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thetravelerwrites · 3 years

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Dr. Mael Halvorg (Part 2)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationship: Male Part Fae/Female Part Fae Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Fae, Naga, Reader Insert, Anthropology, Genetics Content Warnings: Children, Pregnancy, Incubation, Infertility, Birth, Oviposition, Egg-Laying Words:

Commissioned by @ivymemnoch! The reader and Dr. Halvorg discuss his lingering infertility problem. Amai lays her final clutch of eggs. Please reblog and leave feedback!

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“Good morning, class!” You said on the first day.

“Good morning!” Fourteen bright voices responded.

All of the children except for baby Yenu were sitting on their tails behind desks in a room that had been set up as a classroom by the staff.

“So, every day each week we’re going to work on a different subject,” You began. “Mondays are reading and language comprehension, Tuesdays are maths and sciences, Wednesdays are social studies and economics, Thursdays are geography and history, Fridays are fun days with arts, crafting, music, and educational games. Today is Monday, so we’re going to start with reading. You should each have a workbook appropriate to your developmental level in your desks, so please take out your reading workbooks.”

As the children shuffled and searched for the right book, Dr. Halvorg stepped inside the classroom with a clipboard. You raised an eyebrow.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I’m observing the children in a school setting to see how they adapt,” He replied.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “And I’m also assuming how I teach, correct?”

He dipped his head sheepishly. “I was curious. And it’s for my research.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Mm.” You turned back to your students and fell into your teacher’s voice. “Keenai, if you would begin reading the first sentence, please?”

Keenai picked up his workbook and started reading. “The small dog lives in a red house.”

“Can you tell me which of these words are verbs?”

“Um…” He looked at the sentence, frowning.

“To remind you, a verb is an action word, something someone does.”

“Uh… lived?” He replied slowly.

“Very good.” You said, and he smiled in relief. “Tani, you’re next. Read the next sentence in your book.”

“The red house was built on a wed… wedeness…”

“Wednesday,” You said. “That’s a hard word, I know. Can you tell me what the noun is in that sentence?”

“House?”

“Good! A noun is a person, a place, or a thing. I’m a noun, you’re a noun, the room we’re in is a noun.”

“Is Nenish a noun?” Jinsa asked.

“Yes.”

“Ha ha, you’re a noun!” Jinsa said, pointing at Nenish.

“So are you!” Nenish interjected.

“Hey, hey! Settle down, please!” You called over them, sitting on the edge of your desk. “Fuma, you next.”

Fuma read from his book, and then Amaia. Next, you went down the line of the four-year-olds, having them read a sentence and find colors, shapes, numbers, or sounds in the sentences. The three-year-olds were next, and they simply read small sentences. You then had the one-year-olds spell and say three-letter words.

Their quick development was normal for nagas, as they tended to age quickly until they hit puberty, when their aging progress slowed to accommodate for yearly hibernation, but it was also startling in conjunction with the developmental levels of similar creatures. You had never studied the advancements of a species’ young so closely before, and you had to admit, it was fascinating. You could see why Dr. Halvorg found it so interesting.

You set the children writing tasks appropriate to their learning level and took a moment to talk to Dr. Halvorg, who was scribbling quickly in a notebook.

“They have computers now that you can write on, you know,” You told him, amused.

He looked up over his glasses at you and quirked an eyebrow. “I am aware of that, thank you. I’m not quite so old-fashioned as I seem, regardless of what Amai might tell you.” He looked back down and continued scribbling. “I’m a chronic note-taker. A bad habit I can’t seem to break, though with my profession, it’s often a strength rather than a weakness.”

“Hmm,” You hummed. “And what do your notes say about my teaching?”

“Adequate,” He replied, still scribbling. “Don’t misunderstand, that’s not a criticism. I hold everyone to an extremely high standard. If you hadn’t met expectations, I would have dismissed you.”

“So I meet your expectations?” You asked sardonically.

“At the moment,” He said, snapping his book closed and standing up. “I still want to observe your other classes before I’m completely satisfied.”

“Hmm,” You said again.

True to his word, Halvorg attended every class that week, observing you interacting with the children. Other than a question or two about your future curriculum, he stayed quiet. At the end of the week, he asked that you submit a weekly progress report until you either found a replacement or were dismissed.

It seemed excessive to you, and you were beginning to wonder if he still saw the children as an experiment. He seemed to care about them, but how much of that was genuine and how much of it was his own self-interest? You were starting to feel leery of and disconcerted by him.

Perhaps he picked up on this, because he seemed to go out of his way to avoid you. He had you direct all of your questions and reports to his assistant and rarely picked up his phone. Any conversations were brief and succinct. He did send you notes on your curriculum, making suggestions for each child. If you weren’t already suspicious of his motives, you might almost have though it sweet.

“I think Halvorg is avoiding me,” You told Amai when the two of you went to lunch together. Now that the two of you could hang out after all the years, you made it a point to set time aside for each other and had lunch at least once a week.

“What makes you say that?” Amai asked, drizzling dressing over her starter salad.

“Ever since he watched me teach classes, he’s barely spoken to me. He seemed excited to exchange research notes when I first arrived, but now he seems to have no interest in speaking to me since he finished observing class.”

“He could just be busy,” Amai suggested. “The four year old’s birthdays are coming up. He always does something special for the kids on their birthdays.”

“Are you concerned that he only sees your children as test subjects?” You asked her. “He seems obsessed with them.”

Amai laughed. “I thought that way in the early days, but he genuinely loves kids. If anything ever happened to me or Yenuno, I’m confident Halvorg would take care of them.” She took a sip of her mineral water. “Are you coming to the kids party? You’re invited, obviously.”

“Will there be clowns? I hate clowns.”

She snorted. “Nothing so gauche. I think Halvorg set up a treasure hunt. The kids always love whatever he plans. Honestly, I know I complain about him, but he does make it easy for me sometimes. I haven’t had to plan any major events since the kids hatched.”

“Hmm… I don’t know. It’s strange to me how involved he is.”

Amai sat back in her seat and eyed you shrewdly. “Did he ever tell you about his son?”

You looked up in surprise. “Son? I thought you said he had no children.”

“He doesn’t… technically.” Amai set her fork down. “You didn’t hear this from me so don’t repeat it, but he had a wife nearly a hundred years ago who cheated on him. He raised a boy, thinking he was his son, but the child was actually fathered by the other man. His wife left him and took the boy with her and he never saw him again. I don’t think he ever got over that.”

“Oh, god,” You replied, horrified. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

“He’s spend the last several decades saving dying races from the brink of extinction. In a way, he thinks of those children he helped bring into the world as his children, too. And every time he has to let them go, it’s like losing his son all over again. I think the fact that he gets to help raise our babies is something of a gift for him. Trust me, it’s not something he takes for granted.”

“I guess I hadn’t thought of it like that,” You said in dismay.

“Halvorg is stuffy, strict, and a stickler for protocols, so he can be difficult to read, but I assure you, he loves my children as if they were his own. It may have started as research, but he has a family now and I think that’s what he wanted all along. Try not to judge him to harshly.”

You conceded with a nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The following Saturday, you attended the kids birthday party as requested. The kids were excited and zooming around the receiving area, shrieking and laughing, all of them wearing party hats and nothing else. Amaia was piggy-backing on Dr. Halvorg, her tail wrapped around his waist for stability and her arms hugged around his neck. Dr. Halvorg walked around completely normally, as if this was a typical action and he was used to it. He watched the children playing with a wide, fond grin on his face.

You walked over to Amai and Yenuno, who were watching from the refreshments table with Yenu, feeding her crackers.

“Nothing like a little bit of chaos in the morning,” You said.

They laughed.

“You’ve never seen them after a group kill,” Yenuno said. “They’re uncontrollable after they’ve taken down an elk together. It’s pretty incredible to watch for me, personally. Nagas in the wild typically don’t work together and they especially don’t hunt together, not even siblings.”

“They are very close and friendly, for nagas,” You remarked. “Markedly different to most snake-related species I’ve met.”

“It’s Amai’s blood and influence that’s doing it, I’m sure,” Yenuno said, kissing his wife’s cheek. “She’s the most friendly and cheerful person I’ve ever met.”

“To be fair, sweetie, you haven’t met all that many people,” Amai said, laughing.

“That is fair,” Yenuno conceded. “My point stands, though.”

“Alright children, gather ‘round!” Halvorg called, and they flocked to him, swirling around him like a whirlpool. “Now, you guys are going to split up into teams to help Nenish, Tahara, and Sadji find their gifts. Nenish will have Tani, Jinsa, and Keenai on his team. Tahara will have Amaia, Osan, Ishni, and Dashu on his team. And Khuzho, Chidil, Fuma, and Itheti will be on Sadji’s team.” He handed a small leaflet to each team. “Follow the clues to find the treasures! Go!”

The kids scattered, giggling madly.

“Come get something to drink and rest for a minute, Halvorg!” Yenuno called. “I think you’ve earned it.”

Halvorg grinned boyishly, an expression that brightened his face and made him look… well… rather handsome. He jogged over to the table and had a ginger ale. Elves have hypermobile ears, and his ears were high and wiggling slightly, a normal indication in elvish peoples of happiness and excitement.

“I think they’ll really enjoy their gifts this year,” Halvorg said, taking sips of his soda. “And the treasure hunt is half the fun. It’s challenging, but not too difficult. If they work together, it should be no trouble at all.”

“You didn’t get them history books like last year, did you?” Amai asked with her eyes narrowed. “You might as well have burned the money you spent on those for all the use they got out of them.”

“No, I learned my lesson,” He said defensively. “I bought toys.”

“Educational toys?” Amaia asked shrewdly.

He stopped mid-sip and looked at Amaia with an eyebrow raised. “…maybe,” He said into his cup.

Amaia rolled her eyes. “At least Yenuno and I ordered some stuff the kids will like.”

“You don’t know that they won’t like them,” I said. “I loved educational toys.”

“Yeah, but you’re a nerd,” Amaia said, poking you playfully.

“So what? Your kids could be nerds, too. I’m pretty sure Osan is going to be a Star Wars fan. He’s been talking my ear off about the Mandalorian.”

“It’s so strange,” Amaia said, ignoring your response and looking off in the distance. “I thought that because the kids were hatched in clutches, they would be like twins or triples or the like and have similar interests and personalities, but they’re all so different. Different likes, different traits, different styles. It’s amazing.”

“It amazes me, too,” Yenuno said, staring into his drink with a wistful expression. “My siblings and I separated when we were young, so I don’t know what they were like or if we had similar interests. Honestly, until recently, I never gave them a thought. Watching my children work together… it makes me wonder what my own siblings were like, and if they’d still be alive today if we had helped each other.”

There was a contemplative silence for a few minutes, broken by excited voices reentering the receiving area.

“We found it!” Tahara said, holding up a wrapped gift. The other four were carrying smaller treat bags that had their names written on them. “Uncle Maël, look!”

“Excellent! Well done!” Halvorg said, bending to give Tahara a hug. “Now, let’s wait until your brothers return with their gifts before we open them, okay? How about you five play tag until then?”

“Okay!” Tahara said.

“I’ll play with you,” Yenuno said. “I’m starting to get fat, preparing for the incubation period.” He patted Amai’s belly, which carried his three eggs, likely to be the last clutch they’d have together.

“How soon?” You asked Amai as Yenuno took off to chase with his children.

“Any day,” Amai said with a weary sigh. “And I’m ready for it. These little guys are heavy.”

“Boys or girls?”

“We won’t know until they hatch. It’s too hard to get a clear picture with the ultrasound, and besides, even if it could, both the male and female genitalia are internal, so it’s nearly impossible to tell.” She took a sip of ginger ale. “We’re really hoping for at least one girl. Don’t get me wrong, we love the boys more than anything, but we’d like Amaia and Yenu to have some sisters.”

“I’d like to be present for the laying, if that’s okay,” You said.

“For your research?” She asked.

Your head rocked back. “No, because you’re my friend and I want to be there for you.”

Amai smiled fondly. “Oh. Of course, thank you.”

Dr. Halvorg had not added anything to the conversation with you and Amai, and instead went to the table and made a plate of snacks. You gave Amai a look and a cocked eyebrow, and she nodded understanding, slipping away from her spot to watch her husband and children play.

“Dr. Halvorg?”

He flinched and looked up, glancing around furtively and noticing that the two of you were alone. “Yes?”

“Why are you avoiding me?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again before responding, “I’m doing no such thing.”

“I’ve requested at least three meetings with you this past month, and you’re always too busy,” You said dryly.

“Well, I am,” He said, turning. “If you’ll excuse me…”

“Are you avoiding me because I asked you out?” You asked bluntly.

He missed a step in his stride and stopped.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I should have realized from your professional demeanor that you wouldn’t be open to interoffice dating. I apologize.”

Halvorg sighed and turned to face you. “It’s not that. Not exactly, I mean.” He set his plate on the table and looked you full in the face for the first time in weeks. “I haven’t given a thought to dating in…” He rubbed his forehead. “Gods… decades. The question took me off guard, of course, and I actually had to sit down and give it some thought. I’ve been wrapped up in my work, of course, but I think I was just distracting myself.”

“From what?”

He sat on the edge of the table and crossed his arms. “It’s hard to talk about. I don’t even really talk about it with Yenuno, and I would consider him my closest friend.” He sighed heavily and avoided your eye. “I’ve ignored my personal life in favor of spending my career and fortune in this century helping races achieve something I want for myself.”

“Children?” You guessed.

He nodded a little morosely. “Not just that, but that is a significant part of it. I’ve been following the reproduction rates of Celtic fae since the fae were originally integrated and it’s decreasing year by year. I live in constant fear that my own race will be extinct in my lifetime.” He quirked his head at you. “Your race still seems to be fairly prolific, is that correct?”

“Oh yeah, I have a bunch of brothers and a truckload of cousins. No problems there.”

He sighed. “I don’t know what the problem with my race is. I’ve studied genetic traits, magical impediments, marriage and divorce rates, and ratio of coupling to conceptions.The numbers are terrible and I don’t know why. That’s what drives me crazy. I hate not having an answer.”

“Have there been miscarriages?”

“No, that’s the crazy thing, the rate of conception is extraordinarily low. I think there have only been three live births of Celtic fae blood in the last year.”

“Oh, jeez,” You said, sitting against the table next to him. “I didn’t realize the problem was that severe. Have you considered whether it might be a physical problem?”

“How do you mean?”

“Have you ever done a sperm count? Or had an MRI of the area to see if there’s a blockage? That kind of thing can be genetic and men tend to be shy about stuff like that.”

He tilted his head and frowned. “No, I haven’t. It actually hadn’t occurred to me. Honestly, I’ve been so focused on my work to distract myself, it may have worked too well and I ignored such things.” He looked at you and smiled. “You’ve given me something to think about.”

You smiled back. “Good. I wonder if the females of the race have a similar issue. It may have been something bred into the people over time, over centuries.”

“That’s possible,” He said. “There’s certainly a precedent; some creatures have been bred to extinction. Remember the pug?”

“That tiny dog breed with the squashed face?” You said. “Yeah, they died out a while ago, didn’t they?”

He nodded. “That was human interference, though. Yenuno’s people were dying out due to antisocialism; too reclusive to even propagate their own species. Yenuno was the only one of his kind to take up this project, and even he was reluctant.”

“He seems happy now,” You remarked.

“Yeah,” Halvorg said softly, watching Yenuno laughing and chasing his kids with a sad kind of jealousy. “He does.”

You watched his face, the deep, deep sadness creasing his face and making him look older than he was.

“Follow up, Halvorg, see a specialist. This may have a fix that didn’t exist the last time you tried.”

He nodded, smiling at you, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I will.”

As you stood up, you bumped his shoulder lightly. “Thank you for talking to me. I appreciate that you trusted me enough to discuss such a sensitive subject. I get the feeling that you don’t share yourself with many people.”

He laughed. “No, not really.” He looked up with a smile that seemed more sincere. “Thank you for listening.”

Amai went into labor three days later. She was taken to the laying room, where both Yenuno and Dr. Halvorg were present in addition to the interspecies OBGYN. You were suited up in scrubs and the paper gowns that surgeons wear, as was everyone else in the room besides Amai, who was completely naked, and Yenuno, who never wore clothing. There were natal heart monitors on her belly and an EKG hooked up to her chest.

Amai was sitting on a specially designed chair that would allow her to pass the eggs through her birth canal and into the waiting arms of the doctor. She was already sweating and panting by the time you arrived. The OBGYN and Dr. Halvorg were having a quiet conversation. You went to the other side of Amai and took her hand, trying not to wince when she nearly crushed your fingers.

“Is she okay?” You asked in alarm.

“She’s not fully dilated yet,” Halvorg said, pulling his braid into a surgical cap. “The eggs are getting impatient, it seems.”

“Yeah, well, so am I, so they can settle the fuck down!” Amai shrieked at him.

He bore the abuse with no reaction other than a wry smile. Yenuno wisely said nothing and simply wiped Amai’s forehead with a cloth.

“It won’t be long,” the OBGYN said. “She’s almost there.”

“Just saw me open and get them out,” Amai moaned. “It would hurt less.”

Yenuno tried to kiss her cheek, but she swatted him away weakly.

“No,” She said peevishly. “No touching ever again.”

“You said that last time,” He said, smiling fondly.

“Yeah, but I mean it this time,” She said sulkily.

“Of course you do, darling.” He patted her head. She scrunched her face up at him in annoyance. She was always adorable when she was miffed.

“I’ll make you into shoes,” She said sourly. “And a matching purse.”

It took a while for Amai to dilate fully, and by then she was very tired. Yenuno was looking worried; she’d laid several eggs over the years and never struggled this much before. Perhaps this being their last clutch was a good idea.

“Okay, I think we can start pushing now,” The doctor said, getting ready to catch the eggs. “Amai, when you feel the next contract, hold your breath, bear down, and push.”

“Okay,” She breathed. “One’s coming.”

We all braced for the push. Amai took several quick deep breaths and held it, her face pulled tight in pain and effort, doubling over in the chair as she did. You and Yenuno held her hands and patted her back and murmured encouragement. Halvorg was waiting with a soft cloth to take the eggs for cleaning, after which they would be laid in a specialized incubating carrier to be taken to Yenuno’s cottage.

The first egg came slowly and with much screaming. The doctor caught it and handed it off to Halvorg. The shell of the egg was soft and needed extremely delicate care, but Halvorg was well practiced by now and got the egg washed and into the carrier under ninety seconds and returned for the next.

The second egg came more quickly, but Amai screamed the whole time. By the time the third and final egg was laid, her voice was raw and she was too exhausted to scream.

But it was over. She fell back into the recline of the chair as if boneless and breathed in shallowly, her eyes barely open.

“You were amazing, darling,” Yenuno said gently, kissing Amai’s face. “Rest. I’m taking the eggs to the cottage. The children will visit you when you’ve slept.”

She turned her head slowly to look at him and touched her fingertips to his face, tracing down his cheek, chin, neck and chest before letting her hand fall back to her side, and her eyes closed. Nurses came to whisk her away to a recovery room, the OBGYN following behind. Yenuno and Halvorg left to take the eggs to the cottage for the incubation, and you were left alone in the laying room.

As you were shedding the paper gown and surgical cap, you noticed a small book lying on the ground. It looked to be one of Halvorg’s research journals, though it was smaller than his usual ones. He must have dropped it out of his back pocket when he was disrobing. You picked it up and took it with you with the intent on returning it to him in the morning.

And of course, you’d completely forgotten by the time you woke up.

Amai recovered enough in a few days to be up and walking around. She and the children took turns keeping Yenuno company, as he grew morose if he was left alone too long. You had declared half days until the new babies hatched so that they could have more time with their dad.

One afternoon, after the children had left class for the day, Dr. Halvorg came in and sat on the edge of your desk.

“Hello,” You said pleasantly, closing the folder with their latest work for grading. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“I wanted to let you know I took you up on your advice,” He said, looking a little bashful. “I went and saw a specialist. They’re going to be doing some tests soon. Sperm count, blood tests, an MRI. Any test that can be done will be done.”

“Good!” You said, swinging your chair around. “I’m glad. Maybe you’ll finally get an answer.”

He sighed, looking pensive and anxious. “I’m trying not to get my hopes up, but I still wanted to thank you for pushing me to do it.”

“I didn’t push you to do it, Maël,” You said. His eyes narrowed at your use of his first name, but he didn’t say anything. “I just brought the subject up. It was your decision to do it.”

“Well, thank you all the same,” He replied. “I admit, I’m nervous about it. I could either get wonderful news or have my worst fears confirmed. I don’t know how I’ll react to either option.”

“Would you like me to come with you?” You asked him.

He looked at you in surprise. “You… you don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t,” You replied. “But this is the kind of thing you need friends for. And since Yenuno is tied up with the eggs, I could be a good substitute. You don’t even have to think of me as a friend, if you don’t want to, just an emotional support associate.”

He was quiet for a moment. “I think of you as a friend.”

“Well, thank you. I was hoping we’d get there eventually. So? What do you think? Want some support for this?”

“Not for the tests, I can do those by myself perfectly well,” He said, adjusting his tie nervously. “But… for the results… perhaps… a friend would be nice.”

“I’ll be there for you, then,” You said, standing and patting his arm. “Does Yenuno know about this? Have you talked to him about it?”

“No,” He replied. “I didn’t want to tell him while he’s dealing with his own new babies. Besides, if the news is not good, I don’t want people feeling sorry for me. If the news comes back positive… I don’t know… I think this is one thing I’d rather keep to myself.”

“Except for me, you mean,” You said.

He nodded concedingly. “Besides you.”

“Let me know when the results come back and I’ll go with you. We’ll make a day of it, go to a spa, get a bikini wax together, eat some overpriced salads, buy something ridiculous we want but don’t need. It’ll be a blast.”

He actually laughed a little. “Sounds like a plan.”

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

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op-peccatori · 4 years

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Hopefully, Yours (part 1) | MLQC Victor

Fandom: Mr Love Queen’s Choice

Pairing: Victor/Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 8823

Summary: A fight between co-stars leads to you taking their place, along with the man you’ve been carrying a rather fervid torch for. A happy accident—except it’s a dating show and you have to pretend your feelings aren’t real. | Part 2

Warnings/Tags: language, fluff, oblivious behaviour, dating show, social media, Victor might be a little OOC because I’ve written him differently, some making out in the next part hence the rating, no smut though, my sense of humour

A/n: as always, I’m here to clown around. I tried something a lil new (for me) in this one 👉👈 something I picked up quite recently from works I adored, so I hope you like it! It got longer than I intended so I had to split it into 2 parts ;.; Victor said: keep writing, hoe.

ALSO!!! Yours by Ella Henderson is. THE Victor/MC song for me. I felt it in my bones when I listened to it again after all these years. brb crying

It’s the incessant buzzing of your phone that lures you out of the warm cocoon of your blanket.

You don’t really want to come out of your haven. Not after the week you’ve had, and because you know what awaits you. But as Anna had told you, there’s no way you can avoid this. They had finished editing the episode on Thursday, and Jason had already texted you last night to let you know it would be ready to be uploaded at 7:00 pm today.

Reaching listlessly for your phone, you squint at the bright screen through bleary eyes; it’s 9:00 pm already, and you’ve managed to sleep most of your Sunday away. It’s been a whole week since you filmed the episode, and while you were able to keep your thoughts at bay through it, it’s finally caught up to you.

After all, this is the episode you’re going to be in.

Pulling your laptop towards you, you open the tab that has the streaming site open. Your heart begins its anxious thump against its cage, a beat all too familiar to you by now. As the video begins playing, the memories of that day rise up to the forefront of your mind, refusing to be outdone by this meticulously edited version.

It started with a plan. A very well-thought-out plan.

“He called me a bitch. How can you still expect me to shoot with this jerk?”

Things were not going according to the very well-thought-out plan.

From your place next to Homer, the camera guy, you watched with mounting apprehension as Hollow resisted the AD’s attempts to placate her. But she did seem calmer, the scalding rage of her glare simmering down as he continued to reason with her.

And then her partner for the episode walked back onto the set.

“She said my songs are predictable! You want me to work with a hater?” Kai protested loudly, and Hollow turned back to him in a fury. The AD looked back at you in dismay, the rest of the staff watching with varying levels of exasperation.

“This is supposed to be a cheesy, ultra-romantic show,” Kiki whispered from her place at your side.

“This is what the reality is. All that sappy crap is for the camera,” Willow snorted, shaking her head in disenchanted disappointment.

There may be more than a kernel of truth in that. Hopefully, Yours was your company’s latest project; the second season, the first one having been produced by a different group. It’s a romantic web-series that featured different couples going on dates around town. The couples featured ranged from non-celebrities to people who are household names. So far, there hadn’t been too many issues with the participants—so you really should have expected this.

“Not always!” you cut in, fiddling nervously with your planner. “Some of the couples have gone on to date for real. Raymond and Liliana got married!” A lovely couple from an episode that aired last year. They’d been in the news recently too.

“They’re getting divorced,” Homer piped up in response. You hoped the look on your face let him know how unhelpful that was and turned back to the clashing couple. The AD looked harrowed and harassed as things turn increasingly hostile.

“Willow, do we have a backup couple?” you asked after a long moment of watching them spit insults. “Or just one person to replace either of them. What about Carlson?”

“He won’t be in town until tomorrow.”

‘Can I leave town?’ You wondered in a fit of desperate, wishful thinking.

“And we’ve got everyone here, with everything set up. Can we really waste time?” Kiki wondered out loud.

“No, we can’t,” answered a strained voice from behind you. All four of you turn to see Anna striding towards you, her hassled expression sending a frisson of worry through your stomach. “___, we’ve got guests.”

“Guests?” you repeated numbly. “What guests?” From the look on her face, it couldn’t be good news.

Anna held your gaze for a second, looking vaguely apologetic, before stepping to the side, allowing you to get a look at who Jason, the director, had rushed off to greet. You felt the ground shift beneath you, throat drying rapidly and the surrounding noise dimming as you focused on the new arrivals—your friend, your boss if you insist on the technicalities, and the star of most of your daydreams. LFG’s very own CEO, Victor, and his loyal secretary, Goldman.

In other words, people you hadn’t expected to see today.

“Why?” you whimpered, mostly panicked, but distantly amused by how enthusiastically he’s being greeted. It gave you a few moments to get it together, a familiar buzz coming to life underneath your skin.

This is terrible. Surely, this is karmic retribution for some misdeed committed by you.

“Boss, get it together,” Kiki hissed in an echo of your thoughts, and you realized you had half-fallen back into her and Willow’s arms, their hands steady on your shoulders.

“This is really bad timing. Like, really bad,” Willow pointed out unnecessarily as you straightened up, running a quick hand through your hair.

“Goldman said they just dropped in to see how it’s coming along. I don’t really understand why, this is not at all Victor’s cup of tea, but he’d been hesitant about the show, so...” With a sympathetic smile, Anna placed a hand on your elbow, squeezing lightly. The comfort it brought is chased away almost immediately by a furious screech.

“That is it. I’m done!”

Turning just in time to watch Hollow stalk off the set, you tried to restart your thought process. You just needed to solve this.

“How do we solve this?” Kiki asked in a low voice, and Willow shook her head helplessly.

With no answer for her, you could only watch as Jason led Victor and Goldman towards the set. You knew the exact moment he saw you; there was no smile, but a slow blink. It was still early in the afternoon, and his patrician features were alight with a soft glow in the golden sunlight, the curve of his lip relaxed and his clever gaze taking in you and everything happening around you in seconds. You’re not sure what he saw in your face but it made the corners of his mouth pull downwards.

Your stomach plummeted, seized by a sudden urge to flee.

But with his long strides, he reached you before you could take a step back. Kiki and Willow retreated silently, greeting him like newly registered soldiers coming face to face with their general and leaving you at his mercy. You would have felt miffed, but the way the sunlight softened his features was a little distracting. His lips moved, and you’re certain he said something, but couldn’t quite hear him over the sound of your heart drumming in your ears.

Homer coughed loudly, popping the bubble.

“Good morning, Victor!” Certain your lack of actual delight was obvious, you tried to inject as much enthusiasm into your voice as you could while your project went up in flames behind you. Not that you weren’t happy to see him, as the sudden thrill twisting through insisted on reminding you, but the prospect of disappointing him was one you would rather not face.

There was no visible reaction from Victor, but Homer looked a bit disturbed by the attempt. Goldman just looked like he pitied you, while Jason looked oddly contemplative. This was probably his first time seeing you this…dazzled.

“Good morning,” Victor replied evenly. His eyes, a constant, focused storm and his silken hair falling artfully over his forehead form a picture so lovely, almost beyond words. It’s never stopped you from waxing poetic about them, or his long list of admirable personality traits, but he had a way of knowing when you’re not paying attention. “Looks like I picked a bad time to check in.”

You couldn’t quite pin down the inflexion in his tone, but your immediate guess was that he was either severely disappointed or was low-key mocking you.

With how quickly things derailed, it’s understandable.

“Haha,” you laughed—an unfortunate coping mechanism that seems to flare up most often in his presence. Also, because Victor looked unfairly gorgeous, as always and you were a fool with a worryingly erratic pulse. “Just a few bumps. Nothing we can’t fix.”

Behind you, Kai declared his intent to leave as well. There’s a contract, so they would have to look into this, but that would take time. At that moment, Victor was eyeing the singer leaving the set and your nervous smile with his brows steadily climbing higher.

“Right. Anything I can do to help?” he offered, and the shame that elicited is so fierce you felt like you’d shrunk. This was supposed to be a casual visit, for him to see how the filming was going and instead you made him feel the need to step in and clean up the mess.

“No,” you said, firm, immediate, vehement. He frowned down at you. “We’ll come up with something. Why don’t you two take a seat, we’ll get you some drinks and Anna can go over the ratings and numbers with you.”

Victor seemed to hesitate, still frowning at you, but relented when you mustered up a small but convincing smile for him. “Alright. Let me know if you need anything,” he insisted, because he’s nice like that, before following Goldman and Anna into the small room you’ve converted into an office. You have a small but closed set for the first meeting of the couples, before the crew moves to whatever location has been picked out for the date.

“He’s nicer than he looks,” Homer observed as the two of you watched him leave.

“He’s lovely,” you said miserably. Who would have thought there’d be a day when you said that about Victor? He was still an evil capitalist, but he’s a kind man.

Homer didn’t get the chance to reply as Jason rushed up to you.

“Okay, so we’re gonna have to sit those two down for a talk, but we don’t have time for that today. We need substitutes,” Jason said, not nearly as panicked as you would expect from a director who had no one to direct. It was admirable, this ability to keep his head even when he hits what looks like a dead end.

“I’ll make some calls.” Reaching into your pocket, your mind ram through your options as your hand closed around your phone.

“I want you to do it,” Jason declared.

It took you a few seconds to realize you hadn’t misheard. He looked back at you steadily, already resolute in his decision. You looked around, expecting protests, but the staff members only looked eager.

“…I don’t like this joke,” you said, slowly.

“Good thing it wasn’t one!” Jason returned cheerfully. “Before you turn it down, let me say—please? And don’t go off with the ‘I’m nobody!’ thing. People know who you are.”

“Um.” You really, really didn’t know what to say to him.

“My brother thinks you’re hot,” Homer offered, and Jason beamed at him.

“Okay, we’ll do this. You’re the producer of one of the oldest and most popular shows. You’ve gained more media presence over the last two years. You’re also friends with Kiro and Professor Lucien, so people have been quite curious about you for a while! This is just a fun little thing. Please?” Jason pleaded.

In the spirit of fairness, you took a minute to think about it. It would solve half the problem. And today’s location was a local fair, where the couple got to try out anything they want to, with all the expenses covered by the company. The very thought of stepping in front of the camera left your cheeks flushed, but you couldn’t deny the bud of excitement that seemed to have taken root.

In the end, your stomach made the choice for you.

“If you think it’ll be fine, then sure,” you acceded, thoughts filled with stir-fried noodles and holding hands with a faceless person. “But what about the other person?”

“Hmm,” Jason looked in the direction of the office, reminding you that you don’t have all day to decide.

“I could call Gavin and ask if he’s free,” you suggested. People adore him. “Or Lucien?”

Jason nodded as if truly considering it, his gaze sharp on you. “Good choices. What about Victor?”

“Yeah, no. That is a bad idea,” you said at once, without giving it a moment’s thought. This was a dating show, where people go on cute dates and act adorable on camera. The very thought of Victor doing that at all, let alone with you…was something you couldn’t think of because it was ridiculous. And bad for your poor heart.

“It is an excellent idea,” Jason disagreed. You hated to be the bearer of bad news, but this was necessary. You’ve known Victor for a while now, and felt responsible for Jason’s well-being that would inevitably be threatened if he embarks on this particular path.

“He’d never agree to it,” you told him solemnly. The man barely agrees to do interviews; a show like this? Out of the question. “You know who he is, right? He doesn’t have time for this.”

“Why don’t you leave that to me, and go get ready. I’ll go get your man,” Jason said, loud and bright, shooing you in the direction of the dressing rooms. You stood there for another minute, dazed and afraid. What if Victor thought it was your idea?

The horror.

The terror.

“I’m still texting Lucien!” you called after him, voice pitched high in your alarm. Before you could follow Jason to make sure Victor knows you would never suggest this, an arm slid around your shoulder.

“Darling,” Arnold, the head stylist, cooed at you. “I heard the good news.”

“How?” It had been two minutes. People shouldn’t be spreading this without the director’s confirmation.

“Forget the hows. This is your time to shine. Come, we’re going to make that CEO drool,” he proclaimed, shepherding you towards the dressing rooms. “And I can finally do something about this hair!”

“He’s not going to agree.” You were absolutely certain of that, even as your mind continued to conjure cutesy images of you sharing cotton candy with the reticent man.

Taking a seat at the vanity, you reached for your phone over the cotton pads, watching Arnold’s reflection in the large mirror as he flitted about the small room, picking out different outfits. You hadn’t gotten a chance to check it for a while, and scrolled through your texts swiftly, pausing on a few in particular.

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Victor [9:00]: Hello. I’ve got some time off today.

Victor [9:02]: Is it alright if we drop by the set? What time is your lunch break?

Victor [9:20]: You must be busy. I spoke to Anna. I’ll see you later.

Victor [9:25]: Also, good morning.

‎

Oh.

He had actually let you know he’d be dropping in. Taciturn and domineering he may be, but Victor’s quiet consideration often left you glowing with warmth. In comparison, your own clumsiness often left you embarrassed. In this instance, it made you feel doubly determined to do this right.

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Y/N [12: 05]: Hi, sorry I missed these. Don’t worry, I’ll get us back on track.

‎

Closing Victor’s chat, you took a moment to consider your options before making your choice.

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Y/N [12:07]: Lucien! Are you free?

Lucien [12:15]: Hello. Just wrapped up a lecture. I thought you were going to be shooting today?

Y/N [12:16]: I am. Actually, I had a favour to ask.

‎

You stared down at the screen of your phone, shoulders relaxing as one of the assistants fussed with your hair. Should you wait for Jason before asking him? You knew what the outcome will be, regardless of what you wanted. You’ve always known, always kept your thoughts safe behind a barrier, never letting them spill out in Victor’s presence.

You thought back to his disappointment, and something fragile in your chest tightened.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you prayed to all the powers above that this works out.

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Victor [12:18]: Dummy. I’m not worried.

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There was a knock at the door as you opened the chat, thrown off but pleased by Victor’s confidence.

“Guys, can I come in?”

It was Jason.

With trembling fingers curling tight, you sat up straighter as he was let in. Your pulse quickens, your emotions jumbling together until your can’t tell them apart. You kept your expectations low. You knew what the answer would be. It couldn’t hurt if you expected it.

You just hoped it wouldn’t change anything. It wasn’t your idea.

“He agreed!” Jason announced with a flourish, and your heart halted its despondent march. “His secretary’s picking up his outfit, they said it won’t take too long. We’ll do his hair and mak—uh, are you okay?”

You swallowed your heart back down. “He said yes.”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, stretching out his answer, nodding as Arnold thrust an outfit at him.

“And he…knows it’s with…me?” you asked carefully.

Jason’s brows climbed a notch higher. “Yes, of course.” His eyes gleamed with something you couldn’t quite read.

“Right, right. That’s great! Fantastic. Wonderful,” you said admittedly weakly, turning your gaze back to your reflection. The colour seemed to have drained from your skin, and you ignored the concerned glance exchanged by Jason and Arnold.

“___, hey,” Jason began gently, coming up to stand behind your chair. “Are you okay with this?”

You studied his worried expression, thoughts turning inward. You shifted aside the panic, the disbelief, the prickling nerves, and shushed the sparks of excitement.

A date with Victor.

It sounded wonderful. But the problem was never about you not wanting it. It was that you’ve wanted it for so long and so badly. Could you really have this?

“It’s okay to say no. It’s just…I don’t think it’ll be as awful as you think,” Jason said. His brow furrowed as the lines of your face smoothed out.

Oh.

“It’s for the camera,” you remembered, and Jason hummed thoughtfully. Regardless of what he may think of you, Victor wouldn’t let it show on the screen. You knew he was aware of what the show entails. So, perhaps, you could have this. It was for work. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s okay.”

Your breath evened out from its shallow state, and you smiled up at Jason, who still looked concerned.

“It’ll be okay.” Your phone buzzed again, and you gathered yourself once more.

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Lucien [12: 23]: What can I do for you?

Victor [12:24]: And I look forward to working with you.

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It wouldn’t be real.

Telling yourself it wouldn’t be real was easy.

Sitting next to Victor, your high stools positioned close together as you tried to keep your thoughts away from dangerous paths, was not easy. But the light notes of his scent, sandalwood and myrrh if your nose hadn’t led you astray, threatened to lull you into a state of near-intoxication.

Jason had wanted to film the ‘first meeting’ and, for the sake of authenticity, decided to have Victor wait in front of the camera while you got to be the one to walk in. Which meant it was straight from the dressing room to the set. While you were thankful you wouldn’t be filmed drooling on camera, it still meant you wouldn’t get a chance to talk to him until after, or in between takes.

You were a lot more grateful for the arrangement when you did walk to the set, because the sight of Victor—clad in a slim-fit black shirt, paired with a dark grey jacket and black pants that stretched deliciously over his muscled thighs—stopped you dead in your tracks, your thoughts wiped blissfully clean.

The look on his face, bright under the studio lights, had been unreadable, but it didn’t look like his usual unimpressed poker face, so you decided to take it as not quite a win, but not a loss either. Then the small upturn of the corners of his lips, however, threatened to overload your system, prompting you to avert your gaze slightly as you walked to him, for fear of losing yourself.

Your hi had been shyer than intended, but his hello had been the gentlest you had ever heard it.

And then he handed you a bouquet of red, fragrant roses and you felt yourself grow weak.

It was a short take, where you both introduced yourselves, and discussed where you’d be going for the date.

“Do you like fairs?” he’d asked, gaze intent as if your answer was of the utmost importance.

“I love them,” you’d answered, meaning it completely, and he’d looked glad.

Even through the wild beating of your heart, you had managed to feel impressed. He was doing wonderfully already. Who knew Victor had these acting skills? Hopefully, he thought the same of you. You weren’t acting, though, and this, you were quickly realizing, could be a wonderful way to lift the lid off the pot just a little, and let your real feelings shine through.

You would be filming the individual, interview type scenes last, after the date.

With the first meeting done, with Jason going over the take to make sure he had everything he needed, you would be moving to the location soon. But first-

You looked around quickly, covering your mic and making sure nobody was paying too much attention to you, before turning to Victor—only to nearly jump in fright when you met his eyes. How he’d known you wanted to talk, you’d never know. His own eyes had widened when you’d turned around all of a sudden, the tips of his ears reddening slightly. He had probably been startled by your reaction.

“Hi,” you whispered, grinning up at him, and his lips twitched as he covered his mic.

“You’re doing well,” Victor told you, giving you a firm nod, and you couldn’t quite keep from beaming at him.

“Thanks, you too. I never knew you were hiding such a skilled actor in there!” You really meant it, but your words gave him pause, mouth opening and closing as he considered his response. Strange, as modesty was something he didn’t often bother with. Not to say he’s arrogant, just that he knew his strengths.

“…thank you,” he finally said. “You too. I didn’t know you could…act.”

Because you weren’t acting. The blushing, the shy giggling, the warmth buzzing through you, they were painfully real.

You shrugged, smiling slightly, and he looked away.

“Just…thank you, Victor,” you murmured. “I know this isn’t really your thing. But I promise I’ll do my best to make it enjoyable.”

The light, airy sound that escaped his mouth could almost be a laugh. He did shoot you a small smirk, facing you once more. “Well, you’re not wrong. But it can’t be too bad. I’ve heard they’ve got good street food.”

“Good street food,” you repeated blankly. Wasn’t he taking this acting thing too far? This was bordering on alarming, coming from the man who used to look down on you for eating instant noodles.

“Yes.” He looks at you as if daring you to argue, and, well, who are you to argue with an actor’s method?

His smile faded slightly as yours widened, eyes fixating on yours, your voice pitching higher in your excitement. “I know, yeah, great food. Literally the only reason I agreed to do this!”

Victor’s face shutters at that, his lips pressing tightly together. “Hm.” He turned back to face the camera, leaving you confused, before realisation dawned.

“Hey, don’t worry! I won’t be too much of a glutton, we’ll be on camera, after all,” you told him, as reassuringly as possible because you and good food were a dangerous combo.

He arched a sharp brow at you. “We’ll see about that. I may spend most of my time in kitchen, but Mr Mills has much to tell me about some of your reactions.”

It was only through the sheer power of your offence that you were able to scowl at him even with the heat flaring up in your cheeks. “Well, there’s no way the food there will be as good as the one in Souvenir, so we have nothing to worry about.”

You resisted the urge to cross your arms, keeping your hands neatly folded in your lap as you turned away from him. But when he said nothing for a whole minute, you couldn’t resist the urge to sneak a peek, only to be left with your jaw slack.

Victor was still facing forward, but the corners of his mouth seemed to be curling up despite the effort he was clearly putting into keeping them neutral, his tiny smile still managing to spill through the seams. It enraptured you, a willing captive to the sight of him so pleased, and you wondered if you could make it through this with your heart intact.

But then, you told yourself through your daze, any chef would be happy to receive such praise for their food.

[video]

hopefully, yours, episode 3, part 1: Introductions (Victor and Y/n)

450,569 views • Feb 8th, 2020

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JTV ✓

1.19M subscribers

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51,509 comments

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Jason P ✓

pinned comment

This is a special one guys ♡

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needwater 45 minutes ego

AM I HALLUCINATING OR IS VICTOR LI ACTUALLY ON A DATING SHOW?

view 50 replies

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somsom 23 minutes ago

omg it’s y/n! We rarely get to see her on TV. She’s so cute!!!!

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orangeismycolour 16 minutes ago

!!!! Victor and Y/n!!! Omg ever since I saw them attend the Loveland gala together last year, I knew there was something there!!

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tooktiktook 8 minutes ago

um. isn’t this kind of an odd combo?

cheribb 5 minutes ago

@tooktiktok I thought so too but they look pretty cute together. I mean…he totally blushed when he saw her! And his eyes went so soft!

tooktiktok 4 minutes ago

@cheribb Well, she seems sweet but I think he was just being nice.

By the time you were shuffled into a van and driven to the site of the fair, your nerves had mostly settled.

Of course, that may have had something to do with the pudding cup Victor had handed you once you were in your seats. Goldman had brought over a paper bag, with Victor plucking two cups from it like a magician with a hat. With that said, while it’s a trick you’ve seen many a time, it never fails to bring a sparkle to your eye.

With Arnold’s permission, you were more than happy to dig right in. Your makeup would have to be retouched once you got there even if you didn’t eat.

It was easy to relax in the steady familiarity of Victor’s presence. A dangerous notion, your unwavering faith in Victor, that dictated everything would be okay if he was there because he would either make it so, or you, with confidence half-drawn from him, would make sure of it yourself.

It was only once you were halfway through the treat, humming and wiggling in your joy, that you realized Victor hadn’t started on his. Rather, his eyes were fixed firmly on you, intent in observing your devouring of the pudding.

The next bite went down a little heavier as you turned to him.

“Is something wrong?” Your enthusiasm surely couldn’t have come as a surprise.

He hesitated, seemingly on the verge of saying something, before clearing his throat and looking out he the window at the slow-moving traffic.

“No. Just…eat slowly,” he muttered, refusing to look at you. You squint at him, at the pink creeping up the back of his neck, sucking on the spoon thoughtfully. “There’s no need to rush.”

“Sorry. I got a little too excited.” Your laugh is a little hollow, and you muffle it with another mouthful of the soft, sweet dessert, missing his quick glance back at you.

He sighed, sudden and a little ragged.

“No, I meant that you should take your time and savour it,” he told you, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. “I can make it for you anytime, so there will be many more chances in the future.”

The next spoonful remained frozen by your mouth as you struggled to process his words. Warm fingers came to rest against the back of your hand, guiding it, and the spoon, to your lips. Your skin tingled, but what was more damning was the way he held your gaze as your lips parted, the metal spoon warm against your tongue as you tasted the sweet delicacy.

It felt all the more sweeter, however, because of the little smile dancing across Victor’s lips.

You were rescued from attempting to respond to that by the van slowing to a stop, with Jason and Homer climbing in before they got moving again. Homer would be the one following you around the fair, as they only needed to get a few takes of you indulging in various activities.

“We absolutely need one with the ferris wheel, of course. A little cliched, but still damn cute. Maybe we can fix a camera in the cabin…” Jason trailed off, turning to Homer for his input. “If you think it’ll be better without you there.”

‘How would it be better without Homer there?’ you wanted to protest. ‘I’ll screw it up if left to my own devices! Professional environment aside, that’s a little too romantic!’

Something prickled at the back of your neck, and you realized Victor seemed to be trying to get your attention, albeit in a very silent way you probably wouldn’t have caught on to if you hadn’t spent so much time studying him.

He said nothing even when you met his gaze, but a reassuring warmth calmed you all the same. I’ll be there, he seemed to say. Trust me.

You were worried about the romantic atmosphere getting to your head, but surely Victor, the ultimate voice of reason, wouldn’t let you get carried away?

“Okay, we won’t crowd you guys too much, but remember to avoid turning away from the camera!”

That had been the last thing Jason said to you both before he retreated to his place behind Homer, who was ready with the camera propped over his shoulder. Your mics were affixed to your clothes, and people were already beginning to shoot curious looks your way. It wasn’t an uncommon sight; many vloggers and people working for food channels could often be found in places like these, flitting about with their cameras out as they partook in the activities available.

While being around cameras was nothing new, it was a little strange to be on the other side of them. Nervousness weighing on your chest, you reminded yourself over and over: be natural, don’t act like a lovesick fool, don’t stare at Victor for too long. Turning to the man himself as Homer adjusted the camera settings, hoping to draw inspiration from his steadfast composure, you could only stare in confusion at the intent way in which he was staring at the entrance to the fair.

Following the trajectory of his gaze, you squinted, hoping to see what had caught his attention. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, with people milling about, the welcoming sign high above their heads bright and welcoming.

“Victor?”

“Hm?”

“Is everything okay?” you asked hesitantly, and he nodded, almost distracted.

“Are we ready?” he asked Homer, who gave him a thumbs up.

Jason grinned at you, winking in what he seemed to think was a discreet manner. “Have fun, you two.”

You couldn’t quite pretend there were no cameras, not with Homer keeping up with you as you began to walk through the entrance arch. Looking at Victor was easier, just to block out the awareness of your companions, of course.

Catching your nervous glances, he inclined his head towards you and made an abortive movement, hand rising and falling midway. His jaw clenched, and then he offered you his arm, elbow bent.

As your hand curled around his arm, you focused on your vibrant surroundings. A task made more difficult when, after a short pause, you felt him tuck his elbow into his side, the broad span of his shoulders relaxing when you tightened your grip.

“I’ve been meaning to come here for years, but never really got the chance to,” you told Victor, your voice still edged with nervousness. But Victor nodded at you again, the usual stern line of his mouth quirking up, and your mind stuttered, committing itself to memorizing the precious curve of his mouth.

“In that case I’m glad we got to come here together,” he told you, and it took a good deal of effort not to gape at him. “It’s a first for both of us.”

You nodded, stunned by this unforeseen acting prowess. Seemed like you’ve discovered another one of his many talents.

“Hopefully, it’s the first of many,” he added, a smug lilt to his voice, and this time, you did gape.

“Y-yeah,” you answered, face heating up as you turned away for the sake of your dignity. “Hopefully.”

bandanaman @headaccs

are we all seeing this?? he’s such a gentleman!! I was not expecting this man to be smooth. #HopefullyYours

mintmadness @mintsallover

@headaccs HAVE YOU SEEN HIM? He doesn’t even need words, one look and I would be on my knees. #HopefullyYours #VictorLi

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srirachafire @hotsauce

@mintsallover calm yo thirsty ass down lmao

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raspberrydream @berryberry

“the first of many” omg what does he mean???? #HopefullyYours

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freshasnow @crystalmoon

Yeah, I’m not really feeling this. I thought we were going to get Kai and Hollow this week? #HopefullyYours

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teatime ✓ @spillit

For those of you asking, yes, we knew Victor Li and Y/n were going to be on Hopefully, Yours. Don’t worry darlings, we’ll have some quality tea for you soon! #HopefullyYours

Spotting the first of the food vendors, you both headed over to it, peering at the fresh dumplings. The vendor straightened up at the sight of the camera, a benign smile spreading across his face when you asked him for permission to film, nodding and plating plump, steaming dumplings with the utmost grace.

Gordon, as he introduced himself, was more than happy to talk about his family business, their two restaurants in Loveland, while Homer took close-ups of the dumpling that Victor broke apart for a better look.

“My daughter comes here every year with me, insisting she can handle things by herself, but honestly, I just enjoy coming here,” he chortled, before fixing the two of you with a knowing look. “It’s a completely different atmosphere from the restaurant! And it’s always nice to see sweet young couples such as yourselves. Reminds me of my own fair dates with my wife…”

You couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Victor, who seemed content to chew on his snack. He caught your eyes, before his flickered over your head towards Homer and Jason. Inexplicably, his ears began to tint a deep crimson, as he swallowed with some effort and stepped closer to you.

It began to make sense when he lifted the other half of the dumpling to your lips, Gordon gasping an oh my! in the background, and even as your heart began to race, your eyes widening, you felt…bad. Jason had obviously asked him to do this, and you felt terrible about him having to embarrass himself like this. But he did it, and so you took a small bite of the dumpling, the juicy filling suddenly tasteless on your tongue.

And then there was a soft sensation on your chin, your eyes lifting to see Victor dabbing at your skin with a napkin, the little motion taking all his concentration until he stepped back with a satisfied glint in his eyes, which seemed to linger around your mouth.

When you were unable to do anything more than flush deeply and try to stammer out a thank you, Jason ended the shot.

The glint in Victor’s eyes didn’t fade, and something within you quivered.

raspberrydream @berryberry

he looks like he wants to eat HER #HopefullyYours

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bandanaman @headaccs

@berryberry I CAN’T BREATHE. I thought he was going to kiss her LOL. And she looked so nervous and then he just wiped her chin THIS IS TOO SOFT I CANT #HopefullyYours

mintmadness @mintsallover

god I wish that were me #HopefullyYours

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only4food @bananabread

Okay I HAVE TO go to this place. I NEED TO EAT EVERYTHING. Who’s in??

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midnightmachine @musiclover

Gordon knows what’s up. We stan a hard-working man. #HopefullyYours

Things continued in much the same direction. With no signs of reluctance, Victor rolled up his sleeves and dived into the bustle of the fair. And with his hand curled around your wrist, you couldn’t bring yourself to doubt him. You’ve learned to read the signs of his displeasure, subtle and obvious, and they were nowhere to be found. He looked relaxed, trying out mini doughnuts, accompanying you to any shops you want to browse, frowning when you looked longingly at the ring toss.

“Let’s go,” he said, guiding you over to the booth. Well, you were supposed to try out the games too, but you hadn’t thought Victor would agree to play them. It seemed a little too childish for him.

“I haven’t come here in years either,” he told you when you looked at him curiously, the two of you standing in line with Homer right next to you. “I love my job, but I admit it takes up most of my time. I rarely have time to indulge like this.” He paused, as if wanting to say more, but his eyes flicked towards Homer and he ended it there.

While a part of you was startled in by his words, another softened at his truthful admission.

Victor seemed to have thought of something else, giving you a meaningful look. “But, of course, I always make time for the people in my life.”

You blinked, a little taken aback by sudden turn in direction.

“Even if they want to come to places like these, I don’t mind.” Victor seemed to be hinting heavily at something, and you smiled at that, almost excessively fond. Because it’s true that Victor makes time for the people in his life, especially his family. And even for you—he’s there for you, no matter how small the matter might be; huffing and puffing and going out of his way to help you.

Falling for someone like that, someone who effuses such stoic confidence and noble compassion in equal measure, it was all too easy.

“Then we’ll make sure to come again,” you told him, a wide grin blooming across your face at the thought. It was unlikely that it would actually happen, but it was nice to think about. You stepped up to the cashier, greeting him politely.

You finally got your turns after fifteen minutes, with Homer and Jason taking a quick snack break while you waited. You’d run a quick eye over the prizes available, quickly drawn to two pusheen cat plushies, a soft grey and a dark ebony. You didn’t think he’d judge you on camera, but would it really be okay to admit that’s what you want? The hair pin would be a more sophisticated pick, something more to his tastes.

Silently despairing over your proclivity for soft cute things, you turned to Victor for his choice.

Only to realize he seemed to have taken his jacket off while you were preoccupied and handed it over to Jason, his thin black t-shirt fitting him like a glove—and your words died a swift death at the back of your throat, shrivelling in the sudden dryness of your mouth. Silhouetted against the light of the late afternoon sun, his features seemed sharper, his gaze keener as he twirled the ring in his hands carefully.

As Homer began to roll the camera, and Victor prepared to toss the ring, you panicked with the realization that he didn’t ask you which prize you wanted like Jason had asked him to.

The ring landed around a bottle with a loud clink, and you hoped the surprise you felt wasn’t clear in your loud cheer. With the look he gave you, you knew he caught it even if others wouldn’t.

And then he handed you the dark pusheen plushy, which you took with trembling fingers and a sheepish smile. “Oh, thank you.” It was exquisitely soft to the touch. “This is the one I wanted.”

“Hm.”

“It looks like you.”

“What-” His head snapped toward you as you laughed, clutching the toy to your chest. Whatever outraged retort he’d been about to spit out was held back as he saw you hugging it contentedly, your eyes twinkling at him. “…I suppose.”

You handed him the toy, rolling your shoulders as you were given the ring. “Which one do you want?”

“I’m fine with anything,” he said, eyes locked on the grey pusheen plushy, the other half of the pair. So it was with a laugh, helpless in the face of his clear yet unspoken demand, that you tossed the ring. You got it on the second try, handing the toy to Victor with a triumphant grin, who took it primly and tucked it into his side.

“Thank you.”

“Isn’t this too childish by your standards?” you teased, unable to help it, but he only smirked down at you, stealing your breath with devastating ease.

“It is. But childish is…nice, sometimes,” he admitted carefully.

Your mind helpfully supplied you with all the instances of him calling you childish. “Oh?”

He shrugged, elegant, one shoulder lifting as he looked back down at the toy, before looking back up at you through dark, half-lidded eyes. “It’s grown on me.”

Kiro ✓ @kiromusic

Wow! This seems like so much fun, I kinda wish I got to go there too! :D @miracley/n invite me next time!! #HopefullyYours

Savin @agents

@kiromusic You just want to eat junk. And...well, I guess we can make an exception for today.

‎

bandanaman @headaccs

Before I proceed to scream over the clip, I just wanted to let y’all know I did some digging and apparently, they are friends! They’ve been spotted together in public many times, including the Loveland Gala last year. You know what this means. #HopefullyYours

bandanaman @headaccs

THE PUSHEEN TOYS. They won each other toys!! Y/n’s right, that does look like him with the dark fur lmao. BUT. Look at Victor’s heart eyes!! And she looked so happy omg T_T

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raspberrydream @berryberry

@headaccs NO WONDER. It seems like they already like each other but it seemed too soon!! They’re so cute omg please date!! #HopefullyYours

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bandanaman @headaccs

@berryberry With how they look at each other? I smell pining ;) I’ve compiled a list of all their public appearances. He even took her to Souvenir! How are they not dating????

‎

raspberrydream @berryberry

@headaccs DM ME!!!!

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srirachafire @hotsauce

@headaccs I feel like that’s a bit of a reach. They certainly seem comfortable with each other, but that could easily just be friendship, which is nice too. I feel like we should allow people to be friends instead of just shipping them.

‎

mintmadness @mintsallover

@hotsauce they’re on a dating show, though.

‎

srirachafire @hotsauce

@mintsallover yeah but plenty of other ‘couples’ were just friends or went on to be good friends. I just think these two are comfortable with each other, which is probably a good thing because Victor doesn’t strike me as the sort of person who can have fun with just anyone, you know?

You ended up having a lot more fun than you thought you would. Victor was always great company, but you could tell he’d tried his best to relax for the show and you didn’t know how to thank him for it. The warm gratitude bubbled up at the base of your throat, your heart sinking deeper into the ocean of affection you already held for him.

He’s so kind. His aloof demeanour, his nagging, his precise instructions and advice were things you’ve come to appreciate. But beyond those lies a heart so caring, so considerate, it made you yearn so deeply, to find yourself a place in it. But Victor had come to treat you as a friend and you could never ruin that because of your own feelings. It was precious, his friendship, and you wanted to treat it as such.

The line you’d drawn with so much care seemed to be straining, however, ever since you found out you would be riding the ferris wheel together, without Homer.

“The people in charge told us if we could just wait until closing time, they could keep things going until we’re done shooting!” Jason had told you as he briefed everyone. A bunch of the crew had left after packing up, as this would be the last take for the day. “That way Homer can fix the lighting and equipment in the cabin and won’t need to join you two! Give you some privacy, yeah?”

‘For what,’ you’d screamed internally, nodding along with a smile on the outside.

Looking to Victor for his opinion had been futile, because he seemed to have withdrawn into his own head, looking up at the ferris wheel absently. You were supposed to shoot the individual parts, but with how late it had gotten, Jason had asked the two of you to drop by the studio the next day. Only, you had a free slot in the morning while Victor would only be able to make it sometime during the late afternoon.

So you wouldn’t get to see what Victor said about you. That was perfectly fine. Things had gone well, and Victor wasn’t the sort to badmouth someone anyway.

It was supposed to be his day off. And he gave it up to participate in a show that was, for all intents and purposes, pointless for him. You felt terrible, heart aching at the thought that once again you had made him waste his time.

How on earth did Jason even get him to agree to this?

“You’re thinking something ridiculous,” came a low voice, and Victor seemed to have come back from his mental journey.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, the guilt getting to you.

“For what?” He seemed genuinely baffled, and it made you feel worse.

“For this entire day. You just came for a visit and now it’s after 8 pm and your day off is gone and you rarely get free time…” your shameful rambling tapered off as the furrow between his brows appeared to grow deeper and deeper.

His response was interrupted by a staff member, who came to let you know the ride was ready for you two. Walking together in complete silence, you wondered what he was about to say.

“Do you regret it?”

You arrived at the ride, and Victor had stopped in front of the open door. “What?”

“Do you regret it?” he repeated patiently, holding his hand out to you. “This entire day. Our date.”

Our date.

It was silly, how him calling it a date, with no cameras in sight, seemed to affect you so deeply. It was ridiculous but it was so real, how your heart fluttered and hope unfurled in the garden where you’ve buried your affection.

“Because I’m not sorry,” he added when you failed to do anything other than flush horribly. There was a question in his gaze, one you didn’t know how to answer, so with a deep breath, you focused on the one he’d asked out loud.

“No,” you said softly, your hand coming to rest over his as he helped you into the cabin. “I don’t regret it.”

How could you, when he was everything you wanted?

You settled on the plastic bench, watching Homer fiddle with the settings and light, making sure the camera’s fixed in place, basking in the heat emanating from Victor.

“Alright, that should work. You guys ready?” he asked.

“Yeah!”

“Yes.”

Homer stepped back to let Jason poke his head through the door. “We’re all set guys. Just call us if there are any problems. Be yourselves, don’t worry about the take. And remember, make sure to make it as romantic as possible!”

As the door closed behind him, with the camera rolling, silence rose to take the place of the sounds now cut off, the rest of the world falling away as the ride began and you began to ascend.

Outside the window, the stars shone in a twinkling blanket across the night sky, and Victor’s arm pressed into yours. Meeting his eyes was difficult, astoundingly so after the entire day you spent together.

This close, it would be so easy to let the words tumble from your lips. You didn’t know what your eyes could give away right now, and you were just as afraid of the softness in his gaze.

It looked too real.

“I’m glad we finally got some peace,” he muttered, and just like that a bright laugh broke out through your fear.

“This was not your kind of place at all, was it?” you said, snickering at the look he threw your way, because it’s so easy to make him huff like that.

“It was…lively,” he said, glaring at you as you stifle your smile behind your hand. “Exactly the kind of place you enjoy.”

“That’s true.”

“Then that’s that.” He shifted a little, trying to face you, his knee knocking into yours. “As long as you had fun, we’ll come again.”

Despite your warnings, your heart skipped a beat.

You tried to laugh it off, changing the subject to your childhoods, swapping lighter stories and carefully avoiding the heartbreaks. Your hands moved somewhere in between, in the dim lights, and your fingers had found each other’s. Make it romantic, Jason had said. That was the only reason. You talked about work, about Miracle Finder, about his public projects, how your busy lives don’t give you the chance to find love.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Victor cut in, still looking at you in that quietly dangerous away, his gaze a heated cloak over your skin.

You stilled. “You wouldn’t?” There was a tremor in your voice, one you hoped went unnoticed.

“I think, regardless of how busy we are, however reluctant…love finds us when it has to,” he said, his voice deep, unwavering, and you forgot how to breathe. Somehow, despite doing your best to avoid it, you had wound up on the proverbial cliff’s edge.

And it was time to take a leap.

“Victor...have you ever been in love?” you asked, part of you ready for his outrage, for him to brush it off with a roll of his eyes, and the other curling up in fear at the thought of the answer he might really give you.

He hummed, tightening his grip on your hand when you tried to tug it back, searching your face. His thumb swept over your knuckles, rubbing gently, and you wondered if he was preparing you for heartbreak.

“Yes. I have.”

Kiki @kikiki

@smilingwillow WHAT THE FUCK

‎

Anna @miracletv

@kikiki Language.

‎

Kiki @kikiki

‎@miracletv did you see the episode?? im going to collapse WHERE IS BOSS @miracley/n

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raspberrydream @berryberry

DID HE JUST???? OH MY GOD @headaccs DID YOU SEE THIS? ARE YOU OKAY? #HopefullyYours

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bandanaman @headaccs

THIS MAD LAD ACTUALLY DID IT. @berryberry I will never recover from this #HopefullyYours

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srirachafire @hotsauce

@headaccs @berryberry He just said he’s been in love before. He didn’t say he’s in love with her lol

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raspberrydream @berryberry

@hotsauce what will it take for you to finally see the light

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mintmadness @mintsallover

I could listen to this man talk all day. Y/n, you’re one lucky girl <3 #HopefullyYours

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cocoloco @chocolatedelite

I’m late to the party but lmao at everyone freaking out. Uhhh honestly I’m not sure. These things are usually scripted. They could just be faking it. #HopefullyYours

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srirachafire @hotsauce

@chocolatedelite Thank you!!!!

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victorshoe @mrsli

My heart is broken but their cuteness has mended it. I’ll give them my blessings. #HopefullyYours

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bandanaman @headaccs

oh thank god they just uploaded the individual bits!!! THANK YOU @jtv

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bandanaman @headaccs

...wait

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raspberrydream @berryberry

‎‎omfg

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bandanaman @headaccs

????? IS THAT IT??? COME BACK @jtv that can't be it!!

Thank you for reading!

MC/You: it’s a fake date. chill.

Victor: Goldman I need NINE roses and an outfit that makes me look like a sex god I HAVE A DATE

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc fanfic #mr love queen's choice #mr love li zeyan #mlqc victor x reader #queue are my sunshine

374 notes · View notes

the-alice-of-hearts · 3 years

Text

Kids Again Ch 4

He's always running with no one to keep warm

Two years she watched him run the rooftops and do his best to live up to the image that Bruce had, it wore heavy on him.

She saw him get more reckless, and hurt more often. It was like he was running in circles, he was trying so, so hard to be better. She couldn’t even tell if he knew that’s what he was doing. So she stayed in his head as much as she could, making sure that he didn’t die on her.

Marinette came to class with bags under her eyes. Her friends watched her up her coffee intake, she moved everyday like she knew something bad was going to happen. She got quieter, more clumsy. She would be there one moment and then in Gotham the next. Kim walked next to her, made sure he was ready to catch her. Alix went with Marinette any place the boys couldn’t. They watched over her; made sure that she didn’t get hurt.

“Mari?” Alix had asked her in a small voice one day, “when did you sleep last?”

The four of them were lying on her floor, working on homework like they always did. Kim and Nino looked over to see her response.

“What day is it today?” Marinette stalled for time, hoping that it hadn’t been too long. They got overprotective when she went too long with sleeping, and it wasn’t something she wanted to deal with today. Unfortunately it looked like they weren’t going to answer until she did. She sighed loudly, “I think I got a decent amount on thursday. Slept almost 5 hours before... waking up.”

Kim reached over to hug her, they all knew what was unsaid. She woke up in pain, scared, and hurting.”

Nino came closer as well, “Netté, today is wednesday.” He reached out and held her hands, “go to sleep. We will watch out for you. He usually naps before patrol anyways yeah?”

She rubbed her eyes, “yeah... he does… but we still have homework to finish.”

Alix grabbed the papers that Marinette was reaching for, “and we can finish our own work then help you with yours after you nap.”

Marinette bit her lip trying to stay alert enough to protest, “you’ll fail english without me.”

Kim laughed and tapped his fist on her head, “at the rate you’re going we’ll fail with you too. Please em gái, take a nap. Just a short one will do.” ((Vietnamese: little sister))

---

With that they convinced her to go lay down. The three of them looked at each other, Alix spoke up first, “what do we do if…”

“If he dies.” Nino picked up the train of thought, “I don’t know that we can do anything.”

“I swear to any of the gods listening, if he hurts her, I will kill him myself.” Kim looked at Mari. She was sleeping heavily, but he could see her start to toss and turn. “He’s already giving her nightmares.”

“All we can do is be steady for her. She needs us to be strong, so we will be. Alix, do you think your dad will let you stay here for a while?” Nino had started planning out all of this weeks ago.

Alix nodded, “yeah I think he’s about to go to an excavation site soon anyways. My brother would be glad to not have to look after me.”

“Good. Kim, can you run interference with the teachers? This is hard enough on her, we don’t need her to have extra stress on her plate.”

“Yeah I can take care of that.” Kim was still looking at her so he saw when she finally let out a sigh and settled down, “how do we make her sleep though?”

“I can help with that.” Sabine had climbed up to check in on then and heard the conversation taking place, “We have her with a therapist, and it will be easy enough to get her prescribed meds for her anxiety and to help her sleep. It’ll just be a matter of making sure she takes them.”

Nino nodded at her, “We can make sure she’s taking them in the morning. I have to take mine each morning and evening on a schedule as well as needed for worse times. I can help there.”

Sabine smiled at him, “thank you Nino, that would help a lot. Alix you can stay here as long as you want, but if it gets to be too much please let us know.” She took on a stern voice, “You shouldn’t have to bear this alone. None of you are to take on more than you can handle. I know you want to help her, but you’re all kids too. I’m not above banning you from the house if I think you are putting too much stress on yourselves.” She reached out to grasp Nino’s hand, “I mean it. I know you know very well what she is going through, but your mom and I have a deal.”

Nino smiled back, “yes ma’am. I promise.”

Sabine stood up from where she had sat near them, “With that settled, who wants to help me bring up some food for everyone. You all should eat, and Marinette will need to eat when she wakes up.”

Kim offered to go help her. After they left Nino turned to Alix, “you have to make sure she’s taking her meds at night. She won’t want to, and she will try to hide it. But you have always known us better than we know ourselves. You have to make sure she takes them.”

Alix nodded at him grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze, “You know I will. Found family, right?”

“Found family.” he repeated the vow.

---

Marinette stopped talking one day. She was getting sleep, but she still wasn’t in Paris enough. So she stopped talking. If she didn’t say anything then people noticed less when she left in the middle of a conversation.

No one else at school noticed. Well no one but Chloé, but even she knew that this was off limits for teasing. Chloé may have become a bitch to Marinette for no known reason, but she knew the limits on what was too far.

Mariette went silent so Kim got louder. The three hoped that if the teachers were focused on him being a clown that they wouldn’t notice Marinette not participating in class. Kim and Alix started a ‘rivalry’, making sure that any eyes that might stray to Marinette would land back on them. Nino had Marinette sit next to him so he could take notes for her, and nudge her if a teacher was looking at her. He also had the worst job, making her actually take her anxiety meds. Alix and Kim played distraction, Nino played mother hen.

Marinette from a year ago would still have complained. She would have reminded them that she was a big girl and she could take care of herself. This wasn’t Marinette from a year ago, this was their best friend so scared for her soulmate’s life that she couldn’t take her eyes off of him.

---

Then something unexpected happened.

Marinette spoke up during their study session unprompted for the first time in weeks, “He’s not Robin anymore.”

Alix sharply looked up from where they had been laying, “What?”

They all hesitated waiting for Marinette to continue, “Bruce saw his stitches, he... well he blamed Jason.” She scoffed at the thought, “like the asshole didn’t drive him into his recklessness.”

“Netté, what happens now?” Nino was always the first one to speak up.

“Bruce said that he was wrong, that he shouldn’t have trusted Jason as Robin. He ran away. He’s stronger now, so being on the streets isn’t as dangerous. But he’s back out there. He went to one of his old hideouts. I don’t know what he’s doing next…” she trailed off and they all waited for her next thought.

The boys had both moved closer, Alix was still laying on their back looking up at Marinette. They all knew that when her thinking face came out they needed to wait for her to speak up.

She took a deep breath, “I need you guys to help me get him here. I know it’s a lot to ask, and I totally understand if you can’t help me, but it’s just-“

“How are we going to do that?” Kim asked her, cutting her off. They were all willing to do whatever it took to make Marinette smile again.

She stared at him for a moment, her mouth in a perfect O, “you’ll really help?”

Alix nudged her leg, “found family right?”

Marinette smiled at that, “yeah, found family.”

She laid out her plan. It would take them all because it involved smuggling Marinette to Gotham, and her parents would notice if she started acting unusually in front of them.

It only took a week to get things together. Alix had convinced their dad that they were looking into a historical artefact in class and wanted to prove their teacher wrong so they needed to go to America with Marinette as a witness. He bought the story easily, believing Alix when they told him they needed to take Marinette specifically because she knew the city better. Reminding him that her soulmate grew up there. So with two plane tickets the plan was finally in motion. Kim had been bringing his gym bag empty to the group study sessions so that Mari could pack clothes in it. Nino had a suitcase that he had smuggled out when his parents weren’t home. All of it was slowly collected at Alix’s house. Since their dad was still out of town they only had to drop home to take care of their plants, so it made it a really easy place to keep things.

Then it took another week for their departure date. For the entire two weeks Marinette had been so focused on going to Gotham that she didn’t notice that Jason had been blocking her. Later she would know that he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

They were at school the day before they would be on their way to Gotham when Mari checked in on Jason, making sure that she could find him. Hoping that he was in a place that she would easily be able to find him. He wasn’t. He wasn’t even in Gotham. He was in a desert, with a woman. She looked a little like Jason, but his mom had died… and this wasn’t Catherine.

Marinette looked up at Kim with fear in her eyes, “Something is wrong.” she said it quietly. With Alix’s hearing, Kim’s ability to read lips, and Nino sitting next to her it was easy to be sure that they all knew something was happening.

Kim acted fast, shooting a rubber band at Chloé made her stand up and start yelling. That provided enough distraction for Alix to get over to Marinette’s other side. With Nino and Alix surrounding her, and Kim playing distraction she was able to completely follow Jason. It wasn’t good, he was with the woman. He called her mom, guess that explained why he wasn’t in Gotham. When Joker appeared Marinette gasped.

_____________________________________

She was loud enough that Rose and Juleka looked over at her. Alix shielded Marinette’s body as much as they could, trying to make sure that no one could see her face. The terror on it shouldn’t be seen by anyone else. They took care of each other, and Marinette would be mortified if she found out someone else knew what she was going through. But not even with the combined efforts of all three of their strengths could they keep the attention off of her when the screaming started.

It was like listening to a horror movie. Marinette’s screams ripped through the classroom. If you asked anyone to describe it they would tell you it was like being in a room that was filled with terror.

“Everyone get out!!” Chloé yelled loudly. Alix looked up at her in surprise, not expecting Chloé of all people to help. Between Chloé and Kim they got the classroom cleared in less than a minute. “I’m gonna stand outside the door so no one comes in. Just, take care of her yeah?” with that she walked out of the room and closed the door. They could see her shadow still there. True to her word no one came in the classroom. Unfortunately everyone in their hall could hear the screams.

“Netté, please. You have to listen to my voice. You have to come back, come back to Paris. You don’t want to see this. Please come back to us.” Alix finally clued back into Nino’s voice. He was trying to get her to come back, but it didn’t seem to be working.

____________________________

Marinette wasn’t listening to Nino, she was caught in this moment. Watching Joker beat Jason, his blood spilling out on the floor. Then something happened that opened everything. Her mother had once told her that some soulmates could talk to each other in times of crisis, and this would count as one.

She could hear Jason’s voice, ‘please let me pass out, please let me pass out, she doesn’t deserve to see this, please whatever deity might be listening let me pass out!’

Then she heard others in the link, ‘Jay bird! Please tell me you’re there! Little wing I’m trying to get there faster, but you have to wake up. There’s a bomb, you have to get up. Jay you have to get up now! You have to go to the door.’

“Jason please! Please wake up. We need you, we need you to wake up. I need you!” Marinette didn’t realise she had spoken out loud, but she would feel that her friends were all holding her.

‘You don’t really know me, but please live for us. We all need to meet you one day.’

“Jason you have to get to the door.” She was sobbing now.

‘Jay, wake up!’

He started moving, crawling towards the door. For a moment she had hope that he would make it. She could feel everyone pleading with the gods to just get him out of there alive. Then he tried the door, it was locked. He didn’t have enough strength or time to get out of there, ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never got to love you Marinette.’

If she hadn’t already been in Kim’s lap she would have fallen to the ground. All the energy in her body was gone. It was like a huge chunk of her had been ripped out.

“Mari, can you hear us?” she heard Alix’s soft voice.

“Netté, we need you to talk to us.”

Her sobs had turned into a hysterical laugh, “he’s dead!” She looked at Nino, still crying but becoming worse by the moment, “the fucking clown killed him!”

Kim was running his hands through Marinette’s hair, all three of them waited for her to break back down. They had gone through it with Nino, they would be just as steady for Mari.

After her laughing turned back to sobs Kim wrapped his arms around her again. Holding her tight, “we’re here for you em gái. We’re here.”

“He’s dead… Jay’s dead…” she sniffled turning to press her face into Kim’s chest, “and his last thought was of me.”

Nino and Alix had moved in and were hugging her now too. “Netté, I promise, it gets easier.”

#maribat #jasonette #soulmates #Kids again fic

38 notes · View notes

skznct127treacting · 5 years

Text

My Stalker - Bang Chan (1/4)

October. A time for endulging in whimsicals fancies of corporate candies, horror movies, spooks that are camp and creeps that are chilling and for your small town - the Halloween carnival. The carnival had been a tradition for as long as you could remember, coming for the weeks leading up to Hallowe’en, with the main attraction being a haunted house - the likes of which had won numerous TV awards for being one of the scariest attractions in the country, with it being particularly popular amongst your age pool - adolescents and young adults.

You, yourself had never been. Perhaps it just wasn’t something of interest to you, or perhaps you were, like all your friends said - scared. What was there to be scared of? Well a lot. There’s a clown room for one, a maze room with a masked chainsaw man chasing you, a serial killers basement… need I go on?

Regardless. This year. The year of 2019, was slightly different. Because one of the scare actors had caught your attention. Bang Chan. He had started the year late, but had somehow managed to weasel his way into your classes course. He was reserved and quiet, kept to himself mostly. He sat at the front of the class and was always early, he didn’t volunteer much but got 100% on almost any test he took. When people tried to engage with him he would laugh and be sarcastic and cynical and look at them with such intensity that you could swear he was burning a hole right through their skull - it was a look of superiority and confidence. Most people didn’t see that though, they just took his jokes at face value, but there was something cutting about them, something with an aura of uncomfortable truth to them.

He favoured dark clothes, sportswear mainly, he had an athletic build and was constantly slouching, making him appear shorter than he actually was.

The first week you didn’t talk to him much, not having a reason to, but then the most peculiar thing happened. A week after he arrived you broke one of your pencils in your bag, it must have been crushed by your lunch, or your water bottle, or the endless notepads and folders you carry. Regardless, you put it on your desk intending to bin it after class but forgot to pick it up.

The next day however, after class ended Chan pulled you to the side just as you were leaving, as you felt his heavy hand on your shoulder and turned to see he had your pencil - perfectly fixed and glued together, so meticulously that you couldn’t even trace the cracks.

“You should be more careful Y/N,” He teased, in his charming but acidic way as you stood there confused and unable to process why he had done this for you.

“Is this my pencil from yesterday?” You asked rolling it between your fingers, surely he had just bought another one or given you a spare. Which was equally weird, but hey it was a more logical explanation.

“What? No?! I fixed it for you Y/N,” he said - drawing out your name again as though enjoying the way it tasted. “I’ve seen you use that one a lot, it’s a pretty cool pencil with the sparkles and rainbows. It’s cute.”

Now your face had been peppered with a pink blush, the strange compliment leading your wave of confusion to be overlapped with that of fluster.

“I’m Chan by the way,” He said loudly as though intending for you to hear his name. To remember it. You already knew his name of course, having been curious about him for some time. Your friends had done the whole social media stalk and found his facebook page filled with pictures of nights out with his friends, photos at the beach, his dog, his soccer activities. Your friends Josie and Eve were already in relationships though, and having seen the slight gleam in your eye when looking at his pictures - well, they both tried to push you into speaking to him.

“Oh well nice to meet you. I saw you moved halfway through September, that must have been tough for you. How are you settling?” You asked putting the pencil in your pocket staring up at him only to look away, as though his bright glare was like that of the sun.

“It’s been alright so far, I’ve managed to catch up with classes,” He shrugged moving restlessly from side to side. “Well some of them…”

“I thought you were doing really well all things considering you seem to be getting full marks.” You smiled at him, and for the first time you saw his smile, as he beamed back at you. It was the type of smile that lit up his face and made him appear less intimidating, it was at this exact moment that you felt your heartbeat jump.

“Yes well from speaking to people everybody says your the best at this module, which isn’t surprising, I mean the only times I’ve seen you outside class you’re always in the library studying,” He said still with that charismatic smile, his movements becoming more animated, it was like as though for the first time you were meeting the real him. Of course this second outburst of compliments only deepened your rouge cheeks to scarlett.

“I mean I know some of it but-”

“Well if I ever get stuck I know who to come to for tutoring. Besides your in my debt now,” He smirked looking down at the pocket you had put your pencil in. “Well I’ll see you round Y/N~”

And as he set off the oddest thought crossed your mind… how did he know your name? I mean you had found his out through him telling it to other people when he introduced himself but he had never witnessed no such interaction on your part. He didn’t even sit near you. And what was with the pencil? Who does that?? Why??? Why does he need help? Why did he arrive late to school? All the while your head felt light, dizzy with the interaction, you had never acknowledged his looks and charm for yourself before, you had never felt like this before, nobody had taken such notice of you before. All the while Chan’s footsteps paced the hallways growing lighter, his smile widening, for he knew all the answers to your questions.

That had been the first interaction, and after you had told Josie and Eve they brushed off the whole pencil thing as creepy, along with him, he was a creep, and they took back every good word they had ever said about him. The three of you were out that day, rummaging through shops for a decent Hallowe’en costume, it may only be the start of term but everybody’s mind was on the Monsters Bash on the 31st October which your school was running, it was to be an outside ball on the sports field with marquees and fairy lights and bunting, cheap alcohol would be provided along with Hallowe’en candy and students were already planning where they would pre drink and where the after parties would be and the buzz was only intensifying as the event neared.

“Slutty witch, slutty nurse, slutty cat, slutty clown… huh slutty scooby doo,” Josie rattled as she sorted through the outfits on the railings. She was a tall girl with a lithe build, long brown hair, pale skin and with an effortless beauty that you envied, she could make anything look stunning. Even a slutty scooby doo costume.

“Imagine how many people are going to go as the Joker this year,” Eve said, rolling her eyes as she stood on the opposite side of Josie, she was the shortest of the three of you with dyed red hair that was constantly in some type of complicated braid, with her sweater sleeves always pulled over her hands and her shoes always a worn out pair of black converse.

“I know! I’ve already had to persuade Jack that we’re are not going as Harley and the Joker, I upset him, and now we’re not doing a couple costume anymore.” Josie pouted.

“Same!! Me and Daniel couldn’t agree, I’ve told him for the millionth year that I’m not dressing up as Sally and Jack. It’s just so unoriginal.” Eve shot back with equal passion.

You stood there unable to contribute to such talk of relationships as your mind swirled to thoughts of Chan, what would he dress as this year? Would he even attend the Bash, did he even have anybody to go with? Like sure he had friends, but he didn’t have friends that he could go with. The thought of inviting him crossed your mind, but that was wayyy too ahead of yourself, but perhaps, if you talked to him more and got closer maybe you could go together. Maybe for once you wouldn’t be the 5th wheel in your friendship group.

“What are you going to go as Y/N?” Josie said pushing all the clothes on the railing to one side in dismay as you left the shop.

“Hm I’m not sure yet,” You said pausing your train of thought on Chan.

“Well I got an idea looking at that scooby doo costume.. how cute would it be if we went as the Hex Girls from that show, we can have our own couple costumes,” Eve piped up as Josie shook her head.

“No way! Who's going to get that reference?” Josie replied.

“Erm.. the intellectuals!” Eve laughed. “And if we don’t win best costume, I’ll literally sue the school.”

“So you’d be Luna, I’d be Thorn and Y/N can be Dusk?” Josie said, slightly coming round to the idea.

“Oh my god it’ll be soooo cute!” Eve gushed as you just nodded your head.

So that was that on October 31st 2019 you and your 3 friends were going to the Monsters Bash as a 90s goth girl group from Scooby Doo, if that didn’t win round Chan.. what would??

Well after that shopping trip at the weekend Monday rolled around. It was the first day that you’d see Chan again since your class together on Thursday and you had spent the whole weekend playing out scenarios in your head like a bad fanfic. When you arrived to class you were surprised to see he hadn’t arrived yet which was verrry unusual for him so you sat in your usual seat towards the back and began to unpack your stuff. Too focused on this activity you had barely noticed somebody come and pull a seat next to you as you looked up to see Chan.

It may be because you had gotten a crush on him but damn he was looking way more handsome than you thought he was. His dark eyes glanced at you as his dark brown hair, had been dyed a sludgy green over the weekend which was the first thing you complimented him for, it framed his face differently to his blonde hair, made him seem even more mysterious and alluring, his cheekbones more defined, his jaw sharper, his hair cut shorter slightly as you noticed several ear piercings down his ears.

“Good morning Y/N,” he said cheerfully, although you could see how tired he was from the shadows under his eyes and a sheepish paleness to him.

“How was your weekend?” You asked, only thinking now that maybe it was a bit forward that he had just sat next to you today, with it being the only day he had been late, but those thoughts were pushed out with concerns for him and thoughts of his looks and your curiosity and- and- and-

“It was decent. I had a lot of practice to do though. I somehow managed to get a job at the ghost house and we’ve been doing rehearsals all weekend,” He said slamming his notebooks onto the table next to yours. You noticed him pull out a little red notebook by accident which he quickly shoved to the bottom of his bag which he kicked to the ground and under the desk. “What about you?”

“Oh that’s so cool. I’ve never been to the ghost house myself but I love the carnival. Well we went costume shopping for the bash but didn’t find anything, but we decided what we wanted to be though,” You said, subconsciously smiling at him.

“Whose we?” He asked raising his eyebrows.

“Oh just my friends Josie and Eve, they’re in different classes to me,”

“And you’re going as….?”

“We are going as the Hex Girls if you know who that is, I’m going to be Dusk, you know blonde hair, green dress.. The drummer..”

“That’ll be really cute,” He nodded as you felt that dizzy feeling again from his compliments, you were about to reply but with that class had begun.

#bang chan #chan #stray kids #hyunjin #seungmin #woojin #jeongin #changbin #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #stray kids reactions #skz

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rkkyul · 5 years

Photo

운명을 찾아낸 둘이니까 190725 MGA SEASON 5 + EPISODE FIVE + #5050 FEATURING : CHOI MINHO & JEON HEEJIN ⟨ ━━ ❀ ° PART ONE: PERFORMANCE, BBOOM BBOOM + DNA ( 0:00 - 1:55 ) ⟩

her mouth is full of chunks of noodles but she speaks anyway, hand raised to her mouth in an attempt to make the action appear a little less nasty than it actually was. “honestly - i don’t mind.” her pink hair waves with the rapid shaking of her head - adding on to the fact that they were all practically saying the same thing. “dancing, singing, it’s whatever! just don’t make me rap, please?” and that was a personal plea.

an invitation from minho brought the trio to a restaurant that kyulkyung was just so in love with. they gathered in hopes of getting to know one another better and figure out exactly what they would be doing the rest of the week. and so far, this was going better than the woman could’ve hoped for.

when her pairing was once again announced first, it was hard to contain her excitement. this week she had truly hit the jackpot.

“i’ve danced this entire time, i’m sure everyone’s bored with it.” she jokes, pausing to take a sip of water amidst her devouring of her noodles. this certainly wasn’t her usual burger after thursday filming, but it did not disappoint. “i can sing, dance, do both!! it’s okay!”

in all honesty, she worried a bit about her performances on the show. were they becoming too repetitive? kyulkyung had yet to showcase any singing skill the entirety of her time on the show ( other than her audition ), and the fact made her nervous. sure, she was a good dancer, but wasn’t she more than that?

the woman kept these worries to herself, wanting to do what would be best for everyone rather than just herself. advancing was crucial for the whole team, not just two of them, and that involved some leniency when it came to selecting a performance. everyone needed to be comfortable, willing to share the spotlight equally and lucky for them, that was exactly the case.

❀

kyulkyung admittedly was not a morning person. usually bright and peppy, the woman could barely manage to crack a genuine smile when sleep still laced every nerve and muscle in her body. it was a tiny bit easier when she was walking with heejin - her hair messily tied up into a bun and face bare despite the cameras that awaited them in sphere’s practice room.

the thought of practicing in a company practice room was exciting to her, but the woman managed to keep her cool. she didn’t know much about many kpop idols, but knowing that practicing in these rooms meant that they were that much closer to the end was thrilling. it was hard to believe that they were going into episode five - that she was going into episode five.

she auditioned without worries, not thinking of how far she could actually make it and yet here she was - walking into a sphere practice room to prepare for the fifth episode’s performance, hopes high and soaring as wild as ever.

the pair are expecting minho to meet them at the practice room, but she is NOT expecting the fear that overcomes her when she sees something unexpectedly colorful and tall sitting ominously in the center of the room. kyulkyung pauses midstep - door pressed firmly against her palm and mouth open in shock as she stares at the... clown wig?

the woman looks around before narrowing her eyes at the mirror, biting down on her lip but unable to stop the smile that spreads across her lips when minho’s reflection stares back at her.

“heejin... should we be worried?” she whispers to the other girl, leaning a bit closer to her partner but eyes fixated on the clown wig that rests atop minho’s head.

“just one question.” she calls out into the room, “how long have you been sitting there like that?”

❀

practice for episode five was vastly different than the past week’s. kyulkyung was filled with worry while the environment that surrounded her this week proved to be vastly different. alongside having a trio that just genuinely got along and decided on their roles easily, the other group that shared the room with them made the experience that much more enjoyable. from facetiming suwoong from kyungsoo’s phone to eating the quiche he brought it, it was hard for the woman to have any type of worry.

not to mention changbin who just had to flatter her and boost her ego a thousand times over. “you’re one of the best dancers here!” and she just couldn’t help but hug him.

the thought crossed her mind at least once, maybe she was just having too much fun. but she just couldn’t help it.

the light-hearted nature of their performance made it easy to enjoy, but exciting to watch, the woman loved piecing it together, laughing over their mistakes but growing confident in their teamwork.

“oh my god, minho - heejin now!” kyulkyung gestured wildly to the younger girl who stood a wreck. her hair askew, flying in all directions because of the headgear that framed her eyes.”we have to protect her image! hurry!!” she was laughing but moving quickly to stick her face in front of the camera - making dumb faces at the lenses as minho took care of heejin’s mess. their practices involved a lot of this, a lot of laughs and food but also a lot of excitement.

she had done fun routines before, but none like this. it was easy to smile, genuine movements able to create an undeniably alluring performance.

and she couldn’t wait to show it.

❀

when filming came around, the woman couldn’t help the anticipation leading up to their stage. it was hard to sit still, becoming more thankful that they were the first trio to perform as she couldn’t imagine waiting much longer. similar to last week, kyulkyung hoped they could introduce episode five in a good way - set that bar high and expectations wild for the remained of the episode. performing first meant not having the pressure of following up a good stage and she’s sure that at this point in the competition, everything would be a good one.

the mashup they selected complemented each other nicely, the stage they formulated to bring fourth a lighthearted atmosphere which reflected the past week perfectly. “we didn’t forget the goggles and the controller did we?” she asks, hopeful eyes met with reassurance that they would do just fine.

“hello! we are the royal court!” the trio greeted, introducing episode five with bright eyes and a playful atmosphere. straightening out the colorful stripes decorating her crop top, kyulkyung pulls at the fabric - shifting her weight on her feet as she waits to introduce herself. she holds her head high and keeps her shimmering lips pulled into a smile when she introduces herself, switching to chinese to begin her introduction per usual. “hello! number 5050, zhou jieqiong here! we prepared something a bit more fun to watch this week, hope you like it!”

a stool is sat center stage while kyulkyung and minho move to their respective ends of the stage - the pair at the end of opposite runways while heejin moves to the center one. the trio had planned this out vigorously, coming up with a cute scenario for their performance that would certainly be entertaining to follow along. it isn’t hard to shift into the atmosphere of their routine, a naturally bubbly woman living for a song and performance as creative as theirs.

this week was vastly different than what she had shown with suwoong last week, and kyulkyung loved keeping everyone on their toes. what side of her would she show next? the mgas proved to be an excellent place for her to experiment the different sides of her dancing persona, the perfect platform to receive feedback and grow based on that. while last week seemed to have some mixed reviews, she cannot wait to show the her that she felt most comfortable in.

heejin’s walks towards the stool where their makeshift VR headset rests along with a controller, the “announcer’s” voice following shortly after.

JEON HEEJIN, SELECT A SONG TO CONTINUE

and so their performance begins - the song mashup turning up as kyulkyung and minho begin to slowly move up and down as characters do in the selection menu. she attempts a cute pose to match her song, bboom bboom’s bubbly lyrics and music bringing forth the darling in her.

“what are you doing? that’s my song that’s playing.” she speaks out, throwing on a pout and crossing her arms as she stares across the runway at minho, who counters with a no, it’s my song. she chose yours last time! before they’re rushing towards center stage.

지금 내 눈엔 눈엔 눈엔 네 어깨 무릎 발 (oh) 숨이 탁 막힐 것 같아 난 너만 보면

there were a lot of new experiences for kyulkyung this week. alongside relying on acting a bit more this week and usage of props, the woman was finally showcasing her singing on the show. the fact was exciting, but at the same time she couldn’t help but fear the reactions. she wasn’t a bad singer by any means, and most of her vocals this week were prerecorded anyways, but still, what if it’s worse than what everyone was expecting?

the thought worried her, but in all honesty, she didn’t care. the woman wasn’t a singer by any means; dancing was her overall best talent and the skill she always relied most on. but she had read comments of wanting something different and new besides all the dancing and what better way to show it? this week she was accompanied by heejin who arguable had one of the best voices on the show and minho who not only had a decent voice but knew how to perform with it as well. in all honesty, she had a bit of an advantage this week learning from them ( especially considering the fact that she was in no way embarrassed to ask for help ).

숨이 콱 막힐 것 같아 넌

the concept they went with was a bit easier skill wise than what she was used to, but was definitely more on the creative side. it was performances like this that she enjoyed best - loving being able to follow along with a story and watch the talent that matched it. heejin was playing a video game and kyulkyung and minho were the characters too busy fighting for her attention, wanting to be picked so they were constantly competing with one another. it was a bit ironic given their current situation, but nonetheless it was fun to perform.

because we’ve found our destiny - the two songs link up here, the two dancers pulling heejin into the game and taking her goggles and controller from her. up until this point, the other girl had been singing, contemplating her choice between minho and kyulkyung as they danced for her attention. as they tug her closer, she manages to pull the younger girl closer to her side - pushing minho out of the way and getting her to dance to bboom bboom with her.

give it to you my 눈눈눈눈눈눈 눈빛 쏟아지는 my 터터터터터터 터치

하나뿐인 my 럽럽럽럽럽 my luver 내 머리부터 뿜뿜

내 발끝까지 뿜뿜 뿜뿜 어

the two girls’ voices blend so well together, the soft tones complementing the song nicely as they dance together. kyulkyung’s character tries her best to make heejin forgot about minho and his stupid song because hers is so much better ( and definitely more fun ). this is the part where kyulkyung’s live vocals can finally be heard, not wanting to push it too much this week and instead relying more on prerecorded vocals for the characters - allowing heejin to take that spotlight but also giving her a chance to dance when they all come together.

이 모든 건 우연이 아니니까

minho manages to sneak up on the dancing pair, coming back into the frame as he pushes kyulkyung out of the way to begin dancing with heejin. at first, kyulkyung appears shocked but she just steps to the side and watches until the other girl notices minho had taken her place. the two meet eyes, confused and bewildered before they shrug. and finally the trio begins to dance together, letting that competition die and slowly bring their performance to an end.

just feel it 뿜뿜 네 앞에서 난 뿜뿜 네게 줄게 뿜뿜 뿜뿜 어( 운명을 찾아낸 둘이니까, DNA )

give it to you my 눈눈눈눈눈눈 눈빛 쏟아지는 my 터터터터터터 터치

하나뿐인 My 럽럽럽럽럽 my luver 내 머리부터 뿜뿜

내 발끝까지 뿜뿜 뿜뿜 어

their performance ends and kyulkyung is catching her breath, smiling as always and feeling like she’s on top of the world. the adrenaline from their routine is slowly simmering down, but all she can think about is the satisfaction of a fun performance.

#rkmga5 #rkmga5trios #etc: italics are chinese #wc: 2076 #rkheejin #rkmason #rkkyungsoo #rksuwoong #rkxbin #FINALLY #❀ ° ～ once upon a time.#ALSO THANK YOU TO MEI FOR THE EDIT

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nochiquinn · 5 years

Text

campaign 2 episode 70: [slide whistle]

houston AND shanghai made the owl quarterfinals so I'm watching that too and considering photoshopping clown noses onto the outlaws

wait does matt not have his wristbands?

flashbacks to "he's playing a slide whistle, laura, what am I supposed to do?!"

okay I had the sound off and the caps are less than reliable: what the fuck did y'all do that made matt bring out the dad voice?

(I'm sure this will have been answered several times by the time I post this but I can't keep up with the tag during episodes)

"it's SUPER legit"

"no I can't do a german accent I suuuuuuuck"

okay monte is casting the shanghai game that shit's staying on mute

(thank you all for putting up with the overwatch league interstitials every other thursday)

fjord so help me god Y'ALL AIN'T DO SHIT you were just unable to STOP IT those are TWO DIFFERENT THINGS I'm gonna backslap a half-orc

"do you know what you're gonna say?" "no" "...cooooool"

alright, is it 25 words or 25 syllables bc it always seems like travis counts syllables

"this is the only moment honesty's worth anything" your percy is showing

laura looks like she's gonna throw up. same tbh.

my brain absolutely automatically filled in "and pixie dust"

"I don't mean to raise my voice" cad

"has anyone here had any experience being trusted?" oh honey

I feel like it's something to get hysterical about but go off I guess

dwane the roc johnson

"maybe these people aren't worth saving, we haven't even met them yet"

laura bailey crying means everyone cries

beau: "I don't respect authority" fjord: "I think we know that about you" beau: (￢_￢;)

"the bright ween" "very different character. long may he reign."

matt has a farmer's tan but for his wristbands

cool. cool cool cool. cool. coooool.

"your knack for accents" me: (←_←)

"probably was, I just don't remember" story of my goddamned life

"you have one good restaraunt and you KNOW you have one good restaraunt"

"I'm going to BUY them" "WOAH character development"

laura what in hell is that voice

I'm travis

this is fine. it's fine.

is she trying to sound like yasha? is that what this is?

sword's called the starblaster, got it

naNCY?

"but you kept the mcfancypants part?"

"don't be mean to yourself about accents" "those are hard"

oh NO jester has imposter syndrome

I mean she did commit mail fraud that time

empire kids ❤

mala: its the emotional equivalent of two people trying to high five and they keep missing and keep trying for 60 hours

volcanocon

FYREFEST

beau is going to fucking kill me

please for the love of god don't let fjord talk

y'all

nott

liam's faaaaace

The Newly Refurbished Dungeon That Was Once Bad

cravat

krav maga

dope queen

vogue queen

fjord quit being a dick

"your FACE is boring"

I am Concerned for caleb

(I am always Concerned for caleb)

haha I'm legit having an anxiety

WHAT WAS THAT MUSIC CHANGE

MATTHEW

oh of course he wouldn't have an accent in his native language, that makes sense

FUCK

FUUUUUUCK

caleb you DOPE

calEB

caleb you're going to give your whole shit away and they're going to FIND YOU

ballsacks

SEE. WHAT DID I SAY. WHAT DID I S A Y

I should really work on xhorhouse

yeza!

"just. just stay away from the water. it's fine."

"stop encouraging my husband to go in the water"

nooo

I'm not crying you're crying

(I'm crying)

CADUCEUS STORYTIME

"say a number!" says sam "old enough" riegel

"who the fuck is the raven queen?"

cad: rattles off a bunch of religious names and knowledge m9: the fuck

my secular-raised ass has never identified with with any group of characters more

"oh lord" same, taliesin

be nice to caleb he's having a day

someone drink with this boy

or hug him or SOMETHING

new tea +

taliesin: ROBBED

#critical role #crititag #reaction post #liveblog #spoilers

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clowngremlin · 5 years

Text

i have been neglecting my good things lists because i have been so tired or i forgot....so i will break it up into days!! under a cut because its long!!

wednesday:

-went to trans group and there were some new people and it was fun!!! we talked about art and shit and the guy who runs it introduced me to a parent who’s daughter is going to my school in the fall and also to talk to her a bit about bein trans!!! it was nice!!! then i took the bus home with some pals and it was nice!! i love going to group and like yesterday, my best friend said that all the kids think im really cool and look up to me and it just like warmed my heart!!!

-my best friend bought me mcdonalds!!!

-bought a delightful clown mug

not much else happened on wednesday tbh

-my dad showed me a delightful little dog that we are going to adopt!!!

thursday:

-got a garf sweat top AND a clown shirt!!! the clown shirt was $5 babey!!! i also got an e.t. necklace and some misc teeth!!!

-worked on my comic a lot and did got everything i needed to finish that day done!!!!

-got some neat toys at the thrift store, including a certain type of teddy bear that my grandma collects and they are usually really expensive and it was fucking $4.....a steal.....i bought it for her and i told her and she was so happy!!! it was so nice!!!

-wore an extremely good outfit and got many compliments on it!!!

friday:

-took my new adhd meds and they worked really well!!!

-worked on my comic for a bit

-saw a friend on the way to school and they complimented my hat!

-ate an extremely tasty chocolate bar

-went to my one of my best friend’s house and watched her play sonic forces and we ate pizza and it was a really great and fun time!!! i really love sonic and sonic forces was so fun.....i liked the character creation and that u could give ur lil character outfits and i always had on a fun outfit and we changed it every time we went to play as the character and got new stuff!! i also got to meet my best friend’s gf for the first time!!! im sad that i had to go because she got there around 10:45 and i had to go home so i only got to meet her briefly but she hugged me and that was nice :> also my best friend’s cat who i adore so much kept sitting in my lap!!!!

-got an extremely cursed garfield at the thrift store

saturday (today!!)

-saw my sister and my mom for lunch at my favorite restaurant for my sister and i’s birthday!!! it’s not today, but tuesday but we did something today for it!!! my mom didnt write my birthname on my card, but she also didnt write any name on it, but i suppose that’s a step up. she did only call me my birthname when we were out and about which was upsetting and i didnt like it but i told her it upsets me! but not in a way that would have ruined the day or anything!!

-went to a local flea market where one of the vintages stores i like was selling some stuff, and they were having a $5 hat sale which is the whole reason i went because when i got my clown mug on wednesday, the lady running it mentioned that they have cool vintage clown baseball caps and that they will be at the flea market for $5 and i cant pass up a good deal......i also got some hand made, bright yellow, glittery eye shadow for $4!!! it was so bright and pretty and i was like....hrrnnng i need it

-got many compliments on my garf sweat top that i wore today as well as the button down shirt i was wearing under it to be more fancy for lunch with my mom!

-got a mesh top to wear underneath my shirts, a pair of fishnet tights to wear underneath my pants with the rips in the knees, a really cute pair of earrings, and a gothy sort of choker at this neat lil store in the city!!! the people there were super helpful and friendly!!

-had my manager at work tell me im good at sampling when i went in to grab a tea while i was at the mall!!

-got some new jewelry for my tragus piercing!!!

-also got some rainbow shoe laces for my creepers that were $2.....wrow....what a deal!!!

-had my left over spaghetti from lunch for dinner!!! two spaghetti meals, babey!!

-it was nice out!! i was worried it would rain or be really cold but it was nice and sunny and i got to have a nice lil walk around china town!!!

#the wretched gremlin strikes again #spencer's good things list

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jungiyara · 6 years

Text

Ever Since We Met [SF9 Dawon AU]

Man I’m a sucker for cheesy one shots. @fyeah-bubblekey this ones for you :3

Text Key:

[ sample ]: author notes

SAMPLE: Your thoughts

SAMPLE: Dawons Thoughts

SAMPLE: Same thought at same time

———————————

Ever Since We Met [Based off the song Nearly Witches by Panic! At the Disco]

Song for reference (Live ver. 2011)

Song for reference (Org, with lyrics)

Dear lord I hate school. 5 tests, 3 essays, and a presentation in 3 weeks?

It was the beginning of the second semester of your 11th year in high school [secondary school?]. This was the most important year of your education. The year where all your grades and extracurricular actually mean something. Everything seemed to fall on top of you at once. If you had it your way, you would have dropped out and gone to performance school. But your parents would never allow that. So you dragged your ass out of bed into Hell. You didn’t care for much. But you only cared about one thing. Cheesy as it is, the school's music program is the only reason why you even try; your parents wouldn’t let you be in the music program if your grades were awful. You were the president of the program, you sang, danced and played both the clarinet and guitar.

The best part about this program was not just the fact it wasn’t a boring classical orchestral highschool band, but that it was a versatile program, where there were guitarists, drummers, bass players, singers, and dancers. It was to focus on different styles while promoting individuality and unity. Most students played more than one instrument and everyone was like a family.

You enjoyed adding new people to the program each year. But when your director said that there was a new singer who transferred in, you felt nervous yet excited. Since the seniors graduated last year, the program lacked any singers, and while you were amazing, it wasn’t your focus as was dance and guitar.

“Lee Sanghyuk is his real name but prefers to be called Dawon, I believe,” said your teacher. “He’s a singer and dancer, doesn’t play any instruments.” Wow, so I have a bit of competition now? “It’s your responsibility as president to introduce him to the program. I expect you to make an announcement to all three music class periods. And I believe he’s joining your class. Make sure you update on our set list for the concert in a month. I haven’t handed out the parts yet, but I heard the kid sing.” You relaxed at his expression. He seemed excited by it. “He’s one of the best I heard since our last male singer graduated.”

You took a look at the setlist. 2 general orchestral pieces and 1 instrumental alternative piece for the high school, 1 indie for the 8th graders, 2 combined 6th and 7th-grade pieces, few jazz ensemble pieces and a drum line piece. With a dance performance put in, the concert would run about an hour and a half.

“Nearly Witches? Isn’t that a Panic! At the Disco piece? For the high school” You asked. “Indeed it is. It’s the last song on the piece. It’s probably going to be a duo.”

Oh no. Your the only female singer right now and you haven’t even heard the new kid yet. “I know what you’re thinking y/n, and don’t worry, your voices match each other.” The bell rang, meaning you had to go to your last class. “Good luck kiddo, you can do it!” You loved your teacher. He was almost like a second parent.

Next Day:

You came to school early so you could run to the music room and meet the new kid. As you walked in your heart skipped a beat.

Oh god he’s hot. Almost tripping over the instrument cable damn 8th graders you walked into the office. You were trying hard to keep your composure. He had soft black hard and beautiful brown eyes, was a little taller than you were, though you were in heels. He had a smile that was so bright you thought you needed sunglasses. Your teacher read your mind and started giggling as he instructed you to sit.

Okay, professionalism. You gotta know the kid for the benefit of the program.

“Hi I’m Sanghyuk, but you could call me Dawon!” His voice was bright and I feel like he's comedic and outgoing. “Hi Dawon! I’m Y/N, the president. I heard you’re a vocalist? I know this is fast but we have a concert in about a month. Do you have a free period so we can discuss?” I’m talking so fast oh god. I hope he doesn’t notice I’m staring.

“Uh, I think 4th period?” You saw his schedule. I share 4 classes including free period. This should be fun.

“Do you dance Dawon? After school on Thursdays we have a dance class. We do stuff from hip hop to alternative and traditional. I can introduce you to the Dance team leader for you.”

“I actually love dancing, I’ll take you up on that offer.” Does she know that I’m really fuckin nervous.

“I think you’re gonna be a great addition to the program Dawon!” said your teacher, noticing the slight tension.

The bell rang, and the first music class came in. The three music classes were the two highschool and the one middle school. The first was High school A. Your friends Taeyang, Zuho and Rowoon walk in. They greet you and Dawon; Taeyang walks by and whispers in your ear “he’s cute, I approve.” and you hit him playfully. “Dawon, I’d like you to meet the dance team leader and the most awful best friend in the world. Taeyang, we have a new member for Dance.”

He took one look at Dawon. “Like I said, I approve. Talk to me after school newbie.”

“Well I wouldn’t bet on it, I have about 100 other things I gotta do, you gotta prove to be a priority!” I hope she found that comment funny or I’m gonna launch myself out the window. Oh my god and he’s comedic. Please don’t let me fall for this boy. You, Taeyang, Rowoon and Zuho are laughing. Thank god.

As the class settles in, you walk in and introduce him to the group. Everyone muttered in delight; another singer. He shot finger guns at everyone when you described him, and everyone giggled. Oh boy a class clown. Everyones gonna love him.

Throughout the day, you led him through the school. You two seemed to bond on your mutual hatred for the stupid amount of work you have as 11th graders. “5 test and 2 essays??” “And a presentation!” “How are you alive at this school?” How do i tell him that this music program is the reason why I even try. “I mean, I have music I guess, its my passion.” Oh my god she’s amazing. I can’t believe I met someone who loves music this much. He seems to love music as well. This might be fun.

During your free period, which you previously shared with only Zuho, you two helped Dawon catch up with music stuff. “Our teacher said he wants you and I to sing this song as a duet for the concert.” Nearly Witches by Panic! At the Disco? You both looked at the lyrics while Zuho sat at the table doing his homework. “Ever since we met, I only shoot up with your perfume, Its the only thing, that makes me feel as good as you do” oh god I hope the blushing isn’t noticeable.

“Okay so the lyrics are a little... lovey... Its strictly professional though. Lets spend the next few minutes splitting up the parts and listening to the song.” My teacher is really trying to set me up with this kid isn’t he. You text Taeyang the song lyrics and he responds with the heart eyes and laughing emoji and you send back the middle finger one.

“We’re having the whole group sing the first part in french. Seeing that you seem to have a funny bone in you, you can take the ‘Here I am, composing a burlesque part’“ She thinks I’m funny??

“You can sing the first verse, I’ll take the second verse following the burlesque line. You can sing the pre-chorus, we can sing the chorus together.”

He knows what he’s doing oh wow.

The lunch bell rang. Soon after was the music class. After everyones part was handed out, you two went into the practice room to sing vocals while the rest of the group practiced their part.

The practice room was a bit on the smaller side; 1 speaker and a music stand.

“Alright lets get this shit done Dawon.”

“Don’t you mean... lets get this shit Done...won...” That was the dumbest joke I’ve made oh lord- ShES LAUGHING?”

You gave a disapproving laughter at his pun. God he’s cute. ok ok ok focus...

The next 30 minutes were spent singing the parts following the song as it was playing.

As class ended, you realized he wrote his number on the back of your sheet music with a note. “You know, we might be partners, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.” I hope that wasn’t too much. HIS NUMBER OH LORD. I hope this works out...

______________

You two spent the next two weeks bonding over whatever. You two got along really well. You had a mutual love for dancing. He’s such a good dancer. You found out that it’s been his dream to be a performer/singer. This only made you love him more.

He became everyone's favorite joker, the teachers loved him because he did his work, the students loved him because he made funny, snarky comments about people. Basically he opened up real quick to everyone and fit in right away.

The best part was during rehearsals. There was a part in the song where the right way to sing the line is in a prissy valley girl accent and every time he does it, the entire class erupts in laughter and you feel yourself falling for him even more. At this point it became a full blown crush on this dude. And during dance practice, Taeyang made sure that you two were close together (he knows all).

He hung out with your general group of friends a lot. I hope she likes me back at some point. I’ve never felt this way about someone before. You noticed how whenever he’s around you he pulls out really bad puns and jokingly flirts with you. Rowoon keeps telling you that he thinks he likes you, but you deny it.

“The song is strictly professionalism.”

The day of the concert was getting closer and closer. You two were told that because it was the last song on the show that you two had to put on a performance. Performance? Its a love song and we’re making it a duet. This could be my chance to pull something. I can’t perform that well, I can show emotion but putting on an act?

The day before the concert you had a sound check/dress rehearsal. This was the time to practice with the amount of space.

“Okay so the beginning is us turned around facing the ensemble. As the song goes into the guitars, we turn around and start dancing. It’ll be mild impromptu.” you explain.

“How should I do my valley girl accent?” he asked everyone, but directed towards you. He starts reenacting that part several times with different poses and accents until the whole group including the teacher is laughing uncontrollably. Dear lord I love him. Your heart rushed with happiness and affection as you told him “Whatever you like. Every time I make her laugh, the happier I feel and the more love I feel for her.

THE DAY OF THE CONCERT:

You were wearing a short blue dress, white necklace, light make up and your hair falling to your sides. Dawon was wearing a short sleeved blue collared shirt and black jeans, with faux glasses and he hair straightened. Wow. She/He’s hot.

The songs passed, one by one, each group walked off stage and you stood by the door praising everyone. The dance performance came. You couldn’t perform as you requested not to; it was a particularly difficult song and you wanted to watch your boys. Taeyang, Zuho, Rowoon, Dawon as well as Inseong, Jaeyoon, Hwiyoung, Chani and Youngbin all performed a self choreographed and produced song called K.O. At Dawons part you couldn’t stop staring at him. God he’s so good. Is she watching. I hope shes watching. She better be watching, I’m using all of my energy.

As the song ended, you greeted them with hugs as the audience and students cheered. The dance performances usually got the most response.

Soon it was time for the duet. Usually you were nervous, but this time, with Dawon, you felt at ease.

The whole group walked onto the stage. Here we go.

“My wing tips waltz across naive wood floors. They creak innocently down the stairs.” You start.

Dawons part came up. Oh boy.

“HERE I AM, COMPOSING A BURLESQUE, OUT OF WHERE THEY REST THEIR NECKS” Dawon did a 360 degree turn, jumped off the stage, sassily stood with his arm up and hand facing down, his eyes closed and in the most high pitch voice sang with his heart. The audience loved it. You loved it. You loved him.

You two sung through the whole song, but what confused you was that he walked by Taeyang and grabbed something and hid it behind him halfway through, but you didn’t pay much attention to it.

You two sang the last part together. Waltzing on stage, pretending to be lovers.

“And my one regret is you~~” which was repeated about 4 times.

The last time you two sang that line, he turned around, pulled out something which made the audience gasp and aww. Then turned to you. Here goes nothing.

“And my one regret is you.” A FLOWER!

As he handed you the flower, you almost in tears, him with a goofy smile and on one knee, the song ends. This is a dream. She accepted it! The whole audience and ensemble is cheering.

You two walk out on stage, flower in one hand, your other hand holding his, and bow down.

After the concert, you two walk back to the music room. As you two pack up your things, as well as in the post concert commotion, he throws the question. At this point it’s just you two alone in the instrument closet.

“So, Y/N... do you, maybe wanna go out some time?” please say yes please say yes.

Truly a dream come true oh my god oh my god!

You kiss his cheek. “Does that answer that for you?”

To break the tension he replys in a sarcastic voice, “No actually it doesn’t!”

“Yes of course I’ll go out with you you big goof.”

He kisses your cheek just as the rest of you friends look through the window. Rowoon walks in shouting.

“HEY LOVE BIRDS WE’RE GONNA GO CELEBRATE AT THAT ONE BOUGIE RESTAURANT DOWNTOWN, CARE TO JOIN OR ARE Y’ALL GONNA FUCK?”

Dawon starts laughing and you hit Rowoon with a music stand, but agree to go.

The music program truly was the one thing that made you happy.

#sf9 #youngbin #inseong #jaeyoon #dawon #rowoon #zuho #taeyang #hwiyoung #chani #sf9 highschool #sf9 dawon au #panic! at the disco #kpop au #kpop scenario #sf9 dawon x reader

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hotdogjumpingfrog5 · 6 years

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It’s Strange - Chapter 18

Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve , Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen , Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen

March 21st, 1987

It was Thursday night, and both the Byers and Hopper side came together for the first time for dinner. Jim and Joyce were now serious, and they figured now was a good time for both families to interact.

Both Will and El hadn’t interacted a whole lot, but tonight would be an opportunity for them to get to know each other a bit better.

Johnathan and Emma on the other hand, knew each other more, but were not 100% close either.

Jim and Joyce had decided to go to a local Italian restaurant, a place where everyone will like what is served. Compromise.

Hopper, Eleven, and Emma were the first ones to arrive, and about two minutes later, the Byers had entered.

After being seated, there was a few moments of silence while everyone looked at their menus, while at the same time figuring out what to say to each other.

“So,” Hopper began, “How’s everyone’s life going?”

“Good.” Johnathan and Emma responded

Hopper and Joyce looked over at Eleven and Will, while Johnathan and Emma turned around to look after they didn’t respond

Will and Eleven were sitting across from each other, staring into each other’s eyes intensely, almost as if they were communicating through telepathy.

“Will? Jane?” said Joyce

They had the same response as Johnathan and Emma, but almost immediately went back to staring at each other.

“So Johnathan, how is university coming along?” Jim asked, “And how’s Nancy?”

“It’s going good, I have a few exams coming up in a couple of weeks.” Johnathan responded, “And me and Nancy are doing well, thanks for asking.”

“Very good.” Hopper smiled

“And what about you, Emma?” said Joyce

“It’s good. Zoology is interesting.” Em replied

“I bet it is!” said Joyce, “Oh, how’s your mother and stepsister doing?”

“They’re good, me and my sister Lucy’s relationship is better than it was two years ago of course.” Emma laughed

As Joyce, Johnathan, and Emma were in their own conversations, Jim had zoned out and looked over at Eleven and Will.

They were still staring into each other’s eyes intensely, not looking away nor blinking. Almost as if they were having an internal conversation with each other; another language nobody else could understand.

“Jane. Will.” said Jim, “Join in on the conversation.”

The two of them had broken eye contact, and joined in with the rest of them.

“Do you guys stare at each other like that when you hang out?” Johnathan chuckled

“We’re only now getting to know each other.” said Will

Emma gave her younger sister a look, in which Eleven responded with an annoyed expression.

As far as the night was going, all of them felt some sort of connection with each other, aside from Joyce and Hopper, who had already felt a connection between each other a long while.

Johnathan and Emma knew each other since it was only four of them including Nancy and Steve in their group, but Johnathan and Emma were getting to know each other a bit better.

As for Eleven and Will, it was almost as if they felt an immediate connection right away.

Because who knows, they could be possible step siblings very soon.

April 3rd, 1987

It is just after 5:30, and Ella was going to head to Beverly’s house for the night. After she finished her mother’s chicken noodle soup. But she knew her and Beverly would be having takeout later on, but she’d never tell her mother of course.

“Okay Ellie bear,” said Sonia, “Make sure you take your vitamins with you, or you will get sick.”

She didn’t like being called Ellie, and her mom was the worst for saying it. But as normal, gave her a fake smile and replied with “Yes, mommy.”

“Good girl, and make sure it’s just you and Marsh tonight, aside from her guardian.” Sonia continued, “If you shower, make sure you use towels Beverly hasn’t used; I wouldn’t want her to give you any STDs or AIDs.”

At this point Ella wasn’t listening, and made her way to the porch to get ready to leave.

“And where do you think you’re off to?” Eddie came in, sounding just like their mom

“I told you earlier, Bev’s.” Ella responded, “And by the way, you’re my twin brother, not mom.”

“I’m older than you, I know what’s best.”

There hasn’t been a week where Eddie hasn’t said that to her.

“Yeah, right.” El responded, and shut the door behind her

She made her way down the path which lead to the end of their driveway, and Richie was just lurking around the corner, headed up the path.

“Hi Ella.” Richie said smugly

“Don’t talk to me, trashmouth.” El mumbled, still pissed about the ridiculous April Fool’s jokes he pulled the other day

“What did I do?” said Richie, “All I did was pour water in your backpack on Wednesday!”

“You also trashed my room and went through my stuff when you were up on Wednesday you sicko!” Ella said annoyed

“You like it.”

She gave him the bird in response, not wanting to be bothered with Richie

“Rude!” said Richie, “I’m going to tell Mrs. K you were not being nice!”

“Perv!” she said while punching in the arm, then ran off

As soon as Ella hit the next block, she caught her breath and chuckled at what she did, not wanting to show any sort of emotion around Tozier

Later on that night, Beverly and Ella walked the streets that evening after dinner, getting up to shit neither Bev’s aunt or Ella’s mom would not approve of.

That stuff being two sixteen/fifteen year old girls walking around at night.

But as long as they didn’t find out.

Eventually, the two of them made their way back to Bev’s apartment, as they were both getting exhausted

It was 11 o’clock when they got back, but they decided to go to bed earlier than they normally would. But would stay up chatting for a while, of course.

This time Ella slept on the floor. Tonight Beverly was feeling okay, and wasn’t getting any sinister flashbacks about her now deceased father.

“Did you get up to much after school today?” Bev asked

“Not really,” El responded, “Eddie has turned into our mom, and Richard is a douche.”

“Oh dear, what did those boys do this time?” Beverly chuckled

Though it was all minor, she still gave a short rant about the two.

“But why did Richie go through your stuff?” Bev questioned, “Based on what you told me and what trashmouth has done to you in the past, it does sound to me that he likes -”

“No Bev,” El rolled her eyes, “Not gonna happen. I can’t see myself going after my brother’s friend.”

“You suuure?” Beverly smirked

“Yes, please stop.” El chuckled, “How’s you and Ben doing anyway?”

“We’re good”

Ella just then remembered of what happened a month ago the night she looked after Georgie. Bill had originally asked Bev to do it, but Beverly had to cancel last minute.

El vaguely remembers Bill giving her the key, and played a game or two with Georgie before he did his own thing and she sat in the living room.

Nothing seemed too out of place until Georgie stared at her with a creepy grin from across the room before muttering “Come join the clown, Eds.”

“Uh, what?” El asked, confused

“I saw a clown before.” Georgie giggled, “He was so funny!”

Then, would go back to himself. No more creepy grin, and Georgie continued as if that episode never even happened.

She had mentioned it to Bill when he got home later that evening, and Bill was slightly suspicious himself. Though he had said this rarely happened, and brushed it off as Georgie’s imagination going wild. Besides, Georgie hadn’t done anything else that entire night.

Eddie had told her about a particular clown the other losers faced months before El had joined them. Could it have been the same one?

Ella had mentioned that to Beverly on the spot, and Bev’s expression changed as she stared up to the ceiling, heart thumping

“Something wrong?” El asked

“Did you see anything?” Bev questioned

“No, why?”

“Okay. I just hope It’s not back.” said Beverly, “I could have sworn we killed that clown two years ago. Did you feel like you were being watched after Georgie said that?”

“Kind of, but I guess that’s just because it freaked me out.” Ella brushed it off

Beverly sat up in bed, wondering why this happened. Though Ella’s weird encounter with Georgie happened a month ago, no one has gone missing in Derry-Hawkins.

El mentioned that she forgot about it as soon as she left, and as did Bill, as he did not mention it to the group.

“You know, I see why Eddie is overprotective of you.”

“Nah, he’s just being his bossy self, Eddie might as well be my second mom.” Ella shrugged

“No El, you don’t understand!” Beverly insisted, “He doesn’t want you to be in any form of danger, or fall into It or whatever is out there’s clutches.”

“But what else could be out there? I thought you guys said It was gone?”

Both the losers and the party have encountered seeing something weird one by one, but no one could lay a finger on it. No one has gone missing since two years ago, and Derry-Hawkins was considered safe again, even though the 7 pm curfew sign was still up in front of Derry High, two years later.

The Derry police never did take it down.

Beverly sighed, not knowing how she was feeling at this point, but mostly fearful

She felt this chill go up her spine, and realized El was the newest member of the losers club, and hoping It wouldn’t come back for El, since she too was a girl.

But It can’t come for her though, Beverly thought, It only comes out every 27 years, right?

Next Chapter: Chapter 19

#it movie 2017 #stranger things #will byers #beverly marsh #richie tozier #mike wheeler #jim hopper #joyce byers #eddie kaspbrak

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dinamicus · 4 years

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Thursday’s Child https://bowiesongs.wordpress.com/2014/01/21/thursdays-child/

One summer day some ten years ago, I was helping to paint a house. On the boombox was Best of Bowie: a long, chronological march from the beachhead of “Space Oddity,” with most songs met by indifference and occasional hums. The caressing synthesizers of “Thursday’s Child” began, and as Bowie started crooning, a fellow painter stopped mid-swipe and looked over at the CD player.

“What happened to that guy?” he said.

We’d made it through “Dancing In the Street” with a few chuckles and “Under the God” without comment. But “Thursday’s Child,” on that hot afternoon, sounded awful: treacly, gaspy, wan; the limp expiration of a career. When heard as the close of a sequence that runs through “Rebel Rebel,” “Ashes to Ashes,” “Modern Love” and “The Hearts Filthy Lesson,” “Thursday’s Child” sounds like a man falling down in the street, a hasty end scene tacked onto an overlong Act V. “I’m done with the future: here’s a song for your grandmother.” Dies, borne off stage right.

Sure, any slow, fragile-sounding number could’ve gotten a raspberry that day from our collection of young and recently-young NYC snobs. It’s not as if “Thursday’s Child” is an ill-constructed or poorly-sung track: if anything, it’s one of the few Bowie compositions of the period sturdy enough to withstand being a cover, whether a trumpet solo or a busker’s guitar piece (solo electric guitar interpretation by Jake Reichbart here). Its verse melody, a dance of mild leaps and modest falls, suits a lyric crafted for common use. In the verses, an older man regrets the paths he’s taken; in the choruses, he dares to hope a new love can give his life meaning. It’s Bowie’s “September Song.”

But “Thursday’s Child” wasn’t hip; it didn’t offer any pretense that it was—it sat in a comfortable present tense and stewed on the past. It felt genteel and a bit shabby. After a few years of running across stages in his bottle imp incarnation, after his stabs at industrial and jungle, after all the interviews about Damien Hirst and body scarifications and Millennial doom and Internet-as-cultural-dynamite, Bowie suddenly turned up as the sad clown again. He’d dusted off his Buster Keaton suit and reclaimed the shadow bloodline of his “rock” one: the Bowie of “When I Live My Dream” and “As The World Falls Down,” the cabaret and mime Bowie, the “light entertainment” regional thespian, the bedsit saddo, the Mod who worshiped Judy Garland and Eartha Kitt (see below).

The singer of “Thursday’s Child” is another of the Pierrots he’d played since the Sixties: a perpetual loser at love, like the glum figure of his “Be My Wife” promo. Take the Mr. Pitiful tone of the opening verse—

All of my life I’ve tried so hard doing the best with what I had: nothing much happened all the same…

—with its most desperate emphases (“best,” “hope”) cued to gloomy B minor chords, while the verse’s circular structure strands the singer back where he started, on an augmented E major (“breaking my life in two”). You can take the song as a straight-faced lament, as a quietly over-the-top spoof of the same, or both (it is Bowie, after all).

And while the chorus offers a hope of release from the cycle, its alternation of F# majors (“falling”) and F# minors (“really got,” “my past”) suggest the hope’s rather thin. The repetitions of “throw me tomorrow” start to feel desperate; Bowie’s “everything’s falling into place!” is someone trying to hypnotize himself. It’s as if Bowie’s answering Joni Mitchell:

It’s got me hoping for the future And worrying about the past

Ours was the most exciting show that had hit London since the war…I was glad that I was born in a part of the world that had been so well protected, but I was also ashamed of my protection. I carried guilt inside for being a privileged character when the rest of the world was being destroyed.

Eartha Kitt, Thursday’s Child, 1956.

This song, I might point out, is not actually about Eartha Kitt.

Bowie, 1999.

He’d taken the song’s title from Eartha Kitt, Bowie said upon introducing “Thursday’s Child” on VH1 Storytellers. Writing the song, he’d recalled the paperback cover of her first autobiography (“it just kind of bubbled up the other month”). It had been an erotic memory of his youth (that and D.H. Lawrence, he said).* Using Kitt as a starting point suited Hours’ theme of a middle-aged assessment of lost youth, a 50-year-old flipping through a box of mold-speckled records shipped from his childhood home (Ray Charles’ “Lucky Old Sun” —a man stuck in the middle of life and envying death—also gets a nod).

The title also plays with an old prediction rhyme—“Thursday’s child has far to go” (another variant is “Thursday’s child is merry and glad”)—that had come out of the ground somewhere in medieval England. The rhyme was a popular corruption of court astrology: Thursday was considered a day of great fortune as it was under the sway of Jupiter, kingpin of gods. The Book of Knowledge, by one Erra Pater (1745), notes a “child born on Thursday shall arrive to Great Honour and Dignity” (By contrast, David Robert Jones was born on a Wednesday “full of woe”).**

So the refrain of “Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday born, I was Thursday’s Child” was Bowie spading up his old occult interests, presenting them in anodyne forms: the little boxes tucked away on a newspaper’s comics page: horoscopes, birth stones, fortunes, lucky numbers (see “Seven”). It’s the “secret histories” of the Sixties reduced to syndicated copy; it’s another diminishing of unearthly power into ordinary life.

It’s also a clever way to cloud the lyric. What to make of the chorus kicker: “only for you I don’t regret/that I was Thursday’s child“? It’s at odds with the picture the singer’s painted so far: that he’s someone for whom little’s worked out, someone who’s estranged from everyday life yet firmly stuck within it (“He’s a teethgrinding, I’ll-get-this-job-done guy,” Bowie said of the narrator). (It’s also possible that, as Nicholas Pegg noted, Bowie’s referencing the VU’s “All Tomorrow’s Parties“: “For Thursday’s child is Sunday’s clown.“) But a Thursday’s child would be a lucky child: someone with pull, some who had far to go: a Kitt, or a Bowie.

Go back to Eartha Kitt for a moment. Born in South Carolina, she’d reinvented herself in the early Fifties as a nightclub goddess who’d seemingly flown in from the Continent; she played the seductress, the gold-digger with taste (“Santa Baby”) who captured men with her boxful of languages. She’d be cast in that role for the rest of her days: a life spent forever vamping. But what a role! As her biographer John L. Williams wrote of her performance of “Monotonous” in the film New Faces: Eartha is playing a character that’s almost unimaginable in reality [in 1954]: a black American woman who’s tasted all of the world’s delicacies and found them lacking…we wonder, who on earth is this woman? And how can she seem to be so indifferent to the laws and mores of her time? A question that could have been asked, with a gender change, about another performer in 1973.

So maybe the singer is someone like Kitt: not some teeth-grinding anonymous drone but a bright public figure, someone whose name everyone knows, someone to whom things seem have come easily. Doing the best with what I had becomes a modest boast; shuffling days and lonely nights are those of a stage life. Or maybe even the common life of an office drone is a stage life. Bowie had called himself “the Actor,” but in a way, we’re all actors.

Composed in Bermuda in late 1998, “Thursday’s Child” appears to have been mainly Bowie’s work, written on acoustic guitar. It was earmarked as a potential single, with a prominent role for backing singers. The question of who those should be became a bit contentious once Bowie and Gabrels were back in New York.

After toying with having Mark Plati’s six-year-old daughter sing the “Inchworm”-inspired “Monday, Tuesday..” line (she turned Bowie down! “she said she’d rather sing with her friends than with grown-ups,” Plati told David Buckley), Bowie thought of contacting the trio TLC. In 1999, they were arguably the premier female R&B vocal group of the decade. But they were tottering. Rife with personality and financial squabbles and having taken five years to cut their follow-up LP, they were about to be dethroned by Destiny’s Child.

Using TLC sat poorly with Gabrels, who thought it stunk of Bowie’s “New Jack Swing” moves in 1992: “Thursday’s Child” could be another potential Al B. Sure! fiasco. Gabrels had positioned himself as the house purist: some faint analogue in the Bowie camp to Steve Albini. He’d met Bowie during the nadir of Never Let Me Down and he saw it as his charge to keep Bowie honest and weird, to stop him from embarrassing himself by chasing trends after their sell-by date. During the making of ‘Hours’ Gabrels came to feel that his time with Bowie was over (we’ll get into this more in next week’s entry); his veto of TLC would be his last strategic win.

His alternative proposal had a touch of self-interest: he recommended a Boston friend, Holly Palmer, who Bowie auditioned via speakerphone (“let’s hear it with more vibrato now”). You could argue that Palmer’s vocals were just as time-stamped as any TLC vocals would have been: the Liz Fraser-inspired vocalese, the coffee-shop ambiance (a slightly edgier Dido). But Bowie liked what he heard and Palmer joined his touring band in 1999-2001.**

Another question was how far to take the production. David Buckley argued that the song was “crying out for strings,” and the various synthesizer fill-ins for woodwinds, strings and brass can make the song seem stuck in an embryonic state. Had Bowie held “Thursday’s Child” back for what he was calling the “Visconti album,” slated for 2000, it likely would’ve had a much grander production. Perhaps what kept “Thursday’s Child” from being a monstrous hit was that it hedged its bets too much.

The last piece was Walter Stern’s video. “Bowie,” with little makeup to mask his plus-fifty face, and his partner prepare for bed. They brush their teeth, she takes out her contacts (verrry slooowly). There’s a naturalist feel to counter the tasteful Wiliams Sonoma bedroom set: you hear Bowie cough, mumble and half-sing over the recorded track (taken from Elvis Costello’s “I Wanna Be Loved” video), and the plash of water in the sink. He looks in the mirror, transfixed by his aged but still beautiful face; he’s a veteran Narcissist. A twist of the glass and he sees younger versions of himself and his partner.

The mirror pair have the easy, arrogant confidence of youth; they stare at the older couple with the cold pity of what Bowie once called “the coming race.” They seem like beautiful wraiths. Bowie, seemingly infatuated with his younger self, does the Marx Brothers Duck Soup mirror game with him. The double plays along for a while, then stops, bored and disgusted with his older self. We passed upon the stair, Bowie had sung long ago, upon meeting another double. He’d been on his way up then, his life still mostly potential. This is the other end of the staircase: a man realizing that time has changed him, that the majority share of his life lies behind him now, that his younger self would’ve regarded the current him like some threadbare costume. Perhaps that was the right question to ask after all: What happened to that guy? He kisses his wife in his imagination, and so to bed....

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internetgremlin-writes · 7 years

Text

Of Punks And Nerds

YAAAAS I got my first request! This one is for @frizzy2ne1 who requested a Billie Joe Armstrong imagine.

Prompt/Summary: Requested - High School era Green Day. You are a high achieving student with an unfortunate crush on your delinquent homeroom classmate

Pairing: Billie Joe Armstrong x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of drugs/underage drinking

Word Count: 3933

I don’t know when it got so bad, but then again you never really do. Heck, I don’t even remember when it all started. I sigh and stare out of the window, a million thoughts a second racing through my mind, mostly of him. I scold myself: I need to stop thinking about him so much, but I can’t help it. He’s become everything to me, and yet I don’t even exist to him. I’m vaguely aware of my best friend, Lindsey, whispering my name, but I decide she can wait, my daydream taking priority over mindless gossip.

A sharp elbow to the ribs makes me flinch and I shoot a dirty look at Lindsey. “Fran,” she hisses again. I blink a few times and readjust from my sulky daydream to miserable reality. “What?” I hiss back. “Frances?” Mrs Peterson calls from the front of the room. “Yes, Miss?” “Are you present today?” “Oh, er yes,” I mumble, the blush must be obvious on my face judging by the fact that my ears feel like they’re on fire. My voice is a mere squeak, embarrassment eating me alive as I shrink back into my seat.

I’m too afraid to look over at him, I don’t want to see him laughing at me with everyone else, even if it is a sign that he knows I exist. Lindsey sends me a look that says “Sorry, I tried to warn you,” I shrug and chance a glance over at him. Typical, this would happen on one of the rare days that he decides to show up, but my panic is calmed. He’s not looking at me, he didn’t even giggle with everyone else. His eyes are wide and glazed over, and he’s staring blankly at the ceiling. A small smile flickers across my face and again I curse myself. I can’t be this obsessed with someone like him. Lindsey catches my look and smirks at me, wiggling her eyebrows and winking for effect. I flip her the bird under the desk.

Technically, this is all Lindsey’s fault. At one of her sleepovers a few months back we had been up late and giggly on wine coolers and were discussing boyfriends, or in my case lack thereof. Like a lion with a piece of meat she refused to let the subject go, determined to find out who I was crushing on and like any best friend she refused to take no for an answer. With help from the others and lots of probing and pushing she had managed to extract my “type”, which in all honesty I didn’t really know and so to keep the beast at bay I began randomly listing features.

“Billie Joe Armstrong,” she said with a triumphant smile, leaving me to snort loudly into my drink. “W-what?” I spluttered, cooler running down my face. “You described Billie Joe,” “I most certainly did not,” I snapped venomously and told her exactly where Billie Joe could go. That boy is nothing but trouble, he’s been in my homeroom since freshman year at Pinole Valley and on the rare occasions that he feels like showing up (and even rarer on time) he’s either stoned, hung over or just plain rude. He’s got a gang of friends that dress like he does - skinny jeans that shouldn’t be so tight, beat up Chuck Taylor’s, flannels and shirts with bands on them or other vulgar symbols. He is loud and obnoxious, you’d hear his laugh from a mile away and his voice is very distinctive being slightly more southern than most Californian scents. Billie Joe Armstrong is the type of kid who thinks he’s above teachers, and he makes sure that the teachers know it.

Because Lindsey had mentioned it, the following Monday I kept a watchful eye for him, and on Tuesday and Wednesday when he didn’t show up. On Thursday he strolled in twenty minutes late without so much as acknowledging Mrs Peterson, whose face was growing red as she scribbled out a detention slip. Billie Joe had thrown himself into his seat at the back of the room and was lounging with his feet up as if he owned the place. “Mr Armstrong, feet off the desk please,” he had stared at her with the same interest that one would give a dead fly. “Bite me,” Peterson’s face was a picture as she stormed over, batted his feet with a rolled up newspaper and slammed two detention slips on the desk. He picked them up, the look on his face amused and careful, maintaining eye contact with her as he very pointedly ripped the slips to shreds. “That’s it! Get out!” She flipped and Billie Joe stood up, knocking the chair over and sauntered out of the class, hands stuffed into his pockets. “My pleasure,” he grinned.

He didn’t show up the next week.

Unfortunately, that only piqued my newfound interest in the delinquent. Over the next few weeks I started to notice things about him, the fact that his hair was out of control but it totally suited him, the reddish brown colouring looking unacceptably good, how those skinny jeans made his legs look like heaven, how he wasn’t particularly tall but still had all the airs and graces of a ringleader, how his teeth were crooked but his smile was still dazzling, the fact that he was stoned a lot was suddenly funny rather than disgusting, his bad attitude and habits became endearing, how his shirt always hung off him in a way that only made me desperate to know what’s underneath.

Before I knew it my school days were spent scanning the corridors for any sign of him, heartbeat wildly out of control with anticipation waiting for him to walk through the door, stomach flipping somersaults every time I did see him. It was ridiculous, getting this silly over a boy, and a delinquent one at that, but here I am nauseas and more nervous than usual and desperate not to make a fool out of myself in front of him. Fortunately, we don’t share any classes otherwise I would never be able to concentrate, and if I want to stay on track for Valedictorian at the end of the year I need to.

I stumble through the rest of the week, as usual barely seeing Billie Joe and feeling like an idiot when I do. I always seem to see him when I’m doing something embarrassing like readjusting my clothes, fighting with books in my locker, tripping over my own feet or just leaving the bathrooms. At least he never looks at me, otherwise I think I would die. “Frances?” “Huh?” “Seriously you have to stop zoning out so much. It’s not healthy man,” Lindsey tells me off on Friday. I glance up from where I was idly twisting my pasta, if that’s what you could call it, thoughts on the group sat across the cafeteria as per usual. “Sorry, what’re we talking about?” I looked up, pushing my glasses back up my nose with a guilty grin. Lindsey rolls her eyes in good nature. “Party, tonight?” I titter nervously and fiddle with the hem of my shirt, a bad nervous habit. “Uh, I don’t think so. I have a shit ton of homework,” “We all do,” one of my close friends, Jessica, pipes in. “C'mon, Fran, one night won’t kill you,” Sarah adds from where she’s sat beside me. “I, I’m really not sure, you know I’m not the party type guys,”

Lindsey’s eyes flicker across the cafeteria as a loud guffaw and various whoops and shouts echo through the room. The table that had just erupted seats Billie Joe and his friends, and apparently one of them had cracked a well approved joke because they’re in uproar, fists banging on the table and hyena noises filling the large space. Billie Joe’s laugh hits me and I fight the smile on my face, his laugh makes me happy, even when it’s at someone else’s expense which judging by the minuscule freshman who’s stood picking his lunch off his shirt, it is. “His band is playing,” Lindsey says to me, distracting my attention away from the scene back to the conversation. “Oh?” I feign polite interest. In reality my pulse rate has just gone through the roof, I can feel the butterflies beginning to build up in my stomach and already my mind is working on all of the best-case-scenarios of Billie Joe and I at a party. “So, you coming?” I don’t want to seem too keen, as far as Lindsey and the girls are concerned, my crush on Billie Joe Armstrong was invented by them and is nothing more than a funny joke that they like to wind me up about. I refuse to let them know that he’s wound his way into my head and is seemingly not leaving any time soon. “I’ll, uh, I’ll think about it,” I offer, before gathering my books and heading off early to double history.

I convince myself to forget about Billie Joe and the party, knowing already what a bad idea it is, and instead drive myself home in my ancient car and focus on actually getting some work done this evening. Or at least, I try to until less than two hours after I arrived home, Lindsey and the group are walking into my room with various bags in their arms. “Guys?” I ask “We’re getting ready here, going to the party and then sleeping over at yours,” Lindsey states casually, throwing her stuff down on my bed as if she had been planning this for weeks. “I’m not going to the party,” I remind her. “You said you’d ‘think about it’ that’s a yes,” Jess pipes up.

Lindsey wants to play makeovers, but I’m not in the mood. I don’t really want to go to the party in the first place let alone allow the girls to make me up like a clown first. I throw on a pair of shorts with a white top and a flannel. It’s fairly warm so I don’t bother with pantyhose or hoodies, I fish out a pair of white pumps which I decide will do. Lindsey manages to wrestle me into a chair and make me sit still long enough for her to shove a necklace around me, neaten up the loose curls in my hair and smudge some eye makeup on. After what feels like forever of watching everyone change their outfit god knows how many times, we finally leave and head out. I offer to drive, but Lindsey insists we walk so we can all have a drink.

When we get there I instantly feel sick, this isn’t the usual kind of party I get dragged along to. The parties Lindsey usually goes to are held by the rich kids, they’re usually in Berkeley or Pinole or anywhere outside of Rodeo, where I live, they’re held in big houses with big driveways and no neighbours near enough to worry about. Tonight we’re in deep Rodeo. The place is a small family home, the front yard is scruffy and littered with kids toys and beer cans already, the music is so loud the sidewalk is pulsing and it looks like it might fall down any second. I’m instantly glad I ducked out of Makeovers 101 because the group look very overdressed.

Never losing her smile, Lindsey waltzes in and immediately is greeted by a big burly guy with a mohawk. “Hey guys, this is John, it’s his place,” Lindsey introduces us briefly and I smile tightly at him. I have no idea how Lindsey knows a guy like John, she’s very sociable but we all tend to avoid the punks. It’s not too bad though, most of the senior year is here so I know nearly everyone, although there are definitely a lot more punks here, so I’m guessing it was one of Billie Joe’s gang who’s throwing this thing. I notice that there are also people here who look a lot older than me, but I try not to let it bother me.

“AW FUCK! Alright who wants to hear some real music!?” A rough voice rings out loud and clear after a second of shrill white noise as the microphone attaches to the amp. There’s a cheer and a lot of shouting and suddenly a furious guitar begins followed by equally enthusiastic drums, bass and vocals. If the house seemed to be pulsing from the radio music, this live stuff was making the place shake to the point of near collapse. I snort a laugh to myself and turn to tell Lindsey, but notice that I am alone.

On instinct I walk away from the loud music, although you can hear it clearly from any room in the house. I stumble across the kitchen which has been transformed into a self-service bar and spot the rest of my group already chugging something a lot stronger than wine coolers. Trying not to be a pooper and ruin the mood, I make myself a spritzer and cradle it pathetically. The music changes slightly from furious to more upbeat and I can feel my body thrumming with it. Whoever the band was, they were great. Lindsey catches my eye from where I’m floating on the periphery and I motion that I’m going to the music.

Following the sound is very easy, and I end up in a basement. Thinking ahead, I down the spritzer before descending the narrow staircase, it wouldn’t be great to spill my drink all down myself at eighteen years old. The first thing I smell is sweat and booze. The band are barely visible at one end of the room, while the rest is a mosh pit which is majority punks. I give in to all my inhibitions and let my sudden adoration for this music to control me as I dive into the pit. The band sound great, you can’t understand most of the lyrics to the songs, but it doesn’t matter, the singer shouts enough to get the general meaning of each song across. Everything is ferocious and energetic and I wonder why I haven’t ever listened to this style before, I feel great. I don’t even mind that I’m being virtually crushed by guys three times my size, I’ve worked out that it’s easiest to move with them, pushing and jumping in a large circle that takes up most of the room. If you try to stand still you’ll get crushed. I wonder briefly if this is Billie Joe’s band that are playing, but I discard the idea. This band is too good to be a high school band, they’re talented and electrifying and clearly professionals, that John guy has probably booked them especially. All too soon the set finishes up and the band draw to a close. Everybody stops moshing and aside from being drenched in sweat, heads back upstairs as if nothing had happened. Considering that I’ve never done anything like that before, I’m not so adept at recovering and instead let the crowd wash over me as I stand hunched over and gasping for air. Eventually the room clears out and I can feel the fresh air from the open windows beginning to infiltrate the hot, recycled air.

I’m not really aware of the fact that it’s just the band and I in the room until there’s a gentle tap on my shoulder. “Frances?” I spin round to stop, face to face with green eyes. Instinctively I push my glasses up my nose. “Here, thought you could use it,” the person says and I feel a sudden cool relief. I look down to see that he’s pushed a bottle of ice cold water into my hand. I snap the lid of and down the contents immediately, the liquid soothing the burn in my throat and brining my temperature back down a little. “Yeah, thanks,” I gasp once I was done. The guy gives me a low chuckle in return. In the dim lights I take a second to actually get a look at the guy. Looking over his shoulder I can see someone disassembling the drum kit and someone else packing away the guitars, so I guess that this is the lead singer. I have to admit, he’s very cute, with his sparkling green eyes and messy hair that’s fairly short, but long enough to run your hands through and bleach blonde. He’s got a sweet but cheeky smile, and his skin is dewy and flushed from playing which makes him glow. Even his sweaty clothes that are hanging off his body and make him gorgeous. “Wait,” my tired brain catches up. “How do you know my name?” I question, certain that I’ve never seen him around before. If I had then I would definitely be obsessing about this guy, not stupid Billie Joe. “Uh, Frances, we have homeroom together every morning,” he says in the kind of voice you use when you’re talking to someone very slow. My eyes rake shamelessly over his body again, trying to pick out a feature I would remember. I know that I’m a daydreamer and spend a lot of my time zoned out, but I thought I knew everyone in homeroom pretty well. I frown a little and tilt my head, as if it will help, and slowly it starts to dawn on me. That figure, those eyes, that smile. “Oh my god, Billie Joe!” I gasp and his rich laugh echoes across the small basement. “You didn’t recognise me? I’m offended,” he pouts and suddenly my face feels like I’m sat next to a fire and I want the ground to swallow me whole. I can’t believe I didn’t even recognise him. “And for fuck’s sake please, it’s just Billie, or BJ. I’m only called Billie Joe when I’m in trouble,” he adds as I’m still stood, eyes now fixated on the floor.

“You, er, you changed your hair,” I offer meekly. For the second time in a minute his laugh bounces off the walls. “I guess I did. It needed cutting ages ago,” he mimes his old big hair and I find myself tentatively laughing with him. “I like it. I mean, it er, suits you. Your new hair I mean. Blonde looks, yeah, I like you blonde,” I stutter my compliment awfully, but it seems to have the desired effect because Billie runs a hand through it and shrugs, muttering a thanks to the floor. I want to die, I want to die, I want to die my mind is screeching at means begging to get the hell away and never show my face near him again, but I can’t seem to make my body move. “Good, uh, I’m glad you like it y'know,” I smile shyly, but my brain is mush. I can’t seem to comprehend anything other than the fact that he knew my name and was voluntarily talking to me.

“Your band is very good,” I blurt before thinking about what I’m saying. My brain has definitely turned itself off. “Thanks,” he responds with a lopsided grin, his teeth flashing in the dim lights. “I’m really glad you made it, y'know,” Billie’s voice is completely different to the one he used on stage, it’s soft now, and almost sweet. My whole system seems to have gone into shut down and I can’t seem to control anything. “Really? Me?” I pull a face. “Yeah, you. That’s why I got John to throw this thing, because he’s friends with Lindsey and I hoped she’d drag you along,” Billie is rubbing the back of his neck, and staring at the floor as he speaks. I can’t understand what he’s saying, my mind is in total whiteout and I’m not processing a thing. “I’m sorry, I’m not follow-”

I’m cut off as Billie steps towards me, his arms wrapping around my waist and pulling me into his body, one hand cupping my face as he pushes his lips against mine. Instantly my knees go weak and I melt into him, arms wrapping around his neck on instinct, pressing back against the soft heat. He moves his mouth slightly and I follow suit. The world could be sucked into a black hole and I wouldn’t notice right now, the current situation completely overwhelming my senses, the musky scent of boy and sweat combing in the most delicious way, my eyes are closed but Billie’s image is burnt into my brain, his skin is on fire under my hands and smooth to the touch, the soft tendrils of his hair begging for me to run my hands through it, the thumping sound of the party above us is all but white noise and all I can taste is his mouth on mine, the both of us taste faintly of alcohol and something personal that only makes me crave him more.

As soon as I feel his tongue, hot and wet and just as wonderful as the rest of him, I pull back slightly. Although this isn’t my first kiss (it’s most definitely my best one) I’m not one to full on make out with a guy I’ve barely spoken to before, crush or not. “Billie,” I begin, my voice small and breathy as I slowly drag my hands off him, much to my distaste. “Frances,” he responds in the same hushed tone, then something snaps in his eyes. “Fuck, Frances I’m so sorry,” he gasps and immediately my stomach falls through the floor. “I didn’t mean to do that to you, well I did, but y'know not yet anyway, but fuck you just look so good and oh god I’ve fucked up,” he groans, words blending into each other as he buries his head in his hands. “Don’t be sorry,” I say as I peel his hands away from his face, immediately getting lost in his eyes. In the light they’re a dark green shade in a small ring around hugely dilated pupils that make him look almost puppy-like. “You’re not mad?” “No,” I almost whisper. A small smile makes its way back onto Billie’s face. “Good, because I know this is fucking stupid and we’ve literally never spoken before, but I can’t help but notice you and everything about you and fuck labels and cliques and all that shit, do you wanna hang out sometime?” The grin on my face must be huge, but I try to remain reserved. “Depends what you mean by hang out,” I challenge. “Fuck, I dunno. Whatever you wanna do, go to the movies, the diner, Gilman Street - that’s the music club - fuck even the mall if you wanna, my house to listen to records? I don’t fucking care,” he rambles.

“All of the above,” I murmur, my voice only loud enough for him to hear. Billie closes the small gap between us by gently grabbing my face and planting a chaste kiss on my lips, before interlocking our hands. “C’mon, don’t wanna miss the rest of this shit thing. If we’re lucky they’ll just be starting seven minutes in heaven,” and with a cheeky smirk he pulls me back up the basement stairs to join the rest of the party, my mood beyond elevated.

———–