing layout, but this room was all Yoongi. The dark colored walls and furniture were in stark contrast to the otherwise white house. Taking a seat at the table, I pulled out the chair directly across from him.
There was a line up of photos scattered on the desk along with a few letters. I recognized two of the women but the others were unfamiliar to me. Looking around, I scowled when I saw a picture of Ivan. I would be lying if I said he was physically unattractive. Ivan had always had this air around him and coupled with his angular features and blue eyes it was no wonder why women chased him. I knew him, however, and the slope of his cheekbones and the perfectly groomed dirty-blonde hair did nothing but repulse me. He looked everything like his brother. He looked nothing like his brother.
Picking the photo up, I looked closely. It was candid. Someone had been hiding when they took it since the man seemed to be unaware of the camera. He was smoking a cigarette and behind him was a beach. Trying to figure out where he could be was hard, but it was nowhere near New York. It was too sunny, the waves too high, and I could see a surfer in the background. 
“Johanna took that,” Yoongi suddenly said. “We were in California. It’s where we got married.”
Mind racing, I kept looking at the picture. Ivan had been close to me. Very close, in fact. Trying to figure out how I could have been traced, I thought of Kimberly and winced. It would take no time at all to figure out if it really was me. He could just send some random into the salon after seeing a post. I looked different but I was still me. He could have scouted out the place for months without me being any wiser. Closing my eyes, I dropped the photo.
“He’s known where you are for a while,” He continued. “He had asked Jungkook to take care of you a few weeks ago, but the kid refused. He knew your face. Ivan’s been trying to figure out the best plan of getting to you without pissing us off.”
“So he thought forcing me back to New York was the best option?” I spat.
Yoongi nodded, “In his mind, you’d be under his claim again so we’d have no authority. Either he’s crazy or stupid.”
“Both,” I replied. “Always both.”
“I’ve noticed.”
Eyes searching the pictures for more signs, I grew angry. 
“Why are you only just now telling me?” I demanded, picking apart each detail of the photographs. “I should have known from the very beginning.”
“I thought so, too,” Yoongi defended. “It was Jimin telling us to cool it. He thought he could get it under control since he’s known Ivan for so long. It didn’t work out and Jimin was kicked out of the family.”
“What?” I shouted.
Ivan was losing his damn mind. Jimin was the closest thing to Alexi those boy had after Ivan took over. They loved him, I loved him, and to watch him get kicked out over me would have been a massive blow to Ivan’s credibility. Loyalty was gone from New York it seemed, and it would only be a matter of time before Ivan came to the same conclusion. They don’t make them like Jimin anymore. He was only trying to keep the peace. Thinking of my friend, I willed back my tears. He had wanted me to stay in California. He didn’t want me to come back.
“They’re not doing well,” Yoongi admitted. “Georgie Boy and I talked and he’s with us regardless. The Italians haven’t been appreciating Ivan’s ways either. Hoseok spoke with the Gambinos and they said they’ll light up the Russians if they get into their territory again.”
“Again?”
Yoongi smiled without humor.
“Ivan’s boys were selling in the Gambino’s turf. Didn’t end well for them. They aren’t going to tolerate that shit again, and the other families are on the lookout as well. Have to say, the boy has lost his fucking mind.”
Going over the information, I felt more confident than I had before. Ivan was hoping to get me back into his arms first. Then he’d kill me. Or keep me. It was impossible to know for sure. Either way, he had a rude awakening if he thought my boys were going to let it happen without consequences. Thinking back to my thoughts when I first came inside, I reminded myself that we were connected. I meant more to them than property. They weren’t Ivan. 
They weren’t Alexei either.
Shoving that thought down, I refocused on the photo of Ivan. He looked worse than I had last seen him. His age was beginning to show, and I sneered at the sight of the family tattoo. I had been claimed by many groups in my life. The tiger for my family, the slope-edged star on my collar bone for Alexei, the clerk on my ribs for my skill with a blade, and St. Anthony for The Saints. Ivan’s name had been cut into my skin by the man himself after I killed a rival without permission. The scars were faded now, but I never liked to show my stomach anymore. You could still see the carving and I would always know they were there. 
 Eyes zeroing in on Ivan’s calf, I saw red as I caught sight of the dagger entwined by a snake. It was in the same spot as mine. They all represented something. 
The star was commonplace for all Russians while my clerk was far more specialized. I got it after I helped Alexei take care of a snitch. I hated thinking about that night, but it earned me my stripes. I got my dagger a few months later. The dagger was rare, only given out to a leader of a “suit” of thieves. Alexi had promoted me, and I controlled my own section of New York alongside him. Ivan did not deserve that tattoo even if he was the boss.
“Can I ask you something?” Yoongi said.
I nodded.
“Why would he want you back so badly? He hates you.”
I smiled ruefully, looking up from the picture. 
“I’m Alexei’s girl and he finds great pleasure in keeping me around just to spite him. Even if he’s dead, it’ll never be enough. Breaking me down was always the goal.”
“Were you and Alexei…”
Yoongi did not need to finish the sentence. It was a fair question and one that everyone asked at some point. The Saints never liked picking into my past too much. They knew it had been rough, they knew what Ivan and I’s relationship was like, so they put it to rest. Yoongi had seen my stomach once, said he was going to kill him one day, and never brought it up again. Latching onto the memory, I further reinforced that they cared for me. This was not a dangerous place. These are my friends.
“No, Alexei would never. I was only 13 when we met. He was 19. We were like siblings more than anything. More than he and Ivan ever were.”
“Ivan was jealous?” I nodded. “Typical.”
“He’s the one who killed him, you know,” I leaned back in the chair. “I was there that night. That’s why Ivan hates me. I know too much.”
Yoongi shook his head in disbelief. It was a completely different world than he was used to. The Irish took care of their own. While it may have involved violence and punishments being handed out from time to time, there had always been unwavering loyalty to one another. For Hoseok it was the same. Snitches were snitches but you always had people you knew were on your corner. When Ivan saw an in he took it, even if it meant killing his older brother, and everyone suffered for it. I had not said anything out of the code of ethics we built, but that never stopped word from spreading. Everyone knew Ivan killed Alexei but no one could prove it.
Yoongi sucked his teeth, “They know you came home. Jimin let us know about that. He and Kai have been all over this shit.”
I hummed, “They had a couple guys at the airport. Jungkook and I got past them easily, though.”
Yoongi looked at me strangely now. It was in between concern and pride, but I figured it was the closest thing to friendly I would get from him. It was not his fault his face looked the way it did. Wanting to lighten the mood, I decided to ask him about his wife.
“So, who’s Johanna?”
Yoongi actually cracked a smile.
“She’s a nuclear engineer. Works at BU and moved to America seven years ago.”
“How’d that even happen?”
Yoongi shrugged, “I don’t even know. We met at a restaurant Georgie took me to. She was there with some friends. We bumped into one another and she gave me her number. I didn’t call but we ran into each other again at a bar. Stuck like glue ever since.”
Gently smiling I replied, “Sounds nice. I’m glad you found someone.”
Yoongi looked down bashfully. He was like an entirely new person now. Yoongi had never been one to show emotions outside of anger and annoyance. Even with us he had been a hardass. It was strange but nice at the same time. I liked it more than the robot I was used to.
“She’s a good person,” He whispered, suddenly serious. “Sometimes I wonder if I should have left her alone. She deserves better than a life of crime and being entangled in my bullshit.”
I understood where he was coming from.
“You could always leave. Runaway to Iceland and never look back.”
Yoongi grinned, “I thought about it but I don’t have any skills outside of this. What would I do? Unlike you, some of us have never thought past our horizons. Besides, I have other people to think about.”
I also understood that as well. I had been afraid of change for a long time, and I had known I wanted it for a while. I was unsure how long they had known one another, or had been together, but Yoongi had always said he’d die in Boston. I doubted he thought that way now. 
“It’s okay to be selfish,” I mumbled. “Things haven’t been easy and there were times when I missed the craziness, but I can say it’s an experience everyone should have. I love both of my lives, but I’d be lying if I said I’d choose this over California.”
Yoongi nodded in thought. We would drop this conversation and likely never pick it back up again, so I knew I should say my peace now. Whatever he decided to do would ultimately be on his shoulders, but I thought it would be okay to push him to follow his heart’s desires. I was a dreamer and I hoped the others would find a dream to hold onto as well.
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Walking downstairs, I was tired. The traveling had finally caught up to me and I wanted to get some rest while I could. Walking into the kitchen, the three of them were still talking. Johanna had started to cook something. It smelled nice but my stomach churned at the thought of food. Making my presence known, I yawned loudly and stretched my arms above my head.
“Sleepy?” Jungkook asked, completely at ease. 
He looked right at home here. Briefly I wondered if he stayed here often enough for that to be the case. Yoongi hated other people in his space, but he had changed since I last saw him. Jungkook, however, did not seem like someone who would like living with other people. He was mostly quiet, sweet, but standoffish at times. Jin grinned at me.
“Sorry to say I’m full,” The older man took a sip from a glass. I could not tell what it was and did not care to know. I rubbed my eyes dramatically and yawned again. “Jimin and I are rooming together. I doubt you want to take the sofa. Let’s just say I’ve been taking advantage of his absence.”
“I’ll take what I can get at this point,” I replied with another yawn. Shaking my head, I groaned. “God, I hate it when that happens.”
“Jungkook can keep you,” Johanna offered. “I’d let you stay here but my niece is spending the weekend. I don’t want to put her in a bad position.”
I knew what she meant. I would not want to put a child in the middle of this bullshit either. Looking over at Jungkook, I raised my eyebrow in silent questioning. He nodded back at me with a grin. I smiled back at him.
“We should go while we have daylight,” Jungkook said, a pair of keys in his hands.
I had no idea where they had come from.
“I can wait,” I protested. “You should eat first.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes.
“I’ll be fine. You haven’t slept since yesterday.”
“Y/N!” Jin scolded.
I non committedly waved him off. Scrunching my face up at Jin, I mumbled something close to ‘leave me alone,’ but I was doubtful it came out properly. Fighting to keep my eyes open, I leaned into Jungkook’s side as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. Guiding me away from the kitchen, I knew I heard Jin make a comment about how close we were.
“You’re just jealous she likes me more than you,” Jungkook snapped back.
“Does not,” Jin replied, childishly whining.
Johanna laughed and I could hear Yoongi coming down the stairs. Jungkook lead me back into the reading room and turned left. Going down two steps we were in front of a door.
“Be safe!” Johanna called out.
“Always, noona,” Jungkook replied.
Leading me to the room, I realized we were in a garage. I was again surprised. There were two cars, both of them very nice and sleek, surrounded by expensive tools and equipment. Back in the day, I would have swiped everything in this room and stole one of the cars. Now, I was being led toward the black Marcedes on the farthest side of the room. 
“This one’s mine,” Jungkook said, attempting to fill the space.
“First one we haven’t stolen,” I joked.
Sliding into the passenger seat, I melted into the seat before Jungkook was in the vehicle. Opening the glovebox, I moved my legs out of the way as the man dug around the compartment. Finally he pulled a smartphone out and quickly turned it on. A few minutes later, the garage door was opening and we were pulling out of the large driveway. We passed Jin’s Jeep on the way out and Jungkook could not help but make a snide comment about the ugly car. I felt comfortable enough to try and fall asleep.
“You know,” Jungkook announced, making my eyes snap open. “You’re the coolest person I’ve ever worked with.”
I chuckled, my drowsiness making it difficult to focus. 
“Thanks. You’re not that bad.”
“I’ve been useless for the entire trip,” Jungkook argued. “You stole the cars, got me clothes, made sure we were able to get flights without getting into some shit for it, and you always tried to make me feel more comfortable.”
Snorting, I looked over at the man.
“I shot you.”
Jungkook burst out laughing.
“I broke into your house.”
“Eye for an eye,” I offered, laughing.
Jungkook spared me a look in order to flash one of his blinding smiles. I noticed now that his front teeth were slightly bigger than they should be. 
“Really,” Jungkook was serious again. “I feel bad for being dead weight. I’ll make it up to you, though. I’m not really known for stealing cars or running off into the night, but I know how to kill someone.”
Looking at me again, Jungkook’s boyish smile and light eyes were on. In their place were hard lines, a slightly down-turned pout, and a coldness that surrounded him I was unaccustomed to. While earnest, his expression felt wrong. Jungkook was sunshine and this felt like an eclipse.
“No one is going to touch you. I’ll cut their fucking hands off finger-by-finger if need be to get my point across.”
“Why would you do that?” I asked, confused.
We did not know one another. Hell, I shot this fucking guy. And yet here he was devoting his life to keeping me safe. It was crazy. Then again, this life was like that. Putting myself in Jungkook’s shoes, I thought about it the other way around. Would I kill for him?
“Because you’re my friend,” He answered without hesitation. “You’re my friend and I would like to get to know you better.”
Yes, I thought, I would kill for this kid.
Humming, I decided against saying anything else. I was far too tired for this conversation. Letting my body win, I closed my eyes and leaned against the car window. I fell asleep quickly, but I found no peace. Ivan’s face flashed through my mind, his eyes alight with anger, and my blood was all over his hands. My screams echoed in the background. He placed his knife against my skin again and drew a “V” right next to the “I.”
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Eleven years ago
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Standing beside Hoseok, I stared up at the apartment complex wearily. It was small, bricked, and disgusting. I could smell trash and smoke everywhere and people were yelling. I did not like it here. Not at all.
Looking over at the older boy, I made sure to show him my discontent. I could admit that South End was nicer than my old place in Brooklyn, but only for the quieter atmosphere. Everything else was just as nasty. Hoseok shoved me forward and scolded me for acting like a “freak.”
“People are going to know you’re new,” Hoseok complained. “Then  I’m going to have to break their fucking head open for stepping out of line. Then Yoongi is going to dislike you. So, just fucking walk and keep your head down.”
Anger flaring, I stopped. Hoseok bumped into my back. Groaning loudly, he went to yell at me again. Scowling, I elbowed him in the stomach harshly. When he groaned and grabbed his stomach, I turned around and punched him in the face. While he barely moved, eating the hit easily, it seemed to get the message across.
“Don’t talk to me like that, bitch,” I seethed. “You’re not my dad.”
Waiting for Hoseok to hit me back, I stood there with my fists balled up. He looked at me intensely, his hands still clutching his stomach. His eyes went from my face to the small patch of exposed skin on my stomach. Knowing exactly what he was looking at, I pulled down the too-short shirt and yelled at him again to hit me.
Instead of violence, Hoseok simply took up straight. Breathing through his nostrils, he seemed to be calming himself down. I could see the start of a blackeye forming where I had hit him. My regret began eating away at me instantly, but I refused to back down. He deserved that hit. He needed to know I was not going to be his little plaything. 
Hoseok just continued to walk, telling me to follow, and I could tell he was trying to be nicer this time around. Confused and more uneasy than before, I kept my hands ready for a fight. I was not sure when this nice-guy act would stop.
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Being shaken awake, I realized we were at Jungkook’s. Glancing at the time, I was shocked we had driven almost two hours. We were parked in a small lot with a large brick building to the right. Jungkook turned the car off and got out. Quickly following him, I wondered where we were.
It was a nice place. They looked like townhomes and I could smell someone barbecuing. Jungkook looked back at me, a few paces ahead, and continued to walk around to the front. Every house had large bushes in the front yards. Hydrangeas grew vibrantly along the walkway with spaces to make way for the entryway to homes. Jungkook turned and I followed.
The front was identical to the others. The only difference I could see was Jungkook’s ‘no shoes’ sign right out front. Rubbing my eyes, I continued to wake up and get the crust off of my skin.
“It’s small,” Jungkook suddenly said, “But it’s nice.”
“Where are we?” I asked, stepping into the house and kicking off my shoes.
“Chatham,” He replied, shrugging his jacket off. “It’s out of the way but I like the beach.”
The first thing I noticed was the large, beige sectional in the living room. On the wall was a large television above a faux fireplace. The entire house smelled like wood polish and oranges. I liked the carpeted floors and was pleasantly surprised by how clean everything was. There were no photos or personalized art hanging on the walls, but I guessed Jungkook never really liked those sorts of things. He was personable but in the moment. Jimin was a photo monster.
Thinking of my friend, I hoped he was alright. It was unlike him to go full radio silent. At the very least he would have called and checked in. Perhaps he had and no one bothered to tell me. Catching a glimpse of myself in the large, gold framed mirror hanging above the dining table, I flinched. 
I looked just as bad as I had begun to feel. I was tired, my eyes puffy, and I was embarrassed by the drool dried at the corner of my lip. My shoulder was stiff and uncomfortable from sleeping in the car and my clothes looked a mess. Jungkook had my duffle bag on his shoulder and I belatedly realized I have never even thought to grab it. I had not even brought it inside.
“Thank you,” I said.
Jungkook smiled at me. 
“It’s no problem. The room’s not being used anyway.”
“No,” I shook my head and walked up to him. Carefully taking the bag, I slug it over my shoulder with a knowing look. “Thanks for grabbing my shit. And for the room. I appreciate it.”
Jungkook scratched the back of his neck and turned red. He was not good with compliments no matter how much he seemed to enjoy them.
“Friends, right?”
I nodded, “Yeah.”
Walking past him, I distracted myself from my racing heart by figuring out where his washing machine was.
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After taking a shower, I tip-toed my way back to the room Jungkook had given me. I had been on edge since I got here. He was kind, caring, and attentive. I had never really seen someone show all three at the same time, and never toward me. My friends and I were subtle types, so to have someone so open and honest with their feelings was a hard pill to swallow. In California it was safe, in California it was expected, in California it was sacred; in Boston it was nerve wracking.
I could never be sure of how genuine Jungkook really was. When I was in his presence, it was easy to say that he was just that simple. Once I got alone it took all of me not to sneak out of a window and run. Hoseok had always said I needed to work on trusting people, so I would try.
I knew my behavior was only heightened by my attraction to him. Attractive people were the worst. Liking Jungkook would not do any favors for either one of us. I would get swallowed up by the life I so desperately wanted to leave, and Jungkook would be stuck in an awkward situation with the rest of the crew if it came to the light. No one would win and the outcome would be the same if I said anything or not. I was leaving Boston as soon as the situation was handled.
Luck was not on my side. As I turned the corner to reach the door of my bedroom, Jungkook was coming up the stairs. Carrying two cups, he flashed me a small smile and walked the rest of the way up. I froze in my spot. Caught red handed, I tried to play off my unsuccessful sneaking and took the cup with a smile. Jungkook did not seem to buy it but looked more amused than anything.
“What’s this?” I asked, smelling it.
“Cocoa,” He replied. “It’s not winter but still chilly.”
I nodded and took a generous sip. It was warm and silky. Humming in satisfaction, I took another sip and licked my top lip. Cocoa was one of my favorite things when I was a child. It was one of the few fond memories I had. Jungkook looked happy.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asked. “To get your mind off things?”
It was funny that he thought Ivan was what had been plaguing my mind. I may not be a very violent person now, but there was a time I was ruthless. The Russians did not scare me as much as they once had either. My initial response had been mostly shock, anger, and most of all, frustration. I had not been scared in a very long time. I doubted I ever would be.
“Sure,” I said, keeping my thoughts out of the conversation. What Jungkook did not know will not hurt him. He was only trying to help. “I’m not picky.”
Going down the stairs, I felt the same nervous butterflies growing in my stomach again. We were going to be closer than I would like to be. I was afraid of what that might do to the both of us. I did not know where Jungkook’s head was, but I was not foolish enough to believe that I was immune to any advances. The ball would stay in his court. I had enough self control to let that be a rule.
Sitting on the couch, I curled up on the end and waited. Netflix was already pulled up and waiting. Jungkook sat two cushions away. Picking up the remote from the coffee table, he began scrolling as we talked about possible movies to watch. We ended up on a random Jason Statham film. I watched mindlessly since every one of his movies were practically the same.
“Are you hungry?” Jungkook asked me fifteen minutes in, clearly bored and disinterested in the action sequence. I could not blame him. There was no way anyone could use a gun like that in real life, and I was becoming annoyed by the plot armor. “I have ramen.”
I nodded, “That’s fine.”
Moving to stand up, Jungkook waved me off and went to the kitchen himself. Not arguing, I got more comfortable and zoned out once more. It was hard not to feel the pull towards him. All I kept thinking about was the way his lips felt at the airport. Refocusing on the movie, I rolled my eyes at the bomb scene. There was no way in hell you were getting up and walking away from something that big.
Of course, Jason Statham had done just that. 
Jungkook came back a few minutes later, two large cups of ramen in hand, and sat down at the sofa. We ate in silence, neither one of us interrupting the bad movie again. When I went up to bed I could only think about how his hands would feel on me.
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Taglist: @ippid @jkslaugh97 @destructive-memories @ash07128 @heartjiminie @adventures-in-bookland @canyon-lwt​ 
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anneapocalypse · 1 year
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Demands of the Qun, or How the Inquisitor's Choice Answers the Iron Bull's Most Important Question
I was having a chat about the Iron Bull and his personal quest with some friends and one person said in response to something I said that I should make it a Post, so here it is! And a usual disclaimer: this is not about which in-game decision is "correct"--it's an RPG, there's no wrong way to play the game. I just want to talk about the meaning of this decision for Bull's character and for his future.
Dragon Age: Inquisition’s “Demands of the Qun” is, for me, one of those quests where the RPG format of “player character makes major decision for companion character” really works. I do not see this as an example of game mechanics taking away agency from an NPC. I think Bull has agency in this situation.
The Chargers are not Inquisition soldiers. They are mercenaries, and Bull is their commander. If the Inquisitor makes a call he doesn't like, he is free to say "Screw you" and take his people and leave, because they are not soldiers, they're independent contractors, so leaving isn't desertion, it's just quitting. If he were already certain he wanted to leave the Qun, he could simply call the retreat himself, take the Chargers and leave. Similarly if he were certain of his loyalties and willing to sacrifice the Chargers for that purpose, he could do that, regardless of what the Inquisitor says.
He lets the Inquisitor make this choice.
The Iron Bull has had one foot out the door of the Qun for a long time now. But he's gone back and gone back, submitted himself for re-education and done his best to keep serving the Qun, because he believes he needs the Qun. To him, becoming Tal-Vashoth means losing himself, his identity, his purpose, his very sanity, and as the Fade tells us in "Here Lies the Abyss," this is quite literally his greatest fear. Bull could never bring himself to leave the Qun with nowhere to go instead, nothing to give his life purpose and meaning—and no one to entrust himself to should he doubt his own sanity.
But in his work in the south, the Iron Bull has found community and identity and purpose outside the Qun. The very name he has given himself speaks to that, as does his close relationship to the Chargers.
Right from the beginning, there is tension in "Demands of the Qun." Bull remarks that he's gotten used to the Qunari being "over there" during his life in the south. I think Bull has a very potent anxiety when he meets Gatt again on the Storm Coast, and introduces him to the Inquisitor and their party. To me, it very much has the vibes of introducing two friend groups, where you're not only pretty sure they won't get along, but you're also very aware that they know very different sides of you—and neither of them are going to like seeing the other side. Bull's discomfort is visible both when Gatt speaks freely about Bull's work in the Ben-Hassrath, and when the Inquisitor's other companions make disparaging remarks about the Qun. His two worlds have collided, calling into conflict two sides of his sense of self that he has thus far managed to avoid confronting.
And this is likely part of the point. The Qun does not truly respect alliances with any outside the Qun. I wouldn't say for sure that the Qunari set up this whole situation just to test Bull—it's possible they knew exactly how many Venatori would show up, but they couldn't have known precisely how the Inquisition would respond. That, and their desire to root out the Venatori is no doubt sincere. But I do think they are watching Bull's actions very closely throughout this proposed alliance, gauging his loyalty. Gatt tells him outright that many already believe he has betrayed the Qun.
Bull's internal conflict quickly becomes an external one when the Venatori reinforcements show up, and Bull is faced with the decision of whether to withdraw the Chargers or defend the dreadnought at the cost of their lives.
The thing is, Bull is not neutral on this. He tells the Inquisitor what he wants. He wants to save the Chargers. If the Inquisitor says that the Chargers still have time to retreat, Bull agrees. When Gatt tells him they need to hold position, he says in a low, intense tone, "They're my men."
And then, when Gatt tells him in no uncertain terms that calling the retreat will make him Tal-Vashoth, the Iron Bull looks to the Inquisitor.
Again, he is not neutral. He knows what he wants. He is standing there basically begging the Inquisitor with his eyes to save his boys.
So why doesn't he just make the call himself?
Because just as this whole situation is in part a test of Bull's loyalty, this is also a test of the Inquisitor.
What Bull needs to leave the Qun is not simply for someone else to make the choice for him, but to believe that there is a future for him outside the Qun. That he will still be himself, that he will have purpose, and meaning, and that someone else is worth trusting. Bull cannot bring himself to leave the Qun if it means he will be left utterly alone with nothing but his own mind and his deepest fears. And if that's what leaving the Qun means… then in his mind, it would be better to stay.
The Inquisitor's choice will answer that question.
To sacrifice the Chargers leaves Bull with nothing outside of the Qun. He has just watched his closest friends die, and he cannot trust the Inquisitor. With Krem and Rocky and Skinner and Stitches and Dalish and Grim, the new sense of self that the Iron Bull has found in the south also dies.
Of course he turns back to the Qun. He has nothing else left.
But if it's the Inquisitor who makes the call to save the Chargers… Bull can leave. He has friends who care about him. He has purpose. He has someone whose command he can trust. He has hope. None of this makes the choice easy for him. It is quite clearly very painful and difficult, and I don't think there's any way it could be otherwise. But he has a way forward nonetheless. The choice makes leaving possible.
The Inquisitor doesn't force the Iron Bull to become Tal-Vashoth. Instead, Bull implicitly asks a question, and the Inquisitor by their choice gives him an answer.
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spdrwdw · 3 months
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can u write something abt miguel and the reader being childhood best friends but they grew apart and then met again years later and get together?
Of course! I have been planning on making a series based on my childhood friend headcanons
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Art By Shuploc
Pairing: Miguel x F!Reader
Warnings: None, no use of y/n. Warnings will change throughout the series. Each part will have their own warnings
Summary: You and Miguel were childhood bestfriends. You two did everything together, one never without the other. That is, until you both headed off your separate ways. Now, you move back to New York and bump into him. Will your old friendship with him continue? Will you get any closure? Also, who is this Spider-Man you keep running into?
A/N: So I am finally getting around to writing my childhood Miguel fic/series! I don't have a set number of parts this will be. Nor do I have a timeline of when I'm getting each part out as I am also going to be working on requests. But, I will put up a post for when I have a new part coming out a few days prior. This is going to take place in the future when you and Miguel are older. There may be flashbacks and I will be using my headcanons as inspo. POV will change from Miguel and reader. This is the prologue, giving us a little snippet of reader and Miguel when they were teens.
Word Count: 829
☆ Prologue ☆
Masterlist, WWWY Masterlist , part 1
☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. o .。.
"Hey, remember when we used to play pirates over at the jungle gym?" Miguel asked you as you both swung on the swings of your childhood playground.
You smiled and nodded your head, your mind drifting off to the wonderful memories of when you were both kids, playing with the other neighborhood kids. 
“Of course I do. I was only the best thing ever!” You laughed as you continued to swing. 
“The slides were our ship and the monkey bars were the only way to get to and from land. It was great, honestly,” you reminisced. 
The sun was beginning to set, and Miguel couldn’t help but to stare at you for a moment as the sunlight caught your profile. And Miguel was in complete awe. They way the sun seemed to just glisten your skin, giving you such an angelic glow that he suddenly felt unworthy of. It made his stomach turn a bit. 
He had been harboring feelings for you for quite some time, and he knew that if he didn’t confess them to you now, he knew he never would. 
“Hey..I know this is gonna sound crazy, but, I want to tell you something,” Miguel started, suddenly feeling very nervous. 
You looked over at him, a smile on your fine. “Hmm? What is it?”
God, that smile. It made his heart skip a beat every single time. He could stare at it forever. He wanted to. 
So badly. 
And yet…
“N-nevermind. It’s nothing,” he shook his head. 
You raised a brow at him. “You sure, Miggy?”
Damn, that nickname. Only those closest to him were allowed to call him that. However, hearing you saying it tugged at his heart a certain way. 
“Y-yeah. I’m sure,” he assured you, looking down at his feet as he continued to swing. The fact that the swing was able to hold him was a miracle. He had a huge growth spurt in high school that he stuck out like a sore thumb. Many thought that he was a basketball player with how tall he was. However, he was too bulky to be playing basketball, so he took on football instead. Not something he was planning on continuing on with. His passion was science. 
“It feels so surreal, doesn’t it? In a few months, we’ll be going off to college. You better text me, Miguel,” you told him, a pout in your face as you looked over at him. 
“Me oyes?” 
“Yeah, I hear ya,” Miguel chuckled, nodding his head. Of course he would keep contact with you. 
He then looked back down as he stilled himself on the swing. He really needed to tell you before it was too late. It was already too late. You two were headings off to different universities. You’d only see each other during holidays and summer break. But, it could still work out, right? 
Well, he’d have to tell you first. 
And he was already chickening out. 
You two had been through so much together. Had done so many things together. You were his best friend and he was yours. Since kindergarten, you two were inseparable. You were both each other’s first in..a lot of things. You had your first kiss with him. You were his first crush, and you both lost your virginity to each other. That..that was an experience. 
Miguel didn’t want to say goodbye. He didn’t want to let you go. But, such was life, right? Plus, you both promised to keep in touch. 
And you both were good about keeping promises. 
Or so Miguel thought. 
“Come on, Miggy. We should start heading back home. It’s getting late. And we need to be up early for tomorrow,” you told him as you let your feet touch the ground, putting your swing to a stop before getting off. 
Miguel followed suit with a nod of his head, swinging himself as high as he could before jumping off, landing on his feet with a thud. 
“You’re gonna mess up your knees,” you tsked at him, shaking your head as you began to make your way along the dirt path that led to the neighborhood sidewalk. 
“Eh, I’ll be okay,” Miguel chuckled as he waved you off.
You both walked side by side, hands teasingly brushing against each other. Fingers threatening to intertwine. You looked up at him, and he was already glancing down at you. You never spoke about your relationship. What were you two, exactly? It wasn’t just friendship anymore. But, neither of you managed to bring it up. You wondered what his thoughts were. 
Miguel walked you up the steps to your house, standing in front of you, hands stuffed in his pockets as he shuffled a bit. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he told you. 
“See you tomorrow, Miguel,” you replied with a smile just before Miguel leaned into you, capturingyour lips in a kiss. 
Possibly what would be the last kiss you’d ever receive from him.
☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. o .。.
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popponn · 3 months
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a cushion, two continents away. [isagi yoichi x reader]
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note: i wrote this in one sitting out of need. a loving yoichi is a warm thought and while this isn't how i imagined the 'first fit of madness in a while' would go, please do know it is one. yoichi is considerate, but yoichi likes affection. that's the thought. warning: none, isagi is full of love and wants to be clingy, post canon pro player au, reader's gender unspecified.
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“Please motivate me,” you say to the screen. Isagi tries his best not to ask why you are burying your face in your hands instead of greeting him with a smile. His hunch tells him you might cry if he does that. “Please motivate me, or I might cry.”
Isagi really tries his best not to follow his instinct to ask are you okay there and then. With a smile he hopes doesn’t come out as an exact grimace, he laughs and makes a silent note to order you your favorite drink online later. Paying mind to his sleeping teammates, he whispers, “I don’t know what’s happening here, but hang in there, okay?”
As if being cued by his voice, you finally peek at his face. Even with only part of your face unhidden by your palms, Isagi notices that you are making a face at something—which is probably whatever your workload is now and the fact that he is two continents away from you.
“Why are you away?” you ask, a mix of pout and annoyance haunting your voice, “I want to work while sitting in your lap. I want a back hug. I want a hug. I want you here.”
“Please don’t turn me into a cushion,” Isagi says, even though the two of you know that he will do it happily and readily. Complete with his head on your shoulder, peering at your laptop. Probably, also while sharing warm drinks with you.
Good—Isagi holds back a groan. Now he wants to go home too.
Which shouldn’t be impossible. The match is done, Bachira and Rin are asleep so they can’t snitch, maybe if he runs to the airport now—
“I’m going to sound like a hypocrite. And also this is painful for me to say,” you interrupt his train of thought with a mock of a strict expression, “but please don’t.”
Isagi chews the inside of his cheek, “…but. It’s—”
“I’m not listening to you,” you cut off, despite obviously trying to hold back a smile. But, as quick as that pretty expression of yours comes, Isagi doesn’t get much time to admire it. You soon turn away to somewhere off-screen, facing what seems to be your work with a sigh. “…now, I think I have to go.”
Looking at you and hearing the imminent farewell, Isagi wants to make you stay more than anything. Having a simple celebration between you and him, even through a video call, after a win sounds like heaven. But of course, unfortunately, he is mature enough to know asking that from you is impossible for now.
But, Isagi is self-aware. He is egoistic and stubborn when he wants something. So, he asks, “Can we stay on call? I will be good.”
“…be good, huh?” you parrot his wording. A light chuckle comes out just barely from you.
“You know what I mean,” Isagi shifts on his bed. Lying on his side while hugging his pillow to his body, pretending it’s you. He buries his face into the plush cotton. God—he really wishes this pillow was you now.
Never once did his eyes leave you. He watches as you stay silent, considering for a moment. Then, finally, after a few wordless moments, you finally glance back to him, “…you know I can’t deny that puppy look, right?”
“Stop calling it puppy look,” Isagi denies. He knows he is wearing the expression you often call ‘pouting’.
To that, you finally laugh out loud. For a moment you truly look like there is no burden on you and Isagi considers going on with the pointless debate if he could keep that good look on you forever. Sadly, he knows you should work the moment you fully turn your face to the side. The clicking sounds of keyboards and mouse clicks replace your voice.
“Sure, sure, I will,” you say. Isagi merely hums as he looks at you.
He really should be a good boyfriend and pretend he is your sitting cushion right now.
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