#i switch point of view so often in these things its kind of ridiculous | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sehunniepotwrites · 4 years ago

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if we were a movie | j.jh

for @nctsworld’s first writing challenge

SYNOPSIS. For someone who was always the understudy and never the lead, scoring this role was huge for you. All you had to do was pretend to be in love with your best friend. No big deal, right? Wrong. It was the biggest deal because, for the past four years, you had been hiding your feelings for Jung Jaehyun.

If this were a movie, he would be your perfect match and the story would end happily with the credits rolling to a perfectly timed soundtrack. Too bad this wasn’t a movie— this was real life and life came with complications.

GENRE. childhood friends to lovers!au, college!au, drama school!au, slow burn, angst, humor, mutual pining, fluff (loosely based on the Filipino rom-com Must Be Love and If We Were a Movie by Hannah Montana) PAIRING. theatre major!Jaehyun x theatre major!reader WORD COUNT. 14+ k

WARNINGS. point of view switches from first (”I”) to second (”you”); self-doubt, insecurities, mutual pining, cursing, lots of references and direct quotes from musicals such as Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella, Disney’s Newsies, Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, Shrek the Musical, and Wicked (edited but i might’ve missed some mistakes; bare with me!)

There are moments where time flows as normal, where people carry on with their days as they usually do. Then, there are moments people experience in slow-motion, where the world just stops spinning and all the background noise just fades away. These are the moments people look forward to. They’re the breathtaking ones, the ones that capture your heart and soul. After those moments, people are never the same.

The first time I experienced something in slow motion was when I made my stage debut at a small talent show. There was thunderous applause after my performance and while my heart thumped against my chest, the world seemed to come to a stop. That’s when I knew my heart belonged to the stage or rather, the stage belonged to me.

Some of these slo-mo moments are the ones where people fall in love.

My father said that’s how he knew my mother was the one for him: he experienced it all at a slowed rate, everything fading into black and she was the only thing he saw. She was his brightest star and he was the one who reached for the sky to bring her down to Earth.

When I was younger, I always dreamed about my “falling in love” slow-mo moment. I pictured a grandiose event with large actions and sweet words. For it to actually happen at theatre camp during the initial dress rehearsal for Disney’s Beauty and the Beast J.R.— well, that was far from what I hoped for.

And yet, it was just as special as I thought it would be.

I was in my obnoxious fork costume, waiting for my best friend to leave the boy’s dressing room.

Jung Jaehyun had been my best friend since the beginning, otherwise known as my first year at theatre camp. Only ten years old at the time, we both were cast as two of the three blind mice in Shrek the Musical and had been inseparable ever since. Although we attended different middle schools, our friendship grew from our shared vocal and dance lessons as well as our summers at camp. You know how it is; those who end up in the ensemble together stay together.

Going over the dance moves in my head, I didn’t hear my friend’s voice calling my name. He gripped my shoulder, the action surprising me to the point where I lost my balance. I yelped and shut my eyes, expecting to fall onto the hard ground but a hand grabbing onto my wrist prevented my doom. With an arm around my waist, I barely missed the ground.

Slowly opening my eyes, I glanced up to see Jung Jaehyun looking down at me with a worried gaze. He was just a sixteen-year-old boy dressed as a spoon and yet, the world around us came to a halt. Gone were the other frantic theatre kids and the backstage messes. The couple playing Belle and the Beast was no longer sitting across from us, running through their lines. No hustle and bustle of the crew and the props masters.

It was just me dressed as a fork, falling down while my spoon for a best friend caught me in his arms.

“We make quite a pair, don’t we, Forky?” he chuckled lowly, hitting the top of his costume to mine. It was a ridiculous sight— a pair of oversized cutlery in a crowded dressing room.

A burning hot sensation crept its way up to my face as he gently pulled me up. “I guess we do.”

Since then, my life has never been the same. I was in love with my best friend, Jung Jaehyun. I fell for him when the world stopped spinning beneath my feet while his world, unfortunately, kept on turning.

I remember each and every slowed-down moment in life —the good, the bad, and the absolute worst. I never thought a bad slo-mo moment existed, I simply didn’t think it was possible.

I was young and naive then and I was so incredibly wrong.

The moment that hurt me most took place in my senior year of high school. The final callbacks for our community’s production of Disney’s Newsies were in order. The role of Jack Kelly, the headstrong and flirty newsboy, was easily given to the ever-so-charming Jung Jaehyun. He was not only my best friend at the time but he was the it-boy of our small theatre. People were either in love with him or wanted to be him— his talent matched his insane looks. His kind personality made him all the more lovable.

Jaehyun had his two fatal flaws, though. Everyone knew them but still saw him in such a bright light.

One: the boy was extremely clumsy. Jaehyun was often called “magic hands,” constantly ruining his props. It was a running gag in the theatre but the props committee never minded; one smile was all it took for them to forgive him and his cursed hands.

That was his first flaw. And his second? Jaehyun fell in love way too easily and way too fast.

How exactly did I find this out? Well, I was there to witness the scene that lifted his heart to the highest of levels while mine dropped straight to the ground.

I was in the running for the stubbornly intelligent female lead named Katherine Plumber. My opponent was the confident and radiant Son Wendy. She always played the lead in her high school productions but this was a community musical and I was determined to claim that part as my own.

I went first, entering the audition room with a smile with the script gripped tightly in my palm. Performing alongside my best friend was easy. The romantic scene was a piece of cake, not because the lines were a breeze. That wasn’t it at all. It wasn’t because I memorized the Newsies script as a child either. It was because, at that moment, Jung Jaehyun was in love with me as much as I was in love with him. It was a moment I wanted to cherish forever: the way he looked at me was something I had never experienced before. It was so full of emotion and passion, like he had me within his grasp and never wanted to let me go.

“You got this. I believe in you,” he whispered in my ear, squeezing my hand in support. His breath tickled my skin and sent shivers down my spine. The nerves were back, not because of the audition, but because of him.

“You’re just saying that because it’s the scene we’re about to act out, Jae,” I hissed. The sheet music for the duet, Something to Believe In, wrinkled in my free palm.

His warm, comforting hand pressed harder against my own. “No, it’s not that. If you need someone to believe in you, I’m right here. I’ve got you, Forky. Always.”

The director cleared his throat from his seat, his scrutinizing eyes watching us closely as we got into position, just like we rehearsed a thousand times. “Whenever you’re ready.”

I watched as Jaehyun took a deep breath to get into character. He closed his eyes, rolled his broad shoulders back, and then his lids snapped open. His brown-eyed gaze aimed straight at me, with a vulnerable expression taking over his features. He was no longer Jung Jaehyun— he was Jack Kelly, a scared newsboy who was in love with a newspaper company heiress.

The line came pouring out of his mouth with the utmost sincerity, the confusion and affection seeping through his words, “Just standing here tonight, looking at you, I’m scared tomorrow is gonna come and change everything.”

Jaehyun took a step forward towards me, an unsure smile curling on his lips. “If there was a way I could just grab hold of something to make time stop just so I could keep looking at you.”

His body stops right in front of mine, keeping a clear distance but enough to feel the passion radiating off of his words and actions. For once in my young life, my best friend looked at me with a different kind of love in his eyes and I returned it, my genuine feelings seeping through my words.

Biting my lip, I replied coyly, “You snuck up on me, Jack Kelly, I never even saw it coming.”

“For sure?” he stage-whispered. His upstage hand unexpectedly reached up to caress my cheek. The action was unrehearsed, almost catching me off guard. It was a different take on the scene. The characters were supposed to be shy, their thoughts wavering on their own feelings for each other and the impending strike that was to come the day after; yet, Jaehyun played Jack as someone certain of his feelings.

“For sure,” I answered back at the same volume, my hand cupping his own to follow along with his direction. It felt as if he was searching my soul for my thoughts and I could not let him in. The opening bars of the romantic duet echoed throughout the room and after taking a breath, I began to sing. Jaehyun joined in on the second verse and instantly, our voices blended together in a beautiful harmony, one that beat our Newsies karaoke sessions in his car.

The scene ended as quickly as it began. The director hummed before jotting notes down and whispering to his casting assistants for a few seconds. I thought they were the longest seconds of my life. Jaehyun nodded his head to reassure me. “You did well, Forky.”

“Of course I did, it’s me we’re talking about here,” I nudged him back. “I can do no wrong, Jae!”

“Thank you,” the director finally spoke, “you may go. Jaehyun, if you could escort her out and fetch Wendy for me?”

“Of course,” your friend nodded. The feeling of his large hand on my back slowly guided me out of the room. The spot he touched me burned but my cheeks were burning even more. Why was it that every little touch drove me to the brink of insanity?

“You’re so going to land this part,” I remember him saying as he squeezed my waist. My heart was beating erratically against my ribcage, the butterflies in my stomach threatening to fly their way up my throat.

“You think so?”

“Oh definitely,” Jaehyun stressed with a wink.

He said it too soon.

Because the minute he locked gazes with Son Wendy, I just knew he had found his leading lady.

“S-Son Wendy?” he stuttered as he caught sight of the pretty girl in the waiting room. Her hair was styled similarly to a young maiden from the turn of the century, perfectly curled and out of her face.

“Yes?” she smiled back.

It seemed like the words were caught in my best friend’s throat. Sneaking a glance at Jaehyun’s ears, they burned a bright red. “We’re, um, we’re ready for you.”

I watched as Jaehyun nervously offered his arm to her, his eyes never leaving her face. It was like he was her own personal spotlight, the way his eyes shone just for the girl in front of him. The boy was completely enamored and I was instantly in the shadows. The sweet smile that was reserved for me was directed towards another and it sparkled in a way it never did before.

The world around me moved incredibly slow as they passed me by. With everything frozen, all I saw was the gorgeous couple headed to the audition room with hushed exchanges. Jaehyun took his time heading to the private room to spend more time with the girl while Son Wendy steadily made her way into my friend’s fragile heart. My own heart clenched at the sight. It was breaking ever so slowly and I felt every little crack and tear.

Even with the role of the understudy, it was as if I never even had a chance at winning his heart over. If Wendy wasn’t present for one rehearsal, Jaehyun didn’t even see me— his own best friend since our ensemble days. He was way too deep into his “showmance.” It was like I never even existed. It wasn’t long before he called Wendy his girlfriend and then, I was invisible. Cast aside. Ignored.

Needless to say, my heart broke in slow-motion as Jaehyun’s pounded rapidly for a girl that took two parts I desperately ached for: Katherine Plumber and the girl who held Jaehyun’s heart.

But this was just the first time his heart was stolen by his opposite. The first of many.

The first two years of university passed me by like a summer breeze. Constantly busy with general education and introductory drama courses, I was constantly flitting around from building to building. My hands were usually occupied by my laptop, a blazing cup of caffeinated tea, and a worn out script while my mind was filled with jumbled up lines and the dramatic cries of an overwhelmed university student. I probably wouldn’t have made it this far if it wasn’t for Jaehyun and Xiao Dejun, another theatre major we had met during orientation, by my side.

Fast forward to my third year and the three of us were headed to the office of the theatre department. It was posting day for the spring musical— the day the cast list was revealed. This year’s musical spectacular was Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella. The play itself was a modern classic and it was also my dream come true.

This day, just like any posting day of the drama department, was nerve-racking. Everyone was anxious to find out what parts they were given and how the fairytale would play out. The part of the brave and kind Ella was always on my list of roles I wanted to fill. As much as I thought I did well on my final callback, I didn’t want to set my hopes too high.

“Are you nervous?” Jaehyun asked while draping an arm over my shoulder. He playfully put all his weight onto his right side to throw me off balance.

“Nervous? Me? Why would I be nervous if I’m like 95% sure I’m going to get the understudy again?” I chuckled sarcastically. Bitterly. It happened every year, so why get my hopes up now?

“Yeah but—”

“No buts, I’ve accepted the title of the Wonderstudy! I think you should too, Jae,” I slapped his shoulder before quickly slipping out of his hold before linking arms with Dejun. My best friend let out a yelp, almost tripping over his own two feet as we continued down the hallway. “I’m mediocre at best.”

The Wonderstudy: it was the nickname the other students in the department gave me because I was always the understudy. I was never the star of the show. It said that I was good but not good enough.

Dejun leaned in and whispered, “You do know that you’re more than just that, right? You’re an actor. A phenomenal one. You weren’t accepted to this drama program by just being mediocre at best.”

I ignored my friend’s comment, eyes zoned in at the other end of the building. The crowd of usual theatre students crowded around the bulletin board, curious heads popping up and down trying to take a peek at the list. Some buzzed with excitement, happy they got a major part while others groaned in disappointment. You were most likely going to be with the later group.

Once the cluster of students caught sight of Jaehyun, they parted like the red sea to let him through. It wasn’t really necessary, though, everyone knew the it-boy of the drama department was cast as the role of the misguided prince, Topher.

The only question was: who was cast as his princess? Who was this year’s Ella?

I fought my way through the bunch with Dejun following behind me as our best friend was showered with congratulations. Jaehyun was all smiles, dimples prominent as he was lavished by the mass. Dejun made it to the list first. His finger dragged along the thin paper until he found his name. He cheered, pumping his fist up in joy. “I got the part I wanted! I’m Jean-Michel!”

Grinning at my friend, I sincerely congratulated him. He got the second lead: the feisty peasant looking for change. Turning again, his eyes grazed the list until Dejun found my name. His smile dropped ever so slightly and that was when I knew: I was beaten once again.

“What part did I get?”

“Gabrielle,” he answered. Ah, the outwardly abrasive but quietly empathetic sister. The second lead, love interest of Jean-Michel. At least I was playing Dejun’s opposite.

I took a step closer, wondering who took the part of the kind princess. Squinting at the small print, my eyes scanned the jumble of words until I saw it.

Ella……………………….Lee Naeun Ella u/s………………….Y/N

I scoffed. Forever the understudy. The Wonderstudy of the Theatre Department indeed.

The first rehearsal, otherwise known as the read-through, took a toll on me. It was usually a two to three hour long session, filled with loud chatter, crazy introductions, and a variety of crazy theatre games to break the ice. When the niceties ended, everyone took their seats in their plastic chairs that were arranged in a huge circle. Bae Joohyun, the head stage manager began reading the stage directions aloud as the table read began. The production’s director, Professor O’Hare, sat alongside Joohyun, jotting down notes and giving out commentary when needed.

Amongst the reading of lines were tiny whispers, the sound of highlighters and pencils marking the paper, and the simultaneous turning of pages. The music director, Professor Lau sat at the piano bench and sight-read the music to give the cast a taste of the songs. Being the first rehearsal, the few who knew of the songs sang along to the accompaniment with joyous smiles, myself and Dejun included.

When Professor Lau played the first romantic duet between the leads, all heads turned to Jaehyun and Naeun who sat side-by-side. With it being their first time together, the performance was far from perfect but it was still something. His lower tone blended nicely with her softer voice and the shy glances they exchanged made their duet quite a sight.

As Jaehyun and Naeun read the last lines for Act One, I noticed the way Jaehyun’s gaze kept flittering back to Naeun’s pretty face. The girl was focused on her lines, head down and hair blocking her gorgeous features, but he still kept looking at her and only her. I could imagine how the scene was playing out in his head, the world slowing down until Naeun was the only one moving. He was infatuated. Twitterpated.

And it hurt. It hurt more than reading the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet or listening to Elphaba’s desperate cry she lets out when she loses Fiyero. Call me dramatic but that was how I felt.

It wasn’t like I tried getting over him. It wasn’t like I tried dating other people before; I had many, many times but my mind always drifted back to my best friend. He was the boy with the richest brown eyes, the perfectly dimpled smile, and the lowest laugh that set my heart aflame. Without even knowing it, Jaehyun had this incredible hold on my broken heart and he would not let me out of his grip.

The green-eyed monster inside me resurfaced and I hated it. I absolutely hated it— why was I so pathetically in love with my best friend?

“Here we go again,” I said before dropping my head onto the table.

“You say that every time and you keep running back to him at the end of the day,” Dejun whispered before looking back down at his script. His hand continued to jet across the page, his highlighter marking his many lines.

Rolling up the script in my hand, I whacked his side. The action caused his hand to jerk the bright marker in another direction, striking a distorted line on his page. “Look what you did, twerp!” he hissed.

“Your fault, Eyebrows!”

“Stop calling me that, you fork!”

“Hey, only I can call her fork!” Jaehyun appeared out of nowhere, plopping alongside me. His voice snapped us out of our little argument, making us realize that the director called for a fifteen.

“That’s only because you’re a dumb spoon,” I stuck my tongue out at him. Jaehyun pretended to reach for it and I blew a raspberry at him to retaliate.

“You two idiots are my favorite cutlery set,” Dejun shook his head with a laugh. He was probably wondering why he stuck around us the majority of the time.

“Let off it, Dejun,” Jaehyun said with the roll of his brown orbs.

“Only if you let me be the knife to your set.”

“As if, dumbass,” I countered with a laugh.

“Okay but you guys, can we stop fighting for a sec and talk about how I got her number?” Jaehyun beamed, throwing his arms over both our shoulders. He pulled us closer to his body and the faint smell of his musky cologne hit my nose. I held back a sigh as it filled my senses. Oh, to be drowned in his scent.

“I got Naeun’s number!” he repeated excitedly, his strong arms shaking us. I held back my abrupt want to push him off. I wasn’t in a celebrating mood. My heart was too broken to care.

“Of course you did, when do you not get a girl’s number?” I answered a bit too bitterly. Raising a brow at him, I added, “Are we supposed to be surprised?”

“Listen,” Jaehyun countered, pulling back from me. “I don’t like that attitude, Forky.”

I scoffed, “Never stopped you from being my friend before, Jae.”

Jaehyun didn’t answer; he was too busy clutching his phone. His pretty brown eyes were fixed on Naeun’s contact page like it was the world’s greatest treasure. His eyes were sparkling in admiration before his gaze turned to the girl across the room. The look my best friend wore on his face was soft, the smile on his lips light. “I think she could be the one.”

Some thought him to be a player but I never thought of him that way. He might have had the looks of a heartbreaker but he had the purest heart of gold. The boy with the dimpled smile, porcelain skin, and cheeks as red as roses was a hopeless romantic to his very core. He was simply looking for his other half.

“I think she could be the one.” His words repeated in my head, his voice pestering me. My heart lurched at them despite hearing them each semester.

Jaehyun said this every year, with every girl. He said this when he crushed on Son Wendy, Kim Chungha, and so many more. His infatuations and crushes ended just as easily as they started. The boy was more than disappointed when the initial spark with each girl ended after a show’s run ended. When the musical closed, so did his feelings for each opposite.

I never got stage fright; I was usually the one who said what was on her mind without a moment’s hesitation. So why was I hesitating to tell him my feelings?

Why was I hesitating to say that the one Jaehyun could be looking for was standing right next to him?

Just another rehearsal at the auditorium.

Just another day watching my best friend fall for his leading lady.

Jaehyun and Naeun were standing in the middle of the stage, the ensemble surrounding them. He stood behind her, his hands gently placed on her waist while she leaned back into his touch. Naeun was wearing a fluffy tulle skirt, a mock-up of her ballgown. Park Sooyoung, the resident fashion major and lead costume designer, pushed her to wear it so she could get used to the estimated size of her dress. Even in a mere tank top and tulle skirt, Lee Naeun looked like a princess.

Professor Kwon, the choreographer of the production, stood at the end with a watchful eye. She counted them off, walking them through the routine while the rest of us practiced our steps off to the sidelines.

Once the two main characters got the hang of their steps, Professor Kwon motioned for Professor Lau to play the songs from the beginning. As much as I tried to focus on my own dance moves, my mind kept wandering back to Jaehyun.

Imagining him under the spotlight in a perfectly tailored suit, a crown sitting on his head, extending his arm out not to Naeun but to me. It was one of those movie moments where the characters and the audience watching fell in love.

If life was like a movie, things would be so much easier.

So lost in my thoughts, I missed a count and stepped on my partner’s foot. Muttering a quiet sorry to him, we continued on with the routine. As my partner swirled me around the dance floor, I drifted back into my daydream.

My utterly impossible daydream where I was the girl Jung Jaehyun was infatuated with. Although this play talked about impossible things happening everyday, I couldn’t imagine this ever happening.

The terrible thing about being a theatre major in university was being a theatre major with midterms. Not only did I have to deal with hours of my back hunched over a desk and scattered study materials, I had to spend half of my days in the school’s theatre rehearsing.

If I was not in class scribbling down last minute notes in notebooks, I was learning dance routines or running lines on and off stage alongside Dejun. The days were long and the nights were even longer. Sometimes, the cast fell asleep in the seats of the auditorium while rehearsals were going on. We were all losing sleep. Some of us were losing our sanity but hey, welcome to the theatre.

My schedule was filled to the brim and I wasn’t even the main character of the show. On top of that, I had to memorize the part of Ella. Not that it was really needed in the first place.

No one ever stepped down from a lead role while I was their backup. It just didn’t happen.

Despite the hectic lives of belonging to the theatre department, the musical was two months into production and everything was running smoothly. With a month and a left until opening night, everyone was off-book and the initial stage blocking was done. The costuming and makeup committee were finishing up their mock-up designs and the student orchestra sounded divine.

I saw more of Dejun than Jaehyun lately, my best friend being preoccupied with his new love interest before, during, and after rehearsals. I was cast aside once again.

Was it something out of the ordinary? No.

Did it still hurt? Yes.

Did I do anything about it? Absolutely not. I didn’t want to ruin his happiness. I rather suffer than see him as nothing but joyous, even if the happiness was temporary. The grin he wore when he was in love was too beautiful to rip away. Jaehyun shined like the light from the sun. I could never bring myself to do it.

It was week eight of rehearsals when I stepped out of my last midterm, my head absolutely empty after reading small text for over an hour. Reaching into my backpack’s front pocket, I pulled out my cell phone and quickly turned it on. My screen was flooded with missed calls and texts from Professor O’Hare, Joohyun, Jaehyun, and Dejun, the notification numbers reaching over a hundred total.

Something must have happened. Talk about a theatre emergency. Knowing our kind, they were probably being overdramatic.

Just as I was about to unlock my phone, a video call went through. It was Dejun. Rolling my eyes, I slid my finger across the screen to answer it. “Jeez, I know you love me but give a girl a break, Eyebrows!”

“God, you’re so conceited sometimes. Why didn’t you answer my calls?!” He shouted, face close to the phone. I winced at the volume, immediately lowering the level as I slipped on my wireless earbuds. “There are important matters to discuss here!”

“What happened this time? Did someone say Macbeth in the theatre again? You know I don’t believe in that shit,” I said sarcastically.

“Oh my god. This is not the time for jokes! Everyone’s been trying to reach you!” Xiaojun yelled once more. “Where are you?!”

“I just got out of my musical history midterm in Maple Hall. Heading to the theatre right now. Why?” I never received an answer; Dejun hung up the call. Giving my phone a weird look, I shoved it in my pocket before continuing on my way. A light push on my back prevented me from going too far.

“Twerp!” Xiao Dejun’s voice came from behind me, yanking me by the straps of my backpack. He was breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. “Oh my god, we’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he said in between heavy breaths.

Crossing my arms, I cocked a brow at him. “Why’s that?”

Dejun placed a hand on my shoulder for support. The words came flying out of his mouth, I almost couldn’t catch what he was saying. So much for being a theatre major.

“Speak clearly, Dejun. Enunciate, articulate, exaggerate, remember? We are thespians and thespians do not mumble!”

The exhausted boy ignored my theatricals. “Naeun didn’t land a switch leap right and she rolled her ankle during advanced ballet. She’s going to be out for at least three to four weeks,” my friend replied breathily, his words a lot clearer than before.

The news shocked me to the core, my feet suddenly planted to the ground. It sounded like he said Naeun was out of commission. “What?”

“She’s out for three to four weeks! I mean sucks for her, I wish her a speedy recovery but do you know what this means?”

The lack of response from me urged him to continue, “Sweetheart, she’s out. You’re in!”

Oh shit. I was in.

The part I had always dreamed of was mine. The lead role was finally mine.

I was now Ella and Jung Jaehyun was my Prince Topher.

Having an understudy step up to their role halfway through production was always something to get used to. It was a setback, a minor one, but still a setback. Just as Jaehyun finally settled into his role and built an unshakeable bond with Lee Naeun as his opposite, the accident happened. His potential girlfriend was now out of the show and off her feet in order to push for a speedy recovery.

The lovesick boy couldn’t even be there for her because his rehearsal times increased in order to get his best friend adjusted to your new role. There he was, leaning against the piano while waiting for you to arrive.

Professor Lau sat at the bench, flipping through his sheet music until he found the song he was looking for.

The door slammed open and you stumbled in. “Am I late? I’m sorry, I just heard the news.”

“No, not at all. You’re right on time,” the professor smiled at you. “The situation’s weird, I know but congratulations on getting Ella.”

“Thanks, Professor. That means a lot,” you grinned back.

Dropping your bag by the piano, you swiftly pulled out the script. You glanced at Jaehyun’s opened book for the page number before hastily flipping through the pages. Jaehyun nudged your side. “Hey, Forky.”

“Hey yourself,” you elbowed him back, biting your bottom lip.

“Congrats, bubs. You did it,” he pulled you into a side hug before ruffling your hair with pride. You had finally gotten a part you wanted. It was your time to shine. As your best friend for many years, Jaehyun had been waiting for the day you could show the crowds your full potential.

“Did I really do it or did your girlfriend just get injured? How is she, by the way?”

As much as you tried to play the overdramatic, conceited girl, you never believed in yourself but Jaehyun always did. You deserve the spotlight; your talent was out of this world and the masses were finally granted a chance to see you for what you were— a star.

“You did this. You were made for this part as much as she was,” Jaehyun reassured his best friend with a smile. He tapped your nose. “And she’s not my girlfriend but she’s doing alright. Just in a little bit of pain. I’m going to see her after we finish.”

“Give her some well wishes for me,” you answered. Jaehyun didn’t notice your smile dropping into a small frown.

“You ready to act like you’re in love with me?”

“I was born ready, you doof.” There was something weird in your voice when those words left your lips but Jaehyun didn’t have time to process it.

Professor Lau guided the students through a series of warm-ups before asking, “Shall we start with Do I Love You Because You’re Beautiful today? We’ll do a couple of run-throughs before Jaehyun teaches you the blocking.” His fingers played the beginning notes of the song, the light melody drifting to their ears.

Already off book at this point, Jaehyun closed his eyes and began to sing.

Do I love you because you’re beautiful? Or are you beautiful because I love you?

Am I making believe I see in you A girl too lovely to be really true?

Do I want you because you’re wonderful? Or are you wonderful because I want you?

Are you the sweet invention of a lover’s dream? Or are you really as wonderful as you seem?

When his eyes fluttered open, Jaehyun found himself facing you with a script in hand. Your face wore the softest look as you stared back at him. His breath almost caught in his throat at the gentle smile you wore. You played the part differently from Naeun and it was a refreshing sight to behold. You were playing a confused peasant but your eyes still sparkled with the gleam of a thousand suns.

There was a flush of heat that started from his cheeks and extended to his reddening ears. His heart was doing its best to break out of his ribcage and the star of the show wasn’t sure if his chest could keep it in for very much longer.

When singing with him, Naeun was a pretty princess.

But when he sang with you, the girl in front of him? Jaehyun thought you were absolutely breathtaking.

Two hours later, we were finally free of rehearsals. My first rehearsal as Ella. My throat was a bit parched from all the singing and projecting I was doing but I felt lighter than air. Singing with Jaehyun made me feel lighter than air. I was weightless, nothing could hold me down.

“Forky, you’re really good,” he said to me as we walked to our cars. I tried to fight the sudden heat making its way to my face. Lately, compliments from him were hard to come by.

It was already late when O’Hare and Lau finally let us out, the moon sitting high in the sky. The night breeze crept its way into my thin jacket, causing me to hug myself to retain some warmth. Noticing my struggle with the cold, Jaehyun quickly draped his jacket over my shoulders. I was immediately hit with his familiar scent, it was almost overwhelming. I should be used to this, his action of sharing his clothes with me was nothing new but I was weak. It affected me every single time. I guess I was that head over heels for him.

Head over glass heels, one could even say.

“You’ve seen me in action before and I mean, I was chosen to be the understudy for a reason,” I gave him a shrug.

“Yeah but I’ve never seen you act and sing like that. Just...wow.” Stealing a glance at him, Jaehyun almost looked enamored with me. He was giving me a look that was usually reserved for someone else. I felt my heartbeat pick up in my chest and flutters in my stomach.

“Stop that,” I blushed, pinching his skin through the thin material of his long-sleeved shirt. A satisfying buzz ran through my body. Was he really looking at me like that? I was probably reading too much into it.

“No, but it seemed so real. Like you weren’t pretending.”

“That’s because I wasn’t,” I whispered under my breath as we arrived at our cars.

“Hmm, you say something?” Jaehyun asked, leaning closer to hear me.

Shaking my feelings away, I ignored the dull ache in my chest and acted through the tears I was desperately holding in. I wrinkled my nose at him playfully, secretly pushing the pain down my throat. “You really don’t listen to a word I say, do you, Jae? I said, I’ll see you later.”

“See ya, Forky! Get home safely!”

Scoffing to myself, I realized how much of a great actor I was. I deserved an Oscar or a Tony for the scenes I played out, the ones where I pretended to be okay when I was far from it.

What award do you ask? Best Actress in a Supporting Role— the best friend to Jung Jaehyun but never the love of his life.

Wardrobe fittings for productions were always an exciting day for the whole cast and crew. It was one step closer to putting on a show. Jaehyun was already dressed in one of his many costumes, a white suit with golden trimmings. It fit him for the most part, only tiny adjustments were needed. Members of the wardrobe department quickly pinned his neatly pressed jacket before taking it off his hands. Since he was the main character, Jaehyun was one of the first ones done. He was simply waiting for you to come out in your first dress— the white gown for the ball scene in Act One.

When you finally did all those minutes ago, Jaehyun swore his heart stopped.

Ten minutes ago, Jaehyun saw his best friend walk through the curtains. Your face was bare, hair still in that lazy style you always sported but your clothes. The comfy clothing you usually rehearsed in was gone and replaced by a beautiful ball gown. Despite the pins that scattered throughout the material to fit your form, it still appeared majestic. There you were, standing before him and the rest of the cast, and you were the loveliest you had ever been.

Ten minutes ago, you walked in and his head was reeling. Time slowed down as you tentatively made your way towards him. You did not meet his eyes but Jaehyun was dying to catch your gaze. He never wanted to let you out of his sight. The picture of his best friend in white was something he wanted to treasure and suddenly, the slowness around him stopped. The cast’s cheers and squeals disappeared. There was only you in that beautiful ball gown.

Was this the slow-motion moment you always talked about? The one you always dreamed about experiencing? Jaehyun could see why people thought it to be magic. It was almost like a movie, movie magic if you will.

Another look at you and then Jaehyun was in the future, watching you make her way down the aisle. A thin veil covered your face and he was so tempted to push it away from concealing your dazzling smile. His heart was fighting its way out of his chest, wanting to head down the path straight to you. How he wanted to reach out and touch you, cradle you in his arms.

You were truly an angel in white. A princess. A queen.

The mere sight of you took him to the skies, the one place he was sure you were from. Although Jaehyun would never admit it, he always thought you to be beautiful. Throughout the many years of being best friends, he would find his gaze subconsciously drifting to you. He would rip it away before you would ever notice him doing so, knowing you would tease the hell out of him for it— it was his own little secret tucked away into the corners of his beating heart.

“How do I look?” Your question snapped him out of his daydream and back to reality. Back down to earth.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“Oh my god, you stupid spoon! I said, how do I look?”

“Lovely,” he answered sincerely, his brown eyes digging into your own. “You look absolutely lovely.”

Ten minutes ago, you simply murmured a question while Jung Jaehyun came to a realization. The realization that he might’ve fallen for you: his Forky, his best friend.

The loveliest girl he had ever seen.

With Cinderella’s opening night being only a few weeks out, you and Jaehyun decided to fit in extra time together to run lines and songs outside of scheduled rehearsals. That was the plan for every weekend and that particular Saturday was no exception to this plan. When his doorbell rang frantically, Jaehyun groaned loudly before getting up to answer the door. Did you always have to be so obnoxious?

Just as the door swung open, your loud voice boomed into his apartment, “‘Sup, ho! Ready to rehearse the hell out of this show or what?”

He stepped aside to let you in and you immediately made yourself comfortable in his humble abode. Jaehyun almost laughed as he watched you. There was a particular routine you stuck to when visiting his place. First, you would take off your shoes, slip on your personal pair of slippers you left at his house, drop your bag on the kitchen counter, and then open his fridge to raid his food supply.

Precisely as Jaehyun predicted, you waddled to the fridge in your memory-foam duck slippers and stole one of his yakults. He loved how comfortable you were in his home. It was truly a heart-warming sight. The act itself was extremely domestic and he quite liked the domesticity when it was with you. That flash of you in a wedding gown came back to him and he blushed at the thought. The idea of spending a future together was flooding his brain recently and he didn’t know what to do.

You weren’t the one he liked. Naeun was but why were you the only person on his mind? Was it wrong to have you in his mind? Naeun wasn’t his girlfriend— they were still getting to know each other. His time with her decreased over time since you had stepped into the role of Ella. He was very fond of you. He always had been. There was this little piece of his heart that was reserved for you but was it because you were his best friend or was it more?

Jaehyun quickly snapped himself out of it.

“First of all, I’m not a ho,” he said before grabbing a yakult of his own. He poked the straw through the foil a bit too harshly, the liquid splashing over the top. Damn his strength— now half of his drink was gone. “Second, stop slut-shaming me for my dating choices. It’s 2021. If I wanted to be a ho, I could be a ho.”

You rolled your eyes as you took a sip of your drink. “God, I hate you sometimes.”

“You need to stop lying to yourself, I know you’re hopelessly in love with me,” Jaehyun said, pointing his drink towards you. He caught you rolling your eyes at his answer.

“Oh, you’re absolutely right. I am irrevocably in love with you, Jung Jaehyun,” you said sarcastically, dramatically batting your eyelashes his way. Your confession, despite being a sarcastic statement, left his heart racing against time.

“Alexa, play Hopelessly Devoted to You!” you yelled ironically.

“Now playing Hopelessly Devoted to You by Olivia Newton-John,” an electronic voice boomed across his living room before the opening notes of the ballad began to play.

“Shit! I forgot you actually had an Echo,” you jumped, not expecting that at all. Jaehyun chuckled at your reaction, loving how easily you scare. He always thought it was one of your cuter traits.

“Alexa, stop!” he called.

Jaehyun ran a hand through his hair. He dragged his feet to his bedroom, knowing you would follow without a word. “I can’t rehearse today, I have to write this damned analysis paper for a class. It’s due in two days.”

“I’m sorry, is that paper more important than your best friend in the entire world?” you pushed from behind him.

“Yes,” he deadpanned, taking a seat at his desk. Jaehyun’s study area was an absolute mess. His notebooks were scattered around the floor, textbooks opened to random pages, and his laptop opened to a google document.

“That’s a motherfucking lie and you know it.”

“I really can’t rehearse now, Forky,” he sighed.

He glared at you as you theatrically fell onto his bed. The notes spread out on his bed flying to the floor. “Oh, woe is me! Jung Jaehyun cannot give me the time of day to rehearse. What am I to do?”

“Why are you like this?”

“I’m a theatre student, I’m wired to be this obnoxious,” you said with a straight face.

He stared at you through narrowed eyes. “I really hate you right now.”

“I know,” you countered with a flat tone. “But in all seriousness, Jaehyun. I won’t take too much of your time. I just wanted to practice our duets a couple of times and then I’ll be out of your hair. Plus, you look like you need a break.”

One look at you and he was a goner. How could he ever say no to his best friend?

“Ugh, fine.”

“Ha, I knew you would cave.”

“Shut up.”

The next hour with you was spent rehearsing the numbers. During the last run-through, Jaehyun suggested going over the blocking and putting their all in it. To act like it was opening night. You swiftly agreed and he played the music from the top.

Jaehyun led you around his room, spinning you across the floor as you sang. The smile on your face was so lovely, he could not take his eyes off your lips. His eyes fluttered to a close and he imagined you in your full costume, downed in your gown, as dainty as a daisy and as graceful as a bird. The thought of you dressed like a princess drove him crazy.

He never thought of Naeun this way. This was different. You were different but why?

Jaehyun opened his eyes to see you smiling so gracefully at him as the song was coming to an end. Just as planned in the show, your gaze flitted to his lips. You leaned closer and he followed, dipping his head to meet you halfway. His heart was skipping to its own beat as he inched down. Your soft lips brushed against his oh-so-gently as he held you in his arms but before the boy could press back, the door to his room swung open.

You broke away from him, shocked at the sudden arrival to see your other friend and Jaehyun’s roommate, Dejun. “Oops, was I interrupting something?”

“I, uh, I gotta go.” Before you could even stop him, Jaehyun grabbed his wallet and phone off his desk and ran out his room.

Confusion clouded his senses. Why did he feel empty after you pulled away? Why did he want to kiss you so badly? It was just a stage kiss.

Was it not?

Jaehyun’s door slammed shut behind him, leaving me and Dejun in his room. It wasn’t long before we heard the front door close, too. “Well, that was something,” Dejun said after his roommate shuffled out of the apartment.

“Shut up, Xiao Dejun,” I replied, smacking his arm.

My friend lifted his arms up in defense before he gave me a pointed stare. “I’m just saying, the two of you looked really into it. It looked great, to be honest with you. No notes to give here— I’m sure O’Hare and Lau would say the same.”

“It’s just acting,” I tried to shrug it off.

“Stop lying to yourself.”

“I’m not!”

“Bulltshit. I saw the way he looked at you— that’s not acting, twerp,” Dejun declared, his voice dropping. His voice never dipped in tone unless he was serious and in that moment, he was dead serious. My friend sounded like a frustrated tutor deliberately explaining a concept for the fifth time and I was the stubborn student who just didn’t understand.

“Yes, yes it is!”

“No, it’s not because that’s how he always looked at you!”

“Lies!” I yelled accusingly, “We got Liza Minnelli over here!”

“God, you’re so annoying sometimes! Why won’t you confess? Cat got your tongue? Nothing’s really stopped your sharp tongue before,” Dejun groaned at my stubbornness. He slapped a hand onto my shoulder. I tried to shrug him off but his grip was too strong. Maybe it was him trying to help me get a grip. Who knew? I honestly didn’t.

“It’s not like I haven’t tried, you know?” An exasperated answer left my lips. I was tired. So ridiculously tired of dealing with these feelings for my best friend. It had been four years since I fell for him. Four years of trying to see other people, four years of trying to confess, and four long years of failing every time. “I just freeze up like a deer in headlights or like you did when you performed that one monologue sophomore year in voice and movement class. Remember that, Jun?”

I felt his sharp glare burning a hole in my back. “You promised to never talk about that moment, you traitor,” he hissed, his hand squeezing the hell out of my shoulder.

“Okay yeah but you get the point, right?” My nails dug into his skin, leaving little indents onto his hand. He yelped, finally jerking his hand back to examine it. Shaking my head, I added, “Plus, he’s my best friend. I just can’t do it!”

“So, what you’re saying is that you choose friendship over the possibility of him loving you?”

“It’s just...I don’t know—” I started, shifting my body to face him, “—choosing friendship means that I’ll only lose love. But if I chose to confess and put my feelings out there, I could lose him as a potential lover and my best friend. I’m not prepared for that. I don’t think I ever will be.”

And there it was again. The self-doubt hit me, imposter syndrome resurfacing at an all time high, bringing me to the lowest of lows.

The feeling of being a fraud, of being not good enough.

For Jaehyun. For any love interest for that matter. For the role of Ella. For taking my place under the spotlight.

“Dejun?”

“Hmm?”

“Am I—am I good enough?”

“For?”

“I—I don’t know—” I stuttered as my mind was consumed by my own crippling thoughts. I tried to stay strong but the crack in my voice gave me away, “—for anything? Everything?”

“Oh, twerp,” Dejun said in that particular voice and then that was when the floodgates opened. The tears just came pouring down with no sign of stopping. My friend gently pulled me into his comforting arms. They were snug and I felt safe but not as safe as I did in Jaehyun’s hold.

“You, my darling, are definitely good enough. Don’t let your thoughts tell you otherwise.” Although his voice was comforting, it did not help the unhinged thoughts running through my brain.

“Then, why does it always hurt when I don’t get the role of the leading lady? Of his leading lady? I always get so far and then, at the end of the day, I’m just not what they’re looking for. What he’s looking for.” Pining for something so unimaginable was too taxing. Having the lead role in a play and having Jung Jaehyun wear his heart on his sleeve just for me.

“Sometimes, the roles aren’t made for you and that’s okay.”

“But what about this one?”

“This one, twerp, this one is a little different.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because there is music in you; it goes hand in hand with Jaehyun, like a melody to his harmony. You are his Ella and he’s your Topher,” Dejun urged. It was like he was begging me to not give up hope.

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m really not. You just gotta do what the theatre gods tell us to do: just trust the process.”

How could I trust the process when all it did was hurt me by allowing me to have a glimpse of a love and a life that would never be mine?

Opening night finally arrived. Everyone was called to the theatre for a full run through in the afternoon: the final dress rehearsal hours before the doors opened and the curtains were drawn. I had gotten there earlier to soak in the calmness of the empty auditorium before the chaos began.

I heard heavy footsteps come from behind me. Even without turning around, I knew it to be Jaehyun. The boy took a seat next to me on the wooden prop walls that were locked into the ground. If the stage managers and props committee saw us, they would’ve definitely ripped our heads off but they weren’t— it was just us.

“Penny for your thoughts, my dear Ella?”

“Topher,” I answered, playing along with his game. “Lovely to see you here bright at early.”

“I knew you would be here and I wanted to be here with you,” he said, pulling me into a side hug. Jaehyun knew me well but did he know me well enough? “Spill it, Forky. What’s wrong?”

“Sometimes I still doubt myself,” I said a little too fast. A loud sigh followed my reveal. The crippling doubt was always there, haunting me. Let me tell you, it was not the best thing in the world to have during an opening for a new production.

“Oh yeah?” Jaehyun asked, pushing me to continue. I felt the soft brush of his palm against my hand. His fingers grabbed hold of my wrist before fighting their way to tangle with my own fingers. The sensation tickled, taking me away from my thoughts for a fraction of a second. I played with his fingers, watching the way his pinkish hand fit with mine.

I refused to look at him; I was too afraid of breaking down.“Doubting myself, my abilities. Always the understudy, never the star, remember?”

Jaehyun hummed. He rested his chin on my shoulder. “Did something change?”

“Yeah, I finally realized that maybe it wasn’t that I wasn’t right for the part; the part wasn’t right for me,” I laughed a bit dryly. “Does that make any sense?”

“Weirdly, yes,” he replied, his breath blowing against my neck. I tried to ignore the tickling sensation and the way it made me feel.

“But this is different— I feel like I was made to play Ella. Made to play her even though I got the part in this odd, unconventional way,” I turned my head to the side to avoid eye contact. “The girl who sees the good in everything despite the hardships and suffering she went through.”

“Without a doubt, I believe that you belong on stage with me,” Jaehyun answered sincerely, “and I’m glad we have the chance to finally play opposites.”

He squeezed my smaller palm in support. I appreciated the reassurance; the action slightly calmed me down before she took the next step. Possibly the biggest step of my entire life. “There’s something else I realized, too.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Jaehyun asked softly.

Taking a deep breath, I said, “I realized that I could be right for you.”

It took him a minute, a long solid minute before Jaehyun could bring himself to respond to my confession. I wondered what he was thinking at that moment, when those words left my mouth. “Right for me?” came his tentative reply. A quick glimpse at his ears and I saw the burst of red. He was caught off guard, embarrassed.

“Yeah,” I said almost shamefully. Was I ashamed of my feelings? I never was ashamed before. Maybe it was because Jaehyun finally saw me for who I truly was— his highly dramatic best friend that was head over glass heels for him.

“How long— how long have you felt this way?” The red of his ears seeped to his rosy cheeks.

“Ever since we were a dumb pair of utensils,” I replied sincerely, my voice wavering at the truth, “a set of ridiculous tableware.”

There was an awkward chuckle that left his drying lips. I heard him click his tongue, a habit he did when Jaehyun never knew what to say. It seemed like I rendered him speechless. “Since we were sixteen? That long and you didn’t say anything?”

“You’re really asking me that?”

“Yes, I really am!”

“Jaehyun, c’mon. Use your brain! How was I supposed to? You’re my best friend and when you’re not my best friend, you’re out there chasing other girls,” I stopped to lick my drying lips. There was another inkling of silence and I gulped at how tense the atmosphere was. “And I thought maybe once, just once, you would chase after me, too.”

I almost laughed; my greatest desire was finally out in the world and it was greeted by silence.

“But what if I’m wrong for you?”

And there it was. The rejection I was preparing for. Giving him a pained smile that failed to meet my ears, I said, “Then that’s life, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Well, I can’t make you act like you’re in love with me, can I?” I snapped, my pain taking the best of me. It clouded my brain, blocking off all rational thoughts out of my head. “This isn’t a play or a movie with a script, Jaehyun. This is real fucking life.”

Hurt. I was being overwhelmed with a wave of hurt and anguish. My body was trembling as much as my eyes were. I felt them growing wet and I shut them closed. My hands curled into fists, nails digging into my skin. It stung but not as much as being rejected by the one you loved most. The lead of the movie in your mind.

“Wait, no, that’s not what I meant,” Jaehyun tried to stop me from getting off the stage. I pulled away from him, quickly snatching my belongings before heading to the nearest exit. Turning back around before I left the empty auditorium, I experienced another moment in slow-motion.

There Jaehyun was in all his glory— denim jacket slipping over his broad shoulders, dark brown hair sticking up in all directions and a confused look on his face. He looked like a mess under the spotlight of my mind but nevertheless, he was my mess of a best friend.

He was my mess of a best friend and that was all he was going to be. That fact hurt more than being the forever understudy.

Why couldn’t I fast forward this portion of my life? Why must I suffer this much?

Why couldn’t I escape the role of being second best?

If only my life was a movie, then maybe I wouldn’t be everyone’s second choice. His second choice.

If we were in a movie, Jung Jaehyun would be my best friend and my perfect match. Our story would be the typical friends-to-lovers saga that every girl dreams of. It would end happily with the credits rolling to a perfectly timed soundtrack.

Too bad this wasn’t a movie— this was real life and life came with complications.

After that confrontation, you and Jaehyun were off and not off the charts— just off. The directors noticed it. The stage hands noticed. The cast noticed it. The final run-through before the curtains opened just finished and it was an absolute disaster because of the way you acted with Jaehyun. Every time he opened up his body to you, the response you gave him was closed off. Cold.

To the rest of the cast and crew, the prince and princess didn’t seem very much in love that day— they didn’t even seem friendly. You and Jaehyun seemed like two strangers trying to work their way across a stage. There was no connection. There was nothing else there.

Now, if only you would let Jaehyun talk to you, maybe something would change but you didn’t. You ran away every chance you could. It was like Cinderella, but you didn’t leave a glass slipper behind. You didn’t leave anything behind.

Less than an hour before showtime and he couldn’t even talk to you. Let alone look at you. He sighed into his hand, palms applying pressure to his eyes. Jaehyun cursed under his breath, forgetting that he had a heavy amount of stage makeup on his face. Looking into the mirror, he saw his makeup was still intact. Thank the theatre gods for the Ben Nye Final Seal Setter. It seemed like that it was the only thing set in stone at that moment.

The door to Jaehyun’s dressing room slammed open and Dejun waltzed in, fully dressed in his costume.“Dude, what was up with you and the twerp during that dress rehearsal? You were so off!”

He received no reply, Jaehyun was too zoned out to hear. Dejun hopped onto the counter of Jaehyun’s dresser. Usually, the action would shock the main lead but Jaehyun was too lost in thought.“Well, you know what they say about a bad dress rehearsal. That means we’ll have a good opening night,” Dejun said, eyeing his friend for his lack of response.

Finally looking away from his reflection, Jaehyun glanced up at Dejun with a look of disbelief. “She likes me?”

His friend jumped off the counter with widened eyes.“Oh my god, did she finally confess? Was that why you were acting weird?”

“Dejun, you knew?” Jaehyun slammed his palms on his dresser. The makeup products on the tabletop shook, leaving the other guy to wince at the show of strength.

“Honestly for being the ace of the theatre department, you sure are dumb,” Dejun replied a bit too casually as he leaned into the mirror to examine his appearance. He clicked his tongue upon realizing his cheeks didn’t have enough color. The stage lights would wash him out. The boy reached for Jaehyun’s pink blush and a clean wedge before applying it onto the apples of his cheeks.

“What should I do?”

“Well, Jaehyun, what do you want to do?” Dejun asked, turning side to side to double-check his reflection.

“I don’t know that’s why I’m asking you!” Jaehyun fired back with vigor, hating how casual his best friend was acting. He was having a before-show crisis and his best friend was calmly stealing his bottle of Ben Nye, spraying his beautifully sculpted face with the setting spray.

“Well, do you like her more than a friend? And what about Naeun?”

“Yes? No? I don’t know! But—”

“But?” His friend asked before hopping onto the countertop. The actor raised his perfectly shaped eyebrows at his friend and Jaehyun had the sudden urge to pluck the beauties they were until Dejun had no eyebrow hair left. When Jaehyun didn’t reply, Dejun repeated his question.

Dropping his head in his hands, Jaehyun hesitantly replied, “There was this moment when I saw her and it was like that thing she always said? The slo-mo thing?”

Dejun’s head perked up. “You saw her in slow motion?”

“Yeah, it was like time stopped. All I saw was her and then…” Jaehyun thought back to seeing you in a wedding dress. He changed his mind; he didn’t want to talk about his feelings. All he wanted to do was make sure opening night ran as smoothly as possible. Grabbing his white suit jacket for the top of Act One, the boy stood up in an attempt to escape his friend’s sudden peak in curiosity. “Never mind, this is ridiculous. I gotta go, Dejun.”

“No, you’re not going anywhere until you actually confront your damn feelings,” Dejun said, shoving his friend back in his chair. “Do you like Naeun?”

There was a pause before he answered truthfully: “Yes.”

“Okay, and are your feelings for Naeun stronger than what you have for your best friend?”

“No,” Jaehyun released another sigh as he leaned back in his chair. A hand reached up to brush through his hair before he remembered that it was gelled back in place. He dropped his hand to rub the back of his neck, not wanting to mess with his looks before places. “I was infatuated with Naeun but with her, god, she’s something else and it took me this long to realize it.”

“How do I know you’re not just saying that?” Dejun questioned, squeezing his friend’s shoulders a bit too tightly. Jaehyun thought his friend was testing him and for a good reason. If he was in Dejun’s position, Jaehyun would’ve grilled his friend, too. “How do I know you’re actually in love with her? Yes, you’re my roommate and best friend but she’s my best friend, too. I can’t let you hurt her if all you feel is something temporary. I can’t let you treat her like those other girls.”

“Because she’s The One, Dejun. I’m certain of it,” Jaehyun snapped back. “When I look at her, I see everything I’ve been searching for. It’s like I was blind for the longest time, you know? She was always just Forky to me back when I didn’t know any better. But now I see and all I see is her— her, with all her flaws. The way she hides her insecurities with her dramatic outbursts. How she picks at her cuticles when she’s nervous or how she always steals my food at home. And the way she just fits with me. I can’t explain it.”

Jaehyun didn’t even give his friend a chance to butt in. He was still rambling on with a fond smile, his mouth running a mile. “She’s been there with me since the beginning, Jun. Before I was this prince of the theatre department, she was there. She’s been there since the beginning and even when I was chasing after girls, she was there at the middle of it all, and fuck, I want to go all the way to the end with her.”

Dejun released his hold on his friend and rolled his eyes. The boy made his way to the door of the dressing room before mumbling under his breath, “God, what is with you two and giving out monologues? I swear, when this is all over, you should become playwrights.”

“What?”

“Never mind me, Jaehyun,” Dejun opened the door and gestured for Jaehyun to follow the path— the path down the hall that led to you. “What are you waiting for? Go get her, we have 30 until Joohyun calls for places!”

“Dejun, it’s much more complicated than that.”

“It’s only as complicated as you make it out to be. Just— just go and talk to her, yeah?”

Jaehyun sighed deeply as he reached your dressing room door. He knocked lightly, running through the lines he wanted to say in his head before you shouted a faint “come in.” The door squeaked open to reveal you, his best friend in the whole entire world, touching up your makeup. The best friend that he was inescapably in love with. You watched him through the mirror as he leaned against the frame with crossed arms.

“Can we talk after the show? There’s something I need to tell you— it’s important. I don’t think I—um, I have enough time to tell you now,” Jaehyun asked, stuttering through his words. Gone was the confidence he usually bared. The only thing left in him was a scared little boy, afraid of the problem his words may cause.

The smile he received from you did not reach your ears. “Of course,” you replied curtly before turning away from him. He noted how you were over applying your blush and fidgeting with your costume. You were doing everything in your power to avoid him.

The tugging of your ear, the biting of your lip, the picking of your cuticles. He saw all your bad habits. You were a ball of nerves and the speaker announced it was ten minutes before places.

“Hey, Forky?”

“Yes, Jaehyun?”

“You know that I believe in you, right? Always?”

There was a twitch at the corner of your lips. “I do.”

“Good,” Jaehyun approached you with caution. You watched him from your mirror, never making direct eye contact as he came closer. He dropped a kiss on the crown on your head, relishing in the way his plush lips against your torn bandana and the lace front wig. “Break a leg, my Ella.”

He observed you through your reflection and took in how beautiful you looked in your rags. You made the rags the costume department designed for you look like riches.

“Same goes to you, my prince,” he heard you answer in that soft tone. Again, you had sent him to the skies and the boy was struggling to find his way back down.

When it was time to draw the curtains and light the lights for the first performance of Cinderella, it seemed like everything fell into place. Jaehyun stared at you across the stage, falling for the way the lights illuminated your figure in that white ball gown. The bright glow brought his attention to your bright grin, that beautiful and radiant smile of yours, that shocked him to his core.

Jaehyun locked eyes with you and suddenly, he was drowning. He was drowning in your expressive eyes. He was drowning in your overflowing love.

It was different being across from you in front of a full audience. There was a rush that took over him whenever he saw you and it beat the flurries his heart experienced with his other leading ladies. As you said your lines with that bewitching sparkle in your eye, Jaehyun hated himself for not realizing how much he loved you sooner or how you were never playing pretend.

But that was okay because Jung Jaehyun loved you now. He loved you in the world you made believe on stage, where he was Prince Topher and you were his Ella, and he loved you in reality where you would always be the fork to his spoon.

Opening night went smoothly and the roaring applause I received during my final bow sent me to the moon. The way Jaehyun looked at me across the stage with eyes filled with pride and joy blasted me to places I had never been before. I became high on this feeling of being under the burning spotlights. The feeling of wearing the most intricate costume and the way his hand slid into mine for the last bow before the curtains were drawn; it was something I wanted to treasure for the rest of my life.

But with every high came a low— my low hit me when I ran into Jaehyun’s dressing room. I caught him in an embrace with Naeun who gifted my best friend with a rose. She placed a kiss on his cheek, causing his white ears to flush a deep red that rivaled the flower he held. The girl gave him a quick shove of the shoulder before heading to me.

Her congratulatory statement went in one ear and out the other. I could barely process Naeun handing me a rose of my own before she walked out of the room, the sweet scent of her perfume lingering in her wake. She gave my best friend one more lingering look as she left and it hurt me in so many ways.

“Ready to go?” Jaehyun said, clearing his throat. “Wanna stop by the stage first? Soak in your first opening night as a lead?”

“Why the hell not?” The walk back to the stage was short. It felt different somehow.

“We did it,” I whispered.

“That we did,” he answered back.

We walked onto the stage together and I could still hear the crowds cheering for me, giving me the standing ovation I earned. It was electrifying, the way the sparks ran through my body. It ran from the top of my head to the tips of my fingers and toes.

Glancing around the empty auditorium, I pondered aloud, “But do you know what sucks about it all, Jaehyun?”

“What?”

“There’s nothing worse than the feeling of not being chosen and it still hurts that I wasn’t the first choice,” I replied truthfully, “Not as much as before. But I’m learning to get over it. The casting directors saw potential in me.”

“That’s because you do have the potential to be a star. You’re practically glowing right now.” I felt his eyes trained on me, just like they were the entire time we shared the stage.

Turning abruptly to face him, I said, “You really can’t say that to me, you know?”

“And why’s that?”

“Because it makes my heart beat against my chest and these stupid butterflies come around before I remember that you have never chosen me to be your first choice,” I glared.

“But I do choose you,” Jaehyun pushed, his voice laced with desperation, “That’s what I was trying to tell you before you stormed off on me earlier!”

“Are you really choosing me, Jaehyun? The real me? The me that has been your best friend for years? Or are you choosing the me that shares a stage with you every night? The me that could potentially be your next whirlwind romance?” No matter how desperate he sounded, he couldn’t beat the hopelessness that was dripping from my own voice.

“No, that’s not it at all!” his voice boomed, the sound echoing throughout the empty auditorium.

“Then, what is it, Jung Jaehyun? Because I am tired of being second best and I’m tired of not being chosen,” I almost cried. The anguish was just taking over my body and I couldn’t make it stop. “Yes, I know some parts are not right for me but I can’t help but be hurt. And then you say that you’re choosing me? Of course, I’m going to think of it being because I’m your newest love interest on stage.”

“If you could just listen—”

Unable to stop the words from coming out, I just kept running off at the mouth. Everything I wanted to say to Jaehyun was flying out of my lips at rapid speed; I couldn’t even stop it. “I have seen you in slow motion so many times and I want to just fast forward from those moments. To speed past them so I can move on from the idea of not being yours. I refuse to be a temporary love that you lose interest in. I just want you to pick me, to choose me, and to love me, damn it— is that too fucking much to ask for? To be chosen and loved?”

While I was taking a breath to continue with my rant, Jaehyun cut me off and the words he said rattled the stage, the ground beneath my feet, and my whole entire world.“No, it’s not and you are way fucking more than that, if you just take a moment out of your godforsaken monologue and listen to me! I choose you not because you’re my leading lady but because you’re you. You’ve always been this— this incredible, breathtaking you.”

He took one step closer and I took one step back. “And you’ve the person at my side when no one else is.”

Every single time I would retreat, Jaehyun would follow. The boy was persistent, his brown eyes trained on me. “The one who figured out you loved me first while I was too blind to see it. You’re the fork to my spoon. We’re a set, we go together. And I was too dumb to figure out that at the end of the day, I always think about you and how no one I’ve ever been with compares to you.”

When my back hit the wall, I was trapped. Trapped in between his arms and the way they propped themselves on either side of my face. Trapped in the haze of his brown eyes and how they dug deep into my soul.

“I don’t see you in slow motion— I see you in fast forward. I see you in the future, my future, walking down the aisle in white and I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. All I know is that I choose you. I will always choose you.”

I was trapped by Jung Jaehyun and there was no escape for me. Judging by the way his eyes never let me out of his sight, there was a chance my friend didn’t want to let me go either. He wanted me to stay.

“Jaehyun, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I love you. You’re my beginning, middle, and my end.”

“You love me? Like you’re in love with me?” Jaehyun heard you ask, like the possibility of being loved by him was so impossible. You were searching for any inkling of doubt but he made sure you couldn’t find any because you were the only thing he could see.

Jaehyun brought a hand near your cheek. It hovered there as he hesitated to touch it to your skin until you leaned into his touch. Your cheek felt so warm in his palm and it was so comforting to have you in his hold. “I wanted to say it earlier but I was just so scared of losing you as both a lover and a friend because what if it all goes to shit? What if we go to shit and things hit the fan? I can’t lose you.”

“But you, Jung Jaehyun, are in love with me?” you repeated as your hand cupped his own. The smile you gave him was bright enough to light up the stage.

“Yeah, I thought I made that clear. I’m sorry, did I mumble that line?” he teased playfully, trying to coerce a giggle out of you. “Should I start the scene over?”

“No, no. I’m just—” you paused and he watched you recollect your thoughts. His glittering brown eyes were trained on you as the words processed in your head. “You love me,” you laughed in disbelief.

Jaehyun took a step closer, his hand tentatively reaching out to stroke your face. He sighed in relief as you relaxed into his touch. “You’re my number one girl. I choose you.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that even after all this time, I’ve always chosen you, too.”

Once those words left your lips, he couldn’t hold himself back. Wrapping his arms around your waist, Jaehyun pulled you against his chest and smashed his lips against yours. Yes, he had kissed you on multiple occasions prior to this— onstage and off— but this time was different than the rest.

This was the first time he really kissed you after your feelings were out in the open.

The first time he kissed you and finally felt the love you harbored for so many years. Jaehyun just hoped you could sense the love he was pouring out for you, too.

He did not want to let you go but he was struggling to breathe. You were so lovely, everything about you was so incredibly lovely, and to have you in his arms was the best feeling in the universe. Everything around him turned dark and he felt the warmth of a spotlight and the flush of your body against him. The entire world was spinning beneath his feet, his heart racing, and his lips chasing you and only you.

Jaehyun did not understand why people did drugs— the high of being so ardently in love with another person, with you, gave him the high that he needed.

He felt you hit his chest in an attempt to end the kiss but Jaehyun did not want to stop. A light shove to his shoulders was enough to separate his lips from yours and what a sight you were— chest panting heavily for air, lips plumped and swollen, and the prettiest set of eyes widened in shock.

“You kissed me!” you said in between pants. “Like not a stage kiss but you actually kissed me!”

“That I did, love,” Jaehyun replied cheekily, taking another step towards you. You stepped back to lean against the wall but did nothing to stop him from coming forward. “Are you gonna do something about it?”

The look in your eyes changed after you heard his new nickname for you. It was coy. Flirty. Challenging. “Do it again, I dare you,” you whispered a bit too loudly.

Before Jaehyun closed the distance, his eyebrow perked up at the challenge. “Gladly.”

Senior year was there before we knew it.

Another year, another posting day.

Dejun, Jaehyun, and I swiftly made our way down the hall to the front of the theatre department, curious to find out which roles we were given. The spring production and the final musical of our college career was Disney’s Beauty and the Beast.

Callbacks for Belle went as smooth as ever— the chemistry between Jaehyun and I were off the charts. But why wouldn’t they be? We were together now.

Just like any other time, the crowds gathering around the cast list and bulletin board parted immediately once they caught a glimpse of Jaehyun approaching. The only difference was that this time, he was tightly clutching my hand.

When we arrived in front of the board, I shut my eyes before I could read the cast list. An anxious buzz flowed through my veins, tickling the tips of my fingers and toes. My boyfriend must’ve felt the twitching of my fingers or the sweat dripping off my palms.

I felt his body shift towards me. “Want me to take a peek first, love?” Jaehyun asked as he pressed his plump lips onto the crown of my head. He nuzzled his nose into my hair, a small but sweet action that always comforted me.

Shaking my head, I looked at him and said, “No, why don’t we look together?”

“On three?” he grinned lovingly.

“On three, you dumb spoon.”

The countdown was quick but the glance I took at the cast list was even quicker. It was so quick, I almost didn’t catch who was put into the role of Belle. Taking a double take, I let go of Jaehyun’s hand as my eyes zeroed in onto the tiny print.

Everything around me came to a stop as I read and re-read the cast list. Everyone around me was celebrating their parts but I couldn’t hear them, they were all muted in my mind. All I could hear was the sound of my own breaths and all I could see my name on the top of the page.

Belle……………..Y/N The Beast……..Jung Jaehyun

“Oh my god, I got the part,” I whispered to no one in particular. Backing away from the board, I repeated the same words a little louder and it got the attention of everyone surrounding me. Before I knew it, everyone threw a congratulations my way. The cheers were loud and obnoxious but they were for me because I did it. I finally did it.

Feeling a little overwhelmed, I backed away from the blustering crowd before bumping into my boyfriend’s firm chest. Jaehyun caught me in his hold, his arms circling around my waist. He dropped his chin on my shoulder and placed a tender kiss on my temple. “Would you look at that? We’re not a ridiculous set of tableware this time.”

“No disrespect to those parts, they were awesome, but I think I like this a lot more,” I giggled, turning in his hold.

As I circled my arms around his neck, he whispered, “Same here.”

I yanked him down into an earth-shattering kiss that sent the world spinning beneath my feet. It slowed down, speeded up, and it did everything in between. I saw flashes of yellow ball gowns, royal blue coats, and Jaehyun smiling at me gracefully across the stage.

Jaehyun staring me down from the other end of an altar.

I saw it all.

If my life was a movie, then this would be the time that the screen would fade to black and show the names. Some overly poppy song would resonate through the speakers and everyone would get up from their seats and gush over the happy ending.

But it wasn’t. My life was as real as it could be and it was even better than any romantic-comedy that would ever grace the screen.

This wasn’t the ending.

This was the perfect beginning.

AUTHOR’S NOTE. hello, my darling readers! you really didn’t have to wait that long for this release, did you? a big thank you to several people: @johtenrecs for always being my beta and for the helpful feedback, to my chaotic gc ( @smoll-tangerine, @ppangjae, @jaedore, and @jeongvision) for listening to me complain about how i was losing it while writing this fic, to @suhpressed for helping me with brainstorm, and lastly, to my lovely @notnctu bc without her and our crazy idea of hosting a hannah montana collab, i wouldn’t have gotten this idea! love y’all! hope you enjoyed this and please leave feedback! uwu

TAGLIST. @yasmini24 @jaehyunnie77 @emmybyeakitty @fluffyjaes @aevizen @dearjaehyxn @yourmagnanimousholiness @jaehyvnsvalentine @keemburley @softieus @lanadreamie @lebrookestore @notmangojuice @felixn-recs @captainsjoongs @anotherfullsun @ukiyoneo @kunrengui @babyyynatty

#nctsworldfwc #neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct scenarios #nct fic #nct imagines #nct x you #jung jaehyun #jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun x you #jaehyun fic #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst

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violettelueur · 4 years ago

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— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE SIX || AFTER RAIN

↳ featuring : fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + zenin maki + inumaki toge + panda from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of death + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 25 february

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 2.6k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : curse womb must die II

↳ next episode : assault

↳ barista’s notes : hey hey hey~ let me admit, i have no idea how to write the next episode since you don’t see anyone in them except for gojo and itadori (domain expansion episode) ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ so i might have to improvise something now...BUT there’s nothing much happening in this episode, so i hope you still enjoy it even when there is no action or anything interesting going on ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter

2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique

no cursed spells used this episode...

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing

“We’re in!” Fushiguro and Kugisaki simultaneously answered with determined looks on their faces before turning back to look at you, waiting for your answer.

Letting out a sigh of frustration, you knew that you had no way out of this since they looked so motivated for you to join, even if you disagreed with them.

“This is such a drag, but fine, I’ll join in too,” you replied with a small smile on your face leading them to nod at you before turning back to your seniors.

“But if I decided this training and exchange event is pointless, I’m quitting instantly,” Kugisaki mentioned.

“Same here,” Fushiguro commented, causing you to kick both of them on the back much to their surprise.

“So you drags make me do this event, only for you to dip when it’s pointless for you, besides I heard there are some interesting sorcerers in the Kyoto side, so prepare yourselves,” you stated before stepping down the few steps you were in front of before standing between them.

“Well, people this cocky are all more worthwhile to train,” Panda mentioned with his arms folded with a determined look on his face.

“Bonito flakes,” Inumaki said in a softer tone.

Looking up to the sky, you couldn’t help but brisk in the sunlight that was shining lightly down upon you, leading you to raise your hand over your face in order to not be blinded.

‘I wonder how I’m going to hide from this one now?’

ꕥ

“You’re late, Megumi,” Zenin obviously mentioned, as her head was turned with what seemed like to be a wooden combat pole in her hand as it casually leaned against her shoulder.

“Kelp,” Inumaki stated, as he was sitting on the ground, also having his head turned to look at the Shikigami user, ignoring what seemed to be a race between Kugisaki and Panda going on behind him.

“What were you doing?” Maki asked curiously, as Fushiguro made his way down the stone steps towards his upperclassman while zipping up his blue track top.

“What does it matter?” Fushiguro then questioned, not giving the weapon-wielder sorcerer a clear answer since he thought there was no need sharing the fact that he went to visit the mother of the man (that Itadori want to save) that had been killed by the special-grade curse back at Eushi Detention Centre to pay his condolences.

“Zenin-senpai...what kinds of people do you want to save as a jujutsu sorcerer?” Fushiguro queried, as he processed to stare down upon the ground trying to hide his emotions to compose his stoic nature, causing the mentioned sorcerer to turn her head once again to look at the other student.

“Huh? It’s not like I care if my actions save anyone,” Zenin answered in a matter-of-fact tone, causing Fushiguro to look to the side with an ‘I’m done’ expression.

“I shouldn’t have asked,” Fushiguro muttered in a lowered tone, leading Zenin to instantly become annoyed as she eyed at the erratic-haired boy with instant irritations in her eyes as well as expression.

Suddenly…

“FUSHIGURO! Quit asking interview prep questions! Switch with me! I’m sick of these school uniforms! Let me go buy some cute tracksuits!” Kugisaki shouted in a fit of rage, as she was strangely spun around in a dizzy circle like she was at a funfair circus as a clueless gymnast before being thrown in the air by Panda.

“What are those two doing?” Fushiguro confusingly asked as he watched the amusing sight process while his classmate landed on the floor.

“Falling practice!” Panda announced as he pointed his finger in the air like what he was doing was obviously.

“Mustard leaf,” Inumaki stated as if to confirm Panda’s answer, as he too looked at the ridiculous scene.

“You’re both weak in close quarters, after all,” Panda stated, as he informed his younger classmen on why what he was doing, made sense to the training that he had planned.

“By the way, where is Y/N? She was with you when you both left to do whatever you were doing,” Zenin questioned, as she looked around the area behind her to see if you were there since she did miss your presence the last time you both met.

“She said she needed to go somewhere important, but will be back as quick as possible,” Fushiguro recalled, as he remembers after you both met with Tadashi’s mother, you informed him that you had to go somewhere for the time being, but didn’t tell him where you were exactly heading off to.

“That’s fine, I guess,” Maki replied back as she processed to swing around the wooden pole she had in her hand with such grace and accuracy before continuing with, “if what that idiot Gojo said to us about her is true, she could beat all of us in an instant, she’ll probably be perfect in the individual’s battle,”.

“Okay, land a blow on us,” Zenin stated, with her palm out, as if inviting Fushiguro to attack her.

ꕥ

“I’m here, mother”

As of right now, you were holding a small bouquet of a beautiful arrangement of blue hydrangeas paired with white roses with some incense sticks in one hand, while the other was holding a wooden tub filled with water with a wooden ladle as well as a plastic white bag with items you quickly brought from the corner store causing you to quickly place your items down before leaving the delicate bouquet in a safe area.

Digging through the white plastic bag, you pulled out a cloth before removing the stubborn tags that refused to be taken off as you processed to soak the material before beginning to wipe down the marble gravestone that towered you as your crouched down before cleaning the vase that you had also brought from the corner store - yet you were surprised at the fact there were no weeds to be pulled.

After you had quickly clean the gravestone, you picked up the incense sticks in their rightful holder before lighting them up with a match (that you also brought from the store) before carefully removing the paper that held the flowers to gently place the floral plants in the same neat arrangement in the now cleaned vase.

Making sure the china vase was placed in the middle, you grabbed the wooden ladle that was in the wooden bucket, making sure it had enough water before standing back up on your feet to pour the clear liquid over the grave as you then placed the ladle back into the bucket.

Placing your hands together in prayer, before internally thanking your mother for protecting you as well as expressing your gratitude for her.

“They’re your favourite flowers right?” you gently asked, as you stared down at the flowers that were beautifully sitting in the vase. “Those were really expensive you know, I wonder how you were able to buy them so often without any regrets,” you muttered with a small smile before crouching back down as if you were going to look eye to eye with the gravestone like your mother was going to be sitting in front of you.

“I've been found…but...I wasn’t as bad as I suspected, the people at Jujutsu Tech are such drags but they’re really nice people,” you expressed, as you continued with, “I’m sorry I took so long to visit, you know Sendai to Tyoko is a really long journey, technically that’s both our faults since we agreed that we wanted to rest in Tokyo if we did pass,”.

Looking at the marble stone in front of you, you could see the thin smoke of incense that was slowly swirling into the air, as if it was trying to hypnotise you with its graceful movements. However, even though you knew you had to get back to Jujutsu Tech as quick as you could, you couldn’t help but utter a few more words to your late mother.

“I miss you mum”

ꕥ

“Ah- am I late?”

At this current moment in time, it seemed like training had taken a pause since everyone was seated somewhere close to the stone stairs that lead the way down to the track field.

“Where were you? I needed you to train Megumi more,” Zenin asked, as you carefully made your way down the stairs with another white plastic bag in hand before making your way to your upperclassmen with one hand holding each handle, leaving an opening that was large enough to let her have a view on the contents inside.

“Sorry, I was visiting someone, but I got you guys some refreshments since I know you all were going to be tired by the time I came. Oh! The orange juice is mine by the way,” you mentioned, as you swiftly grabbed the orange carton from the bag as if someone was going to steal it if you didn’t.

Smiling at you, Zenin leaned away from the tree bark to see what she could choose from the bag, before reaching in, to grab that bottle of water as her choice before you processed to hold the bag around for everyone to get a pick on what beverage they wanted before you took a seat on the steps between Fushiguro and Inuamki.

“Where’s Kugisaki?” you asked in curiosity, as you looked around the fielded area only to not find your classmate leading Fushiguro to explain to you that she went out to buy a tracksuit since she didn’t have one, causing you to realise that you probably needed to change later but for now, you didn’t find being in your school uniform since the slit on the side of your long skirt, made it easier to move as well as deal with the warm environment that was coming in for the season at the moment.

“Gojo, your katana is a cursed weapon right?” Fushiguro asked, causing you to look at him weirdly after stabbing the straw into the carton before giving him a nod as a way to reply to his question.

“I agreed with the others that supplementing my close combat with weapons is the best choice right now, but with my cursed technique, I want to be able to free both hands at any time, with katanas, you lose time sheathing them,” Fushiguro explained, as he placed the pads of his fingers together while looking down at them.

“How do you carry your weapon when your cursed technique is used by your hands as well, also how did you manage to hide the chain attached at the end?” Fushiguro asked as he looked up at you, only to be surprised when he saw you looking at him with an annoyed expression.

‘That’s one way to somewhat expose me, I guess’

“I can utilise my technique by using only one hand, although there are times when I have to use both hands like you. However, I rarely unsheathe my katana, so it usually hangs on my back,” you described, causing Fushiguro’s to concentrate on you, trying to understand your technique since it seemed more complicated then you made it look at your battle with Sukuna.

“About the chain, the red charm cancels the chain being constructed since it will use my cursed energy, not a lot for me, but it’s a drag since I need the extra bit. When the charm is off, I use my curse energy to conceal before clicking my fingers to reveal it, if I want to, and when I use two hands, I can use the chain to pull it back,” you explained, causing the second-years to be surprised at the amount of cursed energy you have to use to employ such a simple weapon - maybe it wasn’t as simple as they intentionally thought.

“How much cursed energy do you possess, Y/N?” Panda asked as he placed his paw on his chin in a thinking posture, only for Fushiguro to answer the question.

“She has a lot more than she is showing right now, I don’t know how but she can hide it,” Fushiguro stated, causing you to smack the back of his head before placing the neglected straw back to your lips since you were desperately craving the citrus content that was in the carton.

“Zenin-senpai, you often carry more than two around with you, right? How do you do that?” Fushiguro queried as he rubbed the back of his head to soothe the pain you had given him.

“I made Panda carry them,” Zenin answered, as she pointed at the classmate leading to the animal sorcerer to proudly show off his muscles as if to inform you and Fushiguro on how strong he was.

“I shouldn’t have asked, part two,” Fushiguro muttered under his breath, causing you to giggle internally at the statement as you wondered what he must have asked the first time since ‘part two’ was in the sentence.

“Some sorcerers keep cursed spirits that can store and retrieve objects,” Panda presented a well-thought idea, even though there was a disadvantage to that.

“He can’t do that. It’s a rare thing and it takes time to tame them, as well. But if you find any, let me know,” Zenin countered, before Panda replied for the payment he wanted if he ever finds a curse for her, causing you to zone out from the conversation as you processed to stare down at the step before you, that was slightly darkened by the shade of your shadow.

In curiosity, you took a side glance at your classmate only to notice that he was in deep thought, leaving you to figure something out for him while he thought of his own solution.

‘His shikigami uses shadows for a medium, then if that is the case…’

Using your hand that was occupied with your orange juice, you leaned forwards slightly, letting the tips of your fingers touch the stone step below you while making them land in the middle of your shadow.

“I think you can do that,” you stated in a quiet tone, causing Fushiguro to look in your direction only to see you staying still in the position that you had set yourself in before slowly pulling yourself back up to sit in a normal position, leading Fushiguro to go back to what he was in deep thought about.

‘I don’t get it, though. Why...did you run back then? What a waste of talent, but the girl back at that place, she knows how to use her technique extremely well’

“You possess such intellect, such skill, such power and such talent and yet you refuse to go against me with your full potential, are you mocking me?”

‘I have the potential to beat special grades? Is that what he meant by that?’ Fushiguro thought, before turning to look at you to discover you were looking into the distance while continuously sipping on your orange juice like the addict you were.

‘What was she trying to tell me? It seemed like L/N knows something...intellect?’

Slowly but curiously, Fushiguro began to reciprocate your previous movements by letting his hand touch the step between his legs before waiting for a second to see what you were trying to inform him, only for his hand to steadily go deeper into his shadow leading him to widen his eyes at this discovery.

“Tuna, tuna,” Inumaki mentioned, as he pointed at Fushiguro since he noticed what he was doing, leading Zenin and Panda to look at their classmate wanting to know what he was trying to bring their attention to.

“Huh? What?” Zenin asked in confusion, before turning her head in the shikigami user’s direction to realise what he was doing.

“Senpai, I think I can do it,” Fushiguro stated with a rare smile, before looking in your direction once again to see you were still staring at the field in front of you.

‘Such intellect…’

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chasingpj · 4 years ago

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𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐝-𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝

"Ehm, is this like a seven-minutes-in-heaven thing?”

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 5,236

warnings: none? pls let me know if i missed anything

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story click here

a/n: hi hi! i hope you guys like this chapter. i fell in a little bit of a rut about my writing so I've been holding off on posting but I think I'm pretty satisfied with how this came out. i'm so fried after editing this so if i happened to miss any typos, sorry, i tried haha.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

The heat and dimness from the cabin surround you like a warm hug making it challenging to stay awake. Your eyelids droop against your wishes to study, fatigue messing with your vision as it blurs the letters on the page you were trying to read. As you find yourself mindlessly reading words, you decide to give in, and soon you’re settled in an in-between state of consciousness.

Suddenly, you’re standing at the entryway of the kitchen in your home, the first thing you notice is the scent of your favorite meal as it fills your nostrils, and you smile sleepily as your father looks at you. He’s hovering over the stove, right hand stirring something in a saucepan, and he smiles widely at you.

“Stella, you’re home!” He announces as he pushes his round glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Go, sit! Dinner is almost ready.”

You smile at the nickname your father has called you since you were a child. He said that the first time you cried in his arms, your little body illuminated like a supernova, and since then, he’s called you Stella, the Latin word for star. You make your way past the kitchen island on your left, noticing the history channel playing on the small TV in the corner of the counter like always. A sense of nostalgia hits you in your core, and you sigh, feeling safe. As much as you loved the camp, homesickness was unavoidable.

You settle yourself at the black round table in the back of the kitchen, chin resting on your palm as you look outside of the window beside you. The small garden of herbs and flowers you have in the backyard is as you remember. Every summer, your father cultivates herbs and flowers in dedication to your mother. He uses most of the herbs for spells, and at the end of the summer, he would make a bouquet out of the brightest flowers in the garden and rest them on your mother’s alter.

The reminder of your mother made your stomach feel heavy, and you quickly push the thoughts of her away. You weren’t in the mood to deal with them, especially not in a dream like this. The thumping of Atticus’s footsteps coming down the stairs catches your attention, and soon your brother appears in the doorway with his usual wide smile.

“Hey! I thought you were making my favorite tonight.” His shoulders slump, and he playfully narrows his eyes at you. You shrug,

“What can I say? Must suck not being the favorite,” you joke, and Atticus gasps dramatically. The sound of your father’s laughter fills the room as he tilts his head back.

“I love you guys equally! That’s not nice to say,” he says as he points the spatula at you as he squints. You snort as Atticus joins you at the table,

“Yeah, Y/n, that’s not nice,” he repeats, poking his tongue out at you, and you return the action. You and your brother have a short competition of who can stick out their tongue harder as your father puts the food on the table. At the sight of your favorite meal, you let Atticus win, turning to put a portion on your plate.

Amidst your dinner conversation with your father and your brother, the deep growl rumbling in Ambrose’s chest makes its way into your dream. A soft hum leaves your lips, your neck relaxing against your will, and your head jolts forward as your cheek slips off your palm. You blink a few times, groaning since you’ve lost your dream.

“Ambrose, shush.” Your chin returns onto your hand, and you submit to your fatigue once again. The image of a ravenous bunny, cartoonishly stomping its way through a candy cane forest, filled your mind, projected on your eyelids like a movie in a theater. It’s too ridiculous to give much thought, and you were too busy relishing in the soothing feeling of sleep.

All of a sudden, Ambrose bursts into a series of short high pitched barks, jolting you awake. Your eyelids fly open, and you turn in your chair. Ambrose stands up tall, his fur contouring to his muscles as they flex. His ears are perched up; his focus fixed on the back wall. Whatever he was looking at, he didn’t dare to approach.

"What? What is it?"

The bunk beds obstructed your view, but you are sure you are alone. Everyone was out and about doing their normal camp activities; if anyone had entered the cabin, you would have heard them.

You groan in your hands as they rub your face to shake off the remaining fatigue, growing annoyed at Ambrose’s persistent barking that nips harshly at your eardrums.

“Ambros-”

A bitter breeze fills the room, and your breath gets caught in your throat at the feeling. Your arms wrap around your frame, failing to prevent goosebumps from forming on your arms. It was impossible. Today’s weather report called for a hot, humid day like it’s been all summer. As the hair at the back of your neck stands straight, and you have an idea of what’s happening, but you hoped you were wrong.

Ambrose abruptly ends his barking with a distressing whine. His ears sag low on the sides of his head as he retreats, his large body shrinking in fear. With cautious steps, you approach him in the middle of the cabin. The thumping of your pulse is loud in your ears, and for the first time in a while, a familiar pang strikes you in your gut. You’re being watched.

Despite his fear, Ambrose guards you finding the courage to stand tall and confident after cowering a few seconds ago. You let out a shaky breath, and warily, you finally catch sight of what has his attention.

A tall, dark figure stands still at the end of the room. The light that bleeds through the thin curtains behind it wasn’t enough to expose its face but instead illuminates the swirling black vapor that made up this human form.

From your years of experience, you learned how to deal with these kinds of things. Ghosts gravitated towards you like a moth to a lit flame. Most of the time, the spirits are harmless, looking for some company, and were eager to ask for favors you often couldn’t fulfill. Other times, they were more malevolent entities, existing to feed off your fears, and had the reputation of being stubborn guests.

From the way, the room turned impossibly cold in the middle of a sweltering summer afternoon and the heaviness in your gut, the shadow in front of you was definitely the latter.

"Who are you? How did you get here?" Your voice booms through the silence. "Why are you here-"

The cabin door slams open, the shadow dispersing the moment the sunlight bleeds through the room. You jump, gasping as your whole body turns around. The two figures at the doorway are dark, the sudden beams of light blinding you for a moment before you manage to recognize Connor and Travis.

“Why is it so damn dark in here? And cold? Jeez, Y/n, open the curtains at least,” Travis nags with a smirk on his lips.

“I don’t need light to see.” You groan, turning your face away, the sun shining right at you as Travis begins ripping open the curtains. “And I hate when the sun gets in my eyes,” you complain, stepping aside where sunlight doesn’t reach. Though you saw the shadow disperse, you glance at the back of the room, double-checking that what you saw was gone.

"You know... “

Your focus returns to the two boys standing side by side a few feet away from you. Both of them sporting the mischievous smirk that all the Hermes kids had when they’re about to stir up trouble. Connor only uttered two words, but it was clear they were up to something, and you were about to be involved.

"You've been locked up in here, in the dark, alone, for a while now. It's been like a week and a half since the incident, and we know you’re still a little down,” he trails off, swaying on his feet.

"... yeah?"

"And we think we have the perfect way to cheer you up!" Connor gives you a toothy grin, and as confident as he looked, you don’t quite believe him.

"And that is?"

"I think it's time we execute our bunny prank on the Ares cabin!"

You press your lips together in a thin line; head cocked to the side. "That's supposed to cheer me up?"

"Yeah!"

"How is putting my life in danger going to cheer me up?" Your gaze switches between the two as they exchange looks with each other.

“Um…” Connor says, lost for words.

"It'll be fun. We promise!" Travis insists, waving your comment off. He moves to sit in your chair, leaning back as he props his legs on your desk. "So, have you thought about how we're going to do this?"

You sigh softly, not bothering to protest. If you denied participating, Connor would be quick to remind you what’s at stake.

"I have," you admit. After your last interaction with Clarisse, the prank did come to mind.

The Stoll brother’s faces grew almost as bright as the sun outside. Connor takes a seat on the bed closest to you, leaned in with his elbows on his knees, "Tell us the details then,” he urges.

"Okay, so I found a shape-shifting potion in my spellbook. It's pretty simple. I have all the ingredients except for one. The only thing I need is the hair of a rabbit. Get that for me, and I'll make it." Connor and Travis nod eagerly, and you can already see the gears turning in their heads as they formulate a plan to catch a bunny.

"If you can get it to me in a few hours, we can sneak into their cabin while they're practicing in the arena. Then I can pour a few drops of the potion into their water cooler. The potion is potent; you only need a few drops for it to work."

"Sounds like a solid plan. They'll be thirsty after practicing, and boom, they’re all cute little bunnies,” Travis says, legs unmounting from your desk, and he hops onto his feet.

"So hurry and get me rabbit hair!”

A small, almost manic laugh comes from Connor’s lips, "This is gonna be epic!"

"Should we ask the nymphs for help?" Travis ponders out loud as he makes his way out of the dorm.

"Wait! We should get scissors! Do you have scissors?” Connor asks you, and you giggle. You grab a pair of scissors from your desk drawer, and Connor quickly swipes them from your hands the moment you present them to him.

"Thanks, Y/n!” Swiftly, he turns on his heels, trailing behind Travis.

"Be careful, please! Don't hurt the bunny!"

"We won't! The worse we'll do is give it a bald spot; they’ll be fine!" Travis shouts.

After the slamming of the front door and the ragged footsteps of Connor and Travis’s departure, your smile falters as the silence regresses. The figure you had seen comes to mind, and you frown, Ambrose whining as he sits close to your legs.

"That was weird, wasn't it?" You lean down, affectionately scratching the backs of his ears as Ambrose licks your wrists. The sight of his drooping eyes told you enough to know that this wasn’t the last time you’ll be seeing whatever that was.

"C'mon, let's not worry about that now. We have to make that potion." An uneasy grumble comes from Ambrose's chest as he nuzzles his snout in your hand.

"I know, I know," you whisper before standing up.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

"Shh, they’re coming,” Travis announces in a whisper, silencing you and Connor’s conversation. The distanced chattering and footsteps of the Ares campers become louder as Clarisse pushes open the front door. The three of you duck lower in your place as they scatter to their beds, beginning to take off their armor. Travis slowly rises from his crouching position, peaking enough to see the inside. He gives you and Connor a nod, a silent okay to peek yourselves. Cautiously, you come up, watching the group now crowding around the water dispenser, playfully telling each other to hurry up.

Connor lightly pats your shoulder with excitement, and you scrunch your face, anticipation swirling in your stomach as one by one, they begin taking sips from their water bottles. Your jaw drops as Mark forms a snout, his hands flying up to his face.

"W-what?" He sputters, moving closer to his reflection in the mirror. "What is-"

The rest of his words became soft squeals, his whole body shrinking and shifting into a stark white bunny in the blink of an eye.

“Um? Did that just-?”

“How did-”

“You have bunny ears!” Ellis shouts, pointing at Clarisse while she formed a pair of her own. Clarisse didn’t have time to comment as Ellis joins her half-brother. One by one, they began shrinking, and small shrieks fill the room.

"What are you guys doing?" The three of you practically jump out of your skin, heads snapping in the direction of the voice.

Percy’s eyes are wide and curious, furrowing his eyebrows at the chaos breaking out in the Ares cabin. You open your mouth to say something but stop yourself, not wanting to blow your cover.

“It must have been the water!”

“When I see the Stoll Brother’s I’m going to-” Squeal.

Travis’s face was a tint of pink from holding in his laughter. He doesn’t respond, simply waving at Percy to come and see for himself. You and Percy exchange a smile before turning back to the window.

His chance at seeing the pool of white bunnies went down the drain; the four of you met with an angry Clarisse instead. To your dismay, she didn't completely transform. Her normally brown eyes are now crimson and her mouth transformed into a whiskered snout. White bunny ears peek through her brown hair, making it look like she was wearing one of those bunny ear headbands they sell at the pharmacy around Easter time. You’d be laughing as much as the Stoll Brothers if Clarisse’s stare wasn’t fixed on you and only you. You give her a nervous smile as you step away carefully, and the moment Clarisse moves to jump out the window, the four of you bolted.

“She’s gonna kill us!” You exclaim; Travis and Connor burst into laughter, hands over their stomach as they run beside you.

“Split up! She can’t kill all of us!” Travis suggests, already making a beeline into the forest with Connor.

“Yeah, cause she’s gonna go after me!”

“We’ll weave you a nice shroud!”

“WOW, THANKS!”

The cackles of the two made you roll your eyes, and you make a mental note never to help them with a prank ever again. You grunt as Percy grabs onto your wrist, and you stumble for a second until you catch up to his pace.

“You can’t run from me forever!” Clarisse shouts, running close behind. She was right, you couldn’t avoid her forever, but you just needed her to calm down. "When I catch you, I'm tying your necks like shoelaces!"

You cringe at the threat as you and Percy burst through the swinging doors of the Arts and Craft center, weaving your way through the campers.

“Sorry!” You shout over their groans as you’re pulled into one of the hallways. Seeing the closets along the walls of the hallway gave you an idea. You bite your lip, focusing on the door leading to the outside. Reaching your hand out, you flick your fingers forward, causing the door to burst open fast enough for it to lock in place.

The moment you approach the last door in the hallway, you grab the knob. A grunt leaves Percy’s lips as you drag him in the closet with you. He loses his footing from the change of direction, spinning hastily toward you, and the both of you stagger into the closet. You yelp, the weight of Percy’s body sending your back right against the wall, and the knob comes out of grip right as it slams closed.

Percy grunts, his hands push against the wall beside your frame, promptly lifting himself away from you.“Sor-”

“Shh.” Your index finger rests your lips as you look at the door. Your shoulders tense up, afraid that Clarisse had heard the slam. Soon, Clarrise’s pounding footsteps rise like a crescendo and, to your relief, gradually fades as she runs right out of the building. A shaky sigh leaves your lips before glancing at Percy, who’s directly in front of you. You smile sheepishly, foot moving to step back only to be met with the wall.

Percy’s heart beats loud in his chest, and he was hoping that you couldn’t hear it. He tried to step back as well, but Percy’s foot was met with the shelves behind him to his dismay. He scans your face in the dim lighting for a few seconds. Suddenly, he’s reminded of how he stumbled on top of you, making him too embarrassed to look at you any longer. His focus falters to the shelves beside him, forcing himself to find interest in the tubs of paint stacked on them.

“It’s your fault,” you accuse after some silence. Shock flashes across Percy’s face,

“Huh?”

“Because you were so nosey, you blew our cover.” You reach over, and you poke his shoulder. Percy’s peers down at where you poked him as if he was offended.

“At least I ran with you. Travis and Connor left you for dead!”

“Great friends, they are, huh?” You ask, your voice laced with playful sarcasm.

Percy laughs, "I think you've taken the trophy of being the most hated by Clarisse," he jokes.

"I don't think I can one-up you. You literally fought her dad and won," you point out. "I think if we split up, she'd definitely come after me. Imagine the last thing you see when you die is Clarisse looking like… that. "

Percy laughs and you laugh, too, feeling comfortable with making light of the situation now that you were out of harm's way.

"How did that even happen!?”

"I don't know!” You sigh, bummed that Clarisse had managed to be the only person who stayed human. “Maybe she didn’t drink enough water?”

“Wow, the only person you needed to transform into a bunny just didn’t,” Percy says as he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the shelves.

“Pretty much.”

“You have amazing luck, Y/n,” he says sarcastically.

“Whatever,” you mumble, eye faltering to the shelves beside you. Percy’s laughter fills the small space, making it hard to prevent the smile from creeping on your lips. The sound of footsteps interrupts you as you open your mouth to say something else and it brings Percy’s laughter to an end. Your shoulders are practically up to your ears as you look into Percy’s wide eyes before he mouths, “we’re dead.” If it is Clarisse, you guys are cornered, and you prepare to shadow travel even if it meant you might pass out, especially if you bring him with you.

You furrow your eyebrows as you hear two familiar voices, and soon the door opens, revealing you both to Beckendorf and Silena. There is a moment of silence, Silena blinking at the both of you, her head tilted slightly to the side as she observes the tension. Beckendorf’s right eyebrow raises, glancing between you and Percy’s face.

"Ehm, is this like a seven-minutes-in-heaven thing?" Your face gets hot, and you exchange a look with Percy, noticing the tips of his ears are bright red.

"No, we were hiding from Clarisse,” he stutters out, gaze snapping to the two, and you nod quickly,

"Because I turned her into a bunny and-"

"She didn't transform all the way-"

"It's okay. Charles and I would sneak around at first, too," Silena interrupts, her lips curled up in a satisfied smile.

"We were just talking!" You and Percy say in unison. The more defensive you got, the more suspicious you both came off. From the way Beckendorf and Silena smiled at each other, you knew they weren’t buying it.

Beckendorf shrugs, and he steps forward, reaching between the two of you to grab the box of beads from the shelf. He hums, “It’s clear we interrupted something. I just needed this. You guys can carry on,” he teases, amused at how embarrassed the both of you are.

“But- we-” you stutter, unable to finish your sentence, Beckendorf shutting the door, and Silena makes a sound between a giggle and a squeal as they walk away.

Percy clears his throat, interrupting the short silence that fell between the two of you, “Um, should we…?” His voice falters, not finishing his sentence, but you already knew what he was going to ask.

“Yeah,” you agree awkwardly, opening the closet. “Let’s go,” you mumble, stepping out with Percy close behind you.

"Where should we go now?" Percy asks, opening the door to the outside for you, and you smile, finding it sweet. You thank him shortly, and you shrug,

"I'm not sure, but I don't think Clarisse has calmed down yet…" you trail off, catching sight of a fuming Clarisse standing beside Chiron a few meters away. “Dammit.”

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

You shift on your feet, standing in Chiron’s office alongside Travis, Connor, and Percy. Clarisse’s crimson eyes are still narrowed at you as Chiron sighs, backing into his wheelchair before his backside disappears, allowing him to sit fully into it.

"I understand you guys are just having fun. However, I believe the Ares Cabin deserves a little break from the pranks, don't you think?" He asks as he looks at Connor and Travis.

You fiddle with your fingers, your shoulders slumped along with Connor and Travis’s shoulders. Travis nods, and he hums as if he considers it for a moment.

“We could prank the Apollo Cabin instead?" Connor suggests, and Chiron opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. You press your lips together in an attempt to refrain from smiling, discovering that Percy was doing the same. You became more amused at his face turning a little pink as he holds in his laughter, and you quickly look at your hands to recollect yourself.

“I’d prefer you tone down the pranking altogether,” Chiron clarifies. Connor frowns, and he nods slowly,

“Oh. Yeah, we could do that, I guess,” he mumbles, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Chiron nods, shifting his gaze to you,

“Y/n, what did you used to transform them into rabbits?” You hum softly,

“It’s a shape-shifting potion from my spellbook,” you explain.

“How long will it take for them to transform back?” You look up for a second, trying to remember your notes. While recalling the day you went through Ernest’s potions book to jot the recipe in your Book of Shadows, you realize how many forms of the potion there were depending on the transformation length. Ernest had mentioned in passing something about reading his notes carefully. It wasn’t until now did you realize that the potion you had made was not the short-term one.

“About … 24 hours,” you admit, and Connor snorts beside you.

“What!?” Clarisse snaps, her fists clenching on her side. “You mean, they’re going to be like that until tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yes, that’s what 24 hours means,” you snap back; her presence was enough to annoy you. Clarisse’s glare burns into your face, and she moves to take a step, about to charge at you.

“Clarisse, please! They will be punished accordingly,” Chiron reassures her, making her halt in her place, and she groans, her arms crossing over her chest as she waits for Chiron’s verdict.

"Well, I was going to assign you four to clean the Pegasus stables, but now that it has come to my attention that the potion lasts 24 hours, your punishment is to feed and clean up after them while they’re under the spell."

“Ew, I’d rather clean the stables,” Connor mutters, and you furrow your eyebrows,

“But wouldn’t the pegasus stables be more work?” You ask, hoping to get him to change your punishment. The last thing you wanted to do was be surrounded by a bunch of angry bunnies. Sure they were small, but you did not doubt in your mind that you were going to be attacked by them.

“They are a big group; I think it is fair that Clarisse gets assistance in taking care of them,” He says calmly, his fingers intertwined as they rest on the desk in front of him. “Feed them before you go off to dinner, accommodate their sleeping arrangements and clean up after them before morning check-ins,” he decides. You sigh softly. At this point, as long as Clarisse wasn’t on the hunt to kill you, you were okay with it.

As Chiron dismisses you, you catch the satisfied smile Clarisse was sporting, and you felt your anger swirling in your chest. You grunt as you turn on your heels, Travis and Connor behind you as Percy walks by your side. You sigh, lazily trotting off the steps of the big house,

“This...”

“Sucks,” Percy finishes your sentence, and you nod, the both of you frowning.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

“Stop biting me!” You complain, nudging off the crowd of bunnies from your arm. Percy laughs, seated on the floor beside you as he helps you make a nest of blankets big enough for the bunnies.

“They hate you,” he comments, amused. His smirk falls flat, and he hisses as one of them gets a good bite on his finger. “Ow!” He squints at the bunny before picking it up. It was your turn to laugh, and you watch curiously as he walks to one of the dressers and plopping it on top. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re in time-out,” he grumbles.

“Wait, that’s actually really smart!” You look down at the bunnies around you. “They can’t jump from that high!” As you reach for the closest bunny, they run out of your reach, squealing, and soon they were huddled under a bed.

Percy smiles as they disperse, “well, now they’ll leave us alone,” he says as he sits beside you to continue piling the extra blankets you found. “You should have let me play that rock-paper-scissors game with them,” Percy mentions.

The two of you were stuck making a makeshift bed for the Ares campers since Travis and Connor had to round up their cabin for curfew. Well, one of them could have done it, but they insisted that it was a two-person job. You said it was unfair if they skipped out and they offered to settle who will go with an intense rock-paper-scissors game; best of three. You had accepted the challenge and lost miserably.

"I should have known there was no point in trying with their luck."

"Yeah, you walked right into that."

You side-eye him, "anyways, you would have lost.”

“How are you so sure?”

"Because, you just would have," you say shortly, and you smile as he turns to you.

“Well, considering how lucky you've been all day," he says sarcastically, and you squint at him. "I would have had a better chance,” he gloats.

“You’ve been real sassy today,” you mumble, and he laughs. “It’s fine. There’s not that much to do anyway.” Carefully, you roll the sides of the blankets into a nest shape after Percy finishes piling them. You rise on your feet, “It’d sleep there if I were a bunny. What do you think?”

“I would too. It seems comfortable,” Percy smiles as he stands up.

"Are you losers done?" Clarisse walks into the cabin with bowls of water for her siblings, and you roll your eyes as she puts them on the ground.

"Yeah, is it to their liking?" You ask with fake politeness, straining a smile. Clarisse observes the bundle of blankets as her siblings get in to try it out. She furrows her eyebrows, listening attentively to the various squeals. She had inherited most of the bunny traits, and though she didn’t transform completely, she could understand what they were saying.

“Eh, it’s good enough,” she concludes after hearing all the complaints of her siblings. “I’m sick of seeing your faces; get out.” She didn’t have to tell you twice, and you don’t waste any time as you turn on your heels. You were sick of seeing her face too.

Walking down the steps of the Ares Cabin, Percy follows beside you. A slight hum comes from his lips, and you look over,

“I was wondering when you’d come back to sword fighting,” he mentions, and you nod, recalling that you had agreed to attend classes after sparing with him a couple of weeks ago. “Your brother has been coming more often; he’s gotten a lot better.”

“That’s why my body has been aching so much,” you mutter more to yourself. For the past week, you thought you were staining your body in your sleep.

“Huh?”

“Long story,” you wave your hand, and you think about his question.

If you were completely honest, you weren’t as depressed about what had happened anymore. After you talked with Percy, you had finally come to terms with many of the thoughts that were tormenting you. However, you still stayed locked up in the Hermes Cabin because in the past week or so, you’ve gotten so much studying done. You wanted to stay in and read, and you were planning on milking your excused absences for as long as you could. But now, you considered that maybe you should return to your normal activities. Connor and Travis were becoming more worried, so were Atticus and Lou Ellen.

“I could join tomorrow,” you say hesitantly, your heart fluttering as Percy’s face brightens up. “Are you that excited to beat me up?” You joke, and Percy laughs, shaking his head.

“No! It’s just… it’s weird not seeing you around.” He admits shyly as he looks away. The cool summer breeze blows on your warm cheeks, and you swallow,

“I’ll go tomorrow,” you confirm, sounding more sure of yourself this time. Once you approach the steps of the Hermes cabin, you turn to him. “Good night, Perce.”

The sides of Percy’s eyes crinkle as he nods, “Good night,” he says as he slowly backs away. “And try to wake up on time, yeah? I’m not feeding the Ares cabin alone tomorrow,” he teases. You did have a habit of being the last person to arrive at breakfast. He must have noticed.

“Yeah, yeah. Worry about yourself, waterboy.” You smile, hearing him scoff. Opening the door to the Hermes cabin, you look back at him one more time. You take in the wide grin on his face, and he nods,

“Got it. I’ll remember that when you’re being chased by Clarisse again.” Your mouth drops open, eyes glinting at his banter.

“You better go before the harpies eat you!” You shoo him away as he laughs, then with a short salute of his two fingers, he walks off to his cabin.

masterlist taglist: @xxyrr @nct127bee @mochabreezeee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @-thatgirloverthere- @sanovr @passionswift @nanskidoodle @Slytherclaw-kitten @zhethugisa

#my writing #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson and the olympians fanfiction #pjo fanfic #pjo x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson fluff

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years ago

Text

The Celestial Realm Was Perfect

(Part of the half-demon series, this fic takes place in the early part of season 2)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 2.5 Part 3 Part 4

This one is REALLY angsty, so be prepared, it’s got a... somewhat happy ending? I can’t exactly write something depressing and not make everyone feel better at the end... I’ve been wanting to write something like this for a while though, so I hope you all enjoy!

((Content warning: mentions of wings being torn off, nothing too visceral))

L!MC: Lucifer’s Kid!MC | M!MC: Mammon’s kid!MC | A!MC: Asmo’s Kid!MC

The Celestial Realm was perfect.

L!MC finally understood exactly why Luke sang its praises so often. The little angel had made it his personal mission to paint the perfect picture of the place to L!MC to convince them that it was just so much better than the Devildom. It seemed that Luke didn’t need to stretch the truth that much, the Celestial Realm was aesthetically perfect.

It was just a visit, mind you. Word had gotten up to the Celestial Realm about the three half demons and just about every high ranking angel was practically falling over themselves to invite the rulers of hell and the children up for a friendly visit. Diavolo of course, accepted immediately.

One would think L!MC was worried about how the angels would react to them, a half human half demon child, but that would be ridiculous. L!MC didn’t worry about dumb trivial things like that, the fact that they stuck close to their father and attempted to hold their head up high like he did was just a coincidence.

Their worries were completely unfounded. The angels made their awkward greetings to Lucifer, who responded coldly and professionally, but all the awkwardness faded once they laid their eyes on L!MC. They doted and cooed at them, asking about school and friends they had made.

It reminded L!MC about all the human family gatherings they had been brought to, the entire experience was complete with cheek pinches and hugs from people they didn’t recognize. It didn’t matter, L!MC basked in the attention.

“You look just like him, but just look at that smile!” Uriel chirped. “Lucifer never gave us a smile that bright.”

“Not even as a little kid?” L!MC asked, Uriel shook his head.

“Nope!” Uriel grinned cheekily. “Legend has it he came into existence scowling about something or other!”

Lucifer sighed and grumbled nearby, turning away from the two angels he and Diavolo were talking to. “Uriel, do you plan on being like Simeon and spending all your time gushing about me as an angel?”

Uriel seemed to shrink back slightly. “N-no... why would I do that?”

L!MC had to withhold a giggle, it seemed Lucifer had the same affect on angels as he did on the lesser demons.

The angels had been nothing but sweet, they doted on A!MC and M!MC in a similar manner. L!MC couldn’t hide their smile as they continued their walk through the Celestial Realm. It seemed Luke was right about another thing, the Celestial Realm’s inhabitants were the perfect hosts.

They imagined how their father must have looked back then, they knew only the bare minimum from the ramblings of Luke and the time Diavolo spent gushing about how gorgeous Lucifer was. Six pure white wings, a halo, celestial armour that shone in the light, making him as bright as a star...

It must have been a truly gorgeous sight to behold.

L!MC imagined how they may have looked... white wings, a halo, pretty flowy clothes, a life in the Celestial Realm. They paused the daydream and laughed softly, it was so bright in the Celestial Realm they would need to be constantly be wearing sunglasses!

Asmo was pulling A!MC around and pointing out all the things he deemed, A!MC looked around with starry eyed wonder.

“Oh! I remember this place! Beel and Belphie ended up falling down those stairs more times than I can count. It’s a miracle they didn’t get hurt!” Asmo then smiled brightly and examined his reflection in the shining marble staircase. “A!MC, don’t we look great? We should make all the staircases in the Devildom shining marble!”

A!MC half nodded as they stared up at the sparkling buildings. “Yeah... marble...”

L!MC tore their gaze away from the pair to see M!MC on Beel’s shoulders, pointing and laughing at the... somewhat awkward shape of one of the spires. “The view up here’s great. Jealous, Belphie?”

Belphie scoffed and shook his head. “Enjoy it while it lasts, kid. I’m up next.”

The group was led into one of the buildings, a really old and absolutely gorgeous parliament building that almost made MC’s jaw drop in sheer awe. Angels milled about inside, casting curious glances at the group as they walked through. Paintings lined the walls with frames almost as magnificent as the paintings themselves. And of course, the floor was just as clean and shiny as all the marble staircases.

The Avatar of Greed had slowed his pace considerably, quieting down and slinking to the back of the group. L!MC, who was in the middle of the group nearly rolled their eyes. Of course Mammon would be sneaking off to try and steal something.

As Mammon disappeared down a hallway with no one but L!MC the wiser, they took it upon themselves to go after him. And to think, when MC first got there he thought he’d have to babysit them...

L!MC snuck away from the group, everyone too preoccupied with their rosy nostalgia to really notice their absence. As they sped through the hallways after Mammon, they noticed the farther they went, the fewer angels there were, and the less grand the building became. It slowly morphed into what a human world’s storage building’s hallway looked like. No gorgeous paintings, no sparkly floor, and the doors that were open contained row upon row of shelves containing files and folders. The files would sometimes float on and off the shelves, moving themselves around and sometimes float out the door and down the hallway.

It wasn’t creepy per say, just a bit odd. L!MC picked up their pace as they caught a flash of white hair disappear into a room as they rounded the corner.

“Mammon!” L!MC hissed, they moved closer to the door. “Mammon! I’m going to tell Lucifer if you steal something and cause a-”

Mammon burst out of the room, his face drained of all colour. Upon seeing L!MC he wordlessly grabbed their hand and pulled them away from the room. L!MC tried to steal a glance inside, but Mammon yanked them forward and shook his head.

“Don’t go in there.” He said, his tone unusually serious.

“Why? What did you see?” L!MC asked as they tried to keep in step with the taller demon.

Mammon whirled on them, his eyes wild and sweat beading on his forehead. He stopped suddenly and put his hands on their shoulders. “L!MC, clean the wax out of your ears and listen. You can’t go in there. Nothin’ good’s in there. Got it?”

L!MC hesitated, what was in there that could have spooked him so much? They slowly nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Mammon let out a deep breath and patted their shoulders. “Good... now we should get back to the others.”

The glare Lucifer gave Mammon did nothing to alter the second-born’s strange behaviour when the two returned to the group.

“And where exactly did you two disappear to?”

Feeling the need to cover for their uncle, L!MC responded with a smooth practiced shrug. “Went off to try and steal something. Don’t worry, he didn’t manage to nab anything. Don’t bother with punishment, either. The state I found him in was punishment enough.”

When L!MC would make a fool out of Mammon to get him out of a punishment, he’d usually scowl at MC and agree with the story, but that time, he only nodded.

“Yeah...”

Not very convinced, Lucifer kept a much closer eye on Mammon for the rest of the tour.

L!MC, A!MC, and M!MC had made plans to meet up with Luke later, but L!MC had forgotten their DDD at the parliament building, so they had to quickly turn back and grab it.

Their DDD was placed on the front desk, evidently some kind soul found it and placed it there for the owner to find. How nice of them.

As L!MC turned to leave, they paused. What exactly scared Mammon so much? They took one step back, then another, and another, and soon they were rushing down the nearly empty hallways.

They reached the door, which was closed, but the lock had remnants of magic being used to open it. L!MC snorted and twisted the doorknob. Of course Mammon would find the first locked door and assume there was treasure inside.

L!MC swung open the door, only to find a completely pitch black room, they had to blink a few times to see if they were seeing things right, a completely dark room... in the Celestial Realm of all places? This couldn’t have been what freaked Mammon out so much, sure he was a little afraid of the dark, but when the dark freaked him out it didn’t make him go completely wooden. If anything it made him louder.

Demons could see in the dark no problem, but even L!MC was having some difficulty. They felt around for a light switch and flicked it on. The room was... completely empty save for a crystal ball in the centre. Ignoring any and all red flags, L!MC walked over and tapped the crystal ball, it’s milky surface remained the same. Sure... this whole thing was kind of creepy but there was nothing to be that afraid of-

L!MC felt their stomach drop as gravity seemed to abandon them and they felt themselves fly upwards after a massive ball of light enveloped them. When they felt their feet touch the ground, they blinked a few times as their vision returned to them. Their breath hitched in their throat as they looked at what stood in front of them.

On a pedestal, encased in glass, was a small pile of shining gold feathers. MC didn’t dare breathe as they stepped closer to view them. They were so completely gorgeous... every slight movement made them twinkle and sparkle, L!MC could only imagine what they might have looked like attached to a pair of wings.

L!MC reached their hand out to touch the glass, completely mesmerized by the beauty of the feathers, they called out to them to hold them, to take them, return them to where they belonged...

The half demon felt their conscious get ripped from their body the moment their fingertips touched the glass.

The angel loved his wings, the whole world knew it. They sparkled and glimmered in the light of the person he held in the highest regard. They made a good pair, the two of them.

In a world where the angel could not keep too many material possessions, he took pride in caring for his wings, they were his most prized possessions, after all. Every time he took to the sky he basked in the admiring glances the other angels gave him. They were truly perfect, even the fact that he was a rampant troublemaker couldn’t stop people from staring in awe at his wings.

As a young angel when they first grew in, he lamented at their upkeep, but as he grew, he learned to love this part of himself. These were his wings. His brothers and sister often compared his to the eldest, he’d always tease that he may have only had two wings, they were still better than all six of the eldest’s. The eldest brother would always scoff and shake his head, a fond smile on his face.

He is glad.

One strike to the base of his skull was all it took. One hit from someone he once called a friend sent him falling from the heavens after the eldest.

He is glad that he was unconscious when his most prized possessions burned.

L!MC snapped their hand back and nearly let out a scream. They shook their head frantically as they stepped back, knocking their elbow into the crystal ball. They felt themselves lurch upwards again.

This time, they were placed in front of a broken bow. The bow itself was silver, intricate gold designs were etched in its surface. Such a beautiful creation should have never seen battle...

Refusing to be tempted by the object, L!MC felt themselves get thrown towards the glass anyway, their palm slammed against the display as their conscious abandoned them for the second time.

He was jealous.

It’s a sin to envy one’s neighbour, but the angel did so anyway.

His brothers and sisters welcomed him home from the war with open arms. Hugs and conversations were exchanged, funny anecdotes and laughter were clear to hear from blocks away. The angel felt loved.

There was no more war to fight. The war with the demons had ended in a stalemate. The army of heaven no longer needed a general.

The angel felt useless.

A burden on the Celestial Realm. That’s what he thought he was. His siblings all had their duties, they did their jobs with a smile, but he had no job to do. No battles to fight in.

He envied their ability to feel needed. Maybe that’s why his elder brothers gave him the bow.

The bow itself was the perfect weapon, but it was never meant to be brought into battle. Each gold design told the story of a battle the angel had emerged victorious from, the battles that the army of heaven wouldn’t have won without him.

The bow not only told the tales of his greatest victories, it told the stories of his time with his siblings. The times he took care of them, listened to them ramble aimlessly about the things they loved and enjoyed. The bow told the stories of how his siblings enjoyed listening to him talk about what he loved dearly.

The angel cherished that bow more than anything else he owned. He put it on a higher pedestal than any of his militaristic achievements. He loved it dearly.

Such a perfect bow should have never seen battle.

One slash broke the bow, the next slash severed one of his wings.

He fell like the rest of his siblings. His other wing was damaged beyond repair. And the perfect weapon that should have never seen battle...

The bow remains here. It remains here with the fallen angel’s sense of self worth.

Completely unable to hide their grief, L!MC snatched their hand back and suppressed a sob. These feelings were not only their own. They wanted to leave.

Slumping against the crystal ball, a familiar sense of weightlessness carried them to the next room.

The next room, L!MC almost pitched over and vomited at the sight. Wings...

A pair of the most beautiful and colourful wings they had ever seen. They looked like butterfly wings, but no human world butterfly could compare to the wings that stood before L!MC.

Though, there was something marring the beauty of the wings, the base of the wings where one would think they would connect to the angel blessed enough to have been born with, were torn and shredded. The injuries seemed almost recent as the wings sat perfectly preserved, the blood caking the edges seemed to glimmer slightly in the light.

“Don’t make me... don’t make me...” L!MC whispered. No one was there to hear their pleas as their fingers brushed the glass.

The Jewel of the Heavens was vain.

This was not an unusual thing to note, every living thing in all three realms celebrated and adored him for his beauty. It was only natural that he become at least slightly vain.

From his birth to the present day, all he had to do was bat his eyelashes and plead and everyone would fall under his spell. He was an adorable little troublemaker, beloved by all the Celestial Realm.

His wings came in later than the others, he longed to take to the sky like those he called siblings. When his wings appeared, so perfect and beautiful, he soared through the sky like the rest of his family.

They compared in beauty to the second and first born’s wings, but it truly couldn’t be fairly judged. His wings were different, they were unique. It certainly didn’t stop the the friendly jabs and competition the fifth and second born took part in.

It didn’t matter. Everyone adored him and his beautiful, perfect wings.

The wings that allowed him to help teach his younger siblings to fly as well, the wings that allowed him to monitor the humans and their affairs, the wings that allowed him to retain his fitting moniker as jewel of the heavens...

He did not have the luxury of falling with his wings like the eldest. We count it as a blessing that they were severed without damage right here in the Celestial Realm.

Now their beauty can remain without the sin they were attached to marring their perfection.

L!MC didn’t have the energy to weep like their body begged them to do. This wasn’t fair... they shouldn’t have come...

The crystal ball was not finished with them, it sent them onto the next room.

Jewelry. That was what was proudly placed on display in front of them. L!MC didn’t have the energy to fight against the pull of the item as their hand brushed the glass.

He loved his family.

The entire realm knew that. That’s why he guarded the gates so fiercely. He was going to protect his family, no matter what.

The Celestial Realm admired his loyalty. But his loyalty was not to the realm or to our father, but to those he deemed his true family.

The gold that adorned him was meant to symbolize his future as an angel. He would have gone far. A seraphim, maybe even an archangel one day.

He wore the gold with a sense of pride, the gifts he had been given for his love for his family. Even if they didn’t adorn him with all the love they could, he’d protect them all the same.

He loved them dearly.

The angel’s folly came from loving his family and not the realm.

That is why the gold burned his skin. That is why the scars remain today.

The gold burned so painfully he had to stop to tear them off of him. That is the only reason we didn’t lose more people to his rampage, he stopped to tear off the gifts the Celestial Realm had given him.

This is a good thing.

One whose loyalty does not lie with us does not deserve our gifts.

Slumping in front of the display, L!MC got a better look at the jewelry. It was bent in some places. They tiredly chuckled as the tears pricked at their eyes despite themselves.

It seemed the angel didn’t remove them carefully enough.

The next room, was odd. A stuffed doll stared back at them, it didn’t seem to be any particular animal, or a humanoid figure for that matter. Four limbs made of grey fabric, a blank face, and nothing interesting.

L!MC was less disturbed, but their hand moved to the glass anyway.

The doll was something he had found while breaking the rules.

The angel broke the rules flippantly, like most children did. The problem was it was never corrected. His older brothers doted on him and his twin, and it rotted him to the core.

One wouldn’t think that, he was sweet, he was curious, and he was clever. Curiosity is what led him to the human world to find the doll.

He lived for these quick little visits, he loved humans as much as he loved his fellow angels, he brought his dear siblings down to visit as much as possible. His brothers were not as taken with the humans as he was, but his sister loved them just as much.

The doll was the perfect souvenir. The youngest brother loved to rest, but he never shirked his duties. No matter how tired he was, he worked diligently. The doll was his partner in rest.

It truly was a perfect souvenir from a trip that never should have happened.

A doll should not be taken into battle, so it wasn’t. The battle was not won. So the youngest’s doll remains here.

Similar to the doll, the youngest should not have been taken into battle. He was not built for fighting. That is why he fell. His brothers doted on him, which is why his twin took the hits meant for him.

This doll remains here as a warning. Angels are not humans, an angel forgetting that fact leads to despair.

Silent tears rolled down L!MC’s cheeks. They wanted to go home...

They wished for no more rooms. No one heard their wish.

A sword. A dazzling sword with a diamond studded hilt and a wickedly sharp point was what awaited L!MC in the next room. This was a sword anyone would be proud to wield. L!MC’s breath hitched in their throat.

This sword was calling to them. It begged them to take it, it was their’s after all. L!MC felt their own magic flare up in response.

It was their sword.

Their hand touched the glass.

It was their’s... it had to be!

The Morning Star was the most perfect and beautiful of all the angels. He commanded the angels alongside his counterpart.

The sword he carried with him complimented his armour perfectly, and the armour his counterpart wore complimented him as well.

They truly were a perfect pair.

The two were raised together, they learned together, fought together, so it was only fitting that the two be gifted matching swords.

They were the pinnacle of what angels should be. The pair of them watched over the Celestial Realm with pride.

The swords should never have been used against each other.

Sparks flew as the swords clashed against each other, the sounds of the pair fighting was alien to the ears of all the battling angels. The Morning Star was losing.

He may have been losing, but he was a prideful being, and brings of pride did not yield to defeat.

He had been disarmed, the blades of his own sword rested near his neck as he looked up at his opponent.

The pair should not be fighting.

The Morning Star refused to yield. The Morning Star refused to grovel for the forgiveness of the realm. The Morning Star was prepared to die.

He didn’t. The one he had started the war for slammed into his opponent, knocking the sword away from him and levelling her own sword at the Morning Star’s adversary.

She demanded that he not lay a hand her brother. He did not submit to her command. They fought.

The angel would have helped. He would have gotten up to fight as well, but with no weapon and too drained to use magic, what could he do?

His sister’s battle took her farther and farther away, he needed to get to her, he needed to help her. He needed to protect her.

His sister’s opponent fell to the ground. She held the Morning Star’s sword in her hand. He felt a twinge of pride upon seeing her wield it with such ferocity.

The sword was not meant to be wielded by her.

He was just too far away. Too far away to protect her from the arrows that pierced her wings.

She was the first to fall.

He could not let her fall alone. He would protect her.

He would protect her like a brother should.

L!MC knew he couldn’t protect her. Not after she crashed through all three barriers that separated the realms from each other.

They had heard the story once and never wanted to hear it again. The story of their father’s greatest failure.

The half demon giggled as their tears spilled from their eyes. Their earlier daydreams of being an angel were ridiculous... they never would have existed.

No proper angel would ever be with a human. No proper angel would have a half human child.

They would never be an angel, and they didn’t want to be.

And the Celestial Realm didn’t want them to be either.

The crystal ball released them, they were back in the room where they started. A golden feather rested in their palm.

They checked their DDD. Only a minute had passed.

They silently walked out of the room.

L!MC forewent spending time with their friends. They found Mammon alone on a balcony, he rested his elbow on the railing and held his head in his hand. The wind lightly ruffled his hair. He seemed calmer than he did that morning.

He turned to look at L!MC, a smile on his face. “Hey kiddo, why aren’t ya with the others?”

His smile vanished when he saw L!MC’s expression. “Oh kid... tell me ya didn’t-”

L!MC let out a wail and ran into his arms, burying their head in their chest as they sobbed.

“I should have listened...” MC whispered. “I should have listened...”

Mammon said nothing, he only wrapped his arms around them.

L!MC collected themselves, and wiped their tears away. They held out the feather. “This... this is yours... isn’t it?”

Tears welled in Mammon’s eyes as he delicately took the feather. He smiled softly as the tears rolled down his face.

“Y-yeah... it is...” Mammon whispered. “Y-ya should have seen em’ L!MC... they were amazin’...”

“I’m sure they were.” L!MC nodded trying to hold back another wave of tears.

The Celestial Realm was perfect.

L!MC, Mammon, and everyone in the three realms knew that. And perfection had no place for beings like them.

#All aboard the angst train! Choo *sniffle* CHOO!#Obey me #Obey me!#Obey me Fic #Obey me MC #Obey me shall we date #Obey me! Shall we date?#Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Lilith #Obey me Leviathan #Obey Me Celestial Realm #obey me angst

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iristhemessenger · 4 years ago

Text

Just for a moment, dance with me?

My very first Wayhaven fic, in the spirit of sharing more F content! <3

Pairing: Felix Hauville/f.Detective (Eris Evergreen)

Summary: Eris' life has been anything but simple these days, her thoughts heavy with the safety of her town and the bloodthirsty monster who threatens them all. She just needs a moment, one blissful moment to take her mind off of it all and Felix may be just the person to help her out. After all, how can she say 'no' to that charming smile?

The song "Cheerleader" of course belongs to Omi, and is a personal favorite for those days when you just feel like dancing to something with a little bop. ^-^

~ * ~

“When I need motivation

My one solution is my queen

'Cause she stay strong (yeah yeah)

She is always in my corner

Right there when I want her

All these other girls are tempting

But I'm empty when you're gone

And they say

Do you need me?

Do you think I'm pretty?

Do I make you feel like cheating?

And I'm like no, not really 'cause

Oh I think that I found myself a cheerleader

She is always right there when I need her”

For such a small town where barely anything happens, Eris will never understand how she still manages to find a towering stack of paperwork and reports on her desk nearly every morning, demanding her attention as she eyes the pile wearily. It has been a quiet day, all things considered, giving her more than ample time to make a good dent in said paperwork.

Most of them are small things, little complaints lodged by bickering neighbors or elder members of the community expressing their displeasure with the local youth who wander the streets, playing their music too loud or generally just standing around and being a nuisance.

She is not sure how many times she’s had to explain to Mrs. Henderson, one of Wayhaven’s regular complainants, that young Micky Roads and his small group of friends were not part of some drug-peddling gang, merely enthusiastic beat-boxers who preferred to share their music with the rest of the town than in the confines of his mother's basement.

Still, she should be thankful that such petty grievances are her only worries these days. What with Murphy running around still free, a part of her had been anxiously waiting for the phone at the station to ring yet again, signalling another death at the crazed vampire’s hands. Yet another life she had failed to protect, just like Garret Hayes.

She knows there's nothing she could have done in the grand scheme of things, but that only alleviated her guilt by a small margin. She was supposed to protect the innocent, supposed to be someone they could turn to in their time of fear and need but this...with Murphy, her blood, her mother, Unit Bravo and the Agency. It was all too much, and so out of her realm of control and understanding.

How was she supposed to prepare her town, her people, for such chaos without causing wide-spread panic among the residents of Wayhaven. If they even believed her at all, that was.

She wouldn’t blame them if they called her batty, no pun intended, this wasn’t exactly the kind of thing she expected to be dealing with when she took on the title of detective for the town. The police academy didn’t exactly train one for handling bloodthirsty, serial killing supernaturals.

She was tempted to write them a letter, to correct that particular oversight.

Not that it would do much good, she knew her mother would only destroy any such evidence against the Agency through her, she was guessing at this point, numerous contacts in order to maintain the secrecy of their shadow agency and dealings with the supernatural.

“Good morning, detective!” A familiar, jovial voice calls out, breaking the silence and her own morose thoughts.

Looking up from her desk, Eris can't help the smile that almost involuntary spreads across her face upon seeing her guest. It’s nothing compared to the dazzling smile that greets her in return as Felix saunters into her office. Eyes so intent on her she fidgets in her chair a little, unused to such undivided attention.

“It’s my turn to escort you home this fine evening.” He explains, giving her a once over that has goosebumps prickling over her skin under his appreciative gaze. “Though, admittedly, you are much finer.”

“Oh?” She raises an eyebrow, confused. “Not that I am complaining, but I thought it was Mason’s turn to take me home tonight?”

It had become the new norm at this point, the members of Unit Bravo taking turns escorting or babysitting her throughout the day while the others patrolled the town and surrounding area for Murphy.

She had already spent a delightful morning with Adam.

Sarcasm heavy on the 'delightful' as the leader of the vampiric agents had made no attempt to hide his annoyance when she'd insisted on a small outing from the station to Haley's bakery, for her regular morning caramel macchiato and blueberry scone. Citing the venture as 'inadvisable' and 'ridiculously foolhardy' when the station already had a (semi) working coffee machine in the break room.

The fact that it made coffee that looked and tasted like tar was, of course, of no concern to him.

Seeing Felix after an entire morning of that, and a few more mysteriously dented filing cabinets and a now unusable soap dispenser in the men's room, was honestly a breath of fresh air.

Nothing against Mason, who she suspected was finally beginning to warm up to her (he’d even begun to put out his cigarettes during their car rides back to her home, knowing how much she disliked the smell) but she found that she enjoyed spending time with Felix.

The younger vampire’s mere presence seemed to set her at ease, in a way she couldn’t quite explain. Whether it was his constant string of jokes, as strange as they could be sometimes, or his boundless optimism, whatever it was she sorely needed that right now.

“Ah, well…” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, unwilling to admit that Mason had only agreed to switch their shifts because he had all but begged the older vampire until he’d grown fed up with his nagging. “Adam decided to take him out to patrol the warehouse district again for signs of Murphy or a potential hideout. So, you get me for the afternoon instead, if that's ok by you?”

There's a slight hint of uncertainty at the end of his usually confident southern drawl, one he hopes she doesn't catch into.

"Of course it is!" She nods, and he is happy to see her smile, genuine and honest, still in place. Not to mention he'd noted the slight jump in her pulse and heartbeat when he’d announced himself earlier, making his own grin widen. "I always enjoy your company."

"Careful detective, keep buttering me up with sweet words and I'll never want to leave you alone." He teases, with a wink for good measure.

"Oh, heavens forbid." She teases back without missing a beat, shuffling some papers on her desk. "How would I ever manage?"

Felix is practically beaming now down at her, basking in their easy banter. He enjoys these stolen moments with the detective, who was infinitely more fun than patrol duty. Even if at some point he knew they would eventually have to part ways, he would take what he could get. He wanted to savor the time with Eris while he could, and if she were amenable to his flirting and interest, even after discovering their true nature, then he sure as hell wasn’t going to turn her away.

“I’m almost done with these reports” She sighs, “just waiting on some paperwork from Tina and we’ll be good to go if that sounds ok?”

He watches her as she stretches her arms high above her head, in an attempt to ease the stiffness that has made its way through her body. Her back arches in the chair, chest lifting forward, revealing every soft, and ample curve beneath her light blue t-shirt. The young vampire licks his top lip.

“More than ok, excellent even.”

His voice is smoother than silk when he answers, and she swears something breaks within her at the sound of it, leaving her flustered as she catches his eye. She clears her throat, sinking back into her chair.

"Alright then, good...that's...good."

Without another word, but his usual, cocky grin now firmly plastered on his face at a job well done, the agent makes himself comfortable. Draping his body across what has now become his usual chair in her office, feet in the air he crosses his arms across his chest and settles in.

As uncomfortable as the chair itself was, as he often complained, for some reason he continued to stake his claim, flopping into that particular chair every chance he got.

The fact that it was close to her desk, giving them both a clear view of the other, was a nice side benefit to be sure.

It's not long before the quiet she'd found herself in before returns, as Felix does his best not to disturb her. She appreciates his effort, though she can tell it is a trying endeavor as she catches his feet twitching.

In an attempt to alleviate his boredom, she turns on her radio. It's already tuned in to her favorite station, and soon the office is filled with music and she can't help but smile softly as a pleased grin spreads across the vampire's shapely mouth.

Felix, for his part, is grateful to find the station plays modern, up to date songs. Not that he didn’t like the music Nate often played, per say, but it did lack a certain energy to it that Felix craved.

Keeping a not-so-subtle eye on the detective, he is happy to see she seems to be of the same mindset. While looking over a few documents, she unconsciously begins to bob her head to the catchy, upbeat rhythm of a song Felix knows well.

To his extreme delight, he even sees her begin to follow the words, perfectly lip-syncing every lyric as she continues to follow the beat.

He watches her lips as they move, soft, pink, a little chapped and bare of any lipstick or gloss. Aside from the barest hint of eyeliner and complimentary eye shadow, he notes she doesn’t wear much make-up. Preferring a more natural look, which suits her well he thinks.

Felix soaks it all in, this moment with her. Unguarded, relaxed, being here with Eris. It felt, so natural and right. He’d never felt like this before with another person, aside from his teammates. He wants to keep it, keep her, but he does his best from getting too excited, just in case.

She’s been very receptive to his flirting, albeit a tad shy which he found adorable, allowing him to savour the growing attraction between them. But, he couldn't help but wonder. What about something…more?

He’s brought out of his own thoughts when her eyes, dark blue like sapphires, catch his. She instantly straightens, brushing a strand of long, black hair behind her ear and clears her throat.

“I, uh, I really like this song...” She admits biting her bottom lip, embarrassed at having been caught.

Felix only smiles, loving the soft blush that blossoms over her fair skin as her pulse quickens.

“You have excellent taste,” His eyes sparkle impishly. “This is one of my favorites too! I wonder what else we have in common, we should definitely take the time to find out...”

He practically purrs the last part, and she can’t help but laugh nervously at how easily he manages to fluster her.

“Back in college I used to be a member of this dance team, and this song was a part of one of our regular routines...” She confesses, voice trailing off as she realizes what she's just said.

Gods, why was she telling him this?! It wasn’t something she advertised, exactly. Though, there had been the occasional incident where Verda or Tina had walked in on her jamming out in her office in an attempt to blow off steam after a particularly nasty meeting with the mayor or a run-in with Bobby.

To her surprise, instead of laughing at her like she expected, Felix jumps out of his chair so suddenly she barely sees him before he is leaning excitedly over her desk. His face is so close to her own, she nearly falls backwards, chair and all at the sudden proximity.

“Show me?!” His excitement is hard to deny, and she finds herself smiling at his enthusiasm.

“S-show you? Like, now, here in the office?” She repeats, receiving a vigorous nod in return.

“Yeah, it’ll be much more fun than just waiting around for those reports. Besides, you can’t not show me after letting that juicy bit of information slip just now.”

He can’t be serious, she thinks, but looking into those earnest eyes, so open and honest, she knows there’s no way he isn’t. They’ve spent enough time together at this point for her to get a sense of the young vampire’s exuberant nature, and, lacking anything else of immense interest to distract him, she knows there’s no getting out of this without refusing him flat out.

The very notion of telling him ‘no’ and potentially losing that bright smile of his doesn’t exactly sit well with her either, for reasons she doesn’t care to dwell on. So, sighing dramatically, she reluctantly gets out of her chair.

“Ok, ok…it’s been awhile so bear with me.” She says, moving to the middle of the room.

Shaking her arms and legs a bit, Eris takes a few steadying breathes in an attempt to quell her nerves. A difficult task considering she is now the focus of Felix’s attention, those amber eyes of his trained solely on her.

She has to think on it a bit, moving her feet and arms in various motions and poses before the movements become familiar again and, smiling like a fool, she is able to recall the entire routine from muscle memory until she is gliding and bopping across the floor of her office like she used to during her college days.

For a single, blissful moment, she forgets where she is. Caught in the nostalgia of her memories and the music.

Simpler, happier times when the world made sense. Before everything turned upside down, before poor Janet and Garret's deaths. Before her mother and Unit Bravo came crashing into her town, and life. Before she found herself being hunted down by a psychopathic vampire for a mutation within her blood she never knew she had before a few days ago.

Just dancing, in the quad with her former classmates and friends. Laughing, letting all their worries melt away as they practiced their routines. Improvising along the way, goofing off and having a good time despite the pressures of upcoming exams and troublesome boyfriends or girlfriends.

Felix watches her the entire time, absorbing the routine with such an immersed focus she can’t help but feel the heat creeping up along her neck to the tips of her ears. Especially when his eyes seem to stray to her swaying hips, his interest blatant and intense.

Swallowing hard, she comes to an abrupt stop and laughs awkwardly. Staring at the floor, with it’s uninteresting color palette. “Welp, yeah…that’s it!"

I’ll just go die of embarrassment now , she groans internally as she turns back to her desk.

“No, wait!” He stops her, reaching out to catch her by her arm. She shivers. The touch of his hand on her bare skin sends a pleasant warmth throughout her body, traveling all the way down to her toes. It's not dissimilar to the same feeling she'd experienced the day they'd gone to Kate's, when he'd ventured to touch her before getting back into her poor, beat up hatchback.

He feels it too, staring down at where his hand grasps her forearm. His smile softens, and he takes the moment to brush his thumb along her skin. As if relishing the touch and the sensations it gives them both, and she relaxes into the touch. “I really liked it, your dance. I think I got the moves down, let me try it with you, please?”

She only hesitates a moment as she considers, before nodding. He releases her, though he appears reluctant to do so. To her own surprise, she also feels a pang of regret at the loss of contact.

Grabbing her phone from her desk, she opens up her playlists on her music app. It doesn't take her long to find the song she's looking for, despite the numerous playlists she has collected over the years.

Music had always been therapeutic for her, a means of escaping or dealing with the world in the absence of her mother. Dancing was an extension of that, a fun hobby that had helped her work off stress and gain a few friends along the way.

And now, here in her office, during what had to be the most chaotic time of her life, she was able to share it with Felix. Grinning at the thought, she positions her phone upright before pressing play. The same song from the radio begins anew, and she returns to her position in the center of the room.

This time, Felix happily sidles up next to her, so eager she can practically feel him vibrating with barely contained excitement. She’s never met anyone with so much raw energy before, and she’s sure not even Tina could match him in sheer vivacity.

As they begin the routine, Eris can't help but think he would have made an excellent addition to her former dance team. In more ways than one, she decides after they run through the steps a few times. He's a quick learner, following her lead, and perfectly imitating every movement..

Surprisingly, it’s not long before they fall into an easy groove. Their timing, uncertain and new at first, quickly becomes almost second nature by the time they all but perfect the routine and soon they find themselves laughing and smiling as they lose themselves to the rhythm. Felix is a natural performer, his movements graceful yet laced with his usual cheer and vibrance, as they dance to the hip-hop tempo of the song.

“She walks like a model

She grants my wishes like a genie in a bottle (yeah yeah)

'Cause I'm the wizard of love

And I got the magic wand

All these other girls are tempting

But I'm empty when you're gone

And they say

Do you need me?

Do you think I'm pretty?

Do I make you feel like cheating?

And I'm like no, not really 'cause

Oh I think that I found myself a cheerleader

She is always right there when I need her”

Eris can only imagine how they would look to the rest of the station, if Tina or Verda, or god-forbid Douglas, walked in on them at that moment. There would be no end to the heckling she’d endure, that was for sure but for now it didn’t matter. They were carefree and safe behind these four walls, away from the troubles that haunted her outside of the sanctuary of her office.

The song eventually ends, but her playlist goes on, queuing up the next song in her library. It's another dance hit, one she recalls often being played in the local bars and dance halls that she and her friends would frequent. Dancing long into the night, until they were a merry band of sweaty limbs and clothes, high off the adrenaline and fruity cocktails plied by the bartenders and eager would-be paramours.

“Ah, hell yeah!” Felix laughs, “this is another good one! Your playlist is fire, detective.”

Without pause, they throw themselves into the new song, adding their own unique bit of flair here and there as they dance.

“Any cool routines go with this one?”

She shakes her head as she shimmies and rolls her hips playfully around the vampire, who watches her closely. “Nope! Completely freestyle, think you can handle that?”

“Oh, I can more than handle…” He promises, rolling his lips suggestively. He beckons her, wagging his finger in a come-hither gesture. “Show me what you got, detective?”

She laughs, mirth bubbling over.

For the first time since all of this mess started she feels light, her natural endorphins kicking in and setting her at ease.

When the moment presents itself, Felix takes the opportunity to take her by the hand. Twirling her here and there, bringing her closer as her back falls against his chest before whipping her away once again. He's quick on his feet, and thanks to her years of experience, dancing with numerous partners Eris finds herself able to match and meet his pace with little trouble as the two moved in tandem.

Soon enough, they find themselves swaying together. It’s the closest she’s ever been, physically, to the younger agent by themselves. A fact that Felix seems to pick up on as well, though he feels very little inclination to resume any distance between them. If anything, he takes advantage of the moment, eyes eagerly seeking her’s as he dares to rest his hand on her waist.

The touch sends an instant jolt up her spine, but she doesn't push him away. Instead, she melts into him, meeting his gaze and welcoming the heat that has been building between them.

She’ll never get over how beautiful his eyes are. Like gemstones, sparkling gold and striking. She could lose herself in them forever. It’s amazing how easily they fall into each other, as if they’d been dancing together for years.

“This kind of music and dancing is definitely more my speed, not like the fancy ballroom dancing Nate likes. Though, he is really good at it.” Felix breaks the tension, laughing lightly. “He did teach me a few fun moves too.”

She barely hears him, but smiles and nods anyways. The blood pumps loudly in her ears, heart racing as she feels the sweat begin to drip down her temple. It’s been awhile since she went this hard. Usually, even her most energetic dance sessions were within the safe confines of her apartment. Felix, frustratingly, looks unperturbed by all their physical exertion. Yet another vampire perk, she guessed.

"Here comes the dip!" He announces suddenly, leaving her only a fraction of a second to react as he suddenly drops her downward.

Her arms reach out, instinctively wrapping around his neck to keep from falling. He may not have the sheer muscle mass or height of his companions, but Eris can feel the strength in Felix's arms and neck as he holds her tightly. He’s slender, but solid.

"Don't worry, I got you!" He laughs, lilting voice taking on a huskier tone as he speaks. "I won't let you go, unless you want me to…though, that may be a bit difficult. I kind of like holding you like this.”

Eris feels her heart skip a few beats as she processes his words. Chest rising and falling as she attempts to catch her breath, the heat that had momentarily been abandoned returning full force, crackling in the sparse space left between them.

Charged and tempting, like a favorite candy left unsupervised on the table. All one had to do was give in, indulge in that first, sweet taste...

“Well, you two seem to be having fun.”

Startled, Eris looks up to see Verda standing in the doorway of her office. There is no mistaking the twinkle in his eye, or the amused twitch to the corner of his mouth and suddenly Eris feels the need to bury herself in a deep, deep hole. Beside him, or more like towering behind him, is an all too familiar, and exceptionally handsome face.

“Felix, this is hardly what I’d call escorting Eris home.” Nate sighs. Despite his soft rebuke, she can still see a small, indulgent smile on the man’s face.

“Oops, sorry Natey!” Felix laughs, quickly helping her back to her feet. “We were just having a bit of fun. Right?"

He shifts his gaze back to her, eyes bright, still filled with the vigor of their dancing and the sizzling remnants of their lost moment.

"Sorry, Nate it's my fault." Eris tries to apologize, smoothing the wrinkles from her shirt. It was more a joint effort, if she was being honest, but she was also the one who gave into Felix's request in the first place. So, she felt somewhat responsible for their delay.

It felt silly, like being caught by a parent with a cookie from the cookie jar before dinner. Not that she would know what that was like.

"I'd be inclined to believe that, Eris. However, Felix has a much longer track record than you when it comes to belying his duties." He says, casting a knowing look at said agent.

Felix only smiles with a shrug, looking perfectly unapologetic.

She chuckles, patting him on the shoulder. "Welp, I tried. Never let it be said I didn’t try to defend your good name.”

“Detective!” Placing a hand to his chest, Felix sighs dreamily. “My personal knight in shining armor. You sure know how to make a guy feel special.”

"I just came to deliver these for you, from Tina." Verda chimes in, passing the manilla envelopes to the still-grinning Eris.

"And where did Tina get off too?''

Now, his smile vanishes, "she left work a little early so she could try and catch Kate at the dental office, drive her home...poor woman has been on autopilot since her son's passing…"

A somber silence falls over the room, the reality of death reclaiming the once vibrant and merry atmosphere. It's almost suffocating.

Nate clears his throat, thankfully breaking the sudden quiet that blankets them all.

"Well, let's be off then before Adam comes looking for us both." Eris cringes, she can only imagine the stiff lecture that would follow if that ended up happening.

"Let me file these away, then I'll grab my coat and meet you two out front?"

"Sounds good." Nate agrees with a soft smile, warm brown eyes alight in good cheer.

After Felix, Nate is another member of Unit Bravo who sets Eris at ease. The man exuded a natural warmth and openness that was hard to resist, not to mention rare, for which she was grateful for. A stark contrast to the other two members of their team who were currently not present.

"A good night to you then, Eris." Verda nods, "I am going to call it a day, Eric and the kids have dinner waiting for me. Mustn't let it get cold, I’d never hear the end of it."

She smiles, nodding. "Have a good night, Verda. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, say ‘hi’ to the family for me."

The vampires move to follow the pathologist out of her office, Felix gracing her with another wink as he trails after Nate to wait outside.

"Hey, Felix." She calls out, before he disappears.

He stops in the doorway, turning back to smile at her. "What's up, detective? Itching for another dance already, because I wouldn’t say no to that."

"No, I mean - I would, it's just…" she runs a hand through her hair, letting out a breath. How did he always manage to get her so worked up? "Thank you."

"For what?" He asks, smile dropping a little in confusion.

"For...taking my mind off things. I was kind of in a funk before you came to get me, and the dancing just now...well, it really helped. So, thank you for that."

Eris thinks she's seen most of Felix's expressions by this point, the agent has varying degrees of excitement and cheer, whether genuine or cheeky. Occasionally somber, like he had been with Kate. But the look on his face now could only be described as, well, almost bashful.

"I, heh, well...your welcome, then." Eris blinks, surprised at his response. She's never quite heard him at a loss for words before. He turns away, rubbing the side of his neck. Was he, was he blushing? "Always here to help…"

He laughs, the sound not at all like his usual loud, boisterous laugh. More like a self-conscious chuckle, as he shifts awkwardly on his feet. “I, uh...I better get to Nate, before he thinks I am holding you up again. Don’t keep me-us waiting too long, alright?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of my presence, even for a few seconds.” She jests, enjoying the leverage she seems to have gained over the normally unflappable flirt.

He stares at her, as if he’s never seen anything quite like her before bursting into another nervous laugh. “Your something else, you know that?”

With that, Felix tears himself away and she smiles at his retreating back. It was nice to know she could throw the usually charming and cheeky agent off of his game, giving him a taste of his own medicine every once in a while was very cathartic for all the times he managed to leave her a stammering mess.

Still, biting her bottom lip in thought as she recalls the heated moment they'd shared, she wonders what would have happened had Nate and Verda not shown up. How much of this, all the flirting and back and forth, was simply a fun distraction for the vampire who seemed to draw her in so effortlessly with his easy smile and otherworldly eyes.

He seemed the type to love them and leave them, moving on to the next new and interesting thing that caught his fancy. Though, it felt wrong to think of him like that, as if there was still so much more to him she had yet to see and understand. Maybe there was more to him, hidden beneath the charming smiles and quick quips, waiting for the right person to take an interest and a closer look.

Watching her from a short distance, lingering at the station's entrance, she can't see the soft amber eyes that mirror her own musings. Wondering if maybe she might take him up on that second dance, just the two of them, and where it might lead.

Would it be so bad, he thinks. After this whole mess with Murphy was settled, he knew they'd be called away again to god-knows wherever they were needed next. But, watching the detective as she finished her day's work, catching the way she smiled softly as she mouthed a few familiar words from the song they'd danced to just moments ago, he feels a sudden, anxious kind of excitement pull at his chest at the possibilities.

Until then, Felix forces himself to turn away. With a spring in his step, he replays the feeling of her skin against his own, the beating of her heart, her enticing aroma surrounding him, overwhelming his senses. Snuggling into his thick, cotton scarf he savors the memory. Bracing himself for the cold, and Nate, both waiting for him outside the warmth of the station.

He would definitely need to see about that second dance, he decides with some conviction. Hopefully, before they were forced to return to their lives before all of this killing and madness.

With a wide grin, he hums happily, the same tune that he would now forever associate as their song to their first dance.

~ * ~

“Oh I think that I found myself a cheerleader

She is always right there when I need her

She gives me love and affection

Baby did I mention, you're the only girl for me

No I don't need a next one

Mama loves you too, she thinks I made the right selection

Now all that's left to do

Is just for me to pop the question

Oh I think that I found myself a cheerleader

She is always right there when I need her

Oh I think that I found myself a cheerleader

She is always right there when I need her.”

~ * ~

Below is a link to the routine I had in mind when picturing Felix and Eris’ dancing, if you're curious, choreo by Blacka Di Danca ft. Fraules <3

Thank you for reading! I have a few more stories in mind for Flirty Hotville, so he may be making an appearance again here soon…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4E46VmGLc88

#twc #f hauville #eris x felix hauville #the wayhaven chronicles #these two dancing fools #i love them so much #felix hauville #<33333 #yes they make their own playlist after this

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steviedupree · 4 years ago

Photo

I saw [STEPHANIE ‘STEVIE’ DUPREE ] at a coffee shop in [BROOKLYN] today. I forgot how much [SHE/HER] looks like [DAKOTA JOHNSON]. They are a [TWENTY-EIGHT] year old [GRAPHIC DESIGNER] who’s been in NYC for [TEN YEARS] now. Every time we run into each other, they are always [CARING & CREATIVE] but I’ve heard people say they can also be [MEEK & INDECISIVE]. [FIND MY HERE BY HAYLEY WILLIAMS] reminds me of them every time it comes on the radio. — [gabs, she/her/ 24, est]

hi everyone!! my name is gabs and i bring u my bean baby stevie. i’m so excited to be in this wonderful group, and i’m SO excited to write with you all! pls give this a like if you’d like to plot with me and stevie (and dinah, who’s intro will come later today!) | @villagestart

tw: alcoholism, cheating

about —

full name: stephanie brianne dupree age: 28 birthday: june 23rd, 1992 sexual orientation: bisexual gender: cis female pronouns: she/her

bio —

TW ALCOHOLISM. stevie is known as steph back in her hometown of westport, connecticut. she grew up in a seemingly normal household: the only child of a clean-cut couple, a lawyer and a nurse. it always appeared that the dupree family was perfect. but, behind the scenes, her father was battling with some intense alcoholism that tore the family apart from its roots.

the girl always had bigger dreams than the small coastal city she lived in. like every teenager, she wanted to live in new york — an apartment with a view to central park. her family supported her dreams, but was apprehensive about her living in a city quite as big as new york by herself ( which was of course, stevie’s plan )

she was an overall good student, and began dating one of the smart boys in high school, although she knew for sure she had a crush on the cheerleading squad captain. being so young and having no knowledge of the spectrum of sexuality, she repressed it. she liked her boyfriend, but she never managed to keep her eyes off her crush.

and still, she dated this boy throughout high school. when she got accepted to nyu and he to yale ( he was really smart ), they decided to keep dating, just make it long-distance. it worked for a decent amount of time, they would facetime for hours while stevie lived in dorms, he would help her study for her exams, and they tried to meet every so often.

TW CHEATING. it was all going well for stevie, until she formed a more solid friend group. and within this friend group, she started meeting very open girls. it was during this time where she first kissed a girl. enamored by the feeling, she started secretely going on dates, making out and hooking up with girls she met on campus. all while her boyfriend studied his ass off at yale.

it was all just experimenting, until she met bowie. they were assigned the same dorm room — in her eyes, bowie was the coolest girl she’d ever met. it was almost impossible not to crush on her. they became friends, best friends, bowie changed her nickname to stevie… and in return, stevie kissed her. after that kiss, the young dupree sort of switched her point of view, and became pretty devoted to the artist.

but she handled this coming of age experience kind of poorly. instead of giving her boyfriend the peace of mind of a breakup, she sort of just… ghosted him. never answered another text, e-mail call… nothing. she just decided to start her life anew as stevie, in new york, with bowie.

their relationship got pretty serious, and the couple moved in together into a brooklyn apartment after graduating, and thought they’d just figure it out from then on out. it wasn’t smooth sailing all the way, as the couple would very often break up and get back together, both of them finding solace in some other people during the in betweens. stevie knew that the relationship would most likely not be good for either of them, but after sacrificing so much for bowie, she thought she’d have to ride it out. so all the pain other people had gone through at both of their expenses was worth it.

sooner than later, stevie got her first graphic designer job out in the real world, which taught her more about herself than the actual job. from there, she decided her goal as a visual artist would be to have her own studio where she got to choose the clients she worked with, and how she’d work with them. in the meantime, she held various designer and even art director jobs in different companies.

despite her new life seemingly going great, not too long ago bowie decided stevie was too boring for her, and decided to end their on-and-off five-year relationship for good. very soon after, stevie came to find that the woman had been scared her off after she suggested marriage — something she had wanted since the moment their relationship got serious. bowie practically moved out overnight, leaving stevie in an apartment that is way too big for her... all alone. the moment she saw all of bowie’s stuff gone, down to the most insignificant things... she knew it was really over. somehow, the same lack of closure she gave her high school boyfriend came to bite her back, and the whole process has been hard to move on from.

headcanons —

stevie really wants children. she’s too afraid of rejection though, so she hasn’t made any steps towards achieving that goal. maybe she’ll get a cat tbh?

she’s a crazy plant lady. the apartment if practically a jungle at this point.

ever since she started dating bowie, stevie hasn’t gone home to her parents’ in connecticut. she’s too afraid of what her father will say. plus, there was a yelling altercation at a family gathering, so it’s only given her more reasons not to visit.

after hers and bowie’s breakup, stevie took up a ridiculous amount of “hobbies” to keep herself busy: baking/cooking, writing, and many sorts of crafting.

stevie is terrified of ending up an alcoholic like her father, so she drinks very, very little.

#not gabs recycling #villageintro #alcoholism tw #cheating tw

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twentiethcenturymoviesandtv · 3 years ago

Text

The Goonies: Facets of Film

A film isn’t ready for shooting the minute the script has been written and the parts have been cast.

This is pretty obvious: there’s a lot of steps to go through before a project can fully become a film: cameras, lighting, music, sets, special effects, costumes, and tons more that have to go into piecing together a coherent narrative in a way that makes sense using editing and other filmmaking tricks, turning filmed sequences into scenes that tell a story. This is a usage of the production design of the film: using the elements at the filmmaker’s disposal in order to build the ‘film world’ and make it realistic enough that the audience buys it for a while.

This is where the production team comes in.

The job of the behind-the-scenes crew, everyone from the director to the production assistants, is to create this ‘film world’, in any way they can, using cinematography, costuming, special effects, lighting, and everything else at their disposal to convince the audience for a brief period that what they’re seeing is real. These elements, when used well, can capture the attention of an audience and turn a ‘good’ film with a solid story and characters and turn it into a cinematic classic, all through the clever use of movie magic.

And, of course, aside from looking good and being believable, these ‘facets of film’ are also used to tell the story.

These elements, cinematography, sets, etc., are used to highlight the plot and characters to the audience in the most efficient way possible. Although it’s true that some films accomplish this better than others, the best films use these ‘facets of film’ wisely, conveying information to the viewers in ways that make sense, making a film more understandable and enjoyable.

In other words: today, we’re going to talk about what makes The Goonies a movie instead of just a story, and asking ourselves one simple question:

Does The Goonies use its ‘movie magic’ well, or not?

Let’s take a look, starting with something that can seem kind of simple: cinematography.

The Goonies isn’t exactly an ‘arthouse’ film. By that, I mean that to the average movie-goer, there’s not much in artistic shots: the movie is focused on getting to the point. But that doesn’t mean it can’t look good while doing it.

Cinematography is a hugely important feature of film, one that is often overlooked. Audiences tend to underestimate the value that a camera, the ‘eyes’ into the film world, actually has: how the camera ‘looks’, and therefore allows us to look at a scene can be hugely impactful. Such is the case for The Goonies.

There are a few shots within The Goonies that everyone just remembers. The first time the kids lay eyes on the pirate ship, their final goal, is a hugely memorable moment, when the camera switches from the open-mouthed, awed expressions of the Goonies to the hugely impressive pirate ship, entirely built as a set for the film. Other shots, like the reveal of the bone-organ, or the first shot of Sloth from behind, his chained hands held up against the light, stick in people’s minds: or the simple but effective shot moving to focus on Mikey leaning over his porch railing.

These shots are certainly strong and memorable, but they also convey a lot of interesting information to the audience all at once, which is very important. In one split second, the viewers understand the magnitude of the discovery of One-Eyed Willy’s pirate ship, the terror of the dead body in the freezer, the miraculous recovery of the jewels to save the Goondocks, the relief of Mr. Walsh tearing up the contract and throwing it into the air.

These shots are designed to evoke emotions in their audience, giving us a perfect viewing point into the film’s world, allowing us to ride alongside these characters and experience what they’re experiencing: the fear, the joy, the laughter and the excitement, and the camerawork more than achieves its goal. The cinematography is effective without being showy, showing off when it needs to, and being simple and small when it fits the tone better.

A big portion of the film’s appearance is for sure in the cinematography, but honestly, there’s not much point to good camerawork if there’s nothing to shoot. Thankfully, the production design of The Goonies doesn’t disappoint.

Every setting in this film feels solid and lived in, from Mikey’s house to the beat-up old restaurant, to the caves, and, of course, the pirate ship. Richard Donner and Steven Spielberg (Director and producer of The Goonies, respectively) had, at this point, a bit of experience with the special effects department, and it shows in the film’s final look. Spielberg’s iconic Indiana Jones style sets and effects are echoed here in the cave sequences, with booby traps, skeletons, and the claustrophobic, dirty caverns convincing the audience effortlessly of their authenticity.

The entire film is a visual delight, with the production design clearly putting forth a lot of effort into making the movie look good, from the pirate ship to the prosthetics on John Matuszak to bring Sloth to life.

Despite the magnificent sets, there isn’t actually much in ‘visual effects’ in the film itself (especially once the octopus scene was cut), besides the prosthetic effects used for Sloth (very impressive in their own right). There are a few notable scenes: the floor dropping out from underneath Mouth (achieved by attaching a cable to Corey Feldman’s belt and collapsing the set floor underneath) being one of the more impressive of the various Rube Goldberg booby-trap setups throughout the entire film, and the cave collapsing prove to be a few of the most visually impressive effects in the entire film, furthering the story along and making it look believable.

There are other important visual things too: the costumes on the characters (Brand’s exercise wear, Data’s big, baggy trench coat with his inventions underneath, Mikey’s jean-jacket, Mouth’s Purple Rain t-shirt and Chunk’s Hawaiian shirt) all serve as legitimately distinct clues to tell kids apart in clumped together shots, but also works well as character building, coding in different outfits that match personalities, and even the props that kids have with them are hugely telling. These include Mikey’s inhaler, Mouth’s comb, and, of course, Data’s inventions, all elements that immediately tell the audience something about their personality without having to come out and say it in words.

In short, the visual storytelling of The Goonies is pretty darn competent.

But the visuals can only do so much.

The score of The Goonies (by Dave Grusin) works perfectly to form the backbone of every scene, from the merry tune that plays over Data’s inventions to the thrilling soundtrack that plays over the Fratellis’ escape at the beginning of the film. Every scene hits its mark thanks in no small part to the music in the background: reflecting character emotions and putting the audience right in with them, emphasizing huge moments like One-Eyed Willy’s pirate ship and playing up to smaller scenes, like the wishing well.

It also serves perfectly to underline what’s really important: the performances.

There’s more to a great movie production than sets, special effects and music. In the end, no matter how impressive, the production of a film doesn’t really amount to anything if the characters aren’t believable. The movie really rests on the shoulders of the performers: it’s on the actors to try to sell not only their surroundings and story, but the characters themselves, making an audience buy into the fact that they are real, and going through these experiences.

In The Goonies?

The entire cast steps up to the plate.

Sean Astin’s performance as Mikey is 100% wholehearted and earnest, genuine and inspiring. He is believable as the leader, and as a child with big dreams and big ideas, without being so wide-eyed as to be unrealistic, with a realistic way of talking that siblings around the world recognize. Jeff Cohen as Chunk is larger than life, over-the-top for every moment of screen time, constantly energetic in both terror and excitement, convincingly portraying a kid who’s scared out of his mind, but sticks it through for the sake of his friends. Ke Huy Quan easily persuades an audience of Data’s intelligence and charm, quirky behavior lining up with a ‘boy genius gadgeteer’ personality that is tempered with moments of irritation and frustration, as well as a gutsy streak that gets a little overshadowed by the antics of the others around him. Corey Feldman as Mouth is similarly believable as a snarky kid with too much attitude. Despite every character’s flaws, each actor manages to make each performance overall likeable and charming. Thankfully, this doesn’t stop with the kids.

Josh Brolin is believably exhausted and somewhere between childish and grown-up as Mikey’s older brother, Brand, pulling off an even mix that makes him believably grounded, but still able to be swept up in the adventure. Kerri Green as Andy isn’t given a lot to do, but she’s still entertaining and charming with the material given to her, much like Martha Plimpton as Stef, who delivers her snarky, sarcastic dialogue extremely well.

The heroes aren’t the only ones turning in great performances. Anne Ramsey is incredibly, and memorably, threatening as Mama Fratelli, and Robert Davi and Joe Pantoliano are entertainingly intimidating as Jake and Francis Fratelli, bickering amongst each other and getting smacked around with utmost believability, despite the ridiculousness of the situation. John Matuszak is wonderful underneath the prosthetics as Sloth, who, while never a villain, doesn’t officially become a hero until further into the film. Aside from these, the movie is full of little performances from other players, and everyone fills their part remarkably well.

Every character in The Goonies comes across exactly as they should: as characters in a kid’s adventure story. Each performance is perfectly suited to each character: not at all subtle, but energetic and entertaining. They are kids on a mission, with complete sincerity and consistency in their performances that help the audience to pretend that this is all real.

These performances are the cincher, the final step, the part that people remember and the element that solidifies this film as a family classic, continuing to entertain people over thirty years later.

In short? With people like Richard Donner and Steven Spieberg working behind the scenes, it’s not much of a surprise that The Goonies was an example of efficient filmmaking and visual storytelling. It’s a fast paced adventure story, a roller-coaster on film designed to take the audience along for the ride without asking any questions, and in that, it greatly succeeds.

The Goonies seemed destined for greatness from the moment it first released, with all of its ‘facets of filmmaking’ falling into place to create the perfect family adventure film, but, of course, that wasn’t an accident. Every movie is the result of a lot of hard work from a lot of different people, and The Goonies is no exception.

Thank you guys so much for reading! Join us next time where we’re going to be discussing the behind-the-scenes story of The Goonies in ‘Facets of Filmmaking’. I hope to see you there!

#The Goonies #The Goonies 1985 #1985 #80s #Film #Movies #PG #Adventure #Comedy #Family #Sean Astin #Josh Brolin #Jeff Cohen #Corey Feldman #Kerri Green #Martha Plimpton #Ke Huy Quan #Richard Donner

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chiarahq · 4 years ago

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me being late ? unfortunately more likely than u would think 😔 but i'm here now & so excited to be part of a celeb rp again because they are my kryptonite ! i’m sofi (21, gmt, she/her) & this is chiara, & yes i did carefully select this gif because she looks hot asf & i want to thirst trap u all into plotting with me (ur welcome) !

⋆˙⊹ naressa valdez , cis female , she/her — ‏‏‎ ‎ don't look now , but chiara flores just walked by us . the twenty - three year old lingerie model turned entrepreneur has been causing quite a stir lately . they're known to be quite decorous & garrulous , but also sybaritic & ambivalent . it's no wonder they're hollywoods resident bellwether . rumor has it they're hiding redacted , but don't ask them about it .

&. a satin brassiere peeking from beneath a velveteen pantsuit, dainty gold chains, wine - toned lipgloss & smoked liner, an inviting smile that would make a stranger feel at home, and the gentle graze of fingertips against the forearm .

𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬.

full name: chiara ysabel flores. nickname/s: chi, open to pet names. gender & pronouns: cis female & she/her. birthdate: sept 25th. zodiac: libra. orientation: bisexual & biromantic. traits: your stereotypical libra, aka, tactful, gregarious, & visionary, yet indecisive, vain, & vacillating. career: lingerie model turned fashion mogul; recently launched her own makeup and lingerie brand ( claim: fenty )

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬.

familial connections : chiara was a long awaited addition to the flores family; with maria flores thoroughly convinced that she would never experience the motherhood she had always dreamed of until she was finally blessed with her first & only child. rather naively, maria and andre expected that the birth of their daughter would be the missing piece to restoring their already crumbling marriage - however, if anything, the added stress of a baby was the nail in the coffin. that said, it was in their best interest to stick it out for the sake of their public reputation. a tiny chiara often found herself caught in the middle of an argument, and as she grew older, found herself stepping up as mediator. her presence was a constant reminder that although they no longer loved each other the way they once had, they had both contributed to create another human being that they equally adored with all their hearts - and they would continue to push themselves to last another day. the facade of their relationship finally came crashing down when chiara turned sixteen, and andre flores was caught having a cosy dinner with a woman much too young to be his wife. once the public found out there was no longer any need to keep up the pretences, and so the flores’ filed for divorce. although chiara was entirely aware of the state of their marriage, it was still difficult to endure - especially in such a public sense. that said, everything worked out for the best, and the flores’ still spend every holiday together as a family.

career ; from a young age, chiara shone. her cherubic features & polite nature opened multiple doors for her from a young age; from her successful modelling career to her stint in child acting. chiara pursued a lot of things, but she never stumbled upon anything that was more than a fad. that's the thing about chi; she's passionate & always on the go, but often lost interest fast. she’d pick something up, just to drop it the next day or week or month. it was a running joke within her family; her parents unable to keep up with what would capture chiara’s attention next. something that persevered was her relentless need to be in control. some would call it pernickety, though she would call it having direction. whatever she decided to put her mind to, for however long she felt like it, she would excel. with the safety of her parents’ wealth to fall back on, chiara tried her hand at pretty much everything you could imagine - she dabbled in photography, took a few singing classes before she ultimately decided she was tone-deaf, rekindled her acting career for the duration of a handful of auditions, and even attended college for a whopping seven weeks before dropping out. her career in modelling was the only thing that was a constant, with her signing with tbd lingerie company ( bc we don’t stan vs in this house ). chiara was happy enough during her time there, but the lack of diversity within the brand became outstandingly obvious ( 👀 ), & eventually she decided to take matters into her own hands ; launching her own inclusive lingerie brand, ysabel. following the success of ysabel, she then extended her brand to include makeup products.

personality ;

yes we’re switching to bullet points who needs consistency

chiara is a bit of a walking oxymoron. she’s an incredibly passionate & determined individual, yet her attention & interest are fleeting. when she cares, she cares with every inch of her being - but the minute that drive is gone ? she’ll ditch.

despite mediating pretty much her parents’ entire relationship, chi hates confrontation. she radiates Bad Bitch energy, but really is prone to sitting on the fence & ducking out when shit hits the fan.

chi is ridiculously self-indulgent. she cannot say no to herself, like, ever. it’s a dangerous habit that extends beyond herself - if she sees something she thinks a friend will like, it’s in her basket without a second thought, aka she’s the best present giver ever. as a result of her indulgence, however, she can sometimes come across as kinda ignorant :/

relationships are kind of an iffy area for chi... she knows all too well how badly they can go spiralling down, so she tries not to let herself get too attached, but for the most part she fails & becomes kinda ... infatuated. she’s terrible with rejection due to her obsession with how people view her, & will without a doubt take it to heart - so for the most part sticks to flings & meaningless flirtationships

has a pet doberman that she absolutely adores & treats as if its a little baby handbag dog <3

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

brotp

sibling like friendship

ride or die

childhood friends

family friends

platonic soulmates

model friends / models recruited for her brand

unlikely friendship

intrigue

project partners

familial connections ? maybe a cousin ?

mutual friends

childhood crush ? maybe a friend of the family where their parents always joked they’d get together one day

party friends

good / bad influence

opposites attract

exes to friends

muse

wingman/woman/person

pr stunt

exes ( good terms, bad terms, past fling, ghosted )

will-they-won’t-they

fwb / ewb

confidants

rival

#fame.intro #we did it baby !#i hope the formatting isnt too ugly

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thebadchoicemachine · 4 years ago

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PROMPT: I turned around to get some jam as my toast was ready, only to find when I turned back it was gone. I live alone and don’t have pets. @everblue22

[Recording Begins]

So, I just start talking into this thing? Okay. Oh! I see it writing everything down here, that is... HEY! Awesome! It even knows WHEN to capitalize! PORCUPINE! Okay, okay, I’m done messing around. What? I just think it’s neat! Uh... okay, here it goes. Huh, where do I even start? I guess just with whatever I want?

Well, I want to say I could tell you I found my fridge, but I can’t. It’s gone. I don’t know where and I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna tell Jan. Maybe I should just not tell him. No, I have to, he’s gonna find out sooner or later. Why though? He checks in every now and then of course but why should I even care? Am I scared or something? I think so.

Yes.

Jan the... leviathan, Jan fear lord, Jan the landlord. Jan, my landlord. He owns my house. (I have a house, right? I must... where else would I keep my fridge that I don’t have? Or... is it an apartment?) Anyway, Jan in charge of my home where my fridge has disappeared, possibly down some... some semi-indescribable thing. Something that my landlord with definitely notice. Ugh, that’s a conversation I am not looking forward to. I’m not sure how mad he’s going to be able to be, though.

I mean, yeah, the fridge is gone and there’s The Trench pit-stairs-thing there now, but none of that is my fault! I’m usually a very good tenant; I’ve always paid my rent on time, I never have parties, everything is entirely as intact as when I first moved in, sometimes more so! Well, except for the fridge that is...

I’m sorry, you probably don’t understand this. Let me start over. I’m a- I’m a... hmm, I- you know, I can’t remember. I had a... job at some point, didn’t I? Yes. I never got fired or anything, I would remember something like that. Probably. Anyway, I have a job where I usually am when I’m not home.

I’m not quite sure what I did but we had ridiculously short lunch breaks. That combined with the fact everything nearby was expensive as balls meant I ended up skipping lunch a lot. I also had to be there early so forgot about breakfast most days too. By the time dinner came around I was too exhausted to cook anything big, plus groceries were expensive, so I’d just microwave a tin, force down a few bites, and go to bed. Some days I don’t think I stepped foot in the kitchen at all. Yeah... turns out those are all really bad habits to be in, especially at once.

It kind of clicked one day while I was driving to work and feeling miserable that it is not normal to feel that way all the time. I thought down a checklist of reasons I might feel like crap (water, sleep, breathing, etc.) and nearly crashed when I got to food. I had a quiet “oh” moment realizing I hadn’t eaten that day. I also couldn’t remember if I’d eaten yesterday or the day before that. I knew I had eaten, just not when or how often or how much. Yeah. That was pretty crap.

That night I sat down and decided I wanted to exist again and to do that I had to start eating again, regularly. I at least needed to get something in my body every day. Breakfast was still hard and dinner still felt complicated so I settled for focusing on lunch, starting small and all that. That way was I was trapped, at home I could just do something else but at work? There was nothing to do but work or eat and I was hoping the time limit would help me force down some food even if I didn’t feel like eating.

I- oh damn, I’ve been rambling this whole time, haven’t I? I’ll skip to the important part, I made a lot of sandwiches. I’ve never cared for peanut butter, I didn’t hate it but I wouldn’t be able to eat it so continuously. In fact, I couldn’t stomach many things over and over again for too long. Stimulation is very important to me, I need routine but can’t stand stagnation. (That’s probably another reason I was so miserable.) Because of this, I opted to get an array of spreads and switch between toasted and plain slices of bread. t worked out pretty well, after a while wasn’t even an inconvenience to make and eat food at home.

Now, here’s where my troubles really started. One day, I didn’t have work, I was making some toast. I think it was breakfast which was rare for me but again I didn’t have work. I had set the bread in the toaster and turned to pick out a jam from my fridge (which at this point was still there) but when I turned around the toaster was empty! I know I heard the sound of it popping up but there was no toast, there wasn’t even bread.

I feel a little silly to admit this but I actually checked around to make sure the toast hadn’t been flung out of the toaster. Then I searched my whole home for some kind of animal. I don’t have any pets but the idea of one breaking in seemed a semi-plausible explanation. In some ways I guess I was right on the money.

Obviously, I was perplexed by this disappearing act but I shrugged it off and made some more toast. I stayed watching the toaster the whole time and everything worked normally. That is until I turned to get the jam and found it wasn’t there. Expect, then it was. I know that makes no sense but that’s simply what happened. I just ate my toast with butter at that point. A few days later the same thing happened again, beat for beat, only this time the disappearing never stopped. My bread would keep disappearing if I turned my back on it even for a split second, at least, that’s what I thought.

At some point, I realized it had nothing to do with me watching. Bread would disappear right before my eyes and never come back unless I had a thing of jam out. If I had jam out then the jam would disappear for a moment and repaper. I got in the habit of leaving out a certain jar whenever I cooked. At first, that was it. That’s probably all it would have been, just another odd habit to add to my routine, if it weren’t for the fact I noticed the jar was beginning to empty. I could have just let it be, written it off as me forgetting I used it, and moved on, except it was grape. I despise grape flavored things, the only reason I had that one was it came in a pack with the rest of the flavors. I had not and would never use the grape jam.

That was too weird for me. I became curious. I don’t know how I jumped to the conclusion something was eating the jam, the disappearing could have been a million other things, but that’s what I immediately assumed. Since it didn’t matter if I was watching or not I decided a camera wouldn’t affect too much and set up my phone to record it. If it failed, I would have a video of me making toast. If it succeed... well, I’m here, aren’t I?

I went through the process just fine, setting out the now half-empty decoy jam right in view of the camera. It happened like normal, normal as it was for me anyway. The jam disappeared for a second then returned right where it was. I calmly ate my snack, not wanting to do anything hastily lest I became suspicious, before casually reaching out to check my phone. The video was not as helpful as I liked. Even slowing it down and running it through some filters I couldn’t notice too much except for some faint, invisible, shape only there for a split second. That sounds impressive but already knew something was stealing my jam, I wanted to know what.

The rest happened almost entirely by accident. I got up in the middle of the night, barely remember it, just stumbled to the kitchen for water. It took me a few minutes to notice I was hearing something and not dreaming. It was a soft, tinkly, pattering sound. Like a dog’s paws scrambling across a floor made of glass. Still half-dreaming, I opened up my phone to fumble for a flashlight. This, of course, blinded me as looking at your phone when used to the dark is never a good idea and I had mine on full brightness for some forsaken reason. I yelped, grabbing my eyes. The sound stopped.

I opened my eyes, blinking away blind spots, or trying. Some just wouldn’t leave. It took me far too long to realize that they weren’t blind spots, they were creatures right in front of my face. I wish I could blame it on sleep but honestly, I think I’m just stupid.

Anyway, these things were borderline indescribable at first but as my eyes readjusted to the dark I could understand them quite clearly, visually, anyway. They had bodies like... well, you know when you stare at the sun too long and you get that dark/light green-ish/blue-ish blob in your vision? They had bodies like an inverted form of that. Their forms were inside a bubble, as in a soapy blowing bubble sheen wrapped around their serpentine bodies. They sat hunched on their back legs. they’d clearly been scrabbling against the door of the fridge with their little paws but now sat frozen, staring at me with dopey faces.

I, for some reason, did not freeze in return. Instead, I just stared at them, holding out my hand like I was giving treats. Two of them cowered while one tilted its head. Its head shape was odd, when I saw it from the side it appeared to have a snout but when it looked directly at me it just seemed perfectly round. It had what I could only assume was two reflective oblong eyes in the center of its face. They were the color of a blank tv screen and remained exactly where they were like a Hawk’s head in flight. The only reason I could tell its head was tilted at all was two (Three? One?) smoky wisps flowing down its top. We stared at each other for a moment until I tried to gently take a step forward and all three dived under my fridge.

I was shocked, of course, but not for the reasons you’d think. More because they left than because they were there. I handled the situation fantastically all things considered but I wanted more. I couldn’t just them go like that! So, I did the only thing I could think of. I made some toast and jam.

It didn’t work.

I felt defeated, dejected, and sad. Mournful, even. I couldn’t help but feel like I’d missed something incredible. This is the part that was really on accident, I began tapping the glass jam jar. The tinkling little noise was the only sound throughout the entire bitch black of the night. I don’t know how long I sat tapping, maybe a few minutes, maybe an hour, but at some point, I noticed there was an echo. Then, of course, I realized it wasn’t an echo at all! It was the glass sounds the creatures made. I whipped around and saw- well, to be perfectly honest I saw nothing. Not at first.

Then, under the fridge, I noticed some darkness was... different. It was flatter, shinier, there were two oblong blanks in the shade under the fridge. Eyes. My heart leaped and I desperately kept tapping the jar, holding it out for the creature to see. I assume it worked as in a millisecond the jar was gone from my hand and on the floor, opened, then closed again. I opened the fridge and got out all the jam jars I had, lining them around the fridge like some kind of summoning circle. It took hours, maybe even minutes, for them to come out again. They were just as fast as always, I didn’t see them and I barely saw the jars move.

Now, I know this is going to sound stupid. It probably was a stupid idea but I was getting desperate, this whole thing was beginning to dishearten me. I raked over everything that had happened trying to figure out what let me see them and... listen, I did the only thing that made sense, at least at the time. I flashed my phone’s flashlight into my eyes a couple of times. It’s not that bad, okay! Stupid? Maybe, but it worked! I saw them!

Oh, they were beautiful. There was more of them this time, completely crowding the space around my fridge. I could see them so clearly. I noticed they had six limbs, rabbit-like hind legs with two sets of arms. The way they used them to open the jars reminded me of a raccoon. The wisps on their heads were like antenna, varying from four to two on each one’s head and flowing down past their bodies like tails. The size seemed to vary drastically based on each one. Their bodies’ still impossible and gorgeous.

They paid me no mind, swiftly swiping snack after snack from the jars lighting fast. I feel like the night should have been well over by this point but it was still dark and quiet. I couldn’t even hear the wind outside, although, it’s not like I was trying. My focus was on these creatures. These beings with their gorgeous bodies and musical tinkling calls... I couldn’t look away. Soon, looking wasn’t enough.

I wasn’t so enthralled as to try and touch one, not yet. No, I only grabbed a jar and opened it, holding it in my hand. It took a moment but it worked. One of the little guys came up to eat out of it. As it got close my senses, except sight, went all fizzy. Yes, I mean fizzy and not fuzzy. It wasn’t dull, quite the opposite, like eating pop rocks. I felt like I’d just been submerged in and inhaled some physical form of static. You’d think that would be unpleasant and let me tell you it was... wasn’t. No, of course not. I- I didn’t dislike it. I didn’t dislike a single moment of it. It- it was- it was all so... euphoric. All of it...

All of it.

Um, what- oh! Oh yes, the fridge. Well... I- I’m not sure I can tell you what happened. One minute I was having the time of my life laughing, petting, and playing with all of my radiant little friends... oh, they’re just lovely. I haven’t named any of them yet because I can’t really tell them apart and I’m pretty sure they change form. Ugh, I just love them so much. Yes, I do! Yes, I do, my dizzy little...

What? Hello? What was I... oh yeah, the fridge. So, I love these guys. So... just SO damn much. Am I tearing up? Ha! A funny thing about these guys is that static thing I was talking about earlier. Yeah. It’s constant but it usually very faint unless they’re right up close, then it just absolutely drowns you. I was hugging and petting them so I was completely lost in the static. It was fantastic but I don’t really remember much. I don’t even know how long I was there just that I was suddenly cut off. An- um... a car had driven by. I- I think that’s what happened at least, I don’t know. Something must have happened because suddenly they all dove back beneath the fridge.

Oh, I can’t describe the emptiness I was left with. It was so dreadful it- I... oh, I can’t. I can’t. I was desperate. It was only for a moment but I was so desperate, I- I lost my mind! I must’ve! I don’t know how what happened next could have happened. I ripped my refrigerator off the wall. I’ve heard of people getting super strength in life-or-death situations for loved ones, maybe it was something like that. Whatever the reason I had the whole refrigerator tossed clean to the other side of the room. What did I even have to show for it? Nothing. It was just a dusty area where the wall met the floor and some outlet things were placed.

I couldn’t stand for it. I know the precocious little beings had come from and gone somewhere. I was going to find it. I needed to find it. I reached out my hand so hard and fast I’m certain I would’ve snapped my wrist if the floor hadn’t given way. No, that’s not quite it. It didn’t “give way” it-

Whoah! This thing can do those “line things?” That’s “dope.” How can “it” even tell- wait, no, I’m not going to get off track again. The floor didn’t break or crumble into a trench that was beneath it, nor did I punch a giant hole into the floor. I do not believe it even existed before I touched it but I also don’t believe I created it at all.

I fell... ugh, how do I put this... I fell into it and out of it simultaneously. I can’t be any more clear than that, sorry. I was falling (Phasing?) down and up at the same time and then I landed on my kitchen floor. I- oh, yes, I know I said the fridge wasn’t my fault. It’s not. I have no idea where it is. If I did I could just put it back- well, I guess not because there’s the giant trench where it plugs in now, but I could have someone else do it! Actually... maybe it fell in somehow? I don’t know. I really don’t...

About the pit itself, it’s really more like a ravine. I couldn’t see the bottom but not because it was dark, because of the opposite! It has this soft yellow glow at its bottom, or as far down as I could see anyway. The sides look like rocks, some gradient of turquoise and bismuth. It’s pretty thin, only about a meter across, but stretches out for an unreasonable length into the wall. I don’t know how, it looks like one of those optical illusions people paint onto the sides of buildings that make it seem like there’s a tunnel even though you can clearly see it’s a wall. It wasn’t an illusion though, oh no. I threw several things against my wall, or what used to be my wall, and they flew right past where it should have hit and down into the trench. Lost a lot of spoons... When I walked around to my bedroom (the room on the other side of the wall) there was nothing. It was completely normal, you’d never think there was some hole with impossible dimensions cutting through on the other side.

Well... that’s all I have to say I guess. After a while, the sun came up and I marched over to the first place that looked like it could help. You... you can help, yes? I really don’t want to deal with Jan. Ugh, I’m gonna have to call him, aren’t I? Oh, I hate having to deal with bull like this. So you can... close... no no no, I don’t want you to CLOSE the hole. That’s where- it’s so nice and pretty. I just want... wait, why DID I come here? I don’t... no. NO. I do NOT want you to undo anything that has happened! I don’t care what I said when I came in here, nothing needs to change. I won’t let anything change.

What’s what? What do you mean? Oh, I’m just getting out some jam. Yeah, I took all the jam with me. Well, all the ones that didn’t fall in anyway. Yes, I’m absolutely certain. You cannot quote-unquote “fix” anything. You know what? I won’t even let you onto my home. You’re too insistent. That pit... I- I don’t much about it but I know it’s where the creatures came from and I one hundred percent can’t risk losing my little friends here. Yes, here. Right here. Of course, they’re here! You just can’t see them. I can’t either, not right now at least. Oh, it’s no big deal, they just follow me everywhere. Calm down. Not much I could do about it and if I could why would I even want to? You have my statement, I’ll be on my way now.

I said... I’ll be... on my way...

No. You can’t touch them, they don’t like you. No. NO! Get away from them! I WON’T LET Y-

[Recording End]

---

[Recording Begins]

Follow up:

All digital follow up has been redacted.

The reason is listed as confidential, however, that is only a routine precaution. There will be no reprimand for any violations. It is not recommended you try, though.

Anyone who has attempted to review digital information about this case has reported suffering migraines and difficulty recalling the information to the point of uselessness. Several attempts were made to make physical copies but the pages printed out incomplete or blank. Attempts at writing it by hand proved to have even more disastrous strain on the mind. With no idea how to prevent this, or how dangerous it could become, we were forced to simply stop the work.

As for evidence that IS accessible, besides this recording, we have a few polaroids of the so called “Trench” as well as the attempts to un-digitalize the information. Within all attempts any personal information is absent. We have no name, no age, no phone number, no address, nothing. We DID manage to track down this “Jan” that was spoken of.

Jan Preswer is indeed a landlord but had no information we weren’t already able to salvage from the records. In fact, he didn’t have a lot of information in general. He was rather standoffish on the matter in a way we later realized stemmed from fear. When we pressed he eventually relented and gave us access to an apartment he claimed was “dangerous to think about” which is where we were able to take the pictures. There was nothing in the place that could identify the speaker. There was nothing there at all, not even interior walls, except the hole. It was exactly as described except smaller, only about a fourth a meter wide. When we returned the next day it was completely gone.

Because we have no real way to continue investing and because the issue seems to have resolved itself we are placing this entire case on hold. All we can do is wait and watch. I, personally, recommend keeping a close eye on the amount of stolen jam and bread.

Wherever this person went they seem to have taken all of the creatures with them. We have had no reports or sightings of any kind despite the panic from having them in the buidling.

They honestly didn’t seem so bad... the creatures, I mean. The way they were described they sounded... docile. Curious. Friendly, even. Granted, this is clearly not what anyone would call a “reliable source” but they must be coming from somewhere and this IS one of our most tame cases, possibly ever. They must be interesting to observe, at the very least. I wish I was able to see one of them if only to understand for a moment.

Maybe I should start setting out some jam, haha.

That... was a joke. Record it here, that was a joke. Don’t try that. It would be incredibly irresponsible to attempt to recreate a situation described in a statement no matter the possible discoveries, personal feelings, or… general lure… of the...

What… what was I doing? Uh… yeah this- this case is closed unless something else comes up. That’s not how I’m supposed to sign these things off but I’m… can’t… huh.

You know, I’m really hungry. That’s probably it. Goodness, I can’t remember that last time I ate. Gonna go get some… toast or something…

[Recording End]

#woah those are words I wrote #writing practice #writing prompt

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therefractory · 4 years ago

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The clown king: how Boris Johnson made it by playing the fool | Boris Johnson | The Guardian The Guardian · by Edward Docx The long-running German satirical show Extra 3 recently featured a sketch with the following voiceover: “From the people who brought you The Crown – the epic saga of the Queen – now comes the ridiculous story of this guy, a notorious buffoon at the head of a country … The Clown.” The word “clown” has often been used in a flippant or dismissive way with regard to Boris Johnson. But the underlying paradox is that it is only as a clown – a fool in the oldest and deepest sense of the word – that his character can truly be understood. What happens when you make the clown king is what we in the UK have been witnessing in real time. With the success of the vaccine, though, a new question emerges: can one archetype transform into the other? Can Johnson creep away from his clownish past altogether? Clowns, of course, are very serious and important people. At their simplest, they remind us of the silliness of things: that the world we have created is ridiculous. They reassure us in this observation by appealing to our innate understanding of the absurd. They relieve the endless tension and trauma of reality. At a deeper level, the clown is the mirror image of the priest. Both represent two ancient sides of our nature. Both elucidate what it means to be human. The priest summons, celebrates and interrogates the sacred; the clown does the same with the profane. The one is concerned with the eschatological, the other with the scatological. The priest propounds abstinence and fasting; the clown gluttony and indulgence. The one solemnifies sex, the other carnalises. As David Bridel, founder of the Clown School in Los Angeles, says, clowns are often roundly welcomed because they “remind us that we are as practised in falling over, shitting and humping, as we are in prayer and purification”. Would-be biographers of Johnson might do worse than to read Paul Bouissac, the leading scholar on the semiotics of clowning. Clowns are “transgressors”, he writes, cultural subversives who enact rituals and dramatic tableaux that “ignore the tacit rules of social games to indulge in symbolic actions that … toy with these norms as if they were arbitrary, dispensable convention.” Clowns “undermine the ground upon which our language and our society rest by revealing their fragility”. They “foreground the tension” between “instinct” and “constraint”. Bouissac could be writing directly of Johnson when he adds: “Their performing identities transcend the rules of propriety.” They are, he says, “improper by essence”. Observe classic Johnson closely as he arrives at an event. See how his entire being and bearing is bent towards satire, subversion, mockery. The hair is his clown’s disguise. Just as the makeup and the red nose bestow upon the circus clown a form of anonymity and thus freedom to overturn conventions, so Johnson’s candy-floss mop announces his licence. His clothes are often baggy – ill-fitting; a reminder of the clothes of the clown. He walks towards us quizzically, as if to mock the affected “power walking” of other leaders. Absurdity seems to be wrestling with solemnity in every expression and limb. Notice how he sometimes feigns to lose his way as if to suggest the ridiculousness of the event, the ridiculousness of his presence there, the ridiculousness of any human being going in any direction at all. His weight, meanwhile, invites us to consider that the trouble with the world (if only we’d admit it) is that it’s really all about appetite and greed. (His convoluted affairs and uncountable children whisper the same about sex.) Before he says a word, he has transmitted his core message – that the human conventions of styling hair, fitting clothes and curbing desires are all … ludicrous. And we are encouraged – laughingly – to agree. And, of course, we do. Because, in a sense, they are ludicrous. He goes further, though – pushing the clown’s confetti-stuffed envelope: isn’t pretending you don’t want to eat great trolleys of cake and squire an endless carousel of medieval barmaids … dishonest? Oh, come on, it’s so tiresome trying to be slim, groomed or monogamous – when what you really want is more cake and more sex. Right? I know it. You know it. We all know it. Why lie? Forget the subject under discussion – Europe, social care, Ireland – am I not telling it like it is, deep down? Am I not the most honest politician you’ve ever come across? Herein the clown’s perverse appeal to reason. Next, witness how, in the company of a journalist, Johnson’s whole demeanour transmits the sense of him saying: “Aha! An interview! How absurd! This is no way to find anything out! But, yes, if you want, I will play ‘prime minister’ and you can reprise my old role – if that’s what the audience is here for.” Notice how often he asks (knowingly) “Are you sure our viewers wouldn’t want to hear … ?” or “You really want to know this?” This is because the clown is always in a deeper relationship with the audience than with his ostensible subject. See how he rocks on his feet as if to lampoon a politician emphasising his words. Hear how his speech is not – in truth – eloquent, but rather a caricature of eloquence. The dominant mode is not fluency, but a kind of stop-start oratio interruptus; hesitancy followed by sudden spasms of effusion. The hesitancy is designed to involve us in the confected drama of his choosing the next word. The sudden effusion that follows can then be marketed as clinching evidence of his oratorical elan. You do not have to be a dramatist to recognise the clown archetype immediately. Johnson’s impulsiveness. The self-summoned crises. His attitude to truth, to authority, to every construct of law and art and politics, to power and to pleasure. His personal relationships and his relationship to the public. The self-conscious ungainliness. His blithe conjuring of fantasy and fairytale. The way he toys with norms – inverts, switches, tricks, reverses. The collusive warmth oddly symbiotic with a distancing coldness. Anything for a laugh. Everything preposterous. All of it richly articulate of the antic spirit that animates his being. Indeed, Johnson is an apex-clown – capable of the most sophisticated existential mockery while simultaneously maintaining the low moment-by-moment physical comedy of the buffoon. Recall general election Johnson of 2019. Think of the famous moment where he drove a JCB through a polystyrene wall on which was written the word “Gridlock”. His union jack-painted digger burst through the polystyrene with the legend “Get Brexit Done” written on its loader. His subsequent speech even mentioned custard: “I think it is time,” he said, smirking, “for the whole country – symbolically – to get in the cab of a JCB – of a custard colossus – and remove the current blockage that we have in our parliamentary system.” This scene must surely be as close to the actual circus as politics in the UK has ever come. Boris Johnson at the JCB headquarters in Uttoxeter, Staffordshire, December 2019. Photograph: Ben Stansall/AFP/Getty Images Consider what is actually going on here. The wall is a wall that he helped create. Now he wants everyone to join him demolishing it. And he’s the man to lead the charge. Why? Because he’s the only one who can smash through the nonsense that is … the wall. Yet, he built the wall. Most of this nonsense is his doing – figuratively, literally, in the studio, in the country. And why are the hazard lights on? Because, of course, this is an emergency, for the clown must forever be concocting drama. An emergency that he has conjured and staged – to place himself in the cab of the rescue vehicle. Which is not a rescue vehicle. But a JCB. (Paradox inside paradox; is he destroying or rescuing?) A JCB painted as a union jack. Why? To celebrate the flag? Not quite. To mock it, then? Also, not quite. But in order to toy with it – to clown with it – to move back and forth across the borders of the serious and the comic. “Time for the whole country,” he says, “symbolically – to get in the cab of the JCB.” Symbolically? Was ever a word deployed with so many layers of foolery? What – we thought he might mean we all get in the JCB? Of course, we didn’t. So who is he mocking with that word? He’s mocking everything – the stunt, us, himself – even in the moment of performance, he mocks his own performance. We cannot take him seriously and yet we must take him seriously. And note how that word “symbolically” steps up from the backstage of Johnson’s consciousness when talking of Brexit – which, as he well knows, is an act of symbolism at the expense of everything else. The JCBs, the polystyrene walls, the stuck-on-a-zipwire-with-two-mini-union-jacks, the hiding in fridges, the waving of fish, the thumbs up, the pants down, this is the realm of the mock heroic – to which Johnson returns again and again. This is where he’s most at home. This is where he’s world-king. And he urges us to join him there. Nudges our elbows. Offers us a drink. Beckons us in. Smirks. Winks. Johnson’s novel Seventy-Two Virgins is one long tour of the territory. The book is beyond merely bad and into some hitherto unvisited hinterland of anti-art. More or less everything about it is ersatz. Commentators who fall for his self-conjured comparisons to Waugh and Wodehouse miss the point entirely and do both writers an oafish ill-service. Because here again: Johnson is not seriously interested in writing novels at all. It’s not that he’s a fraud. Rather, as ever, he is a jester-dilettante peddling parody and pastiche. In truth, the attentive reader is not invited to take anything seriously about the novel – not its title; not its handling of character, dialogue, plot or point of view; not its dramatic construction, nor its stylistic impersonations. And certainly not its thematic dabbling. In fact, for more than 300 ingenious pages, Johnson manages to commit to nothing in the art of writing a novel so much as the attempt to be entertaining in the act of mocking a commitment to the art of writing of a novel. There is no heroic; it’s all mock. “To a man like Roger Barlow,” Johnson writes of his clownishly named hero in the book, “the whole world just seemed to be a complicated joke … everything was always up for grabs, capable of dispute; and religion, laws, principle, custom – these were nothing but sticks from the wayside to support our faltering steps.” Clowns have been with us through history. They turn up in Greek drama as sklêro-paiktês – childlike figures. During the Roman festival of Saturnalia, a clown-king was chosen and all commerce was suspended in favour of a wild cavort. (“Fuck business.”) In Norse mythology, the archetype is the figure of Loki – silver-tongued trickster and shape-shifter who turns himself into horse, seal, fly, and fish. (Note the echo of the reference by a close ally of Joe Biden to Johnson as a “shape-shifting creep”.) In the Italian commedia dell’arte, there is the character of Pierrot. There is Badin in France, Bobo in Spain, Hanswurst in Germany. And here in Britain: Shakespeare’s many famous fools. We need our clever fools, of course. Too much solemnity is sickly. We need the carnival. We need reminders of our absurdity. The culture should be subverted. The sacred should be disparaged. Institutions should be derided when they become sclerotic. We live in an age of posturing and zealotry and never needed our satirists and our clowns more. But the transgressor is licensed precisely because they are not in power. The satirist ridicules the government – fairly, unfairly – and we smile because (ordinarily) they are not in charge of the hospitals, the schools, our livelihoods or the borders. We laugh and clap at the circus, the theatre and the cinema because we can go home at the end of the evening, confident that the performers are not in charge of the reality in which we must live. Boris Johnson stuck on a zipline in Victoria Park, London, August 2012. Photograph: Getty Images Previously, of course, this was Johnson’s relationship to power. He was the clown-journalist tilting idly at straight bananas, Tony Blair, political correctness gone mad. When he was made mayor of London, he was in effect elevated to quasi-official court jester. There he was stranded on the zipwire (the buffoon parodies the circus trapeze act) but real power still remained elsewhere. Even during the referendum campaign, David Cameron and George Osborne were the government … whereas Johnson was continuing to perform the role of fool – holding up a kipper here, draped in sausages there, arriving in town squares with his red circus bus and a farrago of misdirection and fallacy. He was stoutly devoid of any real idea or concern for what might replace the structures he disparaged. His humour, his glee, his energy, his campaigning brilliance – it delighted and sparkled because he was free of responsibility, free to be himself, free to throw the biggest custard pies yet dreamed of in the UK. Vanishingly few people had any serious idea of what was involved in leaving the EU; and resoundingly not Johnson. But those who simply wanted to leave because their gut instinct told them it was right to do so would have failed and failed miserably without him. These men and women – the likes of Iain Duncan Smith, David Davis, Steve Baker, Nigel Farage, Mark Francois, John Redwood, Gisela Stuart, Kate Hoey et al – were never more than a dim congregation of rude mechanicals. And what they required to win was someone who instinctively understood how to conduct a form of protracted public masque. Someone who could distract, charm, rouse and delight with mischief and inversion and a thousand airy nothings. (The clown was ever the perfect ambassador of meaninglessness.) But even Puck sends the audience home with an apology and the reassurance that all we have witnessed was but a dream. We, however, have made our clown a real-world king. And from that moment on, we became a country in which there was only the mock heroic – a “world beating” country that would “strain every sinew” and give “cast-iron guarantees” while bungling its plans and breaking its promises. A country ��ready to take off its Clark Kent spectacles” and act “as the supercharged champion” of X, Y, Z. A country on stilts – pretending that we had a test and trace system that was head and shoulders above the rest of the world. A country performing U-turns on the teetering unicycle of Johnsonian buffoonery – A-levels, school meals, foreign health workers and more. A country of tumbling catastrophes. Trampolining absurdities. Go to work. Don’t go to work. A country proroguing parliament illegally here, trying to break international law there. Paying its citizens to “eat out to help out” in the midst of a lethal pandemic. A country testing its eyesight in lockdown by driving to distant castles with infant and spouse during a travel ban. A country whose leadership stitched up the NHS in the morning and then clapped for them at night. A country opening schools for a single day, threatening to sue schools, shutting schools. A country on holiday during its own emergency meetings. A country locking down too late; opening up too early. A country sending its elderly to die in care homes. A country unwilling to feed its own children. A country spaffing £37bn up the wall one moment and refusing to pay its own nurses a decent salary the next. A country doing pretend magic tricks with the existence of its own borders – no, there won’t be a border in the sea; oh yes there will; oh no there won’t; it’s behind you …. A country of gimmicks and slapstick and hollow, honking horns. This is Eastcheap Britain and Falstaff is in charge. It is in the two Henry IV plays that Shakespeare most clearly illuminates the gulf between his great, theatre-filling clown, Falstaff, and the young Prince Hal who will go on to become the archetype of the king – Henry V. At the mock-court of Falstaff’s tavern, we are invited to laugh and drink more ale, pinch barmaid’s bottoms, dance with dead cats and put bedpans on our heads while Falstaff entertains us with stories of his bravery and heroism that we all know are flagrant lies. Says Prince Hal to the portly purveyor of falsehoods: “These lies are like their father that begets them, gross as a mountain, open, palpable.” Meanwhile, the realm falls apart. Since we have no Hal and have crowned the clown instead, the play we are now watching in the UK asks an ever more pressing question: can Falstaff become Henry V and lead his country with true seriousness and purpose? Or is the vaccine-cloaked transformation now being enacted merely superficial – a shifting of the scenery? The lies themselves are the problem. The kingly archetype embodies at least the ambition of sincerity, meaning and good purpose at the heart of the state. Whereas deceit continues to be the default setting on Johnson’s hard drive. Rory Stewart calls Johnson “the best liar ever to serve as prime minister” but writes that “what makes him unusual in a politician is that his dishonesty has no clear political intent”. But Stewart does not quite see that Johnson is the purest form of clown there is – “improper by essence” – and that truth and lies are like two sides of the argument to him: equally tedious, equally interesting, equally absurd, both a distant second in their service of tricks, drama, distraction, invention, manipulation. He will write you two columns, four, 10, 100 – pro-Marmite, anti-Marmite; pro-EU, anti-EU. And then he’ll tell you all about them. All about how he couldn’t decide. Because not deciding is where all the drama is to be found and who cares about the arguments anyway? No, what the trickster wants is neither your agreement nor your disagreement. (For he himself agrees and disagrees.) What the trickster wants most of all … is for you to admire his trickery. Heinrich Böll, the German Nobel-prize winner and author of the truly great novel The Clown, answers Stewart’s question when he says: “You go too far in order to know how far you can go.”

The clown king: how Boris Johnson made it by playing the fool | Boris Johnson | The Guardian

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