I recently got an on-campus job. During the interview process, I requested that I not be scheduled on Friday nights or Saturdays as I am a Jewish student.
My boss immeadiately brightened and rushed to explain - "Of course ! Of course! We want to accomodate you! We have another worker who takes off for Ramadan. Do you need to take off for Ramadan?"
I shook my head, incredibly confused. "Uh. That's. Not my jurisdiction. I'm good."
Boss nodded but was sure to add "Let me know if that ever changes. We can help you with Ramadan."
#what's the bet Ahmed was just asking for certain shifts during Ramadan and Boss got excited and was like âjust take the whole ramadan off!â#âdon't even worry about it! we support you! take the time you need!â
I'm scheduled to work with him tomorrow morning so will find out then 𫡠.We're both STEM majors who use the early empty hours to study so I will report if I get more than a grunt out of him about it.
another stupid-early morning, and between our respective course loads- him organic chemistry and me pathophysiology- I asked for the full story in how he got all of Ramadan off.
He sighed, and let me know that he did indeed try to explain to our manager that all he needed was to get shifts not around sunrise or sunset. But that in him explaining what Ramadan was, the plot very quickly got lost into this unhinged confusion where our boss was trying to google how people could survive an entire month without food or water.
So halfway through, he decided to pivot and go along with it, expecting less shifts in March because that's a difficult academic time anyway. Then, he had to keep a straight face when the end-product was the entire time off with paid leave.
So, now, he's in a hell partially of his own making where his boss genuinely believes he doesn't eat for a month and is trying to offer all non-Christian workers March off.
I offered him time off for Hanukkah. He hit his head against the desk, and groaned.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Noah always knew that Alejandro would come back into his life...
~~
"The first thing Alejandro said to him was a thinly veiled insult, to which he responded with snark, and Alejandroâs eyes sparked at him. Noah felt as if he could never fall from that high, of making Alejandro laugh.
Until he was falling out of an aeroplane. "
~~
Rating: General Audiences
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Total Drama (Cartoon)
Relationship: Alejandro Burromuerto/Noah
~~
No one's ever had me (had me), not like you
Noah planned to never wake up on a plane again.
No, scratch that. Noah planned to never BE on a plane again.
After the clusterfuck that was Total Drama: World Tour, he didnât think anyone would blame him. In one day, Noah got: manipulated by an eel, almost lost his best friend to a starved, half-animalistic Ezekiel, then thrown out of a moving aeroplane with a parachute that barely worked. (Thanks Chris).
Surprisingly, Noah had a lot of time to think while free falling over London. Although it was really only sixty seconds, as the parachute didnât deploy until Noah was almost as dead as the late King Henry VIII, which Noah knew all about from Sierra. Apparently, she was quite the musical theater nerd. Apparently, after Henry died his body blew up in the casket due to his ⌠er, size. Cody had vomited after Sierra said that little fact, and she spent the next hour and a half curled into a ball, wailing that she âhurt Cody Bearâs tummy-wummy.â Thankfully, Heather hit her with a pillow. He didnât think he would ever thank Heather again.
However, while free falling and struggling with his parachute, Noah thought. He thought about his sudden and apparent death, because he was pretty sure he was gonna die, as well as about eels. Specifically, about one manipulating eel.
Noah was pretty sure he was right about Alejandro. He was normally right about people. He could tell Heather was a conniving bitch, that Gwen liked Courtney, that Sierra was insane. Alejandro, though, took a bit longer to figure out, because Alejandro was a lot of things.
For one, he was ridiculously handsome. Like, hotter than Justin, even though Owen said otherwise. Which wasnât fair to begin with, because for about a day even looking in Alejandroâs general direction made Noahâs brain short circuit.
The accent also does not help matters. The accent does not help matters at all. Oh God, the first time Alejandro opened his mouth, Noah died inside. The first thing Alejandro said to him was a thinly veiled insult, to which he responded with snark, and Alejandroâs eyes sparked at him. Noah felt as if he could never fall from that high, of making Alejandro laugh.
Until he was falling out of an aeroplane.
But the main issue was that Alejandro was not just hot. He wasnât like Justin was: simply effortlessly attractive but with the brain the size of a peanut. Alejandro was also intelligent, manipulative, and charming. He seemed absolutely perfect, until you turned your back on him and he stabbed you in it.
And yet, Noah couldnât write him off as the villain of Total Drama: World Tour like so many of his friends did. Because Alejandro showed another side of himself to Noah, one that the cameras didnât pick up. Sometimes, late at night, after the elimination ceremony finished and they all filed back into economy class, Alejandro would sit besides Noah and just. Talk. Alejandro would talk to Noah, well, whispering as to not wake the other contestants, about random things. Mostly about the past dayâs challenge, but sometimes about himself. During these talks, Noah would pretend to be asleep. That was their arrangement, so to speak. Noah would let Alejandro talk to him, but pretend he wasnât listening, and in return Alejandro would help Noah in challenges, but only a little, and only at the beginning. Eventually, Noah looked forward to these talks, it was almost like the confessional. And Noah was allowed to sleep-cuddle all he wanted. While he obviously didnât want to cuddle Alejandro, it was simply convenient. It was weird, but it worked for them.
Until Noah decided to not trust Alejandro, trash-talked him to Owen, then got thrown out of the plane for it.
~~
After getting booted, (he did, in fact, not die, no thanks to Chris), Noah tried to ignore Total Drama. Of course he watched the finale; Owen got all the old cast over to his place to watch it. Alejandro and Heather were, obviously, not present, and Noah didnât think about Alejandro after he fell into the volcano.
Actually, thatâs a lie. Noah thought about Alejandro a lot. After Alejandro fell into the volcano and Heather won, Alejandro didnât appear on any of the Aftermath shows. Noah didnât notice, obviously, because he definitely wasnât nervous. Or worried. Or cared at all.
Although Noah did feel cheated out of a million dollars, after a while, he cared less about Alejandroâs cruel actions, especially when Noah thought about it more. Alejandro had said to him, one night when Noah had fallen asleep on him, (he did that a lot more than shown on the show), that Alejandro felt that Noah was the only person who saw him as more than a conniving snake. Then Noah turned around and called him an eel behind his back. He had betrayed Alejandro just as Alejandro betrayed Leshawna and Bridget, and then himself. Noah thought that he saw anger in Alejandroâs eyes in London, as he was being eliminated, Alejandroâs smirk just solidified that feeling.
But, secretly, Noah rewatched his final episode. Alejandroâs smirk didnât only show satisfaction. His eyes didnât match. Alejandroâs good at hiding his true emotions, but after being his almost- friend for weeks, Noah started to be able to see through that mask, and it cracked when Noah was eliminated.
Noah didnât know how to feel about that. He tried not to think about it.
He thought about it constantly.
~~
Noah was falling out of another aeroplane. He figured it was typical for him. The first time he got on an aeroplane since World Tour and the plane went down. It couldâve also been because it was Chris McLeanâs plane. Chris had called Noah up a couple of months ago and offered him another assistant job, and Noah was just drunk enough to take it. Sue him, it was Evaâs birthday and he was stripped of cash.
So Noah found himself in another plane, this one much nicer than the beater they flew for the show. It was nice. Like real nice. Private. As far as planes Noah could find himself on, it wasnât a bad choice.
Noah was enjoying the private array of tiny hand sandwiches, trying each one, just as Owen would, when the plane careened off its axis, and Noah was slammed into the sandwich table. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich fell onto his head. A serving plate fell onto his foot, which was just brilliant.
Chrisâ voice blared over the loudspeaker system. âAttention potential funeral subjects! Weâre having some slight turbulence, so please try not to die. Head to the back of the plane to jump to your demise!â
Slight, Noah thought. Yeah right.
Thankfully, the floor finished dropping beneath him, and Noah pulled himself up using the sandwich table. Many of the little hand sandwiches had splattered on the floor. What a shame. They were pretty good.
Grabbing his bag (mostly full of books), Noah made his way to the back of the plane, where Chef was passing out parachutes to the rest of the crew. Some people looked like they were about to throw up, one had passed out in the corner. They must be new.
Heading over to Chef, he grabbed a parachute for himself before passing the rest around the cabin. Chef looked surprised to see him, and tried to say something to him, but the back of the plane opened and the cabin got way too loud to hear anything.
So Noah jumped out of an aeroplane. Again.
As he was falling, Noah began to think. He found that he did that a lot when he was falling out of aeroplanes. Not that Noah had fallen out of a lot of aeroplanes; he wasnât a skydiver. He just found himself falling out of them more than the average person.
Looking down, which Noah learned quickly the first time he jumped out of the Total Drama Jumbo Jet that one shouldnât do, he realised that they were parachuting to Camp Wawanakwa. He found it was kind of peaceful from above. A poor intern fell screaming past Noah, right into the lake, and probably died, but it was still kind of peaceful. Especially because Noah wasnât competing this time.
After watching that intern probably die, Noah decided to pull the parachute open and enjoy the ride down, as much as one can enjoy falling out of an aeroplane.
A little panlix fanfic for you all. My own work from archive of our own. Also written out below the cut!!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
I'll shut down the city lights
I'll lie, cheat, I'll beg and bribe
To make you well, to make you well
- Gone, Gone, Gone, Phillip Phillips
~~
âPirates on the beach! Pirates on the beach!!!â A boy, no more than ten or eleven, not that age really mattered in Neverland, ran past the group of boys sitting by the firepit. Swiftfoot, he was called, was good at two things. Running, and yelling.
âGuys! Did you hear? Pirates on the beach!â Swiftfoot said to the group, who all turned to its obvious leader, a boy, almost a man, of sixteen or seventeen, leaning against a large tree trunk, face partly obscured by a large hooded cape, so all you could see was the grin that overtook the bottom half of his face.
âWe heard you, Swiftfoot,â the boy said, leaning down and grabbing a large barbed club that he kept by his feet. At this motion, the other boys began to whoop and holler, grabbing onto makeshift weapons scattered about, running off towards the beach.
âShould I tell Pan?â
âPan knows.â The boy, Felix, said slowly. âKeep running.â
When Felix gave an order, you followed it, so Swiftfoot ran away, screaming about pirates. Felix grinned again, and headed for the beach. He didnât run like the other boys, but instead strolled, like he was enjoying a long walk in the evenings. He knew that the other boys, Slightly and Curly and the others, could hold their own until he got there.
Even though he didnât race there, Felix got to the beach in a couple of minutes, whistling all the while. On the beach, a battle raged. Lost Boys were in the trees, shooting arrows into the fray below, and every pirate had at least six or seven Lost Boys trying to stab them with makeshift daggers.
âStop!â Felixâs voice boomed over the crowd, and everyone stopped and turned to stare at the older Lost Boy. There was a rumour among the Lost Boys that Felix had magic just like Pan, magic to control people, but it wasnât true. That, however, didnât stop Pan and Felix from playing it up. It helped that his second-in-command was seen as powerful, maybe even as powerful as Pan.
âWhy are you here?â Felix asked, turning to the closest pirate and holding his club in the pirateâs face.
âThat little one stole our coats. Weâre just here for them back,â the pirate responded, and Felix noticed none of the pirates were wearing coats. He turned to look at who the pirate was pointing at, noticing it was one of the younger boys.
Turning to the younger boy, Felix didn't say anything, simply lifted his eyebrows, and the younger boy began to vomit out an explanation.
âWe didnât mean anything by it!â
âYeah, Felix, we just wanted to play dress up!â another boy added from behind him.
Turning back to the pirate, Felix shrugged. âI guess they took your coats. Better get ya some new ones.â Turning back around to the Lost Boys, Felix raised his hand and shooed them away, and the Lost Boys went scrambling back into the forest where they came from.
Felix himself began to leave the beach when he heard a curse come from the pirate. âYe littleâŚâ and a shtick!, then a sharp, burning pain across his upper back. Felix screamed and fell onto the sand and felt along his shoulder until he touched something wet. Bringing his hand up to his face, he noticed that his fingers were covered in blood. Turning over onto his side, he looked up at the pirate, sword in hand, the metal glistening with fresh blood. A boot came up to his chest, forcing him onto his back, Felix whincing at the sand getting into the wound.
âListen here ye little prick,â the pirate began, putting his sword into Felixâs throat. Felixâs eyes widened, and he swallowed against the pressure of the blade. âYe and yer merry band of misfits have been feckinâ with us long enough. We wanna talk to Pan. Get him here.â
Even in pain, Felix couldnât help but grin. âPan doesnât come when you call him.â
That comment got Felix another cut, this time from his shoulder to his sternum.
âWe know who ye are, Felix,â the pirate said. âPan comes for ye.â
âHe wonât come just because I ask him to, heâll know I donât mean it,â Felix fired back, trying to keep his breathing calm. He didnât want the pirates to know how much the pain was affecting him.
The head pirate looked towards the others, then back at Felix, still lying in the sand. âThen weâll just have to make him wanna come, wonât we?â the pirate said, grinning down at Felix. Felix swallowed, but otherwise didnât respond. Not until the pirate reached into his waistband, pulling out something with an odd shape, nothing like Felix ever saw. The object made a sound, then was aimed at his head.
âDoes Pan want ye shot, Felix?â the pirate asked him, keeping the object level.
Shot? Felix didnât recognise that word, maybe there was an archer in the woods? Felix could handle an arrow.
âPan doesnât care about me,â Felix said, but he heard his voice wavering. Saying that out loud, that Pan didnât care for him, hurt.
âMaybe he would care if ye were dead,â the pirate said, kneeling down over Felixâs body and pressing the opening of the object on Felixâs forehead. âMaybe I take me hand here, and pull this we trigger here, kill ye dead. Would he care then?â
The pirate placed his pointer finger underneath the object, the gun, Felix realised, and Felixâs eyes widened with the realisation. Felix had heard of guns, but never saw one this small, one that didnât need to be prepped with gunpowder first.
Felix closed his eyes so he didnât have to see what would happen next, but a pirate behind the head pirate pulled him off him.
âGerry, ye donât wanna be doinâ that. Hook said not to harm the kid, just rough him up a little!â
âLeave me alone, Shane. I didnae care what Hook said then, and I donât care now,â the head pirate said, throwing the other off himself. Turning back to Felix, the gun came back out, and all Felix felt was pain in his right shoulder, he didnât even have time to react. He fell against the sand, crying out as the pain continued to radiate from his shoulder spreading down his body. He felt the warm trickle of blood quickly begin to fall onto the sand, his cloak doing nothing to protect him.
Felix tried to sit up, but realised quickly that his right arm wouldnât move. A large red puddle was slowly soaking into the sand beneath him, and Felix tried not to gag, but failed. Blood was never his strong suit, and Felix threw up into the sand. He was suddenly pushed from behind, and a foot stepped onto his shoulder, shooting pain up and down his body, making Felix cry out. Tears streamed down his face, and he couldnât keep from screaming when a sword pressed itself through his cloak, pinning his left shoulder to the ground.
âSo, Felix, is Pan coming, or should we kill ye, stop wasting our time,â the pirate said into Felixâs right ear, kneeling down to do so.
âPanâs here,â Felix choked out, feeling the electricity in the air before the pirates did, and the head pirate, before he had a chance to react to Felixâs words, was thrown against a nearby tree. The other pirates ran for the shore, but Felix continued to lie in the sand, and didnât see Pan appear suddenly in the sky, face contorted into anger and hands raised. Pan took his hands, mimicking snapping someone's neck, and the head pirate fell from the tree, neck bent at an unnatural angle. The other pirates raced towards their boats, fleeing the shore. They got far enough for Pan to sink their boats, one at a time, with a snap of his fingers, pulling the pirates down toward the ocean floor with weights on their feet.
As he sank the other boats, Pan came down from the sky, racing to Felixâs side. Grimacing at the sight of the blood, he placed a hand on Felixâs back, the other coming up to test his heartbeat against his neck. Feeling a pulse, Pan, trying not to move Felix too much, turned him over. Felix had since passed out due to the pain, so Pan gingerly brought him into his chest, picking up Felix and disappearing.
~~
Reappearing in the Lost Boy camp, it was already chaos. Pan yelled to the nearest Lost Boy to get the bucket filled with water from the enchanted spring, carefully placing Felix onto a bed of feathers and blankets that appeared below his second-in-command. A Lost Boy brought the bucket over to Pan, and hastily stepped back. Pan looked like any sudden move would result in another death.
Pan quickly lifted some water out of the bucket, placing his hands over Felixâs chest. Magic began seeping out of where Pan had his hands, tendrils of golden light coming off Felixâs body, racing into the sky. The entire camp quieted, no one dared to move, all focused on Pan and Felix in the center of camp.
No one realised Pan was crying.
âCome on, come on!â Pan whispered under his breath, sweating with the amount of magic he was using. The hair at the nape of his neck got damp.
After what felt like an eternity, the magic faded from the sky, focusing on Felixâs injuries, casually jumping from body part to body part, leaving a trail of gold in their wake. When the magic had touched every part of Felix, it went back into Felixâs body, and the boys began to stop glowing with magic.
When all tendrils of magic faded back into Pan, he slumped over Felixâs body, placing his head against his hands.
No one heard the prayer he muttered into his hands, begging for Felix to wake up, to be alright, praying to whatever was out there to have him recover. After a moment, Pan stood up from Felixâs body, still staring down at Felixâs face.
âCurly, Slightly, make sure the pirates are dead, will you?â Pan motioned to the boys, who hastily ran to the beach. âSwiftfoot, send a message to Hook. Tell him that if this was his order, heâs dead.â
âYes, Pan,â Swiftfoot said, beginning to run.
Slowly, Pan kneeled back down next to Felix. Looking up at the Lost Boys in a circle around them, he placed his hand on top of Felixâs. âNo one touches him, no one moves him, no one looks at him without my order. Understood?â Pan asked the audience, who quickly nodded their approval, looking away from the boys.
Pan looked back at Felix, holding his hand in two of his own. âAnd you, you listen here. You will wake up soon.â With that, Pan sat next to Felix on the forest floor, keeping Felixâs hand in his own.
~~
It couldâve been hours, it couldâve been days later, but Felix woke up near dawn. Slowly sitting up from his prone position, he looked around, noticing first the Lost Boys sleeping by the fire, secondly Pan, sleeping next to him on the dirt, face stained with tear tracks, Felixâs hand in his own.
âPan,â Felix whispered, but Pan didnât stir. âPeter?â Felix asked next, and the boy next to him groaned, then opened his eyes a fraction, wider when he saw Felix sitting up.
âFelix,â Pan said, sitting up himself, letting go of Felixâs hand, but Felix held on, so Pan relented. âHow do you feel?â
âLike I died,â Felix responded, leaning against Pan to keep himself up. âDid I?â
âYes,â Pan said, leaning closer to Felix, keeping his hand between his own. âYou were sleeping for days, Felix. Do you think you can get up?â
âIâm not sure, my legs are asleep.â
âDonât try, then. I donât want you to wake the others.â
Felix went to lie back down, and pulled Pan so he was lying next to him. Pan placed his head against Felixâs shoulder slowly, ready for Felix to push him off, but he never did. Felix took his hand out of Panâs, bringing his arm up and around Panâs shoulders, bringing the boy closer to himself. Pan snuggled into Felixâs body, keeping his breathing even. Felix pushed his nose into Panâs curls.
âPeter?â Felix asked.
âYes, Felix?â
âThe pirates?â
âDead.â
âOh. How?â
âI killed them all.â
Felix didnât respond to that, he didnât have to. After a while, Pan spoke again.
âIâm sorry I didnât come to you sooner. I got caught up with the Shadow and -â Pan trailed off, burrowing his head closer to Felixâs neck.
âYouâre apologising?â
âOnly to you. Only ever to you, Felix.â
Felix didnât respond, and quickly fell back asleep, face pressed against Panâs hair.
~~
Felix recovered quickly, and after only a few days he was back in the camp, doing his part. Pan wouldnât let him go on any missions, much to Felixâs dismay.
After a long day, Felix sat against the tree by the campfire, watching the other Lost boys dancing around. Pan was playing his flute after almost a week of not doing it. The Lost Boys continued to dance, but Pan stopped playing, music continuing. Felix was used to the common displays of magic, and Pan came to stand in front of him.
Felix.â
âPan,â Felix responded, feeling Pan move to sit next to him against the tree.
After a while, Pan spoke. âYou called me âPeterâ earlier,â Pan said, leaning against Felixâs body, sighing against him.
âIâm aware, I apologise, Pan. It wonât happen again.â Felixâs body tensed against Pan, but he didnât move away.
âNO! No, Felix. Only you,â Pan mumbled, leaning his head against Felixâs shoulder.
âOnly me?â Felix asked, looking down at Pan against him.
âYes, Felix,â Pan sighed again. âDonât make me spell it out for you.â
âI donât understand, Pan.â
âPeter.â
âPeter?â
âExactly,â Pan, no, Peter said. âOnly you can call me âPeter.ââ
Felix took his arm and put it around Peterâs shoulders. âYou donât mind?â
âI like it,â he said, snuggling into Felixâs body more, pulling Felixâs cloak around himself.
âYou like it?â
âAre you going to keep repeating what I say in the form of a question?â Peter asked, sitting up and looking at Felix. With Felixâs arm still around himself, Peter realised their faces were very close, and he couldnât help looking down quickly at Felixâs lips, which were parted. Looking back up at Felixâs eyes, he noticed Felix doing the same to him.
âDo I have to make the first move?â Peter asked, taking his hands and placing one behind Felixâs head, sneaking into the hood of his cloak, the other against his other shoulder.
âNo,â Felix said, and kissed him.
Sighing into the kiss, Peter pulled Felix closer to himself, reaching both hands into Felixâs hair. Felix took his other hand and placed it against Peterâs cheek. Both boys turned their heads, deepening the kiss, breaths tangling. Some of the boys dancing noticed them, but didnât draw attention to it.
Free-day (Out of order and late) Alenoah as Sherlock/Moriarty.
I like it when two characters play mind games and scheming against or with each other.
I didn`t plan to create an AU, but â my rant and bits of literature/character analysis (The Vision). Also, draw concept sketch.
Noah (Detective Sherlock Holmes). I mean, they're both geniuses, introverts who don't care about social opinion and some versions depicted him as being good with dogs. In Victorian England, I totally see Noah opening a detective agency, because you either go working on a plant or you might use your geniusesâ intelligence to solve crimes, like game puzzles, and make monies to pay bills and buy new books because in 1800 many books were expensive and produced in small quantities.
Plus! I might look at this too far, but I think the Sherlock and Watson analogy was implemented in London episode when they strip team Chris just to Noah and Owen for investigation.
Owen (Dr. Watson). Basically in the original books, Watson plays the role of the guy, your typical visual novel MC, well narrator, who has character, but his whole purpose is just to be a witness to detectives doing, asking questions for the audience. This leads to usually representing Watson as either annoyed with Sherlock's antics or (usually in kids' media) naĂŻve but with good intentions because of this simplification, to show his kindhearted nature in cartoons and caricatures he is portrayed as chubby, which is what we need! But all of them did service in the Anglo-Afghan War, even Disney version mentioned it. (Also if you want to do Nowen version of Jhonlock I don`t mind, sure go for it)
Alejandro (professor Moriarty). Do I really need to explain? Both archvillains in their stories. Professor, respected in society for his talent and achievements, wealthy, but behind all of that façade he`s "Napoleon of crime". He doesnât usually do crimes himself but rather, schemes, orchestrates the events, or provides the plans that will lead to a successful crime, like paying money to a court so that someone can be released from prison.
Heather (Irene Adler). OK, in the original books (all books written not by Arthur Conan Doyle are basically fanfics) her character and Sherlock don`t date (But if you like, it`s fine). She was more like âI know what you areâ towards him. Â I want to base it more on Warner Bros Sherlock where Irene works with Moriarty, but they also try to get rid of each other. She is also famous for blackmailing royals, If it isn`t most Heather thing I don`t know what is.
Eva (Mrs. Hudson). The landlady. I think it would be funny, she yelling at them to pay their bills in time.
Noah fully accepts the fact that he's gay, not the fact that he's in love with Alejandro. Alejandro fully accepts the fact that he's in love with Noah, not the fact that he likes men.
"...Youâre probably just gonna throw us all back inside."
My heart fucking BROKE.
He was literally the only one who believed in Ben.
Uma didn't believe they'd help at all, Evie and the VKs believed they needed Mal to be the voice of reason.
But, Harry, when he finds out the truth, he doesn't go after Mal. He doesn't rage that she should have stood for the Isle kids. He doesn't even rant about this being why he follows Uma's crew, or that she was the only chance they had of getting free.
No. He goes directly to Ben, AND BREAKS DOWN.
For just a moment, all of Harry's faith was put on Ben, believing that he might get a chance to be outside of the barrier and live that life he'd gotten a taste of:
-Eat fresh food.
-Have friends.
-Be free to be something he wants.
It's easy to forget that Harry is the child of the one villain who's most nutritious quality is his loathing of children. One can only imagine how difficult being the son of James Hook must have been.
Yet Harry, who has known nothing but loyalty to his crew, trusted his future not in the hands of his Captain, not even in the hands of another child of the Isle;
But in Ben so deeply that instead of masking his upset with anger and violence, he lets his guard down to him. His walls drop like an anchor in the ocean. I wish I could express exactly how big this sort of thing is for a person who shows as much trauma and uses as many coping mechanisms as Harry Hook is depicted to.
Harry believed in stronger and had more faith in Ben and what he wanted to do/was doing than anyone else in the entire trilogy - even and ESPECIALLY more than Mal - and this scene and his disappointment show that perfectly. His loyalty, something that Harry never falters, is with Ben. It doesn't need to be, but it is.
That boy got ATTACHED and it shows. Ben is a whole other level of special to Harry.
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