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#if y'all want change you can't just pretend change is impossible
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I love being vagueblogged about not being "politically pragmatic" by someone who simultaneously acknowledges that there are more than two options on a ballot and also says there are only two options to choose from.
Look, I'm not blind to the fact that it's very likely that a Democrat or Republican will win this election, and the next election, and likely even the election after that. But the only way to even attempt to make sure that the election after that can be won by literally anything else is to first acknowledge that more than two options exist. That is quite literally the bare minimum.
These same people who will continually beat the dead horse of "there's only two options" will, at the same time, bitch and moan about the one of these two options that they picked, complain about how fucked up the system is for only having two options, tell everyone that we need to fix the system to have more than two options, etc. But then election season rolls around again, and like clockwork we hear the same tired bullshit from these people: "Vote Blue No Matter Who" and "This is the most important election in history!!"
And like clockwork, y'all will vote for the Big Blue Man y'all hate to love and love to hate, and then we get another four years of bitching about how no progress is being made to resolve this situation. Meanwhile anytime even so much as breathes the idea that other options exist, you scream them down and repeat the same tired bullshit mentioned above.
So yes, a Democrat or a Republican will very likely win this year, and the next, and the next. But if you continue to refuse to acknowledge any other possibility, then you are quite literally part of the problem.
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oh-meretseger · 3 months
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part 2 (of whatever this is) - Clean Freak
attack on titan modern college au // Jean Kirstein x fem!reader
notes: 18+! smut (there will be a lot more coming, I’m pouring all my fantasies into this fic lmao so bear with me), Jean being quite a pervert, fantasizing about oral, masturbation
word count: 3,4k
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“You're gonna let Jean see you in THAT?!" Sasha yelled out suddenly, right after she promised to stay when Jean was coming over to your dorm to finally finish your project. You had to complete it by Friday, and it was already Wednesday, leaving you the most frustrated with Jean you've ever been. His immature approach to the whole thing made you question how he even got admission to college. The way he ignored all the work and instead kept stealing your notes, your glasses, he pulled your hair, poked his fingers between your ribs made you think he was actually a toddler in an muscular man's giant costume...
"Yeah, you're right, I can't show any surface of skin around that manchild" you glanced in the mirror, and quickly grabbed a pair of sweatpants to slide over the tight shorts that covered definitely too little. Your arms were already covered in bruises due to all the damn poking, pinching and suffering Jean put you through this week. You couldn't let him target your legs next.
Since that ominous day in the library, Jean was more insufferable than ever. You had a feeling that it had to do with the multiple seconds you were kneeling on his lap, pressed up against his chest and face... And the awkward, quiet minutes after that you spent trying to hide your blood red face. You tried to ignore the heat that spread through your body whenever that moment popped into your mind, because it just left you confused.
You also tried not to look Jean into his eyes after that, if not necessary, but you could definitely sense him get ten times more irritating since.
And working on that project with him became impossible.
But you guys finally managed to arrange you and Sasha getting a two-bed dorm room together, and it seemed like the perfect, most peacful place to finally finish the project. With Sasha being there, you hoped you both would detain from bullying the hell out of each other, and actually get the work done.
"Pookie, stop covering up, just let it happen" Sasha laughed, sitting on her bed while watching as your movements became nervous. You turned to her confused. "How long are y'all going to pretend you're not into each other?"
You blushed instantly and turned away, hoping she wouldn't see you getting embarassed right away. What is she talking about?
"Sasha-" you awkwardly searched for the right words to reply, and Sasha chuckled again. "Stop being crazy. We're not into each other"
"Sure, Jan" she replied raising her eyebrows, and you let out a giggle at the joke. Although you wanted her to know how much of an insane idea it was to think that you and Jean...
"He's a damn playboy, he probably has a roaster of girls from around the campus that I definitely wouldn't fit into" you said your thoughts out loud while folding the few pieces of clothes laying around on your bed. "He's an annoying idiot anyway"
"He doesn't have a roaster of girls, actually. But I see why you would think that" Sasha smiled as she watched your movements in the mirror. "He does seem like an arrogant jock, but I've known him for years. He's a sweetheart. And there's definitely something between you two, so stop denying it to yourself, missy”
You quickly turned your back to her while quietly smiling at her words. You hoped she couldn't see, but she chuckled as she caught a glimpse of the curve of your lips in the mirror. Sasha grabbed the pair of jeans laying next to her and started changing her comfy joggers.
"He does seem arrogant, and he makes me go insane on purpose" you frowned, putting the stack of folded clothes away to your closet. "But I've only known him for a few months, so surely, you know him better"
"I do, and he's great. And don't call me Shirley" Sasha jumped from the bed, trying to use the momentum to get her butt into the tight jeans, and you bursted out laughing as you turned to her.
Your smile faded rather quickly as you saw her changing her shirt as well, as if she was getting ready to go out.
"Where are you going?!"
"Oooh sorry, Y/N, I forgot I already made plans with Hisu to go out, we're getting froyo" her eyes sparked with pure joy at those last few words, and you felt yourself shatter, instantly starting to panic.
"NO! You promised you would stay!"
"I knowww, I really am sorry" Sasha pouted, and quickly grabbed her cute little crotcheted bag on her way to the door, as you both heard a loud knock. That pout was SO fake, you knew she was doing this on purpose... Whatever her goal was. "I'll bring you a cup of that blueberry one you like, I promise"
"YOU PRO-" you froze in your place as Sasha reached the door and it swung open, revealing Jean standing in the doorway.
"Hi, Jean!" Sasha looked up at him with the most cheerful, chirping voice, as if she didn't just betray you with this evil surprise of hers. Of course, she'd made no plans to go out with Hisu whatsoever, but she did miss her, and getting multiple cups of froyo sounded like a great afternoon plan. Besides, she did want to leave you and Jean to be in private, completely alone...
"Hi, are you not-"
"No, no, no, I've got EXTREMELY important places to be" Sasha cut Jean off as she grabbed him by his jersey, then yanked him through the doorway and into the room. You stood there in shock, watching her leave you, with him, to suffer.
"Sasha!"
"Bye, pookies!"
BANG. The door slammed shut behind her, and you two were left there, completely alone. Your eyes darted to him, and Jean adjusted the jersey on his chest that Sasha nearly ripped apart a few seconds ago.
He was clearly coming from hockey practice, you could tell not only by the oversized jersey he wore, but also by the way his hair looked. It was messy, a few ashy brown strands sticking to his temple, wet with sweat, although it seemed like he did try to quickly comb it back. His face was flushed, the skin on his cheekbones and nose dusted with a reddish tint, his lips plump and wet from the empty water bottle he held in his hand. Your eyes wandered to the stubble on his sharp jawline, fading down to his neck. The skin slightly glistened from sweat, the muscles creating lines of shadow as he raised his head...
"The hell's wrong with her" he murmured frowning, looking up to see you staring right at him. As the hazel eyes met with yours, the heat forming in your center turned into a definite warm, tingling sensation between your legs, and you felt yourself starting to melt.
What. The. Hell.
There's no way you're getting wet at the sight of this idiot, dripping with sweat, smelling like a boy's locker room.
"I don't know, she's in silly goose mode today" you quickly shrugged and turned your head to break the few moments of silence of you looking into each other's eyes. Jean held back a smile forming on his face, and he dropped his backpack on the rug next to your bed.
"Sorry for being late, practice lasted a little longer than I expected" he apologized, throwing himself on the end of your bed without a second thought. You instantly felt your stomach drop at the thud, and turned to see the most horrific sight you could ever imagine.
Jean's sweaty, dirty body laying on your clean, white bedsheets.
"JEAN!"
"Are you fucking crazy?!" Jean yelled out, half-laughing from the element of surprise, as he tried to defend himself from your immediate attack. You jumped on the bed and started pushing his body down with all the strength you could gather. "AGH, you're breaking my ribs, you rat!"
"Get off of my bed, you're fucking dirty!" you groaned as Jean put his big ass palm on your forehead, trying to get you off of him. An intense wave of anger fueled your effort to move the sweaty body twice as big as yours. "You're getting your sweat all over my stuff!"
"You should be grateful for any bodily fluid of a man touching your stuff" Jean laughed, and moved his palm to cover and smush the whole of your face, when you decided that pushing with your hands was not enough, and started bullying his ribcage with your knee. Your shouts were muffled by his hand pressed into your face, but instead of giving up, you decided to let your teeth do the talking for you. "AARGH!"
Jean's muscles lost their defensive tension due to the  sharp pain of your teeth sinking into his palm, and taking adventage of his momentary weakness, you pushed him as hard as you could. His body rolled over and landed on the hardwood floor with a loud thud.
"You're fucking insane" Jean pushed himself to slowly sit up, examining his other hand that you injured with a painful hiss leaving his mouth.
"PTUH, did you not wash your hands after digging in dirt?!" you growled at him, trying to spit out the dirty taste his hand left in your mouth. But that's what you get for biting him, you guessed.
You frantically started brushing off your face when you realized, it was not only your mouth that Jean's dirty palm got smushed into, but also the precious skin of your face.
"Yeah, I jerked off with that hand after that, hope you like the taste" Jean scoffed at you, but the smug look on his face quickly turned into an honest burst of chuckle as he watched you stick out your tongue, trying to get him out of your mouth by the little spitting sounds you were doing.
"You're a prick"
"And you're clinically insane, but here we are" he replied, then pushed himself from the floor to stand up. You followed his actions, then stepped to your closet as you shook your head.
"Here" you threw your largest oversized t-shirt you could find in his direction, and he reached to catch it, followed by the clean towel tossed to his chest. "You can take a shower here"
"A shower?"
"You will NOT rub your sticky body all over my bed" you crossed your arms, looking over to him. You could feel your lips curve into a smile, seeing the confused look on his face, still flushed from running from practice and of course brutally fighting with you. Confusion on that smug face of Jean's was a rare sight to see.
And it was kinda cute.
Huh?
You quickly shook your head to get rid of the stupid thoughts, and pointed your finger in the direction of the bathroom of your dorm. "You stink"
"Get off my back, I'll sit on the chair then" Jean gestured towards the only chair in the room, being Sasha's comfy rolling desk chair - which she definitely didn't want smelling of a dirty, sweating man. You shook your head. "C'mon, I skipped showering and dropped off my stuff at my dorm just to get here in time because of your bitching ass!"
"Don't care, didn't ask" you replied with a snarky, forced smile, and tossed a pair of Connie's sweatpants to him. He lended it to Sasha a few days back, after she yeeted a bucket of chocolate ice cream into her lap at Connie’s and Jean’s dorm.
"Thanks, dipshit" Jean grimaced right back at you, and accepting his loss, turned his back to you to walk into your bathroom. You couldn't help staring at the broad shoulders, his wide back muscles moving under the jersey as he moved, just like his glute muscles under the sweatpants that became visible where the jersey rode up... "Hey, these are my sweats!"
"Tell Connie, he's the one giving away your stuff" you replied with a smirk. "You're welcome, by the way"
Jean shut the door behind him, and you threw yourself on your bed, burying your face in your hands. What the actual fuck is happening in your head?
Jean in your bathroom, on the other hand, was not so confused by his feelings as you were by yours.
He stood in front of the sink and lifted the shirt you gave him up to his face. He closed his eyes as the familiar smell of you filled his nose. It was a clean, kind of a sweet scent, that he knew exactly from all the times he got into your face, bullying you to insanity in the past few weeks.
He smiled to himself at the thought, and threw the clean clothes on the edge of the sink. It was a small bathroom, full of a bunch of shampoo bottles, cream jars, serums, pots, and whatever other girly products he couldn't identify to save his life. There was not much room to put any of his stuff.
Jean started taking his clothes off, and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sink. You were kinda right, he did look dirty. His hair was a mess, a few strands dripping of sweat and stuck to his face and neck.
He saw you staring at it when he caught your eyes after Sasha left.
Maybe you thought of him the same way he thought of you? The way he still saw you as a stuck up little nerd, but found you more and more attractive the more he got under your skin, just turned him on so much. More than anything. Maybe it was because your angry moments made your tough, icy shell break, that you specifically made just to hide from him. And under that shell, you were not the mousy dork you wanted him to see.
His dirty, sweat-drenched clothes dropped on the tile floor one by one, as Jean got completely undressed. He saw you getting flustered more and more frequently, when you two were close to each other. He wondered if you thought of him getting naked in that small bathroom right now.
You absolutely did. You felt your cheeks growing warm under your palms, as you laid there, face still buried in your hands, Jean getting undressed on the other side of the door being the only thought in your mind. You wanted to stop the thoughts, but they sent waves of warmth down your body, making you throb in your panties...
And it felt good.
You've been denying the pleasure of letting these thoughts flow free for weeks now. You gave up. He was within a few feet from you, and he was probably already naked.
Jean grabbed the clean towel, and swiftly looked around to find a place to put it, where it'll be within reach from the shower. There was a wicker basket half-full of clothes, with a familiar pair of socks thrown on the top, covered in small little teddy bears. That was definitely Sasha's. Next to it was what looked like another laundry box. That must be yours.
Jean stopped for a moment. Instead of simply using it as a temporary towel holder, he stepped closer to the box and slowly lifted the lid.
Yes, it was definitely yours.
After a quick glance at the closed door, he carefully reached into it, pulling out a familiar lilac top of yours. He remembered it, because it was quite a tight one, not like your usual baggy t-shirts that you liked to hide under. This one top made it hard for him not to look at the round outlines of your perfect tits, your nipples poking through the thin fabric. Jean lifted the top to his nose, getting a whiff of your sweet scent.
Jean felt like such a fucking pervert at that moment. There has never been a need for him to get creepy, he could basically get any girl he wanted. There was not one time when he felt called to stalk on anyone, or act out of line, being in their bathroom and smelling their used clothes.
Dear lord.
He almost, almost convinced himself to cut it off, and just take a shower. But as he reached to drop the lilac top back in the box, a pair of panties caught his eye on top of the laundry. Fuck.
Jean already felt himself getting hard as he pulled out the soft piece of fabric, and felt it between the tips of his fingers. It was a simple cotton pair, with a blue little bow at the top. Jean closed his eyes, imagining the bow sitting right above your little pussy, and blood flowed into his groin, his cock getting rock hard in no time.
He let out a quiet sigh as he imagined how your wet folds must taste just as sweet and salivating as you smelt. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was extremely wrong... But he also couldn't stop now.
Jean wrapped his fingers around his hardened cock, and jerked himself a little bit while thinking of how he would lick and tease your little clit through this soft fabric. His tip started glistening with precum as the thought of you moaning in pleasure filled his mind. Your eyes would be looking into his, your long eyelashes blinking down at him, practically pleading him to pull the panties aside and lick your wet, creamy center.
"Holy shit" Jean whispered with a quiet, low groan and hesitated for a moment, before wrapping the pair of panties around his achingly hard cock. He had to gather all his strength to hold back his moans as he started to slide them up and down on his shaft. This is so wrong.
But he so desperately wanted to be inside of you.
He bit down on his lower lip, tightening your panties around the head of his cock. The precum leaking from the tip started to form a wet little patch on the fabric. The softness of it, your smell still lingering in his nose and overwhelming his senses, the image in his head of your legs spread wide open for him... It just felt so fucking good.
Jean started to let out a few quiet sighs as he let himself enjoy the thought of eating you out, then the whole of his body jerked in shock as a loud knock on the bathroom door stopped him in his tracks.
"Jean, what the hell are you doing? Quit admiring yourself in the mirror and get in the shower, we don't have all day" you yelled through the door. It took you multiple seconds to talk yourself out of peeping through the keyhole.
Jean quickly dropped the panties back into the laundry box and closed the lid. You heard the shower start running in no time, and you threw yourself on the bed again, as if burying your face in the pillows made all your dirty little thoughts of him go away. You imagined as water ran down on his skin, wetting his hair, dripping from his most sensitive parts...
"Holy fucking shit, I'm out of my mind" you murmured into the pillow, and cursed Sasha for leaving you to suffer in this situation.
And for being so right about you being into him.
In little less than ten minutes, the bathroom door swung open and with a cloud of hot steam around him, Jean appeared wearing the clean clothes you gave him. You sat up on your bed, and instantly bursted out laughing at the sight.
His own grey sweatpants obviously fit him right, but the large t-shirt you lended him was so tight around his chest and shoulders, it looked like it was moments from tearing apart. Not to mention the length of the shirt on his tall frame left the lower part of his stomach completely uncovered.
"I like your crop top, babygirl" you grinned looking up at his face, and Jean frowned, but you could see the glimpse of the smile he was holding back. You forced yourself to ignore the wetness you felt spreading in your panties as you looked at his happy trail peeking from under your shirt. The V-line formed by his hips lead your eyes right down to the crotch of his sweatpants, and you felt yourself blush again.
This was going to be a misery, that was for sure.
"Shut up, clean freak" Jean growled and occupied his well deserved place on the end of your bed.
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esther-dot · 11 months
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"You are Arya of Winterfell, daughter of the North. You told me you could be strong. You have the wolf blood in you." (Arya X ASOS)
The old gods legitimately spoke to Arya using Ned's voice in order to give her strength to leave Harrenhal. So the gods of the North is using the former Lord of Winterfell's voice while calling Arya a "daughter of the North" apparently means nothing ? Seriously though, if Sansa had a similar scene Stansas would never shut up about it and claim it's proof for Sansa ruling the North, but apparently when it's Arya it means nothing ? Typical. Just how Arya naming her direwolf after a queen and said direwolf is leading a huge pack of wolves also means nothing even though we know the direwolves names are foreshadowing for their owners, means nothing as well. And this isn't even accounting the fact that Arya fits Varys' ideal ruler speech, and all of the other rulership/queen foreshadowing Arya has which is way more than what Sansa has. Arya has also expressed wanting to build castles, is the current Lady of Winterfell by proxy, has enacted Northern Justice, has offered protection and food to a man of the Night's Watch, and has major themes of mercy, justice, and service/humility, which are all essential to being a good ruler. Stansas could only dream that Sansa had all of this, but she doesn't, and I think GRRM has put so much in Sansa's way of ever ruling the North that it has to mean something. So unless Sansa jumps through twenty complicated hoops and changes who she is fundamentally than it's highly unlikely she'll ever rule the North.
(about this ask)
"I think GRRM has put so much in Sansa's way of ever ruling the North...."
Let's sit and think about this for a moment. LF, the evil mastermind, is currently scheming how to retake Winterfell with Sansa, is working to get her the great fighting force of the KotV, and you're telling me that Martin is placing obstacles in Sansa's path re: getting North/ruling it? We have a character who has successfully schemed his way from nothing to positions of great power working to install Sansa as leader of the North and you want me to believe there's nothing to indicate she's gonna be in a position of power? We have a prophecy about Sansa slapping LF's head on Winterfell's Wall, so we know the girl goes North, we know she out-maneuvers that bastard, and you're telling me that's Martin's way of indicating it’s impossible for her to end up ruling the North?
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I deliberately didn't use general tags on my other posts because I know y'all screenshot anything in the anti tags to harass us, and I don't like arguing anymore because it's such a waste of time. I politely disagreed with you, I told you your effort is wasted on me, I don't know why you're persisting. In my last message, I tried to explain that all of our beloved POVs are used to discuss certain themes. I stipulated that a large chunk of Arya's story involves justice/mercy, but explained that since so many characters examine the same idea, we can't say "hey, hey! Justice=leadership=endgame queen!" I mean, Dany and Cersei are the women with experience ruling and both of them are gonna end the series dead (regardless of how you interpret Dany, tragic hero/fall arc etc, everyone knows it ends badly for her). 🤷🏻‍♀️
"Stansas could only dream...."
I don't need to dream. Sansa watched Ned handle things at court while hand, she's learning how to work people from LF, she is running a household, she's taking care of a kid, she's now being forced to charm a loser....honestly, this is stuff that is just as important for a woman to know if she is to be LoW or a queen, and let's not even get into how, while a prisoner herself she intervenes to save a life, how, although she is powerless, Martin writes her to inspire people to be more, to be better, to loyalty and protection. Don't try to pretend that Sansa doesn't have gobs of stuff that are just as easily used to defend spec she ends up in a leadership role in the North. In addition to LF’s plans we even have the other smartpants Tyrion thinking about what a great queen she would be. We’re meant to draw some conclusions from that. 😅 And, considering Martin's anti war/anti violence stance, her compassion for her enemies and her mercy are why thematically she would be part of a better future for the North.
But, we have the revelation that King Bran is Martin's endgame to factor in. I thought Sansa was destined to be a queen, King Bran has made me question it (why would Westerosi Lords select a Stark to lead them if the North goes free/has it's own queen?). So, I now look at what we might otherwise call foreshadowing with a little more skepticism. Jon literally has a raven screeching, "King" in his ear and we have arguments about a) his legitimacy and b) whether or not he will be a ruler of any kind pretty routinely, so I'm not targeting Arya when I say, nah, that's not foreshadowing. My favs are Jon and Sansa, and I now rethink what certain passages indicate for them.
Maybe it would help if you think of it this way. This isn't some sort of competition in which whoever has the more popular theory will magically manifest it or if you harass people into silence their theory will be wrong. Martin has known his ending for decades, I don't think I will ever get a chance to read it, so the only "winning" there is for us is to enjoy the fandom experience. It is a waste of your time (and mine!) to harass strangers on the internet when none of us will ever be right or proven wrong. Make your peace with us all disagreeing, forever being dissatisfied, and go have fun! The only ending I will ever get is not one that made me happy, but you don't see me making that other people's problem.
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melis-writes · 9 months
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Why you don’t like Apollonia? (I get this vibe from u, but correct me if I’m wrong)
You're 100% correct about the vibes. 🤣🤣 I don't like Apollonia at all, whatsoever and it's because the Godfather fandom completely ruined her character for me. 🥰
It's not just the new Godfather enjoyers, like gen z or millennials but also the boomers. Apollonia is sadly a vessel for misogyny in the Godfather from Apollonia stans alone. I can't look past it even if I tried; I get Apollonia stans commenting nasty shit on my gifsets of Kay (that's how annoying + bothered they are) and trying to start discourse over any post that highlights a miniscule positive thing about Kay Adams.
It's disgusting to see how Apollonia is glorified for being the quiet, submissive and obedient housewife. She's what Michael "needs" and is the "perfect wife" and the ones that put Apollonia on a pedestal like this are misogynists, vehemently sprout the nastiest shit about Kay and women like Kay that you'll ever hear, talk about how Apollonia could have "changed" and "fixed" Michael (dude is beyond redemption and is almost a sociopath) and could have birthed him "lots of babies". Literally, that's all Apollonia is "known" for and loved for, it's pathetically sad. The bar really is in hell.
So while Apollonia is praised for all of these hypothetical scenarios, Kay and women like Kay are shit on, ridiculed and picked apart to pieces. It's disgusting and whether it's a boomer enjoyer or someone my age, they'll be saying the exact same shit like it's scripted or clockwork or something about Apollonia every single time.
Apollonia's young age is also glorified even though she's a minor/child, and don't even get me started on the scene of her undressing in front of Michael--I know it's a little off topic and more about Simonetta as an actress but the fact that there's grown ass men fawning over a minor's breasts makes me want to actually vomit.
Putting aside the misogynistic culture some Godfather fans have placed upon Apollonia here, I don't like the character itself. To me, it's obvious she was a filler, empty character Mario Puzo wrote and used to develop Michael's character development because she's literally never mentioned again unless you want to count Michael confessing to Kay he "slept with someone" in the book while he was abroad.
Apollonia was never in love with Michael and Michael wasn't in love with her. Apollonia's father got giddy at the idea of his daughter's beauty bringing in a rich, powerful and influential man who was the son of a Vito Corleone. Nobody cared what else Michael had to offer the Vitelli family besides reputation, wealth and physical protection. Nothing even mentions if anyone cared how Michael would treat Apollonia but oh boy, Michael showed it well. He literally refused to let her leave home for a week and all he did was have sex with her over and over again. And every single time, Apollonia would just get up, shower, fuck off and do something and Michael would just lay there. She would just do whatever he wanted and yet somehow, the Godfather fandom is screaming "true love" and "soulmate" when it's literally just Michael being horny. I need y'all to understand this man was thinking with his dick only.
I don't care who likes/stans Apollonia, all I want is for people to be respectful about the whole Apollonia and Kay thing. If Apollonia's as amazing as some people claim, then I'd sure hope she can brought up without the mention of Michael being in a relationship with her and without dissing Kay in the same sentence (IMPOSSIBLE CHALLENGE EDITION).
Apollonia and the whole Sicily arc is so far gone and damaged to me that I just skip that scene when watching the movie and pretend it didn't happen because of all the bullshit that went out in the fandom and is still ongoing today. 😐
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mermaidsirennikita · 2 years
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There's definitely a connection going on with the whole sanitized media, purity culture, unproblematic fave era that's happening right now. You brought up David Bowie who is not the only one. There comes a point when people don't want to pull on the thread because they will realize most popular entertainers have been accused (and are most likely guilty) of assault, domestic violence, rape or have probably been with underaged girls or boys. And as much as they don't want to be seen enjoying, stanning or shipping something problematic that's in fact impossible. So that's why we get people defending or denying or outright refusing to acknowledge the problematic behaviours of not only their faves but people in popular culture.
I think people do need to accept that the vast majority of the people they like, who are famous, have done something they won't like. Depending on when the person became famous, some of the sins may be lesser... But it's a fucked industry. You could have someone posting a really shitty slut-shaming comment, someone liking something they shouldn't. Tbh, social media usage is the downfall of most more recent/"woke" celebs today--people need to realize that they really shouldn't have public social media accounts unless they're going to pay a social media team. And even using a private account is dangerous, unless you seriously limit who has access and ensure that your password is changed constantly.
Then there are more serious crimes--actual crimes. Most of your favorites, especially if they are male, especially if they are white and male and of a certain era, have done something fucked. Even the squeaky cleanest of people... just aren't perfect.
The issue that we have in this purity culture is that people don't understand that everyone's threshold is different. For example--I know David Bowie had sex with underage girls. I also do enjoy his music. It's something I have difficulties with. I also love Prince's music, despite him doing the same shit. I can still listen to their music and enjoy it; I am figuring out how to do that while acknowledging what they did and not supporting that, but it's difficult, right? And the threshold is personal; I used to fucking love some Michael Jackson songs, but what I've heard from his victims....... I can't handle that anymore.
However, all of those men? Hugely important to music history, development, and pop culture. No matter what else comes out about them, on top of the other horrid shit, that is literally impossible to change, and that's something a lot of purity police seem to struggle with. It super doesn't matter if you say "DID Y'ALL KNOW THAT PRINCE HAD SEX WITH UNDERAGE GIRLS???? JAIL FOREVER, HOW COULD YOU EVER LISTEN TO PRINCE". The impact has been made. There are artists who wouldn't exist now without Prince, Bowie, MJ--and there are artists who will exist because of those artists, and so on. There are millions of moments that have been made in pop culture and in individual people's lives because of these artists, because of Elvis, and so on. And we can acknowledge this and discuss it and critique it and make an effort to not support artists who still do this shit, but we cannot pretend that these people who did horrible shit didn't shape culture. I'm sorry. We just can't. You'll sit there saying that Bowie is evil and rotting in hell and you'll never support him, and boom--you go to a movie and a Bowie song is playing. A song that would not exist if Bowie hadn't existed is playing.
That's kind of the nature of the game, and always has been. Successful artists make a fuckton of money for their industries, please their patrons, what have you... And so they are given excuses. It super doesn't fucking matter if you like it or not, so how about let's not focus on shaming people for enjoying those artists in a world that encourages them to do so, and we focus on processing what these artists have done and taking steps to ensure that people can't do what they do in the future. I'm not going to beat you up for loving Bowie's music--but I am going to have an issue with you trying to cover up his bad behavior. I'm just not going to be an obnoxious asshole and be like "DIDN'T YOU KNOW WHAT HE DID????" when I fucking know you know what he did.
And the same can be said for historical figures in general by the way. It's not just about music or film or TV, etc.
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wisemins · 4 months
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Entry 1 | (1/30/24)
Just gonna start spewing my thoughts a bit when I can, I'm starting a new journey as of last night to really, really try to help my self-loathing and to gain a better sense of self and self-worth. Will also involve f/o stuff. I'll just be keeping these under read mores if y'all don't wanna read <3
So last night I just really broke down. To be short about it I'm just so tired of sabotaging myself and being my worst enemy and my worst advocate. I can't let myself have anything and there was something that my girlfriend said to me that made it all finally just...click. I was apologizing to her for being so "impossible" and for being so hard to deal with and then she said. "I'm not the one you need to apologize to." As in, I needed to apologize to myself. That the person I was being mean to, that I was bullying and making cry almost every day needed an apology because of how I'm treating her. It changed my perspective a lot, somehow. With self-shipping most of us learn to in some degree appreciate ourselves more because we are force to perceive ourselves from our f/os perspectives, a not so harsh view, right? Well my self-loathing is so bad that most days I can't even imagine them wanting to perceive me, and they are just with me *just because*. It's been such a hard time to cope with that, but I want to change it. I want to feel loved and cared for by them again, not just take care of them. That is a popular theme too, me taking care of everyone around me, always, and purposefully leaving no room left for myself because at times it hurt to receive affection and love, whether real or fictional. I just felt so undeserving and as if I wasn't *meant* to be loved, only to give love. That's a very isolating feeling. Throughout my life it felt like it continued to get proven again, and again. But in the end I need to realize that I do deserve love and to be taken care of too. I deserve to feel good, despite what my mind might say. I'm so fearful usually, that if I let myself have good things or be happy for myself or imagine my fictional loves loving me, that somehow it makes me self-centered and selfish. That's an irrational fear, obviously. But this all really just put it into perspective. I want to do better, but I also need to. I cannot continue on going like this anymore, it's too much. I destroy myself every day because others in my past have made me feel undeserving, and eventually I became that source of hatred. I don't want to hate myself anymore. My girlfriend also said something else that really hit home. "Would you say all the things you say to yourself to your face?" And, my answer was no. and she followed up with: "Would you make yourself cry like you do now, if she was in front of you?" And my answer was no, followed by more crying. My girlfriend said that was because I'm not a mean person like I said I was. I was convinced that I was a horrible, rude, and mean person who secretly was some kind of self-centered piece of shit that was angry and conceited and undeserving. But I couldn't stand to watch myself cry, to make myself cry like I always do. I say such horrible things to myself, at myself, hoping to destroy any more will to let myself have anything because it hurts so much to be vulnerable. But I need to be vulnerable, I need to learn how to express my feelings. I want to. I'm tired of shutting everything out, pretending it's all fine when I abuse myself daily. I don't deserve that.
And honestly, I don't think my f/os would be cool with me being this cruel to myself. I never like to acknowledge it because it forced me to face how wrong I was, but sometimes the darker hours would come and I would believe they'd believe it too. Or worst yet, I was plagued by the idea of indifference. How my beloveds wouldn't hate me, but rather, be completely and utterly indifferent toward me. That hurt the most, because as we all know (thank you desperate housewives) the opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference. So I've dug holes within my ships, with the thought that my f/os, sometimes my most prized and long-lived f/os, would feel indifferent toward me. And it hurts, it hurts so much. I know they would never act like that or treat anyone that way ever, but it always feels like I'm the exception. But I know I'm not. I'm worthy of their love and care and affection, it's just so hard to see sometimes. I'm so incapable of looking inward and seeing who I truly am, instead I see every flaw and everything I hate about myself.
I do need more reassurance than I let on to everyone. I create for everyone else, I make them feel good about themselves all the time, which will never leave me, I do love making sure the people around me are happy, but I try so hard to not receive it back. I feel so unworthy. But I do need that reassurance, I do need others to sometimes say that my f/os do *love* me, that they don't feel indifferent toward me. I do need to also find it within myself to supply that sort of self care. But, I think starting with reassurance will help me. I just need to ask. Which, in my very mentally ill mind, is the most impossible task. But I will do that today, I will ask. And hopefully, it won't be the worst thing in the world.
well, this felt good to write down. A bit uncomfortable, because well-- I'm not used to sharing my feelings so much. But it's better than continuing to be repressed.
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possiamo-andare · 3 years
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Just You (3)
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JJ x Reader x Rafe (love triangle)
MASTERLIST
word count: 5k
a/n: I can't believe it's been eight months since I updated this fic. y'all are probably dead by now and this will prolly get no notes lmao but I finally wrote the next chapter and it's so good in my opinion so please don't be too mad. enjoy!
~
Y/N needed complete silence when she was reading. If she didn’t, it was almost impossible for her to even read one page. As a child, in a room full of other screaming children, Y/N found it almost impossible to read. Most of her teachers misread this difficulty with an inability to read, which was not the case. This miscommunication actually worked in Y/N’s favour because the extra attention resulted in a greater love for reading. Y/N soon found herself reading everyday and even found it hard to put down a book. When she couldn’t get a physical copy of a book, she then went online and delved into a world where people created their own worlds and fantasies for their readers. Reading had become one of Y/N’s favourite hobbies and she could do it for hours.
Unfortunately, tonight was different. At around 6pm, just as Y/N picked up a book to read, loud music began to play from a distance. At first, Y/N tried to ignore it but soon, like mentioned before, the music began to get louder, and Y/N could not focus on the words before her. The more she tried to focus, the more distracted she became by the music. Soon, she could focus on nothing but the blaring music coming from across the street. Finally, after ten minutes of pure agony, Y/N got up from her bed and stormed down the stairs of her home. Her face is red with anger, and she desperately wants to know who the hell thinks playing loud music on a Tuesday night is acceptable. Unfortunately, she knows the answer the second she enters her kitchen.
Her parents are laughing with each other as they make their favourite snack. Every night, her parents make their favourite foods together as a way to unwind and talk about their day. Sometimes they shared it with Y/N and her siblings but on nights where her siblings were out with their friends and Y/N was the only one home, they usually just spent time with each other. Y/N hesitated for a moment and smiled to herself, thinking about how sweet her parents truly are. She wonders if the person she marries will have this type of relationship with her. She wonders, years from now, how she will look back on her time in OBX. She hopes she looks back with fondness. The moment is ruined though because her mother quickly looks up from the stove, a toothy grin on her face.
“Hello darling.” Y/N’s mother chirps. She reads her daughter's distraught face and since she can hear the music too, she knows why her daughter is upset. Without even letting Y/N speak, she answers the question clearly in her daughter's mind. “Ward Cameron’s son, Rafe, is throwing a party across the street. You can go if you want.”
Y/N snorts. “That boy has been rudely staring at me since we got here, and you think I should go to his house?”
This time, Y/N’s father turns around from the cabinet. “I hear JJ’s gonna be there.” There’s a small smirk on his face and it instantly grabs Y/N’s attention.
She tried to brush it off. “Well, I don’t really like loud music.”
Y/N’s mother scoffs. “Yes, you do.”
Y/N nods, tucking her hair behind her ears. She knows that if there’s even a hint of JJ being at the party, she wants to go. “You’re right, I do.”
Y/N had not been to a party in years. The last time she had it was in her first year of high school. She had just moved to that new school only weeks before and had made only a couple of friends. The friends she did make were nice and invited her to a party. The party was okay, and she enjoyed herself, but she was very awkward because she barely knew anyone. She promised that from now on, she would only go to parties where she knew more than one person. Now, she found herself breaking that rule just to see JJ.
Since Y/N was in her pajamas, she ran back up to her room to change. She didn’t want to waste too much time picking out clothes to wear so she quickly looked through her closet and found a white sundress with small blue flowers decorating the material. She had never worn this dress and, when she first bought it, was unsure if she liked it because it was shorter than what she was used to but now, she was glad she did.
She lay her sundress on her bed for a moment and turned to her mirror, where she kept a cabinet full of makeup. Before she even put on any makeup, she looked back up in the mirror for the second time. As she finally had a chance to breathe, she realized her breath was unsteady and her hands were shaking. It was hard for Y/N to put herself out there. Most times, she was afraid of the rejection, or even at the fact that the friends she did have would be gone. But she remembered her parents' words. She was to stay in OBX for the rest of the year. She would make friends here. She would have a life here. With a deep breath, Y/N began to get ready for the night.
~
Y/N keeps fidgeting with her hair. She knows the more she fidgets, the more upset she’ll be with how she looks but she seriously can’t help it. She only does this when she’s extremely nervous and she knows why. She’s two feet away from Rafe’s front door and the music has somehow gotten louder. It’s almost as if he’s continuously trying to play the music louder to get her attention. Of course, she knows that to not be true, but still, Y/N had realized that in the last twenty minutes since she had decided to get ready for the party and walked across the street, the music had indeed gotten louder. She rolled her eyes as she approached the door, the loud music getting annoying. At this rate, Rafe Cameron would be deaf by the time he was 30. Y/N pretended not to care if he went deaf at all, but a tiny voice inside her head told her that she had to care for him because no one else would.
With a deep breath, she knocks on the door. She doesn’t think anyone would hear it because of how loud the music is but it’s worth a try. She was raised to have manners and would not just enter someone’s house before knocking.
To her surprise, only a few moments later, the doorknob twisted quickly and someone on the other end of the door opened it. It was as if someone had been patiently waiting by the door all night, opening it in hopes that she would come. Of course, she knew this to not be true because the person who greeted her was none other than Rafe Cameron. And he found her annoying.
Y/N couldn’t help but admit how delicious he looked. He wasn’t dressed in his usual preppy attire, no. He wore these ripped, distressed black jeans and a fitted white shirt with a baseball cap to match. It wasn’t necessarily his style that had him looking so delightful but his face. He seemed very relaxed. In fact, this was the most relaxed she’d ever seen him. His usual straight posture was now more curled and casual. His face, which had always been pale and gray, was now filled with colour. He wore a cute blush across his cheeks and nose, and on top of the blush was a patch of light brown freckles here and there. Y/N figured he must’ve been in the sun all day. That and he was also high out of his mind.
“Y/N…” He trailed, his eyes glancing at her dress momentarily before returning to her face. Y/N feels a little self conscious under his gaze. She wasn’t exactly confident in her outfit tonight and he seemed, for the first time in forever, more confident than her. “You, um, you’re - you’re very…”
She involuntarily snickers, not realizing she’s doing it until Rafe hears it. His face changes into a dark frown and she has a deep need to apologize. He was probably just trying to be polite, and Y/N must’ve caught him just as his high was reaching its climax. “I’m what exactly?”
Rafe rolls his eyes, knowing that she’s teasing him. “You’re not invited.”
Well, she can’t say she exactly feels welcome right now, standing at the threshold of his door. He still hasn’t even let her in.
Y/N scoffs, her feelings only hurt a little. Although he didn’t look preppy, he looked just as douchy. “Well, your music’s so loud it could wake the dead. Maybe if you didn’t want uninvited people to come, don’t make it so obvious that you’re having a party.”
Rafe scoffs this time. “Aw, I’m sorry. Did I interrupt your bedtime?” He takes a swig of his beer bottle and Y/N almost forgets that he’s obviously been drinking. “Were you having a little read before you went to bed? Lemme guess; you were re-reading the Vagina Diaries for the tenth time?”
Y/N’s chest twinges with pain just a little, knowing that the book was on her bookshelf with a worn-out spine. He seemed to know her very well, but it only angered her because he got the answer right. “It’s actually Vagina Monologues, but nice try. I guess for someone who hasn’t opened a book in their life, the Vagina Monologues would be interesting.”
Rafe chuckles and she has a small urge to kiss the corners of his smile. Thankfully, once she swallows harshly, the urge disappears. “Just come in and don’t put your hippie feet anywhere near my furniture.” He finally steps aside, and Y/N takes that as the kindest invitation she’s gonna get from him.
“You mean, your parents' furniture.” She puts one foot in front of the other and tries to remember how to walk. Although it may not seem like it, she’s nervous. She’s not too good with crowds. As she passes Rafe, she can smell his cologne and she feel as though she might faint. For such an annoying boy, he really was intoxicating.
Rafe is not given enough time to throw a snide remark back in her face because someone has entered Y/N and Rafe’s little bubble. It’s another very handsome boy but this time, he’s sweet. He’s wearing preppy clothes (cargo shorts and a pink polo shirt - big shocker there) but he’s not preppy at all when he introduces himself.
“Hey! I’m Kelso; nice to meet ya!” He gives Y/N a half hug because his other hand is holding a beer, but she still gets the sentiment that he’s friendly. His hand respectfully lays on Y/N’s shoulder and Y/N actually hugs him back even though that’s not her thing with strangers.
“I’m Y/N, and it’s nice to meet you too!”
She watches as his brows go from a relaxed arch to a surprised arch instantly. It seems that whatever she has said has caught him by surprise. “Oh? You’re Y/N?” Kelso looks to Rafe for a moment, his eyes narrowing in amusement. Rafe tries to indirectly tell him to stop by flipping him off, but it only encourages Kelso. “I guess we have you to thank for this incredible party then!”
Y/N frowns, turning around to look at Rafe. They’re still in the entryway of his house and she hasn’t so much as taken in her surroundings, but this seems too important to ignore. What does Kelso mean? Did Rafe throw this party in hopes that she’d come? There was no way. Doesn’t Rafe find her completely annoying and obnoxious? If so, why would Kelso say such a thing?
“He’s joking right?” Y/N tries to confirm from Rafe but by his meek smile and his cheeks that have only gotten redder since she entered his home, she knows there’s some truth in what Kelso is saying.
Rafe shrugs, trying to come up with a lie. He had confided in Kelso as a way to relieve the stress that liking Y/N has caused but instead, Kelso just had to mess it up. “Well, not exactly.” His mouth is forming a lie before his brain can even properly think of one. “I mentioned to Kelso that you’ve probably never been to a party in OBX, so he must’ve thought I threw it for you.”
Y/N nods, confused as to why she feels a little sad. For some reason, a little part of her hoped that Rafe had thrown a party for her to notice him but alas, it had all been a misunderstanding. “Oh, well, okay.”
Except it wasn’t a misunderstanding at all. Rafe had told Kelso that the only reason he was throwing this party was for Y/N to notice him in a new light. He knew she thought he was just another annoying preppy Kook and he wanted to change that. He thought maybe, just maybe, if she had fun tonight with him, she’d finally start to see him as he truly was, a loveable dork. Unfortunately, that seems to be ruined now.
Before any more words can be exchanged, someone yells for Y/N. She instantly looks to the crowd of people in Rafe's backyard and sees JJ and Pope. The door to his backyard is open so the yelling is clear and not muddled by a barrier. They seemed to have been yelling for a while because they looked exasperated. Y/N watches as JJ stands from his lawn chair and motions for her to come sit beside them. She smiles for one of the first times tonight and nods, the pressure on her chest lifting when she sees her two friends. She wanted to take to Rafe later and get the full story because she had a feeling, he wasn’t telling her the complete truth, but she wanted to greet her friends first. She’d get to Rafe later. For now, she wanted to relax.
When Y/N departed from Rafe and Kelso, awkwardly waving goodbye before maneuvering to the back of Rafe’s house, Kelso spoke first.
“Dude, why didn’t you tell me she didn’t know this party was for her?”
Rafe glared at his friend. “You really think I’d tell her that. Now she probably thinks I’m even more creepy than before.”
Kelso rolls his eyes at how dramatic his friend was. “You didn’t see her reaction, bro. I don’t know if she even knows it herself, but she definitely likes you.”
Rafe rolls his eyes. He doesn’t allow for his hope to rise because he knows it’s not true. He can’t let himself have any more hope that the new girl in OBX would want to have anything to do with him. She can’t like him because no girl like her ever has. So, instead, he steals glances at her for the rest of the night and hopes to God he can get high enough to forget about the beautiful girl across the street.
~
Y/N tried to enjoy herself, she really did. And to JJ’s credit, he tried to help her relax and have some fun. She drank the beer that was offered to her, danced with JJ and Pope, and even took two puffs of JJ’s joint. But, although she felt thoroughly buzzed, Rafe never left her mind. She tried to throw a few sneaky glances his way the entire night, but she couldn’t find him. She even left her spot beside JJ and pretended to get a refill on his nasty beer just to see if she could spot Rafe. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be seen. At first, she thought it was just because she wasn’t looking hard enough but soon, after three whole hours of not seeing Rafe even once, she realized he was avoiding her. And if he was avoiding her, it meant that he was embarrassed from their conversation at the beginning of the night. Which meant that he lied, and he had in fact thrown this party just for her.
This revelation crept into her mind slowly throughout the night but when it finally sunk in, she was speechless. She didn’t know how to react. Sure, there was a slim chance that he had been telling the truth but the less she saw of Rafe at his own party, the more she realized that he had lied to her.
JJ had noticed how off Y/N seemed. When they had seen each other earlier in the day for her surfing lessons, he had made a fool out of himself. They had been practising for a few hours before they both called it quits, deciding to pick it back up the next day. Before departing, JJ offered her ice cream for a hard day's work, and she gladly accepted. They both ordered the same flavour (mint chocolate chip - he swore they were soulmates because of this) and ate it as they talked. When they were both finally finished, Y/N went to hug him goodbye, but he instead extended his hand awkwardly for her to shake. She seemed slightly embarrassed, but he was even more so. He had wanted to hug her but didn’t want to without her permission, so he thought a handshake was the safe bet. Unfortunately, he thought wrong and now, that awkward interaction was burned into the back of his mind. He was worried that’s why Y/N seemed so detached, barely speaking. When she had gone to refill her cup, JJ looked to Pope for advice. He had never been so needy for a girl’s approval before and since Pope seemed to want everyone to like him, JJ thought he’d give the best advice.
“So,” JJ sighs and he finishes telling the story of their awkward interaction. “Do you think that’s why she’s been so quiet?”
Pope snorted. “JJ, I think it’s just you. I doubt she even remembers it.”
Although his friend tried his best to reassure JJ, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was burdening Y/N’s mind. But, before JJ could continue his conversation with Pope, Y/N reappeared with a glass full of beer and a somber face. The topic was not brought up again.
JJ had been right though. Something was burdening Y/N’s mind. It’s not everyday that a girl finds out a boy who she thought saw her as a bothersome girl actually saw her as much more. It’s a difficult experience to relate to and not a problem Y/N thought she would have. Apparently, Rafe was better at hiding his true feelings than she thought. She had always assumed that when she’d catch him peeking through his window, watching her ride her bike with her brothers or bask in the sun as she read another book, he was judging her. She assumed he was making fun of her and her hippie family. And when they had first met in the main office of her school, it only solidified in her mind that he saw her as a joke. But instead, he might’ve actually liked her. You clearly only watch people in that way if you hate them or like them and since it clearly wasn’t hate…
No. She wouldn’t let her mind go there. Besides, even if he liked her, who was to say if she even liked him? He had been nothing but rude to her, even when he had technically invited her to this party. He called her a hippie (not offensive by itself but when Rafe said it, it might as well have been), watched her from his window with a scowl, and was a complete snob. If Y/N knew what was good for her, she’d stay far, far away from Rafe and anyone he associated with. But Y/N was a dumb teenage girl and curiosity got the better of her. She needed to find another good excuse to go inside and search one last time for Rafe.
The excuse presented itself when JJ made a small remark of how thirsty he was. Y/N jumped at the opportunity to refill his drink, even though he offered to go himself. But she insisted, taking his cup from his hands before he could argue any longer. As she made her way back inside, her eyes looking for the handsome brunette, Pope leaned closer to JJ.
“See? And you thought she didn’t like you?”
JJ nodded, feeling better about the whole ordeal. Unfortunately, if he knew why she truly had wanted to venture inside, it’s doubtful he would have felt better. He probably would’ve felt worse. But he didn’t know, and he wouldn’t know for a while longer.
Y/N first made her way to Rafe’s huge kitchen where all the kegs were lined up. Half of them were already empty but the night was coming to a close and soon, half the party would leave and only Rafe’s closest friends would stick around until 5am. It was midnight now and although she didn’t have a curfew, she wanted to be home by at least 1am. So, as she filled only JJ’s cup, she decided against filling her own. She didn’t want to be too tipsy in case she ran into Rafe. Although, by this time, she thought it was very unlikely that she’d ever see him.
Just as that thought crossed her mind though, another person entered the kitchen. Y/N recognized him immediately. It was Topper. They had never interacted much, just a brief wave whenever she’d pass his house when she rode her bike. If he was outside, which he had only been once or twice, he’d wave, and she’d wave back. Other than that, they never spoke. Until now.
He stood beside her, filling two glasses with beer. His blond hair was wet and sticking to his forehead, but his hands were so full, and he was so drunk he didn’t seem to notice. Y/N had seen Rafe’s pool, but she did not find herself on that side of his house for many reasons (the pool was on the other side of the backyard, she didn’t bring a bathing suit, and her mind was busy with more important matters). Topper seemed to be struggling with refilling two cups, his hands shaking just a little. Y/N instantly registered that he needed help and decided that busying herself with assisting Topper would help take her mind off Rafe.
“Here,” Y/N offered, setting JJ’s cup down on the counter. “Let me help.” She takes one of the glasses from Topper and begins to fill it up, all the while keeping an eye on Topper to make sure he doesn’t spill the other cup.
“Thanks.” He mumbles, swaying back and forth to the music that is blaring from somewhere inside Rafe’s house. Y/N can’t help but smile a little at this giddy boy who would otherwise be embarrassed for acting so weird if he was not so drunk.
Unfortunately, not even helping Topper can keep Y/N’s mind off Rafe. She wonders that since Rafe must’ve told Kelso something about her, Rafe could’ve confided in Topper too. From the gossip that JJ had told her, Topper used to date Sarah but even after they broke up, Rafe and Topper remained friends. So maybe, just maybe, Rafe had said something to Topper about her? She figured even if she asked Topper, it would never get back to Rafe. Topper was clearly drunk and would not remember the conversation he had with Y/N. No harm, no foul. Right?
Unfortunately, that idea was quickly squashed because just as she began to open her mouth, someone else entered the room. It was Rafe.
Rafe had skillfully avoided Y/N all night, while still stealing glancing her way. He never noticed that she too had been looking for him. He was so nervous that he’d eventually bump into her that he would make Kelso check every room before he entered it. Unfortunately, Kelso was drunk by midnight and could no longer help Rafe. Rafe tried to let it go, figuring you were probably gone by now. So, he asked Topper to refill his cup as he helped Kelso into his mom’s car. But, when Topper still hadn’t returned by the time Rafe entered his home, he thought there was no harm in checking up on him. Apparently, there was a lot of harm in that.
And now, there they stood, facing each other for the first time since the beginning of the night. Rafe wanted to turn back around and leave but he had always made a fool of himself, and he knew that if he awkwardly left without acknowledging Y/N, she’d surely think even lower of him. So, as soon as their eyes made contact, Rafe awkwardly raised his hand and waved. He could feel the awkward smile painted across his face and Y/N seemed to mimic him.
“Hey.” He squeaked out, taking both cups from Topper before speaking to his friend. He figured the less he looked at Y/N, the less awkward he would feel. He was wrong. “Top, why don’t you lie down on the couch. I’ll bring the beers soon.”
Topper only nodded, slowly making his way out of the kitchen, leaving his friend and Y/N in there alone. Alone for the first time since the beginning of the night. Both their pairs of eyes were trained on their drinks; Y/N was clutching onto JJ’s and Rafe held one for him and one for Topper. No one spoke for a while. Y/N had waited all night to get Rafe alone, just so they could talk and now she didn’t know what to say. She awkwardly shifted the weight in her feet, unable to think of the first thing she wanted to say. They were only five feet apart, but they might as well have been worlds away.
Rafe was in agony and decided to get it over with. He spoke first. “So, are you enjoying the party?” He spoke so formally, as if he was chatting with his grandmother, but he was too uncomfortable to speak any other way.
Y/N nodded, relieved he had taken the first leap forward. “Um, yeah. Never knew that kids could throw parties like this.”
Rafe smiled for a moment, happy that she was so amazed at his dullest party of the year. His heart fluttered at the thought of Y/N dancing in that beautiful white dress with him. Holding onto him as they swayed to the music, pulling her close. Close enough to -
“So, Rafe, I wanted to talk about earlier.” Y/N began, playing with the skin around her nails. It was a nervous tick she had yet to get rid of.
Those eight words destroyed Rafe. At that moment, he knew she had not believed his original lie. He wasn’t too surprised though. He was a shitty liar and Y/N seemed to pick on everything he did. Although he would rather rip his fingernails off one by one than have this uncomfortable conversation with Y/N, he knew he’d have to give her the answers she was looking for. Even if that meant embarrassing himself.
Finally, he nodded. “Um, uh, okay. What’s up?”
Y/N began to speak but before she could get a coherent sentence out, someone else entered the kitchen, making a bunch of noise as he did. Their eyes met instantly and when she recognized who he was, her back straightened slightly as if she had been caught in a salacious act. It was JJ.
“Y/N, what's taking so long?” He stops just after he enters the kitchen and as soon as his eyes go to Rafe, his smile drops. He’s confused beyond belief. He doesn’t know why Y/N is speaking to Rafe. He didn’t even know they knew each other. “Uh, am I interrupting something?”
Y/N forces a smile, glancing at Rafe briefly before walking past him and towards JJ. She hands JJ his cup and he gladly takes it, a look of pure confusion written on his face. “No, Rafe was just asking me if I am enjoying my first party in Outer Banks.”
JJ's eyes shift to Rafe, whose face is pure white. “Really? How… kind?”
Y/N knows JJ is suspicious so to curve his focus back on her, she reaches up to cup one side of his face. JJ’s eyes instantly fall back onto her, a small smile back on his lips. “Walk me home, JJ. I’m getting tired.”
JJ nods sweetly, placing his hand over the one that’s cupping his cheek. “Sure. Go get your stuff and I’ll meet you at the front of the house.”
Y/N looks back to Rafe one more time, a small smile on her face. Rafe pushes his lips into a thin line, nodding goodbye to her. She does the same, leaving the kitchen as quietly as she entered. Y/N’s afraid to leave JJ and Rafe alone but she really has no reason to stay any longer. She hopes that she can get Rafe alone soon so they can have an actual conversation. Tonight, was kind of a disaster but being with JJ and having such a fun time with him made up for it. She knows JJ is the type of guy she should be with. He’s fun and carefree and they’re too much alike to not get along. Even though this is all true and she does have feelings for JJ, there is a part of her that yearns for Rafe. And that part scares her.
Once Y/N is gone, JJ’s smile drops, and he turns back to Rafe with a menacing glare. “Look, I don’t know what your game is here, but I really like Y/N. We both know you’re not her type. So do both of us a favour and leave her alone.”
And with that, JJ was gone too. Leaving Rafe alone.
Even with all these people in his house, Rafe never felt more alone.
~
taglist: @tovvaa @canyoubuymetoast @multisimpinghoe (sorry to these queens for waiting so long lmaooo)
152 notes · View notes
swcetnight · 3 years
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It’s Definitely You || kth (m.) 1
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synopsis:
Working as a barista in NYC has its perks, but when your ultimate dream of being on the Broadway stage tends to come crumbling down, the only thing that raises your spirits is the comfort of a complete stranger… who seems to have known you for far longer than you thought.
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masterlist here
→ pairing: taehyung x barista!reader (also musical theatre performer cause I had to)
→ genre: fluff, angst, future smut | strangers(ish) to lovers… i won’t give the truth away... gonna have to read and find out for yourself ;))
-> warnings: self doubt, adorable plant names... there's really not many warnings for this chapter!
→ word count: 7,973
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authors note:
alrighty everyone... here we go! (i’m so nervous) this is the first chapter of this series (which it took me 50 years to figure out whether I wanted this to be a series or a two shot... lets just say that it's gonna be a long one, so I think that a series is the best way to go)! this story is really near and dear to my heart, so 1. I really hope you enjoy it and 2. I hope all of you know how hard it was to write this into words... my goodness. now, make sure you look for clues throughout this series... there's a secret in here that won't be revealed for a while ;)) but if any of you have ideas, please be sure to send an ask while we wait to find out together! anyways, I hope you enjoy !!
authors thanks:
a HUGE thank you to @hantaev and @monvante for beta-reading and being so so supportive of me and this little (but not so little) story... y'all truly have no idea how helpful you've been and how thankful I am to be friends with both of you! forreal, y'all are the greatest and I'm sending you all my love!!
also, if you are enjoying this story, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask (on or off anon) and let me know your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc!! i would love to hear from all of you 🤍
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If time-travel existed, you would be on the first time machine and head back to 2 years ago. A time when you had a free schedule and were able to go out on Friday nights. A time when you felt confident in yourself and were raring to pursue theatre. A time when you didn't have this job (cause apparently, theatre is impossible to get into) that forces you awake at 4 in the morning for the opening shift.
You can't say you don't love your Barista job because you do. Still, when your alarm wakes you from the beautiful dream of performing on the big stage, you have to use everything within yourself to crawl out of your sheet cocoon… and that is unacceptable.
What's even more unacceptable is the fact that your co-worker, Jimin, hasn't arrived at the Academia Cafe yet. You have about 30 minutes to prepare for the morning peak; brew coffees, set up the bakery items, clear the boards "coffee of the day," etc. The problem is, it takes up all of the 30 allotted minutes— and you can't start prepping early because Jimin has the keys to the cafe.
You’ve worked at the Academia Cafe for about a year now, taking a break from your endless theatre audition schedule— since that was getting you absolutely nowhere. No matter how badly you want it, nothing seems to work. No matter how many times you practice, it never seems to be good enough. Let’s just say, you took this job at the cafe because you were over the repetitive let downs.
… But here you are, with a “Jimin being late” let down.
[To: Jimin ☕️] hey, you almost here? times ticking, keys!
You stuff your phone into your winter coat pocket, the brown material catching snowflakes as they fall gently from the cloudy sky. You love this weather; it's always been your favorite. When you were little, you used to pretend to be a dragon; running all over your front yard and releasing heavy breaths that chilled in the air and spread like smoke. You don't enjoy the cold, but the entire feel of winter has you cozying up in a blanket with hot cocoa and a good book… nothing could beat that.
A buzz in your pocket catches your attention.
[From: Jimin ☕️] Hey! Look up.
Your eyes immediately lift to see Jimin smiling a few feet away, shuffling through the snow as he drags the keys out of his pocket. He's sporting a heavy blue coat that reaches down to his knees — making his short stature appear even smaller — topped with a matching blue beanie. Despite his tardiness today, you’ve always been fond of Jimin. He's like a ray of sunshine, beaming through the skyscrapers of the city and making everyone around him happy just by flashing a single smile. Honestly, you wish you could sneak some of that happiness from him and lock it somewhere safe... so you can save it for a time when you need it most.
"Your timing is impeccable." He laughs, gently placing the keys into the front door lock. "You texted me right as I was rounding the corner."
"I'm telling you, Jimin; we're always on the same wavelength."  Smirking, you make your way through the doors of the cafe, greeted by the warmth that surrounds you like your sheet cocoon did this morning, but accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. "Except for the fact that you, my friend, are late, so now we only have twenty-eight minutes until opening."
Old, rustic book pages litter the cafe's dark walls, executing the dark academia theme flawlessly. You have to give the interior designers a hand, what with the black stools and high dark wood counters etched with different story pages. You wonder if anyone took the time to read the stories that covered the cafe; maybe the stories moved them in a personal way. Maybe there was a reason why they read them, a part of the butterfly effect of their life.
With a quick survey of the main room, you shuffle into the back to put your belongings away. "You would think it would be less busy on the streets because of the snow," Jimin calls, already working on the first batch of light roast coffee. "But unfortunately for me, that was not the case, and I nearly lost my life multiple times on the way here because of how slick it is."
A laugh emits from your lips, echoing in the backroom as you throw your apron over your head.
You begin with date labeling all of the pastry items, placing them accordingly onto the pastry cart; croissants, muffins, scones, etc. Then, you move onto organizing syrups and setting toppings along the bar where drinks are made. Bar is your personal favorite position-- since you're able to make the drinks… Plus, you're so busy that your shift goes by way faster. The sooner you're done, the sooner you get to go home and sleep.
“All set?” Jimin questions when you finish setting the steaming pitchers next to the espresso machine, tossing the rag he used to wipe down tables into the sanitizer bin. You give him a nod, taking a quick once over of the bar. “Alright,” he claps, “let's do this.”
This morning runs like every Friday morning, busy and fast. The sounds of coffee glasses clinking and the calling of customer names at the hand-off station echoes through the air.
Ahhhh, the scenery in coffee shops; the quiet hush over the room as soft jazz plays over the speakers. It’s soothing, all encompassing, and extremely helpful for motivation… You used to go to a local cafe for homework when you were still in school.
You take a breath, relaxing against the back counter as you overhear a conversation a group of regulars are having. It’s the usual small talk: the weather, families, sharing pictures of recent events. Coming up with questions of the day for customers becomes easier after knowing their stories, so you subconsciously listen in often.
Because of this, you almost don't notice the man waiting at the register, wholly delved into the neighboring conversation— only looking over when you hear your name called.
"Y/n?"
You turn your head, catching eyes with the stranger behind the counter who holds his credit card ready. The first thing you notice is that he's young, probably around your age, wearing a brown turtleneck and white slacks. His eyes are dark, standing above his perfectly sculpted nose and lips. His hair is dark as well, forehead drowning within the wavy bangs that fall over his eyebrows as he takes you in. To be completely honest, he's probably the most handsome man you've had the pleasure of seeing… is that weird? You don’t know him… maybe that is weird.
The second thing you notice is that he looks completely anxious, hands grasping the edge of the counter like there's a thousand-foot drop below him. Why is he looking straight at you while doing that? Maybe you should call Jimin to take ove-
“Is it really you?” He questions, taking you aback.
"I-" You clear your throat, walking forward to meet him at the register, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
With an intake of breath, he releases the counter as he studies you. Was he… crying? You swear his eyes were not this bloodshot three seconds ago.
"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"
Attractive? Yes. Psycho?...possibly.
You shake your head slightly, “I… I’m sorry. I don't-"
Wait… is he a regular? You swear you haven't seen him come into the cafe before. Shoot.. What if he is? The number one thing your boss has made perfectly clear: remember the regulars, so they come back and feel at home; recognized. Customer connection was the most important thing at the Academia Cafe… He's probably a regular.
“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”
He's staring at you. Full-on staring, jaw slacked. Shifting uncomfortably in your keds, you eye beside you to see Jimin working away at a macchiato. You consider changing places, nearly walking over to him before the customer speaks again.
"It's- It's Taehyung."
You force a smile, nodding while he continues to stare at you. He seems a bit more hesitant, his eyes looking in different directions but ultimately falling back onto your own. Even if he tried, he couldn't hide the rosy color that spreads onto his cheeks. What was this guy's problem?
"Taehyung! Awesome, well, what can I get for you today?" You chirp, attempting to brighten up your increasing discomfort. He might have mistook you for someone else, you decide, jumping back into your customer service personality: kind and quick to the point.
Taehyung doesn't move, training his eyes on you. You've never had a man's undivided attention before, since boyfriends were never an option. When you were a teenager, you stayed home most of the time in your hometown, and the boys there were all just in it to take your pants off. You avoided them and never really caught their attention, so you can't help the uncomfortable blush that grows on your cheeks. It’s short lived though, your nerves dissolving as soon as you notice a single tear fall onto the front of his shirt.
Oh. Okay, he’s definitely crying.
"Sir..." You begin, leaning in closer to avoid drawing attention. "Is everything alright?"
"I…" The shake in his voice is evident as he puts his credit card back into his wallet, still refusing to break eye contact. “Excuse me." Without another word, he turns on his heel and rushes towards the exit, clocking a customer in the shoulder in his rush. He apologizes quickly, bowing to them before glancing behind to make eye contact with you once more.
You wish you could read minds, wondering what the hell is going through his brain… but you notice the tiniest gleam of a hopeful smile that hides on his lips.
And then he’s gone.
“I swear it was the strangest thing, Jimin.” You speak nervously, tugging at the strings of your apron and lifting it over your head. It had been busy all day, despite a quick thirty minute break when everyone had left and the cafe was suddenly a deserted island. You appreciated the busyness, it made your shift go by faster. Right now, all you wanted to do was go home, eat a fat bowl of icecream and distract yourself from the events of today with a movie. Thank God your shift was over.
“Maybe he thought you were someone else?” Jimin insists, taking a bite into the extra Blueberry Muffin you’d accidentally heated when you were distracted by the events that occurred earlier.
“Yeah? Well, I must be the spitting image because he was totally freaked out.”
“You never know, y/n. Or, maybe he just used that as an excuse to talk to you.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, throwing your rolled up apron at him harshly before you grab your belongings.
“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious. This guy looked like he had seen his ex… He was crying. I don’t think he was into me.”
“Maybe his eyes were watering from the cold wind?” He offers.
“Enough to cry actual tears?” You scoffed, “C’mon Jimin.”
He shrugs defensively, picking up his things so the two of you can head out a few minutes earlier than usual. Whenever the baristas have a chance to leave early, they take it. “If he comes back, then ask him: hey, dude, what’s your deal?”Jimin works his way through the cafe, throwing an excess chair upside down onto the table with the rest of them.
You hold your hand above your heart, which is still beating at a faster pace due to this discussion. Can hearts even beat this fast? This can’t be healthy… “Oh wow, you have such a way with words. That definitely won’t make him feel uncomfortable!”
Yes. Sarcasm coping mechanism.
“Y/n.” Jimin meets you at the door and puts his hands on your shoulders, making extra sure he has your attention. “Go home. Don’t think too much into it… He was probably high or something and mistook you for his ex that dumped him and now he’s moping through the city and getting into all sorts of trouble and he’ll forget that he even came here tomorrow morning. Okay?”
You nod slowly, exiting the cafe with Jimin on your tail. "Don't worry, y/n." Jimin adds, "He probably won't even come back." He locks the door and gives you one last thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction, calling out at the last second. “See you tomorrow!”
The forced smile on your face appears again (looks like this was a regular occurrence today), waving him goodbye.
Yeah… tomorrow.
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Jimin was right. The handsome crying stranger was probably never coming back.
It has been a few weeks since you met him for the first time. Now, it feels like a distant memory. He hadn’t shown up to the cafe the day after the encounter, or the day after that, or the day after that, and eventually you’d come to the conclusion that he was probably never going to show his face again out of pure embarrassment. You can’t say you blame him. You’d be embarrassed too if you stared at and cried over a random stranger.
Still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment... You'd kind of hoped you could figure out what his problem was, maybe ease his mind a little if you really did look like a past lover. You would make sure he knew that it wasn't you. What if he was avoiding the cafe because he literally thought you were someone else? Great… now you just feel bad.
"Y/n? Are you listening?" Jimin beckons over the phone.
"Huh? What?" You bounce back to reality, the soft comforter of your bed lying beneath you as you stare out the window. Thanks to your wonderful apartment search, you have a beautiful view of the city. Jimin had helped you find a place when you first moved here. The two of you had met when you visited to check out the first apartment options; he even took you out for a drink afterward to celebrate the first days' completion. Jimin had immediately clicked with you, as he does with everyone-- he was the kind of person to make friends insanely quickly. He must've been super popular in high school... unlike you.
"Y/n Y/l/n. I am giving you a chance to meet more people, and you're not even listening to me!" He cries, a light smack coming from the other end (probably from him slamming his hand on the table).
"Okay, okay-- I'm sorry. I'm listening now; what's up?"
With a deep sigh, he speaks again. "Party. My house. Tonight. It's not gonna be wild, don't worry... it's just a get-together with some of my friends, and you can have a few drinks if you would like to."
Gnawing at your bottom lip, you look over towards the clock on your nightstand. 5:00. "I don't know..." You begin, the bed shifting as you raise into a seated position. "I have to work tomorrow morn-"
"Already got your shift covered." He deadpans.
"What??"
"I already got your shift covered, so you have no excuse."
This sly guy.
"Who covered it?" You question, setting the audio to speaker-phone as you rummage through old text messages you haven't gone through (to prep for your "thank you for covering my shift" text message).
“Jin.” Noted.
“So…” Jimin continues, “are you coming?”
You can't even remember the last time you met new people, let alone gone to a party. Parties weren't necessarily your thing, especially with your busy schedule of workdays and auditions-- you just never had the time. You should be excited, right?
Well, you aren't.
"Jimin, I don't know… I'm not really a huge fan of parties." You mumble over the phone, picking at the lone string that popped out of its stitch on your comforter.
"Y/n, it's a small get-together, and it's not gonna be that kind of party. Believe me; it'll be really chill. It's just me, you, a few other coworkers, and some friends from my journalism class."
You chew at your bottom lip, looking over at your closet to see a single green cocktail dress that you hadn't worn in years. The memory of the dress was a good one… you had just finished up curtain call for The Addams Family and wore that dress to the after-party. It's a short sleeve, layered green dress that flows just over your knees, the same color sash tying the waist in a floppy bow. You blush at the memory of winning best dressed.
A pause, “Okay.” You conclude. “I’ll go.”
Jimin was honest about how chill it would be; soft music plays in the background as the group sits around the table playing cards. A basketball game is playing on the TV, desperate for attention as a player scores a 3-pointer, but no one is watching. Shuffling of cards is the only sound heard in the room as the game continues.
The atmosphere is calm… quiet…
“BULLSHIT.”
The immediate crumble of everyone’s mood causes the loud “HELL YEAH” that makes you jump in your seat.
"And that is how it's done, Ladies and Gentlemen." Jungkook (your fellow coworker) claps, his smile brighter than the sunset that seeps through the curtains on the opposite side of the room.
"And that's on cheating!" Jimin picks up the cards in the center of the table, gathering them clumsily back into a pile.
"It's called having skill," Jungkook replies, holding his hands up as he smirks at his opponents.
"No, it's called luck." Yoongi finalizes as he puts his hand of cards down on the table with a roll of his eyes. You haven’t met Yoongi before until tonight. He’s one of Jimin's friends from Journalism Class.
When you arrived, you decided to sit out of this round and learn to play before joining the game-- knowing you; you would've been crushed within the first minutes of playing. Card games weren’t exactly a skill of yours— board games on the other hand were where it’s at! That, and charades. For the sake of the party, a card game didn’t sound too bad this time around— so you poke at Jimin to give you the hand as he serves cards for everyone else.
“Wait, wait, wait—“ Jimin pauses, his hand disappearing beneath the table to grab his phone. “Hello?”
“I’m not Irish, so does luck really count?” Jungkook questions in a hushed whisper, nudging Yoongi in the side.
“Oh hey...yeah... it’s apartment 205.” Jimin continues.
“You’re so funny, Jk. Maybe you’ll actually become successful if you choose stand-up comedy rather than becoming a musician.” Yoongi replies nonchalantly, his cat-like eyes staring at the abandoned pile of cards before he seems to come to the decision to shuffle them himself. He gives you a small smile when you hold your hand out to signal that you’re joining in this round.
“Mhm, you can just walk on in! Doors unlocked… okay.. alright, see ya in a minute.” When Jimin's phone is down, Yoongi passes a hand of cards to him.
“Think you can beat me, Y/n?” Jungkook asks,”Since apparently these four can’t?” He motions to Yoongi and Jimin, glancing at the other two players of the game: Hoseok (Jimins other classmate) and his girlfriend, Faith.
“I think I can.” You say, smirking at the determined expression on Jungkooks face. Even if you weren’t very fond of card games, there was one thing you were even less fond of: losing.
“Mmm, might want to rethink that, but okay.” Jungkook replies. The two of you are death staring when the sound of the front door creaking open catches the attention of everyone else at the table. Jimin shoots out of his chair.
“Taehyung!”
You freeze.
"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"
Attractive? Yes. Psycho?... possibly.
“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”
"It's- It's-."
“Taehyung, you just missed me creaming everyone in bullshit.” Jungkook boasts. Your eyes are glued to the side of Jungkook's head, not daring to make eye contact with the source of your nerves the past few weeks.
“Oh did I?” The familiar, deep voice utters.
Okay.. you can’t help but look…
Holy—it’s actually him.
Immediate regret sinks into your soul when you see him. God, he’s even handsomer than you remember. A white woolen sweater hangs over a pair of his black pants, matched with white sneakers and accenting the head of dark wavy hair you’d been thinking about since you last saw him.
“Yep!” Jungkook continues. “And now Y/n’s about to get shitfaced too.”
The moment his eyes swiftly glance your way is the moment you crumble and turn your head back to Jungkook. You had hoped to make a sly remark, something along the lines of “in your dreams,” but you’re caught breathless from the tension in the room. The tension only the two of you are aware of. He must be tense too, right?
“I wouldn’t underestimate her.” You hear out of Taehyung's mouth, stealing a look at his face once more. He’s smirking at Jungkook, hanging his coat on the hook beside yours, oblivious of the way you’re basically dissecting his every move.
“Have you met Y/n?” Jimin questions, provoking Taehyung's eyes to fall back onto yours. This time, you don’t look away.
He doesn’t answer right away, making you more nervous than you should be— the silence deafening as you make to explain, “We-“
“No.” He states plainly, cutting you off. An innocent smile plays on his lips as he looks at Jimin and places his messenger bag beside the door.
No? Uhhh, was he not the guy who pretended to know who you were and cried in front of you without even explaining why? Nope, it’s definitely him.
“I’m Taehyung.” He calls in your direction, offering you a boxy smile and a small nod, “Don’t let Jungkook fool you. A girl pinched him when we were in grade school. He barely lasted five seconds before running away screaming.” Taehyung moved to the table, sitting beside the man he just brutally embarrassed.
“That girl was terrifying. She was way taller than all the other sixth graders. It was an unfair situation.” Jungkook protested, sinking in his chair as he shuffled the cards he held in his hand.
You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at Taehyung. Was he embarrassed of his outburst at the cafe that he just hopes you forgot about him? You guess you didn’t exactly meet each other, other than a few words exchanged before he disappeared out the door. He probably doesn’t want his friends to know about what happened. Or did he not recognize you and completely forgot about the whole ordeal?
Okay, it’s fine… totally fine.
“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” you laugh, “no more coming in late, Jk. Or I’ll have to pinch you.”
Jungkook merely rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. You see the crinkle in Taehyung's eyes as he laughs, the boxy smile taking root on his face again… a smile you’ve begun to enjoy the look of.
Hey. Snap out of it. This guy is so confusing. That’s a red card.
You straighten up in your seat, catching Jimin's attention when you move towards the kitchen, motioning with your hand to signal that you’re getting another drink. You have a feeling you’re gonna need some more alcohol to get through the evening.
Jimins place is clean, every knick knack placed neatly where it belongs; accompanied by the smell of potted plants that he keeps by his windows. Little name tags are attached to the plant stems: Flo, Sprout, Bob. He names his plants. Sweet.
He, like you, has a great view of the city too, a mid-size window perched above his breakfast nook where a small potted plant (quotabley named “bean”) grows. The city is bustling below as you reach for a beer, shrugging off the fact that you hate beer, but at least the taste will distract you from Tae-
“Hey.” You hear a soft voice call from the kitchen archway. When you turn you nearly drop the bottle out of your hand. Taehyung gives you a soft smile.
“Hey! Uh.. did you want a beer, or are you a wine guy?” You question, cringing at how much higher your voice sounds at his close proximity.
“I— Sorry, neither.” He starts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he makes his way around the island. “I uh- I just wanted to talk to you about something.”
You nod slightly, “Yeah of course… what’s up?”
“Um,” he’s nervous, you notice. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing at the cafe a few weeks ago.. I was— not in the right state of mind.” He meets your eyes hesitantly, “you just look like someone I know from a long time ago and it kind of.. took me by surprise, I guess.”
Jimin was right. You offer him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief, “You know what, I truly thought that was the reason… It’s totally fine. I’m not who you think I am, by the way.”
A flicker of something crosses his features at your comment, something you can’t quite pick up, but he changes it quickly to a smirk. “Obviously.” He laughs, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.. I’m not weird, I swear.”
“Mmm, that’s what they all say.” You tease.
He laughs, a soft sound that you want to hear over and over again. “You’ve got me there.” He takes a pause, placing his hands on the island countertop. “Let’s start over? If that’s okay? I didn’t want to mention it when I came in because I wanted us to have a fresh start.”
You push down the questioning thought of who this woman he mistook you for was, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “That’s totally okay.. clean slate?”
“Clean slate.” He finalizes.
“Straightforward,” You add, “I like it.”
He gives you a warm smile, the same edge in the way he looks at you dances in his eyes before he breaks it off, sliding the bottle of beer out of your own hand. “Actually, I think I will have a beer. You don’t seem like a beer drinker, anyway.” He turns quickly, smirking at you before striding out of the room. “Thanks, Y/n!”
Protestations die on your lips as he disappears from the room, your beer along with him. How rude. You can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back to the cupboard, skipping the beer and pouring yourself a second glass of wine. You weren’t a beer drinker, after all.
Although you weren’t one for parties, you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were having a good time. No, a great time. All of you are seated in Jimins living room; a plate of chips sits on the coffee table, which was the hot spot of the night (considering there’s hardly any remaining). Others in the group still have a glass of alcohol in their hands, the tipsiness evident by the slurring of their words. You had stopped yourself after half of your second glass, playing it safe since you still have to walk home after the party. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway-- your family history being the root of this decision.
It isn’t the games that made the night this enjoyable, or the food, or the movie that is currently playing over Jimin's television (which, by the way, is Moulin Rouge, because half of the room enjoys musicals, and the other half enjoys regular movies. So, you decided to settle on a movie musical). None of that matters, except the fact that you’ve never felt this carefree in a long time.
For one night, you can put aside your cafe job, auditions, and never-ending to-do lists and just have fun. Real fun. Even in the audition rooms, it has never been fun for you. It’s been nerve-wracking to a fault and always ends with a “thank you for taking the time, but we’ve decided not to accept you this time around,” or a callback, which ultimately concludes with the same grueling fate.
But this is different.
This is a group of people who genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you… with no “not this time’s” or open-ended questions.
Especially with Taehyung. You’re surprised at how quickly the two of you seemed to hit it off, despite the awkward introduction. Now, it feels like he’s known you for years… in the best way. You’re comfortable talking to him, chatting together during the movie about the plot points or songs you find specifically endearing. You had initially planned to sit next to Jimin… but ended up next to Taehyung on the couch.
It just happened.
He enjoys musicals as well, you learn. Maybe not as much as you do, but at least he doesn’t despise them. He’s one of Jimin’s friends from their shared art class. He loves the color brown. His favorite food is watermelon. He does illustrations for Jimins journalism projects (which, in your opinion, are exceptional from the photos he showed you during the movie while the others were engulfed in the film). He wishes to pursue traveling journalism, where he draws what he sees rather than taking pictures. His whole aura is warm… like a heated blanket that envelopes you whole when you feel him shift beside you on the sofa. A small reminder that he’s still there.
Okay, you’re liking his presence way too much.
He finds romance movies corny but a guilty pleasure nonetheless. This, the reason why he agreed to watch Moulin Rouge despite the cheesiness in the beginning. In the end, it was anything but cheesy.
"Well, that was stupid." Jungkook scoffs, slamming the remote onto the neighboring loveseats' armrest. The once loud room filled with music is now quiet from the after-effects of the movie.
“I told you it was sad!” Jimin exclaims. The two of you had seen this movie before in theatres… and this was nothing compared to how the ending hit the first time. “Y/N was nearly choking. She was crying so hard when we saw it.”
An immediate blush rises onto your cheeks as you shake your head in defiance, trying to hide the tears that had been stinging your eyes for the last thirty minutes. “Who wouldn’t cry at that??”
“Taehyung probably didn’t. He never cries.” Hoseok deadpans. Ha. You can’t help but remember the tear that ran down his face in the cafe… He never cries?
With a quick look over your shoulder, you find that Taehyung is no longer seated on the couch. When did he get up? You attempt to shrug off your curiosity, pivoting back towards the chip table where only sad little crumbs remain. You were worrying way too much over a man you quite literally just met tonight… even if it felt like you’ve known him for much longer.
Taehyung eventually reappeared, stating that he had to use the bathroom— you ignored the fact that it took him a solid 30 minutes to get back to the party. It wasn’t your place to ask any questions, especially since he lifted a smile onto his face the second he reentered the room. See, y/n… nothing to worry about.
It wasn’t long before you insisted you head home, knowing that you’d curse yourself in the morning if you stayed out past the sunrise. If you did, you’d sleep through tomorrow, and that would be awful. You’ve done this a few times… and every time, you felt like you had wasted an entire year of your life.
You move to grab your purse and jacket, which are hanging comfortably on the hook beside the front door. With a small smile, you bid everyone goodnight— smiling as they resume a card game around the table at one o’clock in the morning. It’s nice to know that the group of you hit it off… now; you can look forward to plenty of get-togethers in the future.
Your mind is bustling with all kinds of ideas: picnics in central park, late-night broadway shows, hangouts at the caf-
“Y/n!” The soft calling of Taehyung's voice causes you to halt near the exit, turning on your heel to see him jogging towards you. He had haphazardly thrown his jacket over him since it’s still being tugged onto his body as he runs. His hair becomes even more chaotic in his haste… Why do you want to run your hands through it?
“Hey!” You squeak, interrupting your thoughts before they trudged down a guilty road. “What are you doing? Weren’t you going to play another round?”
He gives you a smirk, catching his breath as he holds out your house keys. “You forgot these! You were really moving fast… sick of us already?”
“Wh— oh my god, thank you!” With a quick swipe of your hand, you’re stuffing your keys into your pocket with a grateful smile. “Also, hardly.”
You admire the way his eyes light up at your confession. “Well.. since you don’t want to leave us so quickly.. how about I walk you home?” He seems almost hesitant asking, but you can’t help but applaud him for actually taking the initiative to inquire.
You shake your head, pulling the strap of your purse farther up your shoulder. “You don’t have t-“
“I want to!” He cuts you off quickly, catching you by surprise as he moves past you to open the door. He glances back, taking in your reluctant expression, “It’s not safe this time of night Y/n… You shouldn’t be alone.“
You know he didn't mean anything by that statement… But the idea of someone genuinely caring and not wanting you to be alone makes your heart swell. Jimin cares about your safety of course, but this feels… Different.
This is the reason why you allow him to walk you home.
The snow crunches beneath your feet, like a symphony that beckons you home. You’ve been feeling exhaustion seeping into your bones for the last ten minutes, but Taehyung's occasional brush of his arm as he walks beside you keeps you wide awake. He doesn’t think to apologize for accidentally touching you, but you blame it on the time of night. Delusion.
“How long have you lived in New York?” You question, wrapping your coat tighter around you to kick out the nipping air.
“About a year now,” He responds, shuffling his feet, “though it feels like way longer. You?”
“Three years.”
Taehyung turns his head towards you, eyes wide. “Wow, way to one up me.” With a teasing smile he continues, “You must know this city like the back of your hand.”
The truth is… you don’t. You came here for the sole purpose of making it on Broadway... you never really took the time to focus on anything else. Part of you wishes you had learned more, craved more, wanted more with your life—then you wouldn’t be so miserable when the one thing you do want doesn’t work out. “Yeah… kind of.”
If he hears the somber tone of your voice, he ignores it, turning against the wind as he walks backwards down the sidewalk. “It’s overrated in my opinion.”
You raise your head at this, “Why is that?”
“Everyone here has dreams… and those dreams get crushed more often than not.” He shrugs, “No one cares if you want to succeed, only if you already have.”
You stare at him for a moment, awestruck by the weight of his words. “But,” he adds, turning back towards the wind, “the ones who never give up and continue to chase that dream can become successful. Despite all of the no’s they might face, they always hold on till they hear a yes. That sounds like true success to me.”
Turning your head, you stare at the side of his face— admiring the way his hair tosses back a bit against the harsh winter winds. His words hit you way deeper than he probably realized, sinking into your chest with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. You’ve been contemplating recently on whether or not to give up on your dream… that maybe it just wasn’t going to work out for you. You have been trying for so long, and have repeatedly been let down. There was no way Taehyung could have known, which is why his words hit you as hard as they did. Despite the hardships, you’ve been here for three years and you’ve never given up or stopped trying to chase your dream.
That was an achievement, right?
“To be honest… I've heard a lot of no’s in my three years of being here.” You speak softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “Sometimes it feels like there will never be a yes… but here I am. At least I'm still working— at a coffee shop, not on the stage.”
“It’s admirable that you keep going.” Taehyung glances at you over his shoulder. “It makes you different from a lot of people who have left the city when they faced failure. It’s something to be proud of. Plus, coffee shop or big stage, you’re in New York City and pursuing your gift. It’s special.”
When your eyes meet, you smile at him, feeling a sense of victory the longer you hold his gaze.
“Don’t give up, Y/n. No matter what.” He speaks genuinely, leaning towards you to nudge you gently on your shoulder. You can’t help but laugh at his playfulness, giving him a nudge in return before your eyes downcast to your winter boots. The snow on the ground is fresh, powdery and sticking to the toes of your shoes. “Plus,” He adds, sucking in the chilly air, “you've got what others don’t have…”
This time when you meet his eye he has a serious expression, making sure he has your full attention as you round the corner towards your apartment building. His gaze is genuine, captivating… and a part of you hopes that the close proximity of your apartment wouldn’t cut this moment short. Finally, he speaks.
“You have passion.”
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Taehyung's words weigh on you for the rest of your night. It started off as something simple, looking up audition songs for an upcoming off-broadway show your agent was telling you about. Then, you went to learning it. After that, putting on makeup. And finally, completely forgetting about your sleep schedule and filming an entire audition tape in your room at 2 in the morning (and you were belting… your poor neighbors). It wasn’t until four that you finally turned in for the night, not bothering to take off your makeup or get changed-- simply falling onto your pillow and blacking out the moment you hit it. You were definitely sleeping the next day away… but at that moment, you didn’t mind. Having a day off from your busy schedule wouldn’t be so bad.
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“I sent in an audition tape two nights ago.” You speak confidently, wiping down the back counter that’s littered with coffee grounds. They stick to the rag like glue, tiny dots scattered along its white surface. If it weren’t for your apron,
and your expertly rolled up white turtleneck sweater, you would look alot like this rag right now.
“Did you?” Jimin questions from the bar, sleeving the cup before placing it on the handoff counter.
“Christopher! Medium cappuccino!” He calls, multitasking while he cranes his neck to still hear you.
“I did. I feel really good about this one..” You add, meeting him beside the bar as he lifts the pitcher up and down to create the latte-art of a flower in the center of the mug. You have tried sooooo many times to make latte art… and every time it ended up looking like a glob. A big, distorted snowball. Jimin was the master of latte art, always finishing it off beautifully with a whip of his wrist. The foam atop telling a story. “It was so late-- I was totally out of it… and yet I actually enjoyed myself while filming it. I just imagined being there.. In center stage.”
“I’m happy for you, Y/n!” He smiles, turning to place the hot mug next to the cappuccino.
“Caleb! Medium caramel latte!”
He was only half listening to you. The cafe was bustling, so it truly wasn’t Jimin's fault that he was sidetracked— but nothing could hold back the small smile that played at the edge of your lips. You had actually enjoyed singing for the first time in a while.. all because of Taehyung's Academy Award winning pep talk. Who knew that all you needed was for someone to tell you like it is. With a minuscule smile, you turn back towards the counter and lift the latte you’d whipped up this morning to your lips. Your distorted snowball is fully on display at the top.
Despite the busyness, the front register is deserted, giving you time to think for a moment about the pep talk... or rather, the person who gave you it.
“I think Taehyung likes you.” Jimin deadpans.
Uhhh… You nearly spit out your snowball at that— clearing your throat as you set it down slowly onto the wooden countertop. He speaks as if this is a natural conversation starter… it’s not.
“I’m sorry?” You croak.
“Taehyung.” He repeats, turning his head in your direction with a knowing smirk. “I think he likes you.”
You give him a scoff of disbelief, watching as yet another group of regulars enter through the door. “That’s not true, he just doesn’t know me… so he made an effort to talk to me.” If you weren’t studying the group, you would've seen Jimin giving you a scrutinized look.
So, now you have his attention.
“Y/n. It’s so obvious… He spent the entire night talking to you, he left moments after you did to give you your keys and he never came back. If that isn’t someone who’s interested, I don’t know what is.” Jimin is an expert at multitasking, finishing off two drinks at the same time and calling them out.
“Well, Jimin, when people don’t know each other, they get to know each other. It’s this thing called talking and becoming friends.” The sentence hangs in the air as the doorbell chimes, signaling that yet another customer has entered the cafe and into the swarm of regulars, but the two of you disregard the sound and continue on through your bickering.
“I’m just saying, Taehyung doesn’t usually talk to girls.” Jimin adds, wiping his hands off on the white rag seated beneath his espresso machine. “Even if they wanted his attention, he didn’t give it to them. I mean— he’s nice to girls, don’t get me wrong.. but he’s never talked to them like he did with you on game night. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since he got here.”
“He’s career driven.” You say quickly.
If you thought his smirk couldn’t get any wider, you were wrong. “Yeah, girls don’t know that about him— meaning he told you, and not other girls.” Jimin deadpans.
You stare blankly at him. There’s no way. No way that a guy as attractive as Taehyung would even think about looking at you like that. There’s just no way. You’ve never had a boyfriend... or even a guy friend, until Jimin. Eventually, you’d accepted the fact that maybe you just weren’t that interesting. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Maybe you couldn’t flirt…. okay, you definitely couldn’t flirt— but that’s besides the point.
“He’s not interested in me.” You conclude.
“He is.” Jimin counters.
“He’s not.”
“He so is.”
“He’s so not.”
“Y/n. I swear to you. He’s interested and you need to shoot your shot.” He whisper-screams, throwing the rag in his hand onto the bar.
“Taehyung is not-“
A clearing of someone’s throat from beyond the register cuts your argument short, nearly making you lose your balance when you see who the source was.
You’re fairly certain you’ve turned pale.
Taehyung stands in front of you, eyeing between the two of you with an awkward expression. God, how long has he been standing there? “I figured I should step in before the two of you start fist fighting.”
“Hey!” The shrill of your voice causes you to wince.
“Hey.” He says with a smile, folding his arms in front of him and raising his eyes to the menu above your head. You can’t help the glare you send towards Jimin, who's notably holding back his laughter as he moves to the blender, the station farthest from the register. Ridiculous.
“What can we get for you?” You ask routinely, trying not to make it obvious that you were just talking about him… and praying that he wasn’t there to hear what the two of you were talking about.
“Hmm…” He looks especially good today, wearing a brown, long coat and a brown plaid scarf around his neck. He wasn’t kidding when he said his favorite color was brown, that’s for sure. It suits him. His hair is wavy, flowing to a point just under his eyebrows with a split off center, giving you the tiniest glimpse of his forehead. “How about an americano with hazelnut, and some cream?”
“We can do that for ya!” You have to force yourself to stop looking at him, pressing the buttons to ring up his order before you forget. You nearly overlook ringing up the hazelnut syrup. Why were you so dazed? He’s already placed his credit card into the chip reader, but your foggy brain asks anyway. “Anything else?”
“Yes, actually.” He speaks as you move towards the bar beside the register. Grabbing an empty pitcher, you pour the milk inside and reach for the steamer. He drops a dollar into the tip jar, not giving you enough time to thank him for the unnecessary effort before he speaks again. “Are you free later?”
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NEXT CHAPTER
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eveenstar · 3 years
Text
𝑩𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔 [𝑨 𝑨𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒙 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑲𝒚𝒍𝒐 𝑹𝒆𝒏 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 || 𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒛𝒆𝒏 𝑨𝑼]
||➸𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐚𝐧||
Summary:  After your sister's coronation, you hoped destiny had bigger plans for you. With the arrival of the king of Alderaan, you finally feel like your life will turn into a fairytale after so many years of being isolated. Maybe you shouldn've have been so hopeful. But not everyone gets a happy ending, and maybe the answers you seek are right down the hallway.
Tags/Warnings: Angst.
Author's Note: Hello! Well, here's chapter 2 as promised. Kinda didn't like the ending, took me 3 takes. I also left a easter egg somewhere in this chapter, wanna see who'll notice it :)) Feedback is much appreciated ♡ Hope y'all enjoy!
Taglist: @girl-next-door-writes
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The ball room has never been so colorful like before, and you were certain you had never felt so many eyes laid on you like shadows in the dark. Like they were waiting for one single wrong move from you, a false step, so to say.
Your feet almost slid across the floor as you searched for your grandfather Palpatine in the crowd, he was nowhere to be seen. So many unfamiliar faces and no one to recognize, but again, you had no friends.
"Hello."
You turned around and met the brown eyes of your sister, Rey, who was staring at you with a relaxed smile.
"Oh, hello me?" You stupidly looked around in a brisk, "Uh, hi. You look beautiful! Is that mother's dress?"
An astonishing scarlet dress with a V neckline, you wouldn't say it was adequate for the coronation, but she looked amazing in it. Rey's new crown fit her head perfectly, you swore it was your father's crown but the newly red crystal on it made you doubt a little. What kind of crystal was that, anyway?
"I can say the same about you." Rey sweetly smiled and looked to the huge crowd dancing around the large gala room. She never looked at you for too long, you guessed it was merely because...well, you actually had no idea.
"Your Majesty, the duke of Alzakan."
"Alsakan! Duke of Alsakan! Ahem," You stared at Rey, and given to you two being sisters, you could sense how tense she'd gotten when a taller man approached her and overly exaggerated bowed down. You don't remember hearing about this duke's arrival, even if he made it seem like he was the brightest star of the room.
The queen gave him a polite nod.
"Your Majesty, as your most profitable trading partner, it is an honor to finally meet the true queen of Naboo." The man gently kissed Rey's hand, but even if it was just a respectful greeting, you didn't blame her for being tense. This duke had the energy of a child that ate too much sugar.
Behind Rey, you coughed by accident and it caught their attention as you saw both heads turn to you with brows furrowed. You got your perfect princess posture back and offered them a apologetic smile and a wave.
Rey put herself in front of you as a way of ending this embarassing moment and distract the duke as she offered her hand for a shake.
"I must say the same about you, Duke Pryde. My grandfather spoke very highly of you." This surely boosted Pryde's ego as he smug smirked to his guards behind him, "I hope our trade routes will remain as sucessful as they were with my parents."
"Well, I, uh." Their conversation faded to background noise as you tried to distance yourself from the spotlight and pretend this never happened, maybe if you slowly backed off nobody would notice the younger princess slinding off somewhere.
You felt too many eyes on you, even if your eyes were certain nobody was watching you. You did not plan on disappointing anyone, at least, not at your sister's coronation party. Full of grace, you looked to the crowd and surroundings, and your eyes paused on a strange symbol on the far away wall just to your right. It was a sixteen-rayed symbol inscribed within a hexagon, denoting an explosive force pushing against attempts to contain it.
You were quite sure you'd seen this symbol before, somewhere. Your eyes only focused on the sigil as you tried your hardest to search your memories for it. But, the closer you got to it, an invisible force pushed it further from your grasp. Just like sand slips through your fingers when you attempt to hold it.
In fact, you do not remember your childhood, nor your early teenage years. Not a single thing. You just remember the feelings after something traumatic had happened; the loneliness, the pain, the anger and more loneliness. Sometimes, as of right now, your mind didn't feel like your own, nor did your memories. They felt like they belonged to someone else. Someone who was not you.
Tu'iea eyes deceive tu, isar nenx jostas savimi
The whispers in the walls. There they were again. They always came from the walls, but you only say that because you hate to admit that they sound right next to you.
"(Y/N)?"
You loudly gasped as you turned around in a fright, your eyes met Rey's once more. She was frowning, and with a slight worried look painted on her eyes. Oh, you hoped nobody heard it.
"Is everything alright?"
You quickly washed off your scared face and laughed to ease the situation you were currently stuck in, hoping she wouldn't do any questions about it. Or mention it by any case.
"Dear stars, yes, I'm quite alright, thank you. It was probably just some bug."
She nodded, and only when she moved away from you that you realized Rey was holding your hand in a way of calling for your attention. Before moving to her side, you glanced an eye to the wall where the symbol was, but it wasn't there.
"This party looks so alive." Rey commented besides you, her eyes were as bright as stars in the sky as she watched the people dance like there was no worries in the whole galaxy.
"Maybe we could keep the gates open." You suggested, your heart full of hope. "Your queen now, Palpatine can't control us anymore. We can bring life back into the palace!"
"We can't just change things without thinking, (Y/N)."
"But why not? It can be like before. I don't understand." You softly grabbed her hands and stared into her eyes, "This party doesn't have to be the only one. We can have plenty of more!"
"That's right," She replied, and your smile stretched further, "You don't understand. You never will. Things will never be like before."
And just like that, you felt your heart shatter into millions of pieces, like somebody just pulled your heart out of your chest and stabbed it right in front of you. Even if you and Rey weren't close, she had never spoken to you that way. No, something changed about her.
Upon realizing her mistake, Rey let go of your hands and smiled, but a strange one. A forced smile.
"Forgive me, I...Excuse me."
Not even giving you the chance to apologize, you watched Rey disappear behind some group of horned beings, which you didn't even try to remember what they were before you heard another voice behind you.
"Princess (Y/N), we meet again." Kylo Ren, that voice was impossible to forget. "I was just about to meet the queen, did something happen?"
"Oh, no, she had to...to talk to some duke of Alzakan." You looked back at with, forcing the same smile Rey had just pulled ten seconds ago.
"You look upset." His coal eyes were analyzing you once more, as if he was trying to read your inner thoughts. His eyes were like black holes, you quote internally, so easy to get lost in. They held so many emotions within. Your mother used to tell you that your eyes are mirrors to your soul, and you believe it, most of the time. You wonder what kind of soul Kylo Ren had.
"I'm sorry, do you want to get some air?"
The king silently nodded and gave you the front lead to the palace private gardens, your most favorite place to wander around and be in contact with nature, since you weren't allowed to leave the palace's grounds.
The echoes of the enchanting gala sounds began to fade in the background at each step you took farther from it. The shiny walls were replaced by glass ones, the only barrier between you and the actual garden. It was ethereal at moonlight, a complete breathtaking view. If you were to choose a place to spend all of eternity, this garden would be the chosen one.
Saturn Gardens.
The name you remember choosing for them when you were a child. Which doesn't make a lot of sense since it's only one garden, but hey, who cares right? Saturn was a funny name, you had a slight feeling it belonged to a name of something you were deeply fond of, but you couldn't quite grasp what it was. Nonetheless, you were thankful you choose a good name for them.
Yvir always told you how heavenly you looked at moonlight, and you're sure of it. This place is almost magical, so peaceful and silent even when there's a party happening just on the end of the hallway. You remember falling asleep here a few times, either it was reading or painting. You were quite a multi-talent person thanks to growing up bored and isolated on a huge palace, so you've gained a few skills here and there. This place was your big centre of inspiration.
You felt free here, from all responsabilities and troubles of life.
You discreetly glanced a curious eye to Kylo, who was walking besides you and attentively exploring the garden with his eyes only. In your mind, you wondered if he had a safe place too. A place where he felt free of everything, where he could relax without troubles, or where he felt inspired. Maybe everyone has something like that, you're not sure.
"Truth be told, I have no idea why my grandfather ordered the gates to be closed, or why most staff was fired." You sighed while your fingers gently passed through some book pages laying there on the pale blue glass table. Kylo looked over to you with an intrigued gaze. "Or why my sister shut me out. It was always me and myself."
So distracted by your thoughts, you barely noticed Kylo taking your hand from the book and hold it. His hands felt warm, surprisingly, as you had imagined that they were cold as ice. In difference to yours, his hands were also far larger. It caused a small smile across your lips.
"I spent most of my childhood lonely too." He admitted, his eyes never leaving your hands. "My parents were either ignoring me or too busy to hear me."
You remember the stories about them, but you didn't want to cross the line and ask him. This conversation you and the king of Alderaan were currently having was something that already cross rule number three; never mention his parents. So this caught you off guard.
Probably noticing your tense posture, Kylo's eyes shifted to yours; they held such a curious yet comforting gaze, as if this was his attempt to say "it's okay" without actually saying those two words. The moon behind him made him seem like an angel.
"I know how you feel." He assured you calmly. You were so lost in his eyes, so lost in the way they stared at you. "You can talk to me."
If you could preserve this moment, you would. You'd keep it close to your heart and protect it from all darkness in the galaxy. The mighty and mysterious Kylo Ren, former prince and now king of Alderaan, just opened his heart to you and pronounced those five words that you had never been told before.
You hoped this wasn't a dream. It'd break your soul if it was.
"Do you dance?" Upon your sudden question, Kylo raised an eyebrow. You got up from your seat and twirled around, loving the way your dress moved. "Will you dance with me?"
Even if his lips didn't move, his eyes expressed all the emotions you needed. They were like a calm ocean, or the rising sun in a early morning.
"My lady," He politely offered you his hand, once more. "It would be my pleasure."
You smiled, the most genuine smile you'd had in a long time. Your heart was filled with joy and excitement, hopefully it wouldn't jump out of your chest by the way it was beating so fast. Faster than the way you rushed to the coronation. You never felt like this for someone, no, and definitely not for him.
His moves were calculated, but so tender-hearted and light. He twirled you around again and kept you close to his chest, one hand on your waist and another one guiding your other hand. At this point, you weren't even worried about making the wrong turn or stepping your foot on his. No, no, it was like your body was no longer your own, but knew perfectly which steps to take and you were glad for that.
In your mind, you imagined dancing like this with Kylo in the middle of a royal ballroom, but it was only you two. With or without music, it didn't matter, you and Kylo were too busy staring at each other's eyes to notice any background sound.
You had no idea how long you two had been dancing, but it ended so quickly.
"May I ask you something?" He asked in a strange, low voice.
"Of course, anything." You stepped a bit away from him once the dance came to an end.
Kylo traced lines alongside your hand, back and forth, and another hand came to meet your cheek as he slowly caressed it.
"Will you marry me?"
Oh dear stars.
Everything stopped around you, at least that's what you felt. You didn't even know what to say or do. Maybe, just maybe, the universe was finally showing you your destiny. That you were worthy of something just like Rey is.
The king of Alderaan had just asked you to marry him, and there was only one answer available to your heart.
You laughed and smile, nodding in happiness, "Yes!"
The ballroom was still full, everybody seemed to be having a great time just like you. Palpatine was nowhere to be seen, but Rey was seen talking to Duke Pryde and some others you assumed were also trading partners. Poor thing, a part of you felt guilty she had to spend her party talking to them. She didn't look happy. But maybe the news you're about to give her will make it up. That's what you hoped for.
Moving through the crowd as you held Kylo's hand had already got you lots of side-eyes and surprised gasps and whispers. This will entertain them for a very long time, and you didn't even try to hide your smile. Why would you? You're the most happy person in this room right now, and you were not going to hide your emotions again.
"Rey! I mean, your Majesty, may I speak to you, please?"
She nodded, excusing herself from the boring companies, and followed you to a more empty space of the room.
"I, I mean, we'd like to ask for your blessing on," You and Kylo looked at each other for a brief moment, "on our marriage!"
Rey almost chocked on her drink and quickly put it down on a table.
"Ma,Marriage?" You nodded. "I'm sorry, I'm quite confused here."
"Well, I know it's a bit of a sudden, and we haven't planned the ceremony, but it could happen here! Just like mother and father's wedding." You chuckled innocently at the thought of it.
"If Your Majesty doesn't mind it, of course." At this comment, that you didn't spare a thought, Rey furrowed her brows at Kylo in a angry stance and dismissed him completely.
"We could invite everyone in the kingdom! We could get so many songs to play and the decoration, oh I'll need to talk with Yvir." You put your hands on your hips, going through a mental list of preparatives for the wedding. You couldn't wait to tell Yvir.
"(Y/N)-"
"Oh stars, I hope you don't mind if Kylo stays here until the wedding! I'll need a few days to plan everything-"
"Absolutely not! (Y/N)!"
You stopped, her loud voice kicking all thoughts you previously had. Kylo, next to you, stared at her with indifference, like this somehow didn't even surprise him.
Rey inhaled calmly, "With all due respect, your Majesty, but my sister can't marry a man she just met."
"What? You can't decide that for me, Rey. I'm an adult, just like you." You crossed your arms, eyebrows furrowed just like hers. Your sister's expression turned to a more uncomfortable one, and you had no idea why this was making her be like that.
"(Y/N), you're too young to know about love."
"And I suppose you know instead? All you ever did was shut everyone out. You shut me out."
All the eyes in the room were now on you three, this time not even a single whisper was heard. Even more silent than the gardens. Rey shifted uncomfortably on her feet, moving her fingers repeatedly, a panicked gaze on her eyes.
"(Y/N)-"
"Just why, why do you do this? Why did you shut me out? What are you so afraid of?" Unlikely and unexpected, you screamed at her, only to regret it the moment that sentence left your mouth. But it was too late.
"That's enough, (Y/N)!"
A rash strong blow sent Kylo flying across the room. Hadn't it been for Kylo placing himself as a shield in front of you, you knew that was intended for you.
"That's the force." Somebody said.
"She's a Jedi!"
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ephemeralgalaxies · 3 years
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Loki Ep4 Spoilers below (once more bc I just can't help myself, can I?)
It's been a while since I've had a character as interesting as Mobius to analyze and I have no chill. Spoilers start below:
Also some spoilers for WandaVision but it's been months so hopefully y'all have seen it
TL;DR Mobius really trying to connect back with Loki in order to try and bring the TVA down (and also bc "oops, Loki was right, guess I gotta own up to that bitterness") and it works but it hurts so much. Also see: I can't stop watching this scene over and over trying to understand Mobius' subtle actions bc his reaction here is so different than in all other scenes where he's usually calm or trying to delve deep into Loki's mind for information. Now he's just desperate.
Ok so I know I made a post talking about Mobius' jealousy in that interrogation scene but I also want to touch on when he comes back again after seeing the footage from C-20's interrogation scene bc man is so desperate here and I'm crying
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(I'm sorry, I can't get gifs to work for me today so we just using images. But I got these from this post)
Mobius was so hurt last time we saw him, Loki being thrown back into the time cell with Lady Sif, hitting our dear agent with "out of all the liars in this place... you are the biggest... for the [lies] you tell yourself." Mobius has been pushing down all these doubts, hiding all his questions and curiosities of the TVA for a while. He's teased Ravonna, but could never really get anywhere. Then after speaking with Loki about Sylvie, about "you're all variants", Hunter B-15's suspicions, the oddness of C-20's "death" (M:"she was just fine before." R:"well, then she suddenly wasn't fine."). Mobius is finally allowing himself to realize things, to question truly what is going on. (R: "Is that what you wanted to hear?" M: "Yeah, if that's the truth." R: "You've been around Lokis too long.")
In this scene, when he comes back to the time cell for Loki, he's frustrated, he's angry, he's desperate. Everything is a lie. He can't pretend anymore. Loki has bonded with Sylvie (actually caring for another human being without the trauma of Thor: The Dark World and Thor: Ragnarok) ((I'm begging you, pls let him see a variant of Thor in this series and get to bond again, I miss them)). C-20 is likely pruned and gone forever with no answers. B-15 is getting anxious and unfocused. Ravonna is snapping at him and manipulating him with those long speeches (please, Mobius has heard enough from Loki's videos to know when he's being manipulated by fake sentimental words). He's tired, no longer patient enough for all the little quips-- he just need answers. For once in his "life" at the TVA, he just wants the truth. Something to safely hold to.
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He's just put Loki through this timeloop of Lady Sif, of someone from home someone that could've been close to him under different circumstances, someone his brother cared about, kicking him/slapping him/ berating him with "you deserve to be alone, and you always will be." Loki's whole "Sacred Timeline Life" marks him to "always be alone", to finally get close to people before being torn away (whether in his own volition or by someone/something else). But with Loki caring for Sylvie, maybe even loving her, this changes everything for this Loki. He could finally care enough to save someone, to go out of his way in order to help others at his own cost. And Mobius knows this.
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He asks again, desperate, pleading, hoping. Loki has to believe in himself, has to love himself enough to think to believe that he deserves a family, love, security from his greatest fear. He has to have changed because if not, then he'll either get pruned or wind up just like Mobius. Either way, gone from existence-- life erased, precious memories of "what if", "what once was", obliterated. He has to believe, or it'll happen again and again and again. To everyone, to the whole universe, unless something someone could do the impossible and shatter all reality.
With Wanda (specifically in WandaVision, final episode end credits), with her searching for her children and Vision, attempting the impossible and blending her realities in order to give them life because she needs them, she loves them. (M: "If you really care about [Sylvie]..."). This threat to the Sacred Timeline, pushing closer and closer to the MCU Multiverse, because they have to, because they want to.
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(sorry again for bland picture, I love his expression in this gif but it wont load)
Mobius knows Loki is hurting-- from Lady Sif, from his past, from failing to protect Sylvie on his own, from Mobius not believing him and calling him "just a bad friend". He knows Loki could learn to believe, but he doesn't yet. Only Frigga ever told him she believed in him, he needs to hear it again. He needs to know he deserves love because he is loved. Mobius does, "believe, stupidly" (ep2) that Loki has this potential.
When I first saw this scene in the trailers, I was nervous it would be in the context of Mobius trying to get Loki on the TVA's side, "someone good". But here, this is so much better-- he knows the TVA is lying, is manipulating, is destroying lives. (L: "No one bad is every truly bad, and no one good is ever truly good" ep2 again lol). Loki knows he's not "truly good", that he's hurt people-- whether he planned to or not. But he can still be good. He can still choose to love, to care, to believe.
He can be what he's always wanted, what Frigga promised him, what he's always feared. He can be known, be loved, be safe-- Loki doesn't just fear being alone, he fears people choosing to leave him. That's why the memory of Lady Sif instead of Thor reaching for him on the Rainbow Bridge or Thanos threatening the Asgardian refugees or even Odin trying to explain why he "saved" Loki when he fought Loki's homeland. This memory was casual, simple, unnecessary. But it's always the smallest moments that truly impact us the most-- the slight changes.
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When Mobius says this to Loki, he freezes-- he's confused, hesitant, scared. No one tells him this, why is someone telling him this, how can I believe this?
And then:
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.And the little shrug Mobius gives here
It's so casual, so simple, so nonchalant. He just wants to reassure Loki that he still cares. He just spent a whole interrogation hounding on Loki for finding love with Sylvie, for changing with her (jealous boi be jealous), for lying to him and betraying him (M: "You don't do partners... unless ofc it benefits you and you intend to betray them at some point"). But now, now he's stopped lying to himself. He knows he cares, that Loki has a chance, that they have to burn this place down. Mobius wants stop this from ever happening again, from someone ever having to go through what Loki's gone through, being told they can never be loved because that's just how the Timeline goes. That a kid would be taken away from their family (probably because Sylvie presents feminine?? Idk, feel like MCU Odin wouldn't be so good with that). He has to reassure Loki, he wants to, because no one should ever feel that way again.
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(and frick I really hate this, please look at the gifs from the linked post above, u gotta see his precious smile grow)
LOOK AT THIS SMILE, LOOK AT HIM HE'S HAPPY. And it was such a small, subtle apology from Mobius but it made all the difference bc he told Loki that he believes in him. And then they walk back out of the time cell, side-by-side, looking at each other. Content, safe, prepared to face the world together. He's no longer alone.
... And then ofc this happens...
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*cue my heart shattering* (bless Hiddleston's acting).
The fact that you can even hear the hitch in Mobius' breath as he realizes this is the end of the line for him, that Ravonna knows and there's no going back--he's not making it out of this.
"One last desperate trick from the desperate trickster."
He talks about the jetski, about what his life might have been, he knows this hits Loki, being ripped from your timeline, losing all that potential. More importantly, it gives Loki a reason to fight. A silent, "Don't let this happen again. Don't let them get away with this. Please, remember me, don't let me disappear." But it doesn't work, because the one thing Mobius didn't account for, is that Loki cares about him. That now, the fight drains out of him. They pruned Mobius, ofc they'll get to Loki and Sylvie. They didn't even hesitate. Loki just lost, once again, the only other person who ever told him they believed in him. "You can be whoever, whatever..." "She told me I could do anything..."
Loki is less of a narcissist and more of a person desperate to fill that hole inside-- he's been neglected, cast aside, told he should want this and then never getting it. A "Glorious Purpose" to always hide in the shadows, to cause suffering, to give others a reason to unite against him. But for once, just once he hoped that he didn't have to do it alone-- that he could unite. And then they crushed those beautiful few seconds of hope like it was just another tedious, burdening purpose of the TVA.
(credits of images/gifs to the original posts linked, none were mine as I can't figure this out at all lol)
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