#the political discussion was getting a bit heated alright :0 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

timextoxhajima · 3 years

Text

Grounded: Level 5

Level 4 | Level 6

Member: Minho (Lee Know)

Genre: idol minho x idol trainee reader

Taglist: @jaehyvnsvalentine @licorice526 @lolwhatameme @felixn-recs @yunapixie

[D E C E M B E R 2 0 1 9]

Your hands fly up to your face when you can hear the first few beats of the song they were supposed to perform at the KBS Song Festival. Of all songs to choose, they had to choose just one of the most iconic debut songs of all time?

As usual, Beomgyu was fitted right into the centre, because where else would he fit better? And Taehyun was given the opening line and then Kai pops out from nowhere looking like a toy poodle with that hairdo of his. Then our favourite bunny leader finally shows up-

And of course, Yeonjun gets the chorus, as he does the dance break where he winks into the camera. The tiny, version of you is struggling to pick up the million pieces your heart had just shattered into in your chest.

“Yah, Yeonjun is so cool-” Minjung coos about it to So Eun.

“How in the world did he manage to maintain his top trainee ranks?” Another trainee, Gahyun, leans back in the sofa you were previously sitting on, fiddling with the string from her hoodie. “We take turn to kiss the top before sliding back down.”

The group of female trainees laugh boisterously, but you are caught up in the likes of Yeonjun, and Yeonjun only. How lucky did you have to be to get into this company, the one only made popular recently because of BTS, and became known as ‘Yeonjun’s favourite female trainee’?

“y/n, would you sit down?” Gahyun gets up just to tug on your shirt, pulling you back to the couch.

“Why’d you interrupt her? Couldn’t you see she was whipped?” Minjung snickers, interlocking her arm with yours and leaning her head on your shoulder. “As much as I ship you and Yeonjun together, aren’t you afraid BigHit’s going to screw with you for being so close to his new money-making machine?”

“What?” You look down at Minjung, the maknae of the group you debut in. She’s three years younger and she’s nothing but a baby. "Whoever said anything’s gonna happen?”

Gahyun scoffs from the side, raising a teasing brow at you. “Maybe not now but in the future? Please.”

“But didn’t y/n have something going on with Lee Know from Stray Kids?” So Eun peels open a salad box and shoves a fork of salad and chicken into her mouth.

Min Jung gasps, eyes widening and mouth open. “You had something with Lee Know? Like- the main dancer of Stray Kids?”

“No.”

“Yes,” Gahyun raises a brow.

“No, I had something for Lee Know, and I’m through with it.”

Minjung pouts and leans her head against your shoulder again. Ju Rin (who would be your leader) walks into the room before anybody else can say anything.

“Why’d you stop?” She lays some packs of drinks on the table. “I heard something about Lee Know.”

“Am I the only person who doesn’t know anything about this-” Minjung frowns and nudges you, arm still linked in yours.

“Yes,” So Eun mumbles through a full mouth of salad and chicken.

“What? Why?” The maknae whines, and Gahyun pulls you over for her to note one of your group practices.

“Fewer people knowing equals less risk,” Ju Rin sucks in a deep breath. There’s a gentle wheeze because one of her nostrils is blocked from the air-conditioning in the room. “I don’t think it’ll be wise if people know of their relationship before we even debut.”

“But what was it like? Why does it sound like... you fell out with him?” Minjung’s soft voice tugs on all the heartstrings in your chest.

Gahyun, Ju Rin and So Eun fall silent, with Gahyun looking up from the screen to you.

Ju Rin shoves her hands into her pockets. “You don’t need to tell her if you don’t want to.”

Minjung pouts, earning your attention despite Ju Rin’s defense.

“That’s because we did. After he debuted, we no longer texted or hung out as much. I was mad and said some stuff... and since then we haven’t really had a proper conversation.”

“What?” Minjung finally sits up and pulls away from you. “Wait a minute, didn’t you visit Stray Kids with Yeonjun in August?”

“We did but... It was still kind of awkward. Not much was done besides us giving them a fruit basket.”

“I hate to butt in and say this but...” Gahyun locks her phone and leans back into the couch, turning her head to you. “It might’ve been for the best. He’s debuted and you’re set to debut soon. The last thing you would want is to get into a scandal with him.”

“I know,” Your eyes travel down to your hands. You’ve peeled a piece of skin too far up the cuticle of your finger, and the blood’s smudged a little, enticing you to shove it into your mouth to get rid of the redness. The metallic taste of your own blood stings your taste buds, but not as much as the truth is stinging your gut. “That’s why I’m not doing anything.”

There is a hair-raising silence in the air that’s packed with awkwardness - nobody knows what to say. So, thank God TXT bursts through the room after their performance, sweat in their hair and their microphones being peeled off their cheeks.

“Well, well, well, looks who’s back!” Gahyun lifts a hand and does one of those bro handshakes with Taehyun. “High notes for days, man.”

“There’s a reason why I scored an A for vocals, you know,” Taehyun rolls the microphone wire around the pack and hands it to the staff.

“Subtle flex but alright,” Gahyun snickers. Yeonjun hands his microphone pack to one of the staff members, and he turns to you, shaking his head and again showing his disapproval of his own performance.

“Why? You did well.”

“Nah,” He shakes his head and pats Minjung’s head. “Could’ve been better.”

“Whaaaat?” Someone should start counting how many times Minjung says ‘what’ today. “Who are you kidding?”

“Who are you kidding?” Soobin finally chimes in after pulling his jacket off. “Improvement’s great but there’s no reason to harp over a performance that’s already done.”

“I’d correct you there, but I’m too tired to get engaged in a discussion with you.”

Soobin grins in response. Minjung starts swooning about their performance while you listen to Ju Rin, Gahyun and So Eun fight with Beom about something stupid.

“Hey, um,” He calls out to you after some time, Yeonjun making sure that nobody was really eyeing the two of you. “Could I have some time?”

Chicken. That’s what your heart is now. A headless chicken running around in your chest and if it were possible, screaming.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” A gentle frown is bestowed upon the space between your brows. Yeonjun turns on his heels as you get up from the couch, eyes scanning the room and only one person meets eyes with you.

Ju Rin eyes are gentle, but full of caution. Do not do anything stupid, her eyes say.

By the time Yeonjun’s gotten you to a corner of the floor where there was nobody around and no camera in sight, you’ve already run into half the groups that were performing today. You even ran into Hyunjin on the way, who does nothing but politely greet Yeonjun and squint at you instead.

But there was no doubt - your heart is racing and ramming so hard against the inner walls of your ribcage that would’ve been enough to fracture a rib. Sweaty palms and a damp back calls for an uneasy flapping of your top around your neck, absentmindedly wiping your hands against the pockets of your shorts.

“What is it?” Shoving your hands into your pockets, you can only hope he doesn’t notice you’re shaking.

Yeonjun peers over your shoulder to look behind you, though he doesnt’t really need to put in any effort to do so. After making sure nobody was around, he looks down at you, only because his eyes are easily a palm’s worth taller than you, probably more.

“Look, I just... I just wanted you to know that I am so grateful to have you in my life... I don’t think I could’ve done it so easily without you.”

What is this? A confession? No, it can’t be. Yeonjun’s not the type to risk his career for love - or is he? What’s he going to say? Hell, what am I going to say? I’m not prepared for this.

“I just wanted to tell you in person, in private that-”

Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

“You’re one of my best friends; you’re like a sister to me and I just... there’s nothing I could do to show you how much I appreciate you...”

His words have faded out. Your heart has stopped, simply from the exhilarating pot of emotions that’s completely died.

This wasn’t the plan. He wasn’t supposed to friendzone me like this - no, sis-zone me.

“Uh, yeah.” The words. They are automatic. You are not processing them because they just slip off your tongue like a natural reaction. Your breathing’s shallow, but Yeonjun’s so far up in his cloud-nine that he doesn’t see it. “Of course. Anything for you. You’ve helped me through my training. It’ll be shit of me if I didn’t give back.”

You’re about to hurl, but he’s about to give you a hug he thinks would be healing, but you might just punch through a wall for being so foolish.

"Alright, I've said whatever I wanted to say. Man, it sure feels great to get these things off your chest."

Sure is.

Why didn't you see this? Why did you think he was going to confess? I am an absolute dumb piece of- low-life son of a-

"Hey," He calls out to you. He's already about a few metres from you, toes pointing to where you both came from. "You following or what?”

"Uh, I think I gotta use the washroom for abit."

"Oh," Yeonjun's shoulders sink a tiny bit. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm..." Your eyes wander off him, unable to maintain your gaze on him. It's unbearable, to know that you've played yourself so hard. "I'm fine. I just need to do a... number two."

Yeonjun winces, then cringes, then waves you off teasingly while half-jogging back to his own rehearsal room.

The walls of the corridor feel extra empty now, though they already are. The sunlight from behind you is heating up your back, because now you're feeling the cold, harsh reality of being the stupid on in all your dynamics. Grey streaks on white marbled floors reflect the fluorescent ceiling lights as you struggle to take a few steps to the washroom - not because you didn't want to go, but because you knew that once you were within the safety of 4 walls, nothing will stop the tears from running.

Stupid, wishful, hopeful dreaming.

The plastic toilet seat clanks against the ceramic bowl when you sit down, and leaning your forearms on your thighs, you force some breaths in before the tears seep out. You have to be quiet though, lest you want half the K-Pop industry to realise you've officially clowned yourself.

The tears finally kiss the floor. One drop, then two and three and four and your palm is over your mouth to stop the sobs from escaping your lips. But a creak of the toilet door shuts you up even more, though the hiccups from the sobbing's still making you emit more noise, against your wish.

The footsteps are light and careful, and you can hear the person push the doors of the other cubicles open. The unknown person tries your door and falters, feet remaining right outside the cubicle you are in. Tear stained hands of yours quickly wipe your face and cover your mouth before you can let another squeaky sob out, but nothing will prepare you for when you hear that voice.

"y/n?"

It’s a split second before you surge for the door and unlock it, eyes flooded with tears threatening to dribble over your lower lids. There’s a slight surprise in his face as his eyes widen an almost-unnoticeable amount. Then it’s replaced with empathy, which is strange because Minho’s been so caught up in chasing his dreams that you don’t think he’s felt this kind of heartbreak before, falling in love with someone who doesn’t know you’re in love with them.

He doesn’t say anything before he drags you into his arms, palm resting on the back of your head, patting the space between your shoulder blades.

It echoes through the washroom, the sobs, drowning you more in your sorrows than you’re already providing yourself. The vicious cycle is only dampened as your tears no longer hit the floor, and instead creates a darker shade of material on his shoulder where your head was resting.

“It’s okay,” For the first time in almost two years, Minho isn’t upset or unpleasantly surprised at your presence.

It’s not the comfort his voice provides, it’s the comfort his voice brings that makes you erupt even more.

“I’m here.”

[J A N U A R Y 2 0 2 0]

The uncle that mans the honey-glazed apple store of the night market back home couldn’t be happier to see the two of you. It’s a surprise he could still make out who you were under the snow-covered caps and masks and haphazardly-thrown-together winter clothes. (Which deemed your disguise horrible.)

You could tell Minho was smiling because his eyes creased under the shade of the cap as the elderly man leans over the stand. He hands you the apples and cups the side of his mouth with his palm, whispering, “You have no idea how many people have come by asking if this is the stall Stray Kids Lee Know buys his honey-glazed apples from.”

“How do people even sieve out this information?” Minho chortles, taking the apples.

“Beats me, the younger generation is scary nowadays,” He pulls away and pulls more apples out from the ice box under the stand. “Especially with their gadgets and all.”

“It was nice seeing you again,” The words are slightly muffled by the mask, but you manage to get your point across. “We’ll come back soon.”

“Come back when you’ve debuted! It’s been so long, why haven’t I seen you on TV?” He frowns, and the lines on his face become accentuated. You can’t tell if the creases highlighted his wrinkles or it was the other way round.

“I’ve just been training, ahjusshi, I still have a long way to go.”

“What’s your role gonna be?” He points to you, and his finger is trembling because that’s how old he is. “This rascal’s like- a dancer or something, right?”

“‘A dancer or something’, ha!” You snort, nudging Minho in his side, who grunts upon the physical contact. “I’ll be listed as a main dancer too. I thought I’d be the leader because I’m pretty old to debut compared to the kids nowadays but there’s someone else older and more mature.”

“You? Leader?” Minho sneers with a full mouth. “Please.”

The store holder smiles, only to be jolted out of his dream of his two self-proclaimed children when someone else comes by.

“You two better beat it,” He squints at the two of you, helping you leave quietly without unwanted suspicion. “I’ll see you soon.”

Minho waves at him, and you happily sing out a “Bye!” since nobody would recognise your voice.

You could swear that there were people who took a double take at your company, but Minho was so pre-occupied with his dessert that it doesn’t give the passerbys enough time to process who he was.

“So, what’s next?” You pull your mask down to munch on the apple, as Minho quickly pulls his mask back up when he notices more people taking second glances.

“Well, we are releasing English versions of Levanter and Double Knot later this month...” A pause as he struggles to remember his own schedule. “And then a Japanese release of the same songs in March.”

Laughing the last few words off, he knows how absurd it sounds, though he knows its for the benefit of the group.

“Damn,” You snort through your nose and the vapour through the mask still manages to forms a cloud that you walk through. “Y’all turning into Mr. Worldwide now.”

Minho chuckles under his breath, gently shaking his head.

There’s an overwhelming taste of nostalgia on your tongue when you notice the snow getting heavier as you walk to the bus stop, the crowd finally tailing off. The cap manages to protect your eyes from the falling snow, but some still manage to get onto Minho’s lashes as he frantically blinks and groans adorably, rubbing his eyes to get them out.

You smile ever so slightly under the mask, though he can’t see it. The snow looks like gold flakes as it drizzles in the distance; around the amber-lit lamp across the road. Cars, vans, trucks drive past and time feels like it doesn’t exist for a split second. Minho stays still next to you, head gently turning to take in the view around him.

“February 2016,” Loud enough to get through the mask, he manages. “And it’s already January 2020.”

“Wow, thanks for reminding me that I’ve put up with your shit for so long,” Shoving your gloved hands into the pockets of your coat, you roll your eyes to look at him.

The chuckle he emits sounds like bells during Christmas. “Do you remember what happened that day?”

“Mhm,” Your eyes fall to the floor, snow already thinly coating your boots. “How could I not?”

“You know... I auditioned for Cube, and got rejected that day,” A pause. Looking at him from the corner of your eyes, you don’t tell him you saw the email. “If you weren’t there with me, I don’t think I could’ve held myself together. I thought that was it. I thought... I had no other chance.”

A car whirs past, the mixture of crunch of snow and slush of water when it drives past cues him to pause again. Maybe he was telling himself not to cry.

“But then you were there with me, and I don’t think anything else could’ve held me together as well. I just thought I couldn’t break down infront of you. You and the rest of the crew needed me, and I couldn’t stop then.”

The twitch in your forehead tells you that you are complete shit at holding yourself together. You had to blink the tears out from your eyes before they threatened to fall over and dampen the rim of your mask. There’s that silence in the air again, but it’s warm and cozy despite the snow. It’s like the time you’ve spent away from him has been compensated in these two months. It’s like nothing has changed, even though the world around you has.

“Thank you. For being there when you didn’t need to...”

A pause. You’re terrified to look at him because you know he’s looking at you.

“And I’m sorry for treating you like you meant nothing to me, because you mean alot.”

#lee know scenarios #lee know #stray kids scenarios #stray kids minho #stray kids lee know #stray kids #stray kids imagines #skz lee know #skz #skz scenarios

27 notes · View notes

cali-holland · 4 years

Text

Golden Hearts, Ch. 1: You Only Live Twice

Harrison Osterfield X Reader, James Bond AU ~ Sequel to Golden Bullets

Following a messy split, Harrison, Agent 007, resumes his role as an elite womanizer, after his recovery from his previous mission; meanwhile, you’ve stepped back from your 00 status, taking on cases as MI6’s assistant director from your office. When a new threat emerges to MI6 and a dear friend gets kidnapped, can you and Harrison set aside your differences to save special agent Q, better known as Tom? Or will the stakes- and your love, push you two further apart?

Word Count: 3400

Gif is not mine

Golden Hearts Masterlist

Masterlist Harrison Osterfield Masterlist

Let me know if you want to be added to the series tag list

Warnings: talk of kidnapping/death/weapons dealing; someone gets thrown on the ground but they’re fine; knives??

Featured Song: “You Only Live Twice” by Nancy Sinatra from You Only Live Twice (1967)

~ “You only live twice, or so it seems, One life for yourself, and one for your dreams “

~~~

Your breath hitched in your throat as you tightened your grip on your gun. Slowly, you peeked out from behind the tattered down wall, checking for any oncoming motion. With the coast clear, you made your way down the hallway, illuminated with fluorescent blue lights, making your white shoes glow in the dark. At the end of the hallway, you let out a small sigh of relief and pressed your back flat to the wall. You turned to look down the next hall, watching as figures passed by laughing and screaming in joy. You tried to spot your target, finger itching to pull the trigger.

Before you could continue your journey along the dark halls, you heard an electronic bang! ring out and you looked down as your red vest and gun lit up and changed to a plain white.

“Damn you-” You muttered, starting to turn around to face the man who’d shot you, but you were cut off by him kissing you. His hands leaned on the wall, pining you between it and him.

“Harrison 3, Y/N 0.” He smirked, and you playfully scowled at him. “Who would’ve known you sucked so much at laser tag?”

“This gun,” You held up your now white plastic gun, “is nothing like an actual gun. It’s not at all realistic for a gun to be this light.”

“You’re just a sore loser.” Harrison teased, his blue eyes lighting up even more from the blue lights surrounding the two of you.

“Are you going to let me go?” You asked, biting your lip. Your fingers trailed along the lit up blue vest he wore as his laser tag vest. “Or are we going to spend our last ten minutes of laser tag doing something else?”

“The latter sounds pretty fun.” He replied, leaning in to kiss you again. Not caring about anyone seeing the two of you make out in a dark corner, Harrison got lost in the heated kiss. Meanwhile, you had other plans. Still kissing him with the same passion as he kissed you, you let your free hand make its way to his neck, tugging on the hair at the base of his neck, knowing exactly how wild that drove him.

You smiled into the kiss as you heard your gun light up again, telling you that you were back in the game. Harrison heard the small noise too, but he couldn’t react fast enough and you had already shot his vest with your gun.

“Oh, my bad, were you not expecting that?” You smiled innocently. Harrison just laughed before his lips found yours again.

You woke up with a jump, a thin layer of sweat covering your anxiety filled body. Instinctively, you reached for the gun that you kept in your bedside table, but you stopped as soon as your fingers touched cold metal. You were fine, no one was in the room with you, you didn’t need the protection.

Running a hand over your face, you groaned and trudged your way out of bed. Why did you have to have that stupid dream of your stupid ex? It was frustrating to think you and Harrison were once living your best lives together as special agents by day and lovers by night. Your relationship with him was thrilling, lively, fun— it brought out a whole new side of you. But the fun stopped when you left your 00 status; unbeknownst to Harrison, that was to help with the merge of MI6 and Nine Eyes. A part of you also hoped that maybe if you were to take your job as assistant director more seriously then you could feel safer about your relationship with Harrison, which no one except for Tom knew about. The last thing MI6 needed was for two 00’s to get caught up in love and forget their main duty to their country.

As you went about your morning routine, you did your best to forget all thoughts of Harrison and to instead focus on deciphering Tom’s message. L’Americain? Who or what was that? It simply meant The American in French— did he mean the American these men were trying to find? A part of you thought that maybe Tom didn’t even know. He was away on a family vacation, one that shouldn’t have involved him in such an odd affair. He never sent you encrypted messages, and you had a gut instinct that something was wrong, but it was a mystery that you weren’t sure how to solve.

“Is everything alright?” Moneypenny asked, poking her head into your office the next day as you sat at your office chair, head in your hands, desperately wanting to somehow leave this paperwork behind to go to sleep and rest your mind. You sat up straight in your plush chair and cleared your throat.

“Yes, everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” You replied, biting back a yawn.

“You seem tired,” She trailed off while she stepped into the room, coming to stand in front of your desk, “And distracted.”

“Just had a bit of trouble sleeping peacefully is all.” You lied. You suspected by MI6’s general lack of acknowledgement towards Tom’s absence and email that you were the only one to have received the message.

“M is having a meeting in an hour with C and would like you to join him.” Moneypenny explained her appearance in your office before you could even ask.

“Lovely.” You gave her your best smile, and she chuckled lightly, seeing right through you.

“I would say you’re going to have to try a lot harder at being polite in front of C, but rumor has it he’s quite fond of you.” She teased you.

“Oh please, it’s all just politics.” You joked, “C has a thing for any woman in power, just like most of the 00’s. He infuriates me.”

You paired your comment with a roll of your eyes, pulling a proper laugh from your friend before you. He, honestly, was just as bad as the rest of them- cocky, immature, seeking attention, not afraid to pick a fight with you just to see you riled up. “Speaking of 00’s, 007 has been trying to reach you.”

“Great. I’ll be sure to get back to him,” You paused as if you were thinking of a time frame, “Never.”

“What ever happened to you two? You came back from that Goldfinger mission as the world’s best pair, and then one day-“

“We grew apart.” You said sharply and she pursed her lips, nodding her head a little.

“Well,” She made her to the door, “Keep your secrets then, 006.”

“That’s not my title anymore.” You reminded her, but still couldn’t help the smile that graced your face at the name. Moneypenny sent you a quick wink before stepping out of your door.

When the door clicked shut, you let out a breath that you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding. Shaking your head, you turned back to your computer to refocus yourself on your work. You still needed to iron out a few details for Harry’s first mission, black market technology dealers in Japan. You were proud of your pupil, but you couldn’t maintain your focus on this project; your mind kept wandering back to Tom.

Pulling up a new encrypted tab, you accessed Tom’s message from last night. Being MI6’s assistant director had its perks, and accessing confidential documents under the radar was one of them. You ran the images he sent through the facial recognition system and waited anxiously for it to come back. Once the scan was complete, you looked through the files for any possible connections, but there were none— these men all had records in Spain yet they weren’t connected at all. They didn’t serve at the same prisons or even at the same times; there were no visible connections. Only one man was unidentifiable, but, with his back to Tom’s camera, his face was completely obscured. He may have been the leader of it all or he may have just simply been another gun-for-hire type like the rest of them; none of it made sense to you.

Next, you pulled up the search engine for MI6’s complete database. Typing in L’Americain, you hoped that maybe there was something. There were so many possibilities, but none of them were connected to these men or Spain or Tom. It’s like every single piece of information in the message was a dead end, and nothing felt more discouraging than having no clue what to do past this point. You checked the clock and realized it was time for your meeting with M and C. You quickly closed out of the encrypted message, keeping it as secretive as possible.

“Good afternoon, Agent Y/L/N.” M greeted you as soon as you stepped into his office. He sat at his desk, and Max Denbigh, also known as C, was across from him, reclined in one of the two office chairs.

“Good afternoon.” You replied, taking your seat besides C.

“We have reached an agreement with Nine Eyes about the merge.” M began, wasting no time in discussing the significant matters. “MI6 will merge with Nine Eyes in one week, effectively making British intelligence a prominent member of global security.”

“And what of the 00? What about our agents currently in the field?” You asked, mind flickering back to Harry’s impending mission.

“00’s are a thing of the past.” C stated in a solemn tone, but you could see the ghost of a smirk on his lips. “The world is changing. We don’t need men in suits running amok when technological security is the real future.”

You raised an eyebrow at his words. “00’s are the backbone of MI6 and British intelligence, and they are not just men, or have you forgotten that I’m a 00 agent too?”

“I thought you were retired from field work.” He replied. Your shoulders tightened at the bitter reminder that had slipped your own mind. You refrained from physically shaking your head to wash those thoughts away. As much as you hated it, he was right; you’re not a 00 agent anymore, you’re ‘retired from field work’.

“When the merge occurs,” M continued, passing off C’s comment, “then the 00’s will be recalled from field work. Agent 003 will be the last official agent.”

Before you could speak up about your concerns again, a phone began to ring and C stood up from his chair. He smiled politely at the two of you, “I really should take this, and I believe we have filled in Agent Y/L/N on the merge, so I’ll be going now.” And, without another word, he exited the room. You watched his retreating figure, eyeing the oddly anxious hand that clutched his phone.

“Agent Y/L/N,” M called your attention back to him, and you turned back to face him. You watched as he ever so slowly clicked off the recording device on his desk, the one used to ensure all his meetings are documented, “Have you heard anything from Agent Q?”

“No, sir.” You replied without a second thought.

“He was on holiday in Spain, and I was alerted this morning that his tracker was turned off.” He spoke slowly, watching for any reaction from you.

You swallowed a thick lump in your throat. The high-tech tracker was perhaps the most important device Tom had ever made. If removed from the agent, its location could still be found, but, if turned off completely, the agent’s either gone rogue or- well, you didn’t want to think of that other option. Considering the message from last night, though, you feared the worst.

“Agent Q was the highest ranking agent, next to you and me, meaning no one else knows of this information. I also received this note today.” M slid over a manila folder, labeled “Top Secret” across the top.

Curiously, you opened it. There was a single piece of paper inside with a crude drawing of a kite. The paper simply read “Cuckoo”. You looked up at your superior, silently questioning what it meant.

“‘You’re a kite dancing in a hurricane’.” He said, “That’s what Oberhauser once told me.”

“Oberhauser? You mean-”

“The man behind S.P.E.C.T.R.E., the one that started it all. ‘Cuckoo’ is his calling card.” He paused, “I suspect Oberhauser- and therefore S.P.E.C.T.R.E.’s remains, are somehow connected to Agent Q’s disappearance.”

“But Oberhauser is dead, and Harrison and I stopped Goldfinger; we stopped S.P.E.C.T.R.E..” You stated in disbelief. Of all the possibilities of Tom’s disappearance, you never thought the notable and dead criminal organization would find its way back to you.

M shifted in his chair, nervously. “I’m afraid we can’t be certain of any of that now, but, if he has somehow returned, we must be prepared; Oberhauser would want a game. Q’s disappearance couldn’t have come at a more intense time with the Nine Eyes merge next week. I know you, Y/L/N, and I know Q has told you something about this, something that has made you itch since you’ve arrived here this morning. But you cannot go after him. I need you here with me. Trust is thin right now, and I can’t afford to lose any more agents. Do you understand?” There was a stiff seriousness in the air as he spoke. His cold eyes looking at you with a newfound intensity, as if he was studying you.

“I understand.” You nodded, biting your tongue as you did so. Slowly, you stood from the chair and made your way out of the room without another word.

As you made your way back into your office, you felt the weight of the situation begin to settle uneasily in you. You knew the delicateness of MI6’s current state, struggling for control with Nine Eyes while getting thrust into the wide spectrum of global cyber intelligence. And then there was Tom, your close friend and MI6’s technological genius, who was currently missing, and now you’ve been told to abandon any thought of rescuing him. It made your stomach twist in guilt, but M was right— Britain needed you here, not chasing L’Americain and other ghost trails for Tom.

That night, you stopped by your favorite takeout place on your way home, seeking some sort of comfort food. You were exhausted by the time you got home and were completely set on just helping yourself to some food and watching TV. You placed your takeout bag on the counter and unloaded its contents.

You reached for a clean plate from your drying rack and spotted a dark figure behind you through the reflection on the sink faucet. Maintaining your cool, you grabbed the plate and a knife and fork from the rack, setting the plate and fork down in front of you. You felt the floorboard bend behind you, and, with one hand clutching the knife, you grabbed the arm of the mystery figure with your free hand and twisted it. Turning, you swept your feet under his, and he fell flat on the ground. Straddling his torso, you threateningly pressed the blade of the knife to his neck before you realized who it was, which only made you tighten your grip on the knife.

“I see you still know how to show a man a good time.” Harrison stated, chuckling almost nervously.

“And would you look at that- I’m still on top.” You said as you let go of him and stood up from on top of him. You went back to dishing up your dinner, “What do you want?”

“You say that like I can’t just stop by and visit you.” He got up from the floor and rubbed his wrist a little, sore from you twisting it so aggressively before.

“Why did you break into my apartment and sneak up on me?” You rephrased your original question.

“It’s not breaking in if I still have a key. You really should change your locks.” Harrison came to stand by you at the counter while you avoided his eyes. Ready to make himself at home, he reached for a spare plate, one hand leaning on your kitchen towel. You stabbed your knife down onto the towel, right between his fingers, and he took that as your wordless threat to not touch your food. You grabbed your plate and sat down at your small dinner table, ready to eat your meal. Harrison’s eyes wandered around the room as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. His eyes landed on the steak knife in the dartboard on the wall.

“Got a thing for knives now?” He asked, pulling the knife off the dartboard. He set the knife in the sink, before looking at you curiously, “What’s gotten into you?”

“I’m not sanctioned to carry a gun, not as assistant director.” You said quietly. “Now, what the hell do you want?”

“Right. Anyway, it’s Tom.” Harrison leaned on the counter across from you, watching as you froze a little at the mention of your mutual friend. “He sent me an email last night-”

“L’Americain.” You stated, looking him in the eye for the first time since you so unceremoniously threw him on the ground. “I got the same message.”

Harrison seemed to light up hopefully at your words, “Good, so you can run some tests and figure out-”

“MI6 has no record of L’Americain. It’s not a place or a person or even a classified object. I have just as much intel on the matter as you.”

“And the men? In the photos?”

“They’ve all got criminal records in Spain, but, besides that, nothing. They don’t have connections to each other. L’Americain is a dead end for now.” You said, taking a bite of your dinner in hopes to end the conversation. It was silent for a moment, and you hoped that meant this was it, but then Harrison spoke up again.

“I’m going to Spain,” He paused, “and Harry’s coming with me.”

“Harry has his first mission across the world tomorrow. He cannot go to Spain.” You stated, and Harrison sighed, taking a seat beside you at your dinner table. You continued to eat your meal, doing your best to act unaffected by his close presence.

“He cares more about his brother than his mission. We need to find L’Americain and find Tom. Come with us, you know you want to.” Harrison encouraged.

“I can’t, and you shouldn’t either.”

“And why not? Tom’s my best friend—“ He began, and you cut him off.

“It’s dangerous.” You said, looking back at your food to avoid his striking eyes.

“Dangerous? Do you not remember what it’s like to be out there in the field?” Harrison questioned, standing up from his seat and walking around the table until he was in front of you, while you just simply continued on with your dinner.

“I remember. M needs me here with him. Trust is thin right now, and he can’t afford to lose any more agents.” You fed him the same lines your superior had told you.

“You’re really just going to do nothing? You’re not even going to try to go save our friend? Our friend, who's the reason that we’re alive today?” He stepped back from the table, eyeing you suspiciously. You just nodded in response before slowly lifting your head to look at him. The moment your eyes saw his blue ones staring intensely back at you, you realized your mistake. Harrison could tell- he could see right through the facade and knew exactly how vulnerable you were.

“I’m not going to Spain.” You repeated, not breaking the stare. You watched as his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. He let out a deep sigh before making his way to the door.

“Plane leaves at 1 tomorrow.” Harrison turned and gave you one final look before he left out the door, slamming it shut with more force than necessary.

You sunk back into your chair, shutting your eyes as you tried to steady your racing heart. You stayed like that for a few moments, until your mind felt at ease. When your eyes opened, they landed on the single postcard that was tacked to the wall in front of you, right beside the Italy themed calendar that had been left on an image of Venice from four months ago.

The Paris postcard seemed to glare at you as it read in golden, swirly letters “Thinking of you in the City of Love”. You didn’t even need to look at the back of it to know that a red 007 was signed on the other side.

Knowing what you needed to do, you let out a groan, “Damn you, Harrison.”

~~~

General Tag List: @viagracex @theamazingtomholland @Hellomoveonby @heyitsshrez @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart @joyleenl @t-o-m-holland @lonikje @sleepybesson @sunkisseddreamer @hollandsamor @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @gorillaglue23 @petersoftboyparker @musicalkeys

Harrison Tag List: @Calhtlland @tomkindholland @where-art-thau-romeo

Original Series Tag List: @quinjetboi @baby-haz @kickingn-ames @rougese7en @hollandsosterfield @nj01 @it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes @spencerreidxoxo @duskholland

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x you #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield series #harrison osterfield x y/n #harrison osterfield one shot

74 notes · View notes

7wanderingpaws · 6 years

Text

3. OCEAN'S DEPTH.

Genre: marine biologist AU

Pairing: Bambam x reader

Word count: 2.2K

0. Synopsis // 1. Whales // 2. Dolphins. // 3. Ocean's depth.

(( I apologise for the long wait, it was not planned at all. Uni is in full swing, I am in my final year so the thesis writing is giving me a little headache. I hope this part will still be somehow enjoyable! Please let me know your thoughts! ))

- - - OCEAN'S DEPTH - - -

You were tapping your foot against the warm pavement the next day in the docks. The weather was still shiny, pleasant and ever so welcoming.

You were supposed to have a good mood, considering all of these aspects.

You felt like a piece of a rotten tuna tin.

Exactly like rotten tuna tin, whatever it was supposed to mean.

"Where is he?!" you shouted angrily to your two colleagues who were looking bored and kept murmuring among each other, snickering quietly.

"Calm down," said Jaebeom and pressed the side button on his iPhone to check the time. He pushed it back into his back pocket of his jeans. "His late just 15 minutes."

Jackson laughed in disbelief. "Just 15 minutes."

You glued your strict stare at the cheerful man and he just shook his head, not bothering to talk to you more.

"Well, if he isn't coming in five more minutes, we are leaving."

"But boss, even if we leave in five minutes we will still be there 30 minutes early," replied Jaebeom in a diplomatic tone.

Jackson snickered again.

You sighed, combing your hand through your already messy hair. "Are you making fun of me? Do you think this is funny?"

"No, not at all, " replied Jaebeom, coughing away his giggle.

"Look, " you started, holding your hand out." You can think whatever you want to, but the fact is that we should be there a little bit earlier to make sure everything goes smoothly. As you can see, this duck head is late anyway. This is why we have to be there a little bit earlier."

"A little bit, " mumbled Jackson to himself.

Jaebeom started to laugh loudly, not bothering to hold back anymore.

As much as you liked to see your forever cold and reserved colleagues laugh, you did not appreciate it one bit at the moment.

" Shut up, Jackson, " you snapped. " You don't let me breathe even for a little while right? You always have to push me down."

He looked at your hurt face and before he could argue in any possible way, from the distance you hear rushed steps and a very tired looking Bambam. He was trying to adjust his bag on his shoulder as his hair was a big mess.

"I'm here! I'm coming! Oh, thanks for waiting for me!" he breathed as he finally arrived.

"Good." You turned around and marched forward towards the kindergarten that you hated so much at the moment. Youngjae was going to pay a big price for letting his mouth talk so much.

If Jackson were a dog, he would have his ears pressed to the sides of his head, his tail between his legs and lowered head. There wasn't a minute when you wouldn't fight these days despite how hard and cold you both were to each other.

He still wouldn't tell you what was pissing him off so much about you and you certainly didn't want to ask about that kind of thing. This way you were aware you were annoying him and that was more than enough.

You all made your way to the kindergarten and to your pleasure, you were quickly ushered in, the kids already waiting.

"Soon is never soon enough, Dr Im," you muttered to Jaebeom. Before he could retort something too sophisticated for you, you turned quickly to your team, mostly focusing your attention to your two colleagues rather than Bambam who was smiling the whole time as he was observing the kids' drawings. "Alright, we literally have like five minutes to discuss whose gonna talk about what-"

"Y/N," you heard your name. Youngjae's mum was standing next to you, her frame tall and her facial features kind. "I'm afraid you will have to go in now. The kids are waiting and they are restless."

"Yes but-"

"Alright, then there is no time to waste!" shouted Bambam, suddenly paying attention and soon he was entering the little hall kids had there for their performances.

Jackson snickered as he followed Jaebeom and BamBam. "So much for authority, huh."

A tiny growl escaped your lips, startling you. Damn. Now the game was on. You would ruin Jackson for sure.

The kids greeted you politely, most of them curiously looking at the blonde haired Bam.

While Jaebeom looked uncomfortable and seemed like dying inside from the attention, Jacskon was also naturally swayed with the kids as he was smiling brightly, waving at them.

"Everyone, let me introduce you these marine biologists," started Youngjae's mother, her voice a pleasant baritone. "Dr Y/N is The leader of the marine research institute here in Mokpo and Dr Jackson and Dr Jaebeom are her colleagues, great experts. Dr Bambam is a world famous marine biologist from Thailand so make sure to treat him with respect."

"Are we considered trash next to him?" muttered Jackson as he had his bright smile plastered on his face.

You bumped your elbow into his ribs quite hardly which made him wince with surprise. He widened his eyes at you, but you had a stern look already focused on the wall opposite you.

"Now I will let our biologists take over the talking and please participate actively!"

Youngjae's mum nodded at you with a supportive smile and you made sure to thank kindly before reaching for the microphone. "Hello, everyone! I'm Y/N and I would like to start with a question for all of you. Please raise your hands if you want to talk, alright?" you asked with a thumb up but when you didn't get any feedback you laughed awkwardly. "Alright! So, what do you understand under marine biology or marine research?"

You had a weird feeling these questions were not exactly meant for such a young audience as these four-year-olds who barely knew their mother's name but you were serious about doing your job professionally.

One little boy in the front row raised his hand shyly. "I think you work with dolphins."

You swayed your head from side to side. "Yes, could be also."

"That's totally true!" exclaimed Bambam. "And you know what? Let me tell you something that I'm sure you didn't know about whales." The way he was talking made kids much more interested compared to the poker faces they were giving you.

"The whales are these veeery big animals, right?" asked Bambam, motioning with his hands. "We also call them mammals.They can be much bigger than this whole kindergarten! And the important thing to know about them is that their poop is needed for the ocean's ecosystem."

You snapped your head to Bambam, not liking the direction he was going. On the other side Jaebeom and Jackson were also listening as intently as the kids.

"So how exactly does this work, hm? Well, when the whales poop it's really big and can create a big mess." Kids started to laugh, supported by Bambam. "Their poop contains lots of important microscopic creatures that are beneficial for other fish! For instance, phytoplankton is a crucial part of the ocean's ecosystem and some underwater animals live off of it."

"Eeeeeeeeew," kids whined but laughed loudly, scrunching up their noses.

BamBam laughed too, extremely pleased with himself. Jackson and Jaebeom had a light grin, also liking the playful way Bam introduces whale's poop.

"Another thing we have to watch out for are coral reefs," started Jackson his part. The k god it was an appropriate topic. "Do you know what are coral reefs right?"

There was a lady sitting by with a laptop who screened pictures on the big wall so the kids could see. She typed quickly into Naver search engine the keywords and all of you were met with colourful fish and massive corals. It made you smile right away and Jackson went up to the picture and tried to simplify the information about the coral reefs.

“They are extremely endagered. You know Nemo, right? Well, he also lives in these coral reefs. However, Nemo cannot cope with warm water. That is what causes these reefs to die out - warmed up temperatures.”

All of you continued with your presentations, trying to engage children as much as possible and at the end having a nice little quiz (with a rewarding present too!).

Jaebeom was breaking jokes about sea horses that you tried not to cringe about but thanks to Bambam, he supported every idea. It almost seemed like he knew only the silly stuff and not the important information.

After you were finished, you stopped Bam on your way out, so that Jackson and Jaebeom wouldn't hear you.

"Can we go diving today?" you spilled.

If Bambam was surprised, he didn't show it. Instead a signature smile spread across his face. "Well of course , boss. But I made a reservation at this five star restaurant you have in this little town so I will go there first."

You sighed, trying not to show your frustration. "Look. You shouldn't eat before diving especially not with the depth of our diving. Secondly, I thought you came here to help, not try all these so call five star restaurants."

BamBam laughed, tapping your shoulder. "should I cancel because of you, Y/N?"

"Exactly my idea," you smiled, walking past him.

He was quick to grab your hand though. "How will you refund me this loss?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"Well, you know how important I hold my luxury living. Since I'm going to sacrifice it for you, I hope it will be rewarding at least." His hand trailed over your arm, teasing you.

By now you knew better than to take his ideas seriously. "Well, heated kissing under the water, how does that sound."

Bam laughed tapping you shoulder. "Good enough, girl, good enough."

You couldn’t believe your own words. Your own mouth. Your own tongue. heated kissing under the water?! There was a sudden urge for you to slap yourself as you were heading to the docks to meet Bambam. How on earth could be this cheesy?

You knew Bam was not serious half of the time and even though he did tell you some good things about the marine biology and how to lead this entire expedition, there was just something slightly off. Whenever someone had a really professional question, he would suddenly go quiet, dissing the question with a simple answer that didn’t really add to your knowledge.

When you entered the docks with all your equipment, you were surprised to find him already there. He seemed deep in thought, his uniform already on.

You paused for moment, thinking what to do.

Set your goals straight...

There was no doubt you needed this guy for you to find the creature. He had all the knowledge. Apparently...

“How was it when you found out people know you?” you walked towards him, a challenging smile on your burned face. “And why would you talk about whale poop anyway.”

Bambam smirked as he turned towards you, his full attention now on you. “How else do you want to get the kids attention if not with something silly.”

“Good for you it was a true fact what you said,” you replied, putting on your swimming gear.

“I only say things that are true,” he murmured, eyeing you up.

A blush creeped up into your cheeks as you zipped up the uniform on your back. You both checked whether the equipment you had was prepared for the dive. “I sure hope so.”

“So the kissing part,” he started.

You held out your hand quickly. “Stop right there. I didn’t mean any of that.”

“And here I thought you liked me.”

“I do,” you said without thinking and immediately closed your mouth in pure shock. What did you just say?!

“You do?” he asked, his eyes full of hope.

You blinked a few times, hiding behind one of the oxygen bombs. “What? I mean I like the weather today.”

Bambam burst out into fit of laughters. “You are actually super cute, you know that? You play all this hardly approached girl but you are such a softie.”

“That is some good load of whale poop,” a doubtful laughter was the only thing you could let out. “Anyway, let’s go already. It’s gonna be super dark in a few.”

“Yes, that’s the point of night diving.”

As you walked passed him, you turned sharply, facing him. “Listen, Bambam. Whatever it is you are thinking, stop it. And just so you know, I have my eyes on you.”

He wiggled his eyebrows at you, obviously not taking you seriously but you just sighed and headed towards the little stairs leading into the water. It wasn’t until you reached the edge and you slipped on it that you felt his hands around your waist. You yelped feeling him pulling you backwards. It made him slip almost as well but he managed to keep a strong stance making sure you are steady.

You stayed like that for a few more seconds before your heart beat could simmer down to a normal rate. Slowly turning around, you saw Bambam’s gentle face. His eyes were already on you when you met his gaze. His hand reached out and slowly pushed your messy hair out of your face before his index finger slipped under your chin, sending goosebumps down your spine.

You didn’t realise you were holding your breath until his face was inching closer to yours.

Oh no.

What was he doing?!

18 notes · View notes

coin-river-blog · 5 years

Link

The document dump site calls out Craig Wright for forging documents. But maybe that's just more "fake news."

On February 8, Craig Wright, who purports to be Bitcoin inventor Satoshi Nakamoto, published an extensive (and thoroughly popcorn worthy) Medium post about what Bitcoin was – and wasn't – designed to do. In it, he says, "Bitcoin was never designed to help an anonymous money-transfer system, and I was always opposed to those seeking to operate outside the law." He continues:

"I do not like Wikileaks, and I have never been a fan of Assange's methods. More importantly, I am strongly opposed to criminal markets and bucket shops. Ross Ulbricht and others like him are criminals. They are not freedom fighters, they are not libertarians. They simply are predators, and they are all that Bitcoin was designed to make far more difficult."

Such actors, Wright says, are why he (i.e., Satoshi) left: "I needed to fix what I allowed." In a follow-up post titled "The Story of Bitcoin, Continued," Wright paints a vivid picture of his thought process during the years directly following the invention of Bitcoin, though one in which the timeline isn't always clear. He claims that he was working in 2011 to stop human trafficking and sexual slavery, and that Bitcoin was created to be "an immutable evidence trail" that could stop such evils.

At first glance, the posts constitute, if not a complete rewriting of cryptocurrency history, a creative reimagining of the genesis of Bitcoin.

The real Satoshi Nakamoto actually referenced WikiLeaks several times on the Bitcoin Forum. After WikiLeaks floated the idea of accepting bitcoin donations in 2010, early Bitcoin users discussed the possibility on a thread titled "Wikileaks contact info?"

At the time, WikiLeaks and its founder, Julian Assange, were public enemy number 1 for their role in publishing classified documents about US involvement in the Iraq War and War in Afghanistan. Considering this, on December 5, 2010, Satoshi wrote: "I make this appeal to WikiLeaks not to try to use Bitcoin. Bitcoin is a small beta community in its infancy. You would not stand to get more than pocket change, and the heat you would bring would likely destroy us at this stage."

On December 11, 2010, he added: "WikiLeaks has kicked the hornet's nest, and the swarm is headed towards us."

So, Wright's version of events can't necessarily be taken to contradict Satoshi's opinion of WikiLeaks or criminal activity, especially given the dearth of publicly available writings from Satoshi, who simply stopped posting anything past December 2010 (save a lone March 2014 post stating that he was not Dorian Nakamoto, the ).

But a corresponding tweet demonstrates that Wright is, in fact, attempting to rewrite history. As part of his bid to convince the world anew that he is (or "was" as he puts it at the end of his February 9 post) Satoshi Nakamoto, he tweeted screenshots of an apparent proposal called "Project BlackNet" that he says he filed with the Australian government in 2001.

The abstract uses some of the same language as the Bitcoin white paper. Proof? Not quite. As a reddit poster pointed out:

"[I]n this scam attempt he was not aware that Satoshi shared a draft of the Bitcoin whitepaper in august 2008. As we can see, there are plenty of corrections made in the final Bitcoin whitepaper compared to the draft. The fake 'Black Net' paper, which should've preceded the draft by a whopping 7 years, strangely also contains these same corrections."

Ironically, much of the legwork on collecting and analyzing those drafts was done by Gwern Branwen, who co-authored the now-infamous 2015 Wired article about Wright, "Bitcoin's Creator Satoshi Nakamoto Is Probably This Unknown Australian Genius."

Wright's tweet gave WikiLeaks ample opportunity to hit back against Wright. It did so today, February 12, by reminding people that this isn't the first time Wright's been caught up in a forgery dispute, posting:

It followed up with documentation from a GitHub repository called CultOfCraig dedicated, in part, to documenting his history of alleged forgery, which WikiLeaks claims to have independently verified. The document actually surfaced in February of last year. In it, Wright appears to have edited an August 2008 blog post to say he would "have a cryptocurrency paper out soon."

The Bitcoin white paper was released in October of that year, but even it did not use the term "cryptocurrency." Nor had Wei Dai, David Chaum, or Nick Szabo in their presentations of b-money, ecash, or bit gold, respectively. If it was a forgery, then, it was an anachronistic forgery.

Wright, however, remains undeterred, calling WikiLeaks "fake news." The website Media Bias/Fact Check (MBFC) disagrees. Instead, it finds, "[W]hile the material dumps are unaltered and not biased they have demonstrated a political agenda though the information they choose to dump, which some believe tends to favor Russia."

Elizabeth Lea Vos of Disobedient Media objects to the bent of that assessment, citing former British ambassador to Uzbekistan Craig Murray, who claims to have tried to leak official documents to WikiLeaks only to be refused "because they could not 100% verify them." (However, MBFC never questioned the veracity of the documents published by WikiLeaks.) Of Vos' site, MBFC says, "Overall, we rate Disobedient Media a strongly right biased conspiracy source, based on numerous examples of publishing information that is not conclusive or supported by evidence."

If that sounds like a digression, apologies. But distrust of media sources – and even the fact checkers that rate media sources – is part of what allows malevolent actors like Craig Wright to persist; get far enough down the rabbit hole and the truth becomes harder to make out. Now, Wright has gone so far as to suggest that WikiLeaks, which stands apart from traditional media structures by publishing directly, is fraudulent.

The finger-pointing and forgeries and cries of fake news, as fun as it all is, obscures Bitcoin's true beginnings and allows observers to reframe the narrative to fit their own leanings, just as Wright has done. There is an evidence trail of what actually happened, alright, but it's far from immutable.

Jeff Benson is Managing Editor of ETHNews. He's worked as a writer and editor everywhere from Sudan to Reno. He holds a bachelor's in politics from Willamette University and a master's in nationalism studies from University of Edinburgh. When he's not in the newsroom, he trots the globe and writes about it. He holds a bit of value in ETH.

ETHNews is committed to its Editorial Policy

Like what you read? Follow us on Twitter @ETHNews_ to receive the latest WikiLeaks, Craig Wright or other Ethereum cryptocurrencies and tokens news.

0 notes

wilwywaylan · 7 years

Note

the big pairing ask: feuilly/bahorel :D et en anglais, s'il te plait, pour que je le comprenne (MUHAHHAHHHA)

@marcellin-e : sorry it took me so long to do this ! Also…. I may have lost your ideas on Feuilly x Bahorel so I did as I could…. Sorrysorrysorry ! Contains dorks, the french school system, lots of dorkiness and leather.

Big steps in the relationship !

0. But, how did they meet ? They both work in the same french high school.

Feuilly is the deeply passionnate, nerdy history teacher. He’s very invested in his lessons, and tries to make history and geography as fascinating for his students as it is for him. He wears flannel shirts and leather boots, walks to school every day even when it’s snowing, and always has time to discuss with his students, about his lessons or every subject they want to talk about. As a history teacher, he’s in charge of civic education lessons too. Unlike several of his coworkers who think it’s a waste of time and use those hours to teach their main subjects, Feuilly is very invested in it. He thinks it’s very important for teens to learn as much as they can about civism, society and politics. His lesson plans are always very elaborate, and he tries to cover every societal issue they can meet. He’s of course a favourite of numerous students, and at least a quarter of his classes have a crush on him.

When meeting Bahorel for the first time, everything thinks he’s the mecanic teacher. Which, honestly, he could be, because he can fix a lot of things. But don’t let the leather jacket, chains and boots fool you. He’s a litterature teacher. He’s as passionate about it as Feuilly is about Poland (and the rest). He sometimes reads aloud in class and gets really invested. He comes to school on a wonderful Harley Davidson that he fixes with love, has a booming laugh you can hear across the hall, and is as gentle with the students impressed by his stature and personnality that he is with the stray cats he feeds. Almost all his students are scared of him at first, and their principal teacher announcing that he’s the litterature teacher at the start of the year is always welcomed by grunts and shivers. At the end of the year, they are all sad to leave his class.

Of course, they meet in the teacher lounge. They didn’t talk at first because, even if their classes have some common grounds, they didn’t really know each other, only exchanging remarks like “hello” or “those kids, right ?”, usual small talk. Bahorel always makes some coffee and pours a cup for Feuilly who always seems overworked. Then one day, as he’s talking with his good friend Grantaire the art teacher, Bahorel learns about a group called Les Amis de l’ABC, a group about social issues. Lured by the promise of protests and brawls, Bahorel decides to give it a try. When he enters the backroom of the coffee shop where the meetings are held, who’s there talking with a hot-looking blond person ? Feuilly himself. Bahorel decides to stay for a while. The group is interesting, the people there are nice, and there’s the promise of manifestations to make their work conditions better. And there’s Feuilly who’s as passionate here as he is about his work.

They start talking more and more. About the group, first, what happens during meetings and the new friends they made there (and Grantaire extra-obvious crush on the hot blond), and then about other subjects. They look forward to their conversations in the teacher lounge, until it’s not enough. They start meeting outside school, too, just to talk. Bahorel gets Feuilly started on boxing, and Feuilly lends him part of his endless book collection. They end up being good friends, but that’s what happens when you save someone from getting punched at a protest.

1. Who made the first move / who kissed who first ? Feuilly. You can’t be around so much muscular hotness as he is and NOT feel something. It happens one day, very out of the blue. They are all gathered at the Musain after a protest, resting a bit and talking in hushed voices. Bahorel is sitting at the table, a bottle in hand, very calm for once. Feuilly looks at him, then just bends over and kisses him. Courfeyrac is faster to react than Bahorel and has the time to wipe up his cellphone and take a picture before his friend even realizes what has just happened. There is a moment of silence while everyone processes the news. Then Bahorel almost knocks Feuilly from his chair in his haste to return the favor.

2. Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first ? Since Feuilly’s friends are more or less Bahorel’s friends, they tell all of the Amis at the same time, by kissing directly in front of them.Bahorel has other friends, scattered all through Paris. They all learn the same way, when he shows himself with lovebites and announces that they “should see the other guy”.As for family, Bahorel refrains himself to immediatly send a mail to his parents, tellking them aaaaaall about Feuilly and how awesome he is. For at least three days. Then he sends them an absolutly gushing one that he’ll forever deny writing.As for Montparnasse, Feuilly’s foster brother.... let’s just say it took time.

3. What do their family/friends think of their relationship ? Their friends had an ongoing bet to see when they were going to get together and who would make the first move. Bossuet totally won both. Now they are all very happy for them, except when the two decide to make out during the meeting (which luckily doesn’t happy often), or when everyone has to stay away from the supply closet due to… interesting noises coming from it.Montparnasse, who’s closest to Feuilly than any blood brother could be, is happy for him as long as he’s happy. He was wary of Bahorel first, not because he could hurt Feuilly (who’s strong enough to defend himself), but because Bahorel is loud, brash, gets himself in dangerous situations. Montparnasse tried to have the “if you hurt Feuilly” talk with him. It ended with Montparnasse’s nose bloodied with a punch that miraculously didn’t get a drop on his clothes, and Bahorel with a black eye. Now they are friends AND fashion pals, and respect the fuck out of each other.Bahorel’s parents are happy as long as their son is happy. They don’t really count on Feuilly to keep him in line, but after all, that’s not his job. Beside, he’s a nice, polite, hardworking young man, and they couldn’t hope to find someone better for their son.

4. Which couple/family are they closest to ? That’s like asking which one of their friends they love more ! It’s too difficult to choose ! They are very close to Enjolras and Grantaire because R is Bahorel’s boxing and drinking buddy, and Feuilly and Enjolras spend looots of time discussing all kinds of social issues. They are very close now to Jehan and Montparnasse, too, not only because they live close. Montparnasse is weirdly protective of Feuilly, and Jehan and Bahorel love to make shenanigans together, so they see each other often. But really, they are close to all their friends.

5. When do they move together ? Where and how ? Once the relationship is on the road, they move together fairly quickly. Bahorel’s flat dates from the 50s and the heating and plumbing are antique, and Feuilly lives in a tiny place that looks more like a closet than a home. So they decide to find something better, that they can afford with their combined salary. It takes some time, and a lot of disappointments, before they finally find the little lovenest they need. It’s not very new, with the brick walls and the wood panneling in the bedroom, and it’s in a part of the town that’s not too sure, but it’s comfortable, not too damp or cold or hot. And the situation is good, close to the high school and the Musain, and on top of a tattoo shop. Okay, there are weird people going in and out of that shop, strange people that look like a gang except the one all dressed to the nines in Armani (who’s in fact Feuilly’s foster brother so it’s alright), but they don’t care. It’s the nest they wanted, and they are stupidly in love with it.

6. Who proposes and how ? Bahorel. The gang is totally drunk after a fabulous party that lead them from Courfeyrac apartment, then to the park, covered in glitter, for other hijinks (see-saws CAN hold Bahorel’s weight, and Jehan can climb a rope tower in less than one minute), then to a small fast-food place to grab something to eat because it’s late and they are all hungry. They are sitting on the bench, Feuilly comfortably slumped against his boyfriend, when said boyfriend suddently grabs an onion ring and proposes. Feuilly snogs the living lights out of him for the best part of five minutes, under everyone’s cameras and cellphones. Come morning, and after taking care of their hangovers, Bahorel buys him a proper engagment ring since Feuilly ate the first one.

7. Where do they go on their honeymoon ? Probably Poland. Bahorel knows that Feuilly dreams of going back there one day. He went as an Erasmus student and fell in love with the country, and never got to go again because travelling is expensive, especially when you have a thirst for buying books and giving to charities equally. So for their honeymoon, Bahorel arranges for them to travel around Poland for two weeks. Feuilly is so happy he almost faints on the spot.

Let’s talk about sex~

8. Who has the biggest kink (and what is it) ? Feuilly. He loves it when Bahorel bites him during sex. And Bahorel loves doing it because it makes Feuilly writhe and moan way louder. Feuilly doesn’t even try to hide the marks on his neck and shoulders, but no one dares to comment on them.

9. Who initiates sex more often ? Both. They can barely keep their heands off each other at times, and no flat surface in their appartment has been safe from their enthusiastic lovemaking.

10. What kink/kinks turn(s) one (or both) of them off ? Bahorel is a man of many kinks, and he’s always ready to try new things, especially with Feuilly. Who’s very happy to try them witth him. Mostly, anything that’s consensual and not too dirty will get them going.

11. What’s the craziest place they’d have sex ?The Musain’s supply closet. It’s a tight fit, no pun intended, because of Bahorel’s… impressive size. But they made do. It was fun, but they almost got caught, and no, they refrain from doing it (except when, you know, Feuilly looks a bit ruffled juuust like that, or Bahorel’s tattoos are visible juuust a bit under his shirt…)

12. Who is more aggressive in bed and out of bed ? Bahorel. There’s something in Feuilly that makes him want to push him roughly on all the flat surfaces in their appartment, kiss him senseless, rip his clothes off and take him right there. Not that Feuilly complains. Or lays there and take it, the bite marks on Bahorel’s are proof of it.

13. How does the other person react when their partner wears something special (boots, lingerie, etc.) ? Feuilly smiles. Then tries to hide his smile. Then jokes to hide that he appreciates it A LOT. But Bahorel has already seen the smile, it’s too late. And besides, Feuilly likes that his partner knows that he enjoys his efforts. Bahorel just pounces.

14. Lights on or off ? They stay as they are when they start trying to rip their clothes off. Neither cares enough to stop and turn the lights on or off. Bahorel still have a slight preference for the lights on because it means he can look at Feuilly that way. And Feuilly has the most amazing golden eyes you’ve ever seen (yes, Bahorel is a sap).

Quirks and habits

15. What are their quirks while sleeping ? After several years spent backpacking across part of Europe, Feuilly has gotten used to sleep all curled up in a tight little ball, as to fit in the smallest places. Which is perfect because Bahorel just sprawls on the bed, taking up all the space. And he manages to hog the covers at the same time. The best way to sleep is to settle against or on him, to be caught in the blanket roll. Add to this Bahorel’s beloved stuffed dog that Feuilly likes to borrow and cuddle because it smells like Bahorel, and you have a perfect setting.

16. Who is the morning person/night person ? Feuilly is an extremly morning person. Like, he’s up before the sun even, taking time to correctly wake up with a cup of coffee (or five), read the newspapers, go over his lessons plans again, text Enjolras about the latest injustice / Eponine about stupid jokes / Combeferre, Jehan, Joly and Grantaire about nerd stuff. He leaves in advance to be sure to cover everything, from the state of his classroom to his schedule, and does he need to replace a sick coworker ? Compared to him, Bahorel is a lazy bear. He likes to take five more minutes in bed, then jumps in the shower, in his clothes, grab a bagel or croissant and jog / run to work. Feuilly is the first to crash on evenings. Of course, he doesn’t have any energy left, even with coffee, and needs a good night sleep to function correctly. Bahorel likes to stay up a bit longer, grading his papers while watching trash TV. When he goes to bed, he takes care of not waking the sleeping Feuilly and curls up around him. (And then, starfishes)

17. Who wakes the other one up with kisses ? Feuilly. He leaves first because of work, but always stops to kiss Bahorel hello. Sometimes, he wakes him up, sometimes Bahorel is already awake and waiting for his kiss. He always tries to keep Feuilly with him a little longer, and Feuilly escapes the dreaded bear hug with a laugh. On Feuilly’s (too rare) vacation days, the good morning kiss turns into a full make-out session and / or lazy morning sex.

18. Who is the romantic one (Valentine’s Day or other) ? Feuilly is always too busy to think about Valentine’s Day. Besides, his advice on that holiday is that it’s “capitalist crap” (an advice heartily shared by Enjolras) and if you need a day to allow yourself to tell your partner you love them, then you have bigger problems than finding the “perfect present”. Which makes things a bit awkward when he comes home on the first Valentine’s Day since Bahorel and he got together, to be met with a nice, home-cooked meal, Bahorel wearing an apron, and several books wrapped in newspapers (Bahorel’s gesture towards the environnment). He was embarrassed, of course, first because he couldn’t let himself be swept off his feet unless he was to feel like a hypocrit, and second because he didn’t plan anything for him. Bahorel quickly caught him in a bear hug and assured him that he just wanted to make Feuilly feel special and loved, and it was juuust a funny coincidence that it fell on Valentine’s Day. Feuilly absolutly isn’t fooled, but still lets himself be pampered. Now he tries to at least do a little something, like a complex origami or a nice painting, for that day when Bahorel decides to spoil him that always suspiciously falls on the same day each year.

19. Who would lead in ballroom dancing ? Do not let the muscles and the dudebro attitude fool you. Bahorel is a pro at ballroom dancing. That comes with a mother being an opera singer. And he’ll gladly grab Feuilly and drag him in a waltz around the living room, even if they’ll end up in a pile on the couch.

20. Who is the one to most likely pick the movie they watch ? It’s a tight match, really. Bahorel will forever defend Lady and the Tramp, and Feuilly is adamant on Aladdin. Most of the time, they settle it by playing Mario Kart (and then the get engrossed in the game and suddenly, it’s too late to watch a movie anymore).

21. Who is the one who would pay for dates ? Bahorel, because his parents give him a generous allowance to keep him out of trouble and weird jobs (it doesn’t work). Feuilly is not exactly broke, but he doesn’t have lots of money, certainly not enough to treat Bahorel as much as he’d like.

22. Who takes over the beauty/style department ? No one, because they have the same style : t-shirts, flannels, hoodies, jeans. Bahorel just insists that Feuilly sometimes wears his clothes, because they are way too big for him, and he loves how he looks in them.

23. What would they get each other for gifts ? For Feuilly, it’s easy : books, books, books. Novels, non-fiction, biographies, children books with those wonderful illustrations…. Everything works. Bahorel jokes that he’s not going to stop unless he has enough books to built a house with them. Or open his own public library. Feuilly thinks it’s a wonderful idea. And if not books, then art supplies. Lots and lots of art supplies, top-of-the-line. Feuilly loves art supplies.Feuilly buys Bahorel books too, because they both love books. He knows all the small bookshops in town, where he can find that rare, leather-bound, first edition novel that Bahorel would love. He buys him cookbooks too, because they both like to try new things, and baking supplies, so Bahorel can make all those delicious treats.

24. Who cusses more ? Both. Bahorel cusses a lot, casually, inserting “fucking” and “goddamn” in almost every sentence. Compared to him, Feuilly’s speech is a lot cleaner. But that’s because he swears in foreign languages, so no one understands.

25. Who remembers things ? And who forgets the birthdays and anniversaries (and has to be forgiven) ? Bahorel is the one who remembers everything : anniversaries, dates, rallies, all his friends’ names, hobbies and phone numbers. That man is a machine. On the other hand, Feuilly tries to remember as much as he can, but he already has so much going on in his life, he sadly forgets a lot of things. His remedy is to paste sticky-notes everywhere. They are even color coded. Bahorel keeps finding them in the strangest place (”seriously, Fee, did you really need to put that on my shirt ?” “I was sure to look there.”)26. Who is the bigger cuddler ? Don’t let Bahorel’s big hugs fool you. That man loves to hug everyone, lifting them in the process, and holding them for ten minutes if they let him. But Feuilly has a hidden cuddly side that only Bahorel gets to see. He’ll just sit beside him (or on him) and cling to him like a koala. Most of the time, since he’s always tired, he’ll fall asleep like that and has to be carried to bed.

27. Nicknames for each other ? “dumbass”, “idiot”, “dork”, “nerd”…. They are adorable. When Bahorel feels romantic, it’s “my dork” or “my nerd”. He’s also the only one using “bro” as a term of endearment. Feuilly personnaly likes “my sweet potato” better.

28. Who decorates the apartment ? Both. Bahorel has more knickknacks, picture frames, an expensive hi-fi chain, his boxing equipment… while Feuilly has his fan collection and about a gazillion books. Before coming to live in Bahorel’s flat, he was constantly torn about having to get rid of some of his books because of the lack of space. He abandonned a few of them at Jehan’s or Combeferre’s place, especially because they keep borrowing or lending them to each other. But when they moved, Bahorel pushed aside his own books to make space for them. They still cover almost every flat surface in their appartment.

29. Who initiates duets ? Bahorel loves to sing. Loud. Like, belt out musical numbers or Disney songs. And always tries to get Feuilly to join. It works only half of the time. But on evenings, he is the karaoke monster, and this time, he’s very adamant about Feuilly singing with him. And he won’t stop until he can get Feuilly to join.

30. What do they do to cheer each other up ? Bahorel pampers Feuilly like crazy as soon as he gets the occasion : warm baths, good food, foot massages…. He’ll use every technique in the book and more, to make his little redhead feel loved. The best way is still sugary treats, freshly baked, and presented with a hot chocolate or hidden in his lunch bag before he leaves for work. Feuilly too reaches the heart through the stomach, but he uses homemade dishes, carefully prepared. A good bowl of homemade soup can do wonders for Bahorel’s mood. He sometimes slides little origami animals in his book bag, or little messages. And of course, they send each other pics of funny things or things they know the other likes.

Daily life

31. Who is more tech-savvy ? Depends. Bahorel is the most savvy for everything mechanical. He can fix or built every machine under the sun. But Feuilly is the most savvy for everything about computers and the like.

32. Who drinks all of the coffee ? Feuilly. His coffee absorbtion is second only to Enjolras’, and it’s the only thing keeping him alive and together. He needs his morning coffee first thing in the morning, or he turns into a weird, sleepy-but-murderous beast.

33. Who does what chores ? They try to share equally, according to their workload. Since Feuilly always takes on study time, homework clubs and a few others, he often comes home later than Bahorel, who cooks or, when he can, orders food. They do the dishes together afterwards. When Feuilly cooks, during week-ends, he’s the one doing them, and Bahorel does the cleaning. Feuilly takes care of the laundry, because he’s very insistant on his shirts being just the right kind of soft, and Bahorel doesn’t always read labels before shoving everything in the machine. Bahorel then takes care of the grocery shopping, and takes his sweet time doing it.

34. Who kills the bugs ? Do you really want to be subjected to a two-hours rant by Combeferre on the bugs’ importance and why it’s a bad idea to kill them ? (Feuilly can do the part, but his rants tend to be shorter. And angrier. And with more threats of violence. Just don’t do it.)

35. Who makes the bed in the mornings ? No one. Feuilly gets up before Bahorel so he can’t make it, and he’s too tired when he comes home to care about it. Bahorel just doesn’t care.

36. Who starts getting into holidays way before they should ? Both. Bahorel is more open about it, busting out the sweaters, the hats, the cookies and the songs. Of course, Christmas is his favourite, but he does the same with the other holidays. Except that he doesn’t wear the holidays sweaters because he’s always too warm, and he throws them on Feuilly instead. Feuilly loves holidays too, now that he has people to celebrate them with, and always gets into the spirit very early on. He’s more lowkey than Bahorel, except for the holidays sweaters, that he wears with pride.

37. Who initiates the couple selfies ? Bahorel. He loves grabbing Feuilly and squishing him to take a selfie. No need for a special occasion. He just goes for it whenever he feels like it. He already did it before he and Feuilly were a couple, to Feuilly’s greatest surprise (and growl, and push). Now, he’s used to it, and always gives him his best goofy face.

38. Who always ends up with too much junk food after grocery shopping ? Don’t blame Feuilly. He loves corn chips and cream & onion-flavored ones. Besides, he needs to buy lots because no corn chim is safe when Bahorel is home from the gym and hungry.

39. Who asks to keep the abandoned kitten/puppy they find in the rain ? Bahorel can’t resist anything cute looking at him with big eyes. He jokes that that’s how Feuilly got him. Feuilly always punches him, but neither he can’t resist a poor, lost animal.

40. So how many pets, and who rememebers to feed them ? Bahorel has never lived in a house without a dog. So of course, when he got his own flat, he got the dog that goes with it. Everyone who sees him thinks he’s got a MANLY dog. Like, a German Shepherd, or a pack of huskies. Or a wolf. But no, he has a small corgi named Elizabeth, who follows him excitedly around the flat. She loves to sleep on Feuilly’s lap while he works or read too. Feuilly found four kittens in a box near the river. He was absolutly fuming when coming home, groaning about heartless people abandonning small kittens to their death. Bahorel distracted him by proposing to name them and finding them something to eat while they tried to find a no-kill shelter where they would find a family. Needless to say, they never needed to find another family. Honoré, Emile, Théophile and The Wild Beast have now become a fixture in their home, and they wouldn’t imagine a life without them (well, maybe they could imagine it without them climbing the curtains).

41. Who gets babied when they’re sick ? Bahorel can’t say he loves it when Feuilly is sick, because his tiny redhead is miserable, he’s awfully grumpy, and he still insists on going to work. Bahorel has to physically stick him in bed, and even then, there’s a good 50% chances that he’s going to try and get up again. But once he’s settled, Bahorel has lots of time to take care of him and baby him as much as he wants, without Feuilly running away because he’s late again.When he’s sick, Bahorel turns into a big baby. He lays in bed and alterns between complaining that he’s bored, and that he’s dying. Feuilly checks on him before, between and after work, brings him food and obstinatly refuses to bring him the TV too because he has to rest. Bahorel pouts, but he’s secretly happy to have Feuilly fuss over him (in his restrained way, of course).

42. Who brings breakfast to bed ? To bring breakfast to Feuilly, you need him in bed in the first time. He only gets served in bed when he’s sick. Sometimes, Bahorel will get a cup of coffee on the nightstand, but that’s only when Feuilly is not taken by his morning activities.

43. Who has sole posession of the T.V. remote ? As for movies, it’s a fierce battle, that can only be settled by a wrestling match on the couch. Or paper-rock-scissors.

44. Who comes home drunk at 3am ? Bahorel. Nevermind he has to go to work in the morning, he’s not going to pass a celebration, be it Grantaire’s first art gig, Courfeyrac’s succesful inspection, Combeferre wearing a new bowtie or Joly punching an idiot in the nose (never, ever insinuate that Musichetta is less than perfect). He’s going to celebrate, and celebrate with dignity. Meaning he’ll get totally shitfaced. But whatever his alcohol content is, he’ll always tiptoe around the flat and slide himself into the bed veeery slowly as not to wake Feuilly. Who’ll always open an eye and grumble that the bed is cold.

45. What do they do when they’re away from each other ? Complain Bahorel does his usual tour of the gyms, the Musain, the other coffee shops, sees his friends, punches a few idiots, the usual. He keeps himself busy so he doesn’t feel lonely, and often invites himself to spend the night at one of the others’ place. More often than not, Grantaire offers him his couch and a sympathetic ear, and they watch awful movies and drink until dawn (except when they have early classes).When Bahorel is away, Feuilly sticks to his usual schedule of work, friends and failing to get to bed early because he got caught in a very good book or a philosophical discussion. He just hugs Bahorel’s plush dog tighter when sleeping.And of course, they both send each other messages / call / skype each other as much as they can.

46. What are they afraid of ? Bahorel isn’t afraid of anything ! He’s wild, he’s audacious ! And he certainly doesn’t try to hide behind a pillow each time he watches a movie with possessed little girls. Feuilly is scared to be left alone. Spending time in several orphanages, waiting to be adopted, gave him some abandonment issues, and he’s often kinda sure that he’s going to be overlooked in favor of someone younger, cuter or more affectionnate. He’s working on it, and tries not to be too clingy, but he sometimes still lays awake at night, sure that Bahorel is going to leave him for someone better.

47. How often do they fight ? More often than they’d like, but way less often than before. They may love each other a lot, they still are very different people with very different experience. Bahorel may forget that he was more privilegied than Feuilly, or Feuilly be too vehement, especially when he’s overtred, and their arguments may devolve into shouting matchs. They try to talk it out now, to step back and calm down before saying things they would regret, and they do their best to avoid going to bed angry. Sometimes, too, especially when they started living together, Bahorel would forget that Feuilly needed his sleep, and would make way too much noise. After Feuilly ended up almost puncheing him, he vowed to remember to be careful and discreet when he knows that his favourite redhead needs sleep.

48. What would they do if the other one was hurt ? The skies take pity on those who dared to hurt Feuilly. If they escape him, they will have to answer for it before Bahorel. And Bahorel will probably beat them to a pulp. Feuilly would not run after the culprits because revenge wouldn’t help anything (but he would totally punch them a bit if he can). He would spend time at Bahorel’s bedside, trying to hide his worry as not to attract attention away from him. And cuddle him to death once everything is fine again.

And once they have kids…

49. How many kids ? Probably several. Feuilly wants to give all those kids in foster care a taste of a real family. He and Bahorel take inside several pre-teens and teens, because they know those kids are often overlooked because they are “less cute” than younger children. It’s not easy at first, those kids are often scared, angry, and wild. But they have time, and they are patient enough to make it work. Their family is weird and mismatched, and they love it like that.

50. Who is the stricter parent ? Feuilly. There’s no need trying to get away with not doing your homework, because he’s adamant about them being done. Education is very important if you want to go far in life ! He’s as strict for the rest : chores, politness, …. Nothing gets past him. Bahorel tends to be more lenient because life needs to be fun, and chores are no fun ! But since he knows that it’s better for the kids to get the same instructions from both parents, he follows this timeless advice : What Would Feuilly Do ? It works.

51. Who stays up late helping with homework ? Feuilly wants to stay up late to help, but it’s already 10 PM and he has to get up at ugh o’clock for his morning classes. So Bahorel often picks him up and carries him to bed, groaning and arguing, to the greatest delight of the kids. Then he’s the one sitting with the kids to help. Feuilly can’t help but get out of bed to correct him (”no, Bahorel, you can’t tell the kids monarchy is “fucking bullshit”, they will repeat it at school and then you’ll have to meet their teacher again.”)

52. Who likes to take the family out and for what ? Feuilly is partial to educative-but-fun outings. Museums are his go-to, but he loves gardens, art exhibitions, movies, days at the library…. He takes great care of choosing age-appropriate things, so everyone has fun. Bahorel likes outside activities more, like walks, football matches and such, but he likes taking them to the spa, hairdresser and on shopping trips too. They are both often reminded that no, protests and such don’t make good outings for the children.

#marcellin-e #les miserables #feuilly #bahorel #the bromos #long ask #long long ask #like there're 52 questions here #and lots of dorkness #but I'm happy with myself

28 notes · View notes