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THEY'RE REAL
#bat oc#rat oc#goopy horror#is that fakeroni ashfordini!?!?!#local TV host was never heard from again#like and subscribe for more content
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More Than Friends: part 1
I never understood why they asked. Why every time I was around her, the question "Are you two dating?" would pop up. No, I'd reply. We're just friends. And we are, just friends that is. But that doesn't stop the butterflies when she looks at me with a certain expression. It doesn't stops the butterflies when she entwines our fingers at a party. And it certainly doesn't stop the butterflies when we're alone in her room, her arms around me and her head on my chest. The butterflies don't stop, I've tried.
I was twenty seven when we met. She was twenty six. I was working a full time job as a social media executive in the city, for a start up company selling vintage clothing. You see, I'm what you would call a creative. I love to make things. Photography, videography, graphics, that kind of thing. I used to be a painter as a kid, but I grew out of that when I discovered technology. And that's my passion, making visual things that others can enjoy. I write scripts too, though the majority of them need filing under BIN. Anyway, i'm going on a tangent. I was testing out my new camera, a Canon EOS 750D DSLR, in the reception of the local TV studio when a girl stopped me to ask for directions to the closest cafe with good coffee.
'Walk out of the car park, turn right at the exit, follow the street until you reach the library and it's next door. If you reach Tesco, you've gone too far', I say.
She thanks me, and heads on her way. I never think another second of it, this happens often.
Two nights later, it's a Friday night and I'm heading to a party being hosted by a girl I've spoken all but two words to, but she's a friend of the girl I'm dating so I agree to attend. We arrive around 9pm and I'm dragged straight into the garden where I see a group of around 8 girls sat in a circle on the grass. Nicole, the girl I'm seeing, says her hello's and introduces me to her friends.
'This is Sheree' she says to everyone, 'The girl I was telling you about'.
I smirk at that. A huge, shit eating grin actually and she notices, rolling her eyes at me. She asks if I'd like a drink, to which I say yes, but I'll get them, and she points me in the direction of the kitchen. I leave her with her friends and head in the direction she gave, finding myself in an american styled kitchen area. Bottles everywhere. It was like a scene from Skins. I grab two bottles of Budweiser, and search for a bottle opener. 'There MUST be one around here somewhere', I think to myself.
'Here' I hear from my left, 'You might need this'.
Looking over, I see a girl with short blonde hair waving a bottle opener at me. I take it, thanking her for her help and opening the bottles in my hand.
'So, this might sound weird...' she starts. I raise my eyebrows at her, causing her to grin at me, 'but aren't you the girl from the studio a few days ago?'
For the first time, I properly look at her. She was right. She was the girl I gave the directions to.
'Uh, coffee girl, right?' I ask. She grins again.
'That's me, though I hope the nickname doesn't stick...' There's an awkward silence before she continues, 'I'm Florence'
I nod in response, "Sheree'
'Nice to officially meet you. Your directions are shit, by the way. I hit Tesco'
'Oh, fuck. Sucks to be you, I guess'
I shrug at her. Florence again grins at me. She's making a habit out of that. I like it.
'So, what brings you to these neck of the woods? No offence, but you don't sound like you're from around here'
'A project' She pauses, choosing her words carefully, 'I'm an actor"
'Ah, a stripper' I tease.
'Fuck off' She laughs, which was the most beautiful sound I've ever heard, 'Ive been doing voice acting at the studio I saw you at...'
I'm impressed. To me there is nothing more attractive than a girl with a talent. I look at her closely, taking in every detail of her face, trying to work out if I would know her, but nothing came to mind.
'Would I know anything you've been in?' I ask her curiously.
'Maybe, maybe not' She shrugs at me, 'I-'
Just then, I felt two arms wrap around my waist and a chin rest on my shoulder. Nicole. Florences smile faulted slightly, before she turned her attention to the new arrival.
'Hi! You must be Sheree's... girl...?... friend...?' she paused between each word, unsure of how to go about the situation. We both knew she was flirting with me before, and now the situation had turned awkward. Not my girlfriend. Not my girlfriend. Not. My. Girlfriend.
'We're not quite at that stage yet, but maybe someday.' Nicole replies, before taking her drink from my hand, 'Thanks, kid' she kisses my cheek before skipping back outside to her friends. You're welcome, kid.
Florence furrowed her brows as we watched her leave. When she was out of sight, I turned again and caught Florence looking at me curiously. Not for the first time tonight either.
'She seems...'
'A lot' I interrupt.
'Nice' she continues.
I grin at her, taking a sip of my drink. She giggles, and I swear my heart nearly exploded. I'd found my new favourite sound.
#florence x reader#florence pugh imagine#florence pugh x reader#florence pugh x you#florence pugh x y/n
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Okay so.
I was a campaign worker and a census worker in 2020 leading up to the election and I actually **really** need to acknowledge one of the realities I observed while there.
Democrats haven't campaigned since Obama's first election. They just haven't. I've lived in so many different regions, with so many different political trends, and 9/10, I was one of the only Democratic Campaign canvassers in the entire district, let alone offices that people could come to in order to engage with candidates. Most of the people I canvassed were delighted to see me and invited me in for something to drink and a chat about local political priorities. We had AMAZING conversations! So many were politically engaged and had really clear priorities! They had amazing feedback for my campaign staff! But the one thing I heard over and over again: You're the only person to contact us in years. No one comes here, no one talks with us or calls on us to get involved. We try and get sent signs but we want to do more here. Why doesn't anyone else come?
It felt like a fluke at first. Maybe I was just in an underserved district. But then it happened again. And again. And soon it never stopped happening. Safe districts, lost causes, battleground districts, they all reported the same utter abandonment. The last time canvassers came by was in 2008.
And I started to think. In all that time, no one had canvassed me. I hadn't spoken to anyone either. I'd sought out engagement in specific policy conversations, or even specific candidates, yes, but no one ever reached out to my communities either.
The same cannot be said for the Republicans. Once again, universally regardless of the district, where Democratic politicians were never showing up, many Republican candidates were literally hosting local talks themselves, or even taking on door knocking shifts to talk directly to voters.
The last time a Democratic candidate's canvasser came to my home was in 2008 when I had Hilary Clinton and Barack Obama canvassers checking in periodically during the primary. Obama's people came by a small handful of times, basically whenever they re-ran a neighborhood. The Clinton team came by once and didn't return. I gave to both and made the same request: add gay marriage to the party platform during your term. Obama did, Clinton did not. I never spoke to another Democratic campaign team again unless I had initiated the connection.
This is a fucking problem. And it fundamentally CANNOT be solved by telling people to vote Blue as harm reduction. The voters WANT their candidates to engage them. And the candidates (at least many at the state level and above with a D by their name) are simply choosing not to. The voters can't force them to spend their money on canvassers instead of tv ads, but the candidates could choose to give a flying fuck about the people living back home in their districts.
I cannot emphasize to you enough that the people ARE voting. The people who feel that there is a candidate who sees and values them are voting for that candidate. And the people who see nothing but rejection in the electoral process are voting by withdrawing from a sustem of power and engagement and public discourse that chose to withdraw from them first. The sooner people begging for Democratic votes get that situated in their mind, the better odds they will have of being able to improve their base's turnout in literally any way.
At this point I literally do not care how you FEEL like you shpuld be able to do things. We do not have the time, luxury, or wiggle room to fuck around. This is evidence-based approaches only hours.
And shaming voters who have been alienated and abandoned in pretty explicit terms for almost 20 years will never bring us a good outcome. You want voters? Get in touch with a candidate's campaign staff and see about picking up canvassing kit. Usually, the candidate's website will offer "get involved" pages where you can identify what kind of support you are able and willing to provide. Use that and check off any you're interested in hearing more about, and someone will be in touch to chat it over! There are often canvassing shifts that door-knock, that use the text system, or that call voters thru the registry, as well as other options more unique to the specific campaign. You want to help increase voter turn out for your candidate? Then fucking do it. And stop hurting your own outcomes by doing shit literally EVERYONE in organizing knows doesn't work.
It's what I spent the last 25yrs doing. It's what I'll probably always do for policy campaigns, but might never again do for a candidate. I'm a human being and after 25yrs of commitment, if they want me to support them, they'll have to actually campaign and reach out to me to initiate voter and campaign engagement. Anyone who doesn't consider me and my district worth their time certainly isn't worth mine.
Let me know when Biden's campaign staff plan to actually start campaigning. Maybe if someone knocks on our door they'll get to be their crew's star canvasser. If no one bothers? Well doesn't that just say the whole fucking problem clear as day at this point?
i know the prospect of usamerican democracy sliding off a cliff is scary but don't worry, liberals: if you yell at enough strangers on the internet you will swing the vital and gamechanging electoral demographic of Tumblr Communists
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The worst part of being friends with someone who ghosts you out of the blue is that I have all this useless information about this person taking up space in my brain. Everywhere I go, I see reminders of him.
I walk by a pickleball court every so often and think about all the games we used to play.
I go to a baseball game in my city and it reminds me of him being a former baseball player. I wonder if I’ll run into him, knowing he has season tickets.
I order chicken tikka masala and it reminds me of the dinner he cooked for me.
A watch commercial comes on TV and I wonder if he’s still doing vintage watch repairs as a hobby.
Golden retrievers are his favorite dog, and of course I see them quite often and it reminds me about the time we took his brother’s golden out for a walk at a local nature preserve. It sounds unexciting, but that was one of the best dates (and best day) I’ve ever had. Something about the simplicity, and the easy and natural connection we had was wonderful. I’ve always said that I know I found the right person if I can have fun with someone doing something as mundane as grocery shopping. And I felt that with him.
His birthday was on May 2*, but I did not text him. It took every ounce of self-control not to, because the rational part of my brain says why should I give my energy and love to someone who doesn’t return the same feelings?
The truth is, being with him was the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. I didn’t expect to feel that way, but I cared about him deeply. It’s been months since he suddenly dropped out of my life with no explanation, but I still think about him every day when I wake up and every night when I go to sleep.
It’s scary because I thought he was the perfect person. Kind, funny, goofy, easy going, intelligent, generous and all around such a joy to be around. I felt this overwhelming sense of comfort, ease, and pure happiness just being around him. We didn’t even have to talk. Being in his presence was more than enough for me. Maybe I had rose-colored glasses on, and that’s what makes the split even more devastating. I didn’t see any red flags or even the slightest warning sign this was going to happen.
He always seemed interested in me and our friendship (situationship?). Until he wasn’t.
Looking back, here are the only potential red flags I might have overlooked:
- He didn’t text me on my birthday, even when I told him when it was the week before - He would take 5+ hours to respond to my texts - Didn’t invite me to a holiday party he hosted for his friends
Why would this guy call me sweet, beautiful, smart, etc. - all these nice these about me if he didn’t like me? Was it all a lie? The last day I saw him we had pizza for dinner, and watched Jake and Amir. He went away on a trip, and never saw or heard from him again. What the hell happened, because I have no idea.
I’m terrified my intuition is off. I’m terrified that I’ll meet another person I love, and they’ll abandon me like he did.
Maybe I was a fool to think we ever belonged together. He’s the affable, all-American guy next door. And I’m not the pretty blonde, loud, former sorority girl type that he probably likes. I’m never going to be that girl. I never fit into his world.
It’s sad that I poured my heart and feelings into a person who didn’t mean what they said. That all of the experiences I had was one-sided. That I liked him so much more than he ever did for me. It makes me feel stupid and worthless that he could just toss me away, while I’m still clinging onto memories of him.
I hope one day I can look back on all of this without feeling pain. The good times were good, while it lasted. I’m trying to appreciate that.
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Here I go, I'm going to reveal my age, yet again, so take a deep breath, and just sit back...
Harry Belafonte has been around me since I can remember. The Banana Boat song on The Muppet Show, learning the words of "Jamaica Farewell" at school, and Calypso music being everywhere.
But the first thing that came to my mind when I heard about his dying was how Harry was an activist, and that he was passionately and intimately involved in bringing the movie "Beat Street" to fruition.
The truth was that I was living in a country town in the Southwest Region of Western Australia, and I felt isolated from the world... except for TV, and music. So when Harry Belafonte comes on TV and starts talking about a movie called "Beat Street" and then the TV is showing me a side of New York it has never shown me before, I got excited. It was the closest thing to international travel I had. These people were making music, and they were dancing, to that music, and they were real.
But it started a little time before, with Malcolm McLaren and "Buffalo Gals". The guy in a shirt, jeans, and sneakers walking forwards, but moving... sliding backwards on the street.
WTF? How? How did he do that? I watched that part every time the clip came on the TV, and it amazed me, and baffled me at the same time.
Then came Harry Belafonte and "Beat Street". Harry spoke about the movie in between clips, and the more I heard the more interested I became.
"Beat Street" was not like other movies, and I knew I wanted to see this movie. When it finally came to the local video store, and I found it, I watched it.
Then the Countdown Magazine did a feature on Break Dancing, and the Countdown show held a Break Dancing competition, and The Rock Steady Crew came to Australia to help host it... the Rock Steady Crew from the "Beat Street" movie. And the guy who we knew from Bowling who owned a dance studio had started teaching Break Dancing, and so I had to learn how to do that walk forwards and move backwards thing... and so I did. And the Rock Steady Crew were kind of there as well. They played "Breakin' (There's no Stoppin' Us)" at a school dance, and I started dancing. It was the first time anyone at school even knew I was break dancing, and I got a little bit famous for a short while because of that.
That's what I thought about when I heard the news about Harry Belafonte's passing.
Just today I watched the "Buffalo Gals" clip, again, composing a thread about rap and break dancing and Harry Belafonte, and the Rock Steady Crew... and in that Buffalo Gals clip... for just the briefest moment there is a glimpse of red jacket, with white writing on it... "Rock Steady". So even when I didn't know it, the Rock Steady Crew were there from the start.
But if it wasn't for Harry and "Beat Street" I would never have followed that short crazy path.
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Bloody Gore Comix presents SLAUGHTERED KINGDOM A comic by Mike Wasion and Steph Dumais bloodygorecomix.com/collections/featured/products/slaughtered-kingdom There’s a lonely stretch of road carved into the backcountry of Diamond County, in upstate New York. Locals call it the “Ghost Belt”...a place where truckers, travelers, and tourists have a habit of winding up on the back of milk cartons. Throughout the years, there have been attempts to bring some life to the area - summer camps, planned communities, a lakeside shopping district - but nothing takes root for long. There always seems to be a reason for people to leave. Sometimes in a body bag. Sometimes, in piles of them. There are stories, of course. Children tell them on the playground at recess, teenagers make their dares deep in the bike trails, and parents roll their eyes at the dinner table, hearing about it all for the hundredth time. But there’s one story no one likes to tell. A story that makes children stop giggling. That makes teenagers peddle home, red-faced. That makes parents reach for their belt. The story of The Kingdom. A local access TV station, broadcasting from somewhere out in the wilderness near Diamond Lake. Some say (if you can get them to talk at all) that it was part of a private commune, the backwoods Holy Land for a select, and secret few. Others insist that it was a gaudy religious tourist trap, complete with commercials, brochures, and t-shirts from the gift shop, the worst kept “secret” in the tri-county area. Whatever the case, one thing is agreed upon - at the height of its popularity, Kingdom Come Broadcasting hosted a final sermon. And in that sermon, its pastor…who no one can ever seem to quite remember…called his followers home. Dozens, if not hundreds of devout locals disappeared into the Diamond County barrens, never to be seen or heard from again. Those few who made it back were unable, or unwilling to tell the world what happened. Kingdom Come Broadcasting went off the air. The Kingdom itself disappeared with its congregation, as if it had never existed. With no other options at their disposal, the community moved on. But the Ghost Belt has a long memory. Whatever was in those woods, whatever called out to those people…is still calling. Its work is not done. Every crash, every tragedy, every missing person is but another crimson strand in a spiderweb stretching across the countryside, and across time itself, horror connecting to horror until it finally gets what it wants. And tonight, it just may have. In a flash of twisted metal and broken bodies, Diamond Lake’s most infamous prodigal son has been returned to his childhood playground, with a head full of bleeding memories…and a brand new body to match. Who has brought him here? What is the purpose of his endless torment? And just what has he become? Only one thing is certain…all roads lead to The Kingdom. An unyielding avalanche of splatterpunk fury, Slaughtered Kingdom brings you back to the days of vicious pop culture icons like Splatterhouse, Devilman, TMNT and Heavy Metal, and brings you a new hero who redefines violence. Speaking the language of big box VHS horror, bloodsoaked OVA anime, and 16-bit nightmares, Slaughtered Kingdom knows what you’ve been missing, knows what you need…and seeks to fill your gullet, fist over fist. Welcome home, children. It’s been much too long.
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dirty little secret ~ knj
❆ summary: one fateful night in december, you come to acquire santa's naughty or nice list by accident. together with your neighbour and best friend namjoon you uncover the dirty secrets of your neighbours plunging everything into chaos. bringing mischief about is all fun games, until your own little secret appears on the naughty and nice list.
❆ pairing: namjoon x female reader (minor appearance of other idols)
❆ word count: 10,4k
❆ genre: humor, romance, fluff, smut
❆ fic warnings: oral sex (f. receiving), language
❆ rating: 18+
❆ notes from the author: this fic is part of a hoeliday well spent from the christmas in july collab hosted by @kookdiaries, @kithtaehyung and @xiaokoo and is loosely based on the hallmark channel-movie ‘naughty or nice’ (2012). i had a lot of fun writing this! big thank you again to @kookdiaries for creating this incredible banner and for @minigum for being the most wonderful beta reader <3
❆ tag list: @shameless-army @writtenwhalien @shrimpmsg @moonchild1
In the dark of the night, snow was falling softly and covered the street in peaceful quietness. Christmas decorations and flickering candles adorned the lit windows and lights were beautifully draped around snow-covered bushes. Sparkling reindeers pulled Santa’s carriage and inflated snowmen waved happily at cars driving by. Christmas time had just begun.
A few lamps illuminated the street with their yellow dimmed light as a dark, giant shadow slipped past. Quiet footsteps could be heard in the stillness of the cold winter night, wading through ankle-deep snow in heavy black boots. They were on their way to the sturdy apartment building on the left side of the desolate street, determined to fulfil their quest. They took another look around before they slipped through the glass door, the red fabric of their clothes gleamed under the flickering light of the broken lamp of the entrance lobby. Then, the night was quiet again.
You had been out with your best friend and next-door neighbour Namjoon whom you knew a few years by now. From the first day you had set foot in the small apartment building, he had been a helping hand, mainly through helping you carry a myriad of small boxes and things all the way up to the 6th floor where the both of you lived. The elevator had, of course, been out of order on that day. But he hadn’t complained at all! And because he had gone way out of his way even though he had only met you that same day, you had invited him to a take-away pizza and a bottle of cheap wine from the supermarket right around the corner. You had not expected your first night in your new home to be like this, to be so much fun. He had stayed until the morning, the two of you talking about anything and everything until the birds had chirped good morning outside. And the bond between the two of you had only grown from there on out.
You had visited a local Christmas market together, drinking a whole lot of eggnog and relishing in the joyful spirit of Christmas. You had never been someone to celebrate Christmas before you had met Namjoon. In your first year, he had basically dragged you to the market and filled you up with all kinds of different Christmassy drinks and snacks, bought you several gingerbread hearts, and even got you to ride one of the many attractions with him. The next day had been awful, the hot chocolate with rum had come out the same way that it had gone in. Still, it had been the most joyous Christmas time you had ever had.
Ever since then, he always did something new with you every Christmas. Buying a tree, seeing a Santa Claus show in the city centre, or writing letters with long wish lists to Santa. But it had never come down to actually spending Christmas eve and morning together, to your disappointment. He usually drove to his parents, a three-hour ride from where you lived, leaving you on your own to sulk in loneliness until he came back for New Year’s Eve.
Well, this year he had bugged you until you had agreed to go décor shopping for your apartment with him. It had made him sad to see your living space so empty during a cheery time like this. He got you all the basic things: fairy lights, cute little snowmen that had the friendliest smiles, a whole lot of candlesticks with red candles that smelled like gingerbread and cinnamon, hell, even glitter balls and bows for the small tree he also had gotten you.
After putting all the decorations up and “to celebrate your joyful shopping spree”, as Namjoon had called it, he had once again persuaded you to go to the Christmas market, letting no feeble excuses count. He had been in too good of a mood anyway for you to turn him down. You found it cute when he was all excited and giddy like this.
He had ordered eggnog after eggnog. His infectious enthusiasm had only gone up, not down a tad as you had hoped. But after the third eggnog, you hadn’t minded anymore anyway. Namjoon had entertained you all through the evening, making you laugh and enjoy yourself after a long week of studying and learning. Even though it had just snowed the other day, the eggnog had held you warm through and through, your cheeks feeling hot. Maybe it had also been a little bit because of Namjoon and how he had scooted closer and closer to you throughout the evening, ‘to keep each other warm’ as he had stated.
You had stayed until the booth had closed and the owner had hushed you to finally head home. Given both of your inebriated states, getting home had taken twice as long as it did when you’d left from home to go out.
As you had reached the door, waving a last goodbye to Namjoon who had stumbled clumsily into his own apartment, it had taken you a few minutes until you finally had gotten the key into the hole. You hadn’t even bothered to brush your teeth, only changing into comfy pyjamas – which had been quite the task – and slipping into bed. Dreamland hadn’t waited long to come, and you had fallen sound asleep.
So, to no one’s surprise, you didn’t hear when soft but heavy footsteps approached your apartment in the middle of the night. Didn’t spot the broad shadow that could be seen through the small gap under your door where the light fell in. Didn’t notice when a thick package wrapped with packing paper was pushed through the letter slot of your apartment door.
The package fell to the ground with a gentle thud. The towering figure hummed a merry tune before taking off again. You only turned around in your sleep, mumbling, “No more eggnog, Namjoon”, before it was quiet once more.
The rest of the night went uneventfully, and the package laid peacefully on your door mat until morning came.
A pounding headache. That was what had woken you up. The eggnog hadn’t been a good idea from the start, and you had told Namjoon several times. But even though he had listened to you, he had ignored your reasonable request. He hadn’t really given you a choice to begin with. And you hadn’t wanted to complain. At least he had paid and that was all that had been needed to convince you.
While Namjoon was already producing his own music, you were still a university student majoring in Art. You got by fine with the money your parents sent you and what you earned from your part-time job at the library, but you were still glad for every penny you could keep and save for after university. You dreamed of opening your own business and, heck, you needed a lot of money for that.
When Namjoon had heard of your ideas, he had been in immediately, supporting you in every way possible. Even if it meant paying for your drinks or your museum visits on the weekend. As long as he got to spend time with you, it was worth all his money.
You desperately grabbled for the nightstand. Luckily, you had prepared pain meds and water in advance, even a small piece of toast. Your nights out with Namjoon usually ended like this, so you are accustomed to it.
Sitting up a little, you popped the pills into your mouth first before chucking the water into your throat as if your life depended on it. Once you’d dealt with that, you reached towards the toast, munching on it until it was no more.
You felt better immediately as the medicine worked its way through your system and the toast soaked up the remaining alcohol in your stomach. Slowly the turns in your stomach lessened and until there was one thing overtaking your needs. It was time for coffee.
Slowly, you got up, swaying a little back onto the bed but overall, it was not as bad as you’d had expected. Sure, the eggnog had made your stomach a little weak, but you felt certain it could handle the coffee. Otherwise, you couldn’t make it through the day. Coffee was vital right now.
On the way out of your bedroom, you snatched your long silk gown, putting it on. You headed straight to the coffee machine, pushing the little blinking button so it started grinding the black beans. The soft smell of freshly ground coffee filled the air as you grabbed a big mug from the sink. You sighed and leaned one hip on the counter.
As you waited for the coffee you looked around and your gaze fell onto an exceptionally cheery snowman on your coffee table. You had never been keen on Christmas decorations. They were too bright, too colourful, and too cheesy.
Well, jokes on you. All the things the two of you had bought, the fairy lights, red candles, a few reindeers and snowmen, and some green fir branches, were now spread around your apartment, the small tree chilling next to your TV in the corner. It was hard to say ‘No’ to Namjoon’s puppy eyes. He usually got his way with you.
It had also been his idea to not only put the lights on the curtain rods but to wind them around them, too.
He had held you safely by your waist as you had stood on the ladder to reach up there. His long, slender hands had felt so warm through your clothes that your heart had stuttered for a second and you had gotten the job done rather quickly to get away from this weird feeling that had erupted in your chest. Because you couldn’t admit it to yourself. You couldn’t admit that Namjoon had become more than a best friend to you over the last few years.
But you had to confess; the lights were very very pretty. You even thought about keeping them up there after Christmas. They brought a soft glow around the room that made it feel unbelievably cosy and romantic.
As you absentmindedly grabbed for your finished cup of coffee you couldn’t help but remember the way Namjoon’s skin had glowed in these lights. How mesmerizing he had looked. How hard you had had to keep yourself from putting a hand up to one of his cheeks and caressing his soft skin.
You lost yourself in the memory for a second before you noticed something very peculiar from the corner of your eye. Something very square and brown. It was a package. On your doormat. ‘What in god’s name,’ you thought to yourself as you eyed it in curious suspicion. The post usually never came that early. Especially not on a Saturday. And why had no one rang the bell? It was odd, to say the least.
You left your coffee on the counter, steam still rising in puffy clouds from the cup. Cautiously, you made your way over to the mysterious package that read your full address, but no sender. It was quite big, now that you had gotten closer, and it had you wondering how it had fit through the narrow letter slot. Maybe Namjoon was pulling a prank on you?
Before you picked up the package, you opened the door and checked the hallway, frantically looking left and right. But no one was there, not even Namjoon to cheekily grin at you.
Closing the door behind you, you took the brown package and laid it down on the counter next to your coffee. You eyed it once more while taking a long sip from the beverage. Should you open it? What if there was something… bad or deadly inside? You had heard of such packages before on the news. People sent them to get revenge on ex-partners or enemies. Well, you had no such things… and Namjoon seemed to be out of the picture as well.
After some more staring, curiosity finally got the best of you, and you carefully ripped open the brown packing paper. It revealed a heavy book that was edged in red velvety fabric that had golden ornaments engraved. Imprinted on it was the lettering “Naughty or Nice”. Wait- what?!
Snorting laughter erupted from your chest. This had to be a prank, right? ‘Namjoon’s good,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Keeps hiding until I actually look at the book. Not a very good prank, but alright…’
As you were about to open it, you could hear a key jingling in front of your door and some mumbled curses. ‘Speaking of the devil.’ Namjoon strode through the door in his pyjama and a long gown, his hair looking dishevelled and eyes still half-closed. He had your spare keys which gave him the possibility to let himself in whenever and you didn’t mind. At this point, it had become commonplace.
You watched with an amused grin as he immediately scuffed over to the coffee machine, grabbing another cup from the sink, and turning it on once more. He inhaled the smell just like you did before he turned around to face you.
“Morning, Y/N,” he hummed, and a lop-sided grin adorned his lips. Hell, how did this sleepy look fit him so well? “How is your stomach?”
You crossed your arms and leant back on the counter. “Better than I thought. You?”
“Same, same. I just really craved your coffee. This machine is a literal angel!” He turned back around to grab his coffee and take a big gulp before letting out a satisfied sigh.
“Very funny, by the way.” You pointed at the book behind you, still laying unopened on your counter. “You never have Christmas-pranked me before so that’s a first. But it isn’t one of your best ideas, if I can be honest with you.”
There was a moment of silence. You had expected him to laugh at you or make a clever remark about how he had gotten you to open it. But… nothing. He just blankly stared at you. “What?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Making this book look like Santa’s Naughty or Nice list? Very funny, Namjoon, very funny!” You chuckled a little at him pretending not to know what you were talking about.
He spied over your shoulder, reading the lettering. And shook his head. “Y/N. I… didn’t prank you. This–“ He pointed to the book. “–is nothing I came up with. Though I must say, I think it’s a pretty good idea!” He snickered a little and took another sip of his coffee.
“But–“ You turned around to the book. “–who sent it to me then? I don’t know who else would try and prank me…” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, taking another look at the packing paper. Still nothing but your address.
“Have you opened it yet?”
“No, I was just about to when you came through the door.” You put a hand on the binding. The velvet fabric felt soft under your fingertips and the golden lettering glittered in the glim of the fairy lights. It looked so… real.
Carefully, you opened it, coming face to face with a blank page. Maybe the others? You browsed to the next page. And the next. And the next. But they were all blank, not even a tiny little bit of ink to be seen. ‘Weird…’
Skimming through the rest of the book, you looked for anything peculiar. Nothing. “It’s empty,” you told Namjoon, while going back to the first page and leaving it open.
You heard shuffling on the floor and suddenly Namjoon leaned over your shoulder to look at the book. He stretched out his hand to skim through it as well. He was so close. You could feel the heat radiating off his body and his breath on your neck as he let out a confused huff.
When he stepped back from you after inspecting the book, you wished him back closer behind you. ‘Stop that,’ you scolded yourself in your head. ‘He is your best friend!’
“Well, it actually looks like someone pulled a prank on you,” Namjoon stated while making himself another cup of coffee. He usually runs on three. On a good day. That you knew his coffee consumption so well said a lot about how regularly he came over in the morning to use your coffee machine.
“Apparently…”
Loud bass suddenly disrupted the morning, booming through the wall to your left. ‘No, not again!’ It was your other neighbour… Jungkook. He kept it down on most days. But he always pulled this on a Saturday morning, and you were sure he was doing it on purpose just to annoy you. You had banged on the wall a few times before. On some days he even turned the music down after your knocking complaint. But today, it was on a whole other level. As if he knew you had been out late and had a mild hangover.
“Ugh, I’ll swear I’ll punch him some day,” you mumbled while pinching your eyebrows in frustration.
Namjoon knew you weren’t kidding. Jungkook had been getting on your nerves ever since he had moved in next door. Before him, there lived a nice and quiet lady who occasionally baked chocolate cookies for the two of you and had always put something nice in front of your door during Christmas time. Now, there was Jungkook. Student, party animal, and the type to listen to music so loud you couldn’t hear your own thoughts.
“I wouldn’t mind,” Namjoon said. “But I also don’t want to have to visit you in prison during Christmas time.” He chuckled lightly, running a hand through his hair before chucking down his coffee.
Suddenly, you heard a rustling noise of paper coming from the counter. The book! It was turning its pages on its own. “Holy-“
You stepped in front of the counter, Namjoon following closely, eyes as wide as the moon. “How is that possible?” he whispered while peering over your shoulder again.
A golden light bloomed from the Naughty or Nice book and the two of you just stared at in great awe as sparkles danced around the room. “I’m usually not one to believe in magic,” Namjoon muttered under his breath. “But this is a whole new thing…”
The turning stopped and the pages gently dropped down. Beautiful, curved letters emerged, writing your neighbour’s name. They shone golden in the light. “What is happening?” you hissed while intently watching the book. Namjoon just shrugged his shoulders, speechless.
Jeon Jungkook: always leaves his trash in front of Mrs. Kim’s apartment door
Underneath was a moving picture, showing Jungkook looking around frantically before putting his trash bag on Mrs. Kim’s doormat and a more detailed description of what was going on. You gasped out in disbelief. “Mrs. Kim is always so nice! How dare he!?”
Namjoon let out an angry huff. “You’ve got a good point but-“ His forehead crinkled in confusion and scepticism. “How does it do that?”
You shrugged, turning the page to see if it had a built-in display. But… there was nothing. It was just a normal page like any other. You turned back to the picture of Jungkook where he had gotten caught in the act. By whom? You didn’t know, could only guess… But no, this was not possible. Santa didn’t exist. But… an idea came to your head.
“Hmm, let’s put this to a test,” you said as the pounding bass continued to boom through the wall. You left the book open, the image of Jungkook engraved in your head, as you turned on your heels and made your way over to the door.
“You actually gonna go over there?” Namjoon trailed behind you, not sure if this was the right thing to do. You definitely had a reason to be angry at Jungkook. But what if this was all just a scam? Well, it felt far too real for that, but Namjoon wasn’t yet ready to call his beliefs into question. This was insane.
You nodded and opened the door. “He has been getting on my nerves for a few weeks now. It’s time to put this to a stop.” You gave him one last determined book before stepping out into the hallway.
Namjoon shook his head in amusement at your vendetta and stopped at your doorstep, leaning against the frame watching you. This was your fight. He wouldn’t get between the frontlines. He knew your anger all too well.
You rapped viciously on the door; quite sure Jungkook wouldn’t hear any of it. And of course, the door didn’t open and the music blared on. So, you resorted to a more effective method. You pressed the button of the bell and held it down. ‘I will have you answer your door even if it takes the whole freaking day.’
It took a few seconds, but you heard the music fading and someone swearing behind the door. It worked. A malicious smirk adorned your lips. You weren’t even nervous, more excited to try the spicy information you had acquired about him. The keys jingled in the keyhole and an annoyed face appeared in the ajar door. “What is it?”
You crossed your arms and put on your most intimidating look. The secret from the book gave you a hell of a confident boost. “Jungkook,” you started, “I’ve told you many many times to quiet it down.”
He rolled his eyes and huffed. “I know. I’m sorry but-“
You cut him off immediately. “No buts. You’re either gonna tone it down from now on or…”
“Or what? You’re trying to threaten me?” He laughed and threw his head back. “That’s new. Well, you’ve got nothing on me, Y/N.”
You squinted your eyes at him, and a smile grew on your face. “You sure?”
Jungkook leaned against the door frame while looking bored. The arrogant look on his face gave you the rest of the encouragement you needed. “Well,” you swirled one of your hair strands around your finger, “I know you’re putting your trash bags on Mrs. Kim’s doormat, so you don’t have to take it out yourself…”
It took a moment for Jungkook to realise what you just said. But when he finally did, his jaw almost dropped down to his knees. “How-“
“The poor woman. I think she deserves to know…” You turned around, feeling the power pulsating in your hands. It was electrifying! You slowly strode over to your apartment.
“Y/N!” Jungkook called out after you, desperation apparent in his voice. “I-“ He dropped his head in defeat, all pride and arrogance had left his body. “If you don’t tell her, I promise I’m gonna tone it down from now on,” he caved in.
“You better,” you just answered and walked away, leaving a speechless Jungkook by his door.
Namjoon snickered as you entered your apartment again, finding the whole situation very amusing. “Have you seen his face? He was so stunned!” Both of you burst out into a fit of laughter, needing a few seconds to calm yourselves down again.
You went back to the still open book. “So it tells the truth…” you stated while tracing the letters with your fingers when they suddenly started to disappear. “Oh! They’re vanishing!”
“Probably because you called him out on that,” Namjoon assumed, looking at the now empty page and then at you. “You know what that means… right?”
You turned it over in your head for a few seconds before you answered Namjoon’s gaze with a mischievous smile. “Let’s discover some secrets this Christmas!”
And so, the two of you went on to discover the hidden secrets and misdeeds of all of your neighbours. The book was never wrong. Not when it told you that Mrs. Kim had a secret fling with Mr. Sung from floor 5 and they were acting like giddy teenagers, that Mrs. Lee let her dog pee on Mrs. Park’s door mat once in a while because they couldn’t stand each other, that Soonyoung from second floor liked to bathe in pure milk occasionally, that Yeji from first floor stole Mr. Chew’s newspaper now and then because he was rude to basically everyone in the building, that Taehyung from fourth floor had sang Christmas carols in the middle of the night for Yeji because he had been out to drink, and many many more.
Some of them you used for your amusement, but most of them were kept between the both of you. You felt closer to Namjoon than ever before. Sharing and keeping secrets about your neighbours bound you together. And Christmas time was a blast, for the both of you! You went out once in a while to the Christmas market again but usually you kept your noses in the Naughty or Nice book, awaiting the next secret to appear. So, Christmas time went by in a happy blur.
After coming home from another one of your merry adventures, you began to realise that this might all be over soon. Actually, Christmas evening was tomorrow already and Namjoon would probably be off to his parents. You didn’t want to stop discovering all these secrets with Namjoon. You had spent a lot of time together; it had been so much fun. And you liked being around him, you knew that. You weren’t ready to admit it, but you had fallen in love with him even more by now. Even after all these years, his way of living and his wisdom still amazed you to no end.
Your thoughts were suddenly disrupted by Namjoon as the both of you reached your apartment door. “Y/N?”
“Yes,” you answered, shaking yourself out of your thoughts. Namjoon stood in front of you, nervously wrenching his hands. You had never seen him skittish before. Had something happened?
He took a deep breath before he began to speak. “I was… wondering if you wanted to spent Christmas together?” Namjoon nervously scratched his head. “I-“ he stumbled over his own words for a moment. “I don’t want you to be alone for Christmas. And my parents won’t be at home anyway. So, I was wondering- I mean-“ He rambled on and gestured wildly between the both of you.
To stop him, you gently put your hand on his arm. “Yes,” you answered simply and smiled at him happily, not able to contain your excitement at his request. Your heart was beating in your chest. Spending Christmas with Namjoon was a dream come true.
“I... would love to.” You rubbed your arm awkwardly while not being able to meet his eyes. You were sure he would be able to read your confused feelings for him right there.
He let out a small huff of relief. “Good, good… We can go grocery shopping together tomorrow if you want. So we can pick something to eat that we both like.”
“That sounds like a great idea. Meet in the morning as usual?” you asked, fidgeting with your jacket sleeve.
Namjoon nodded. “I will cook of course. You will be my guest! Also, your cooking skills might be a little insufficient for Christmas…” Mischievousness gleamed in his eyes and you just shook your head, laughing a little.
“I think my cooking skills are fine as they are. It’s not my fault you don’t like the food that I cook!” you exclaimed and hit his shoulder playfully. “Also, your food might taste better than mine. But you’re definitely more chaotic than I am!”
“Okay, okay,” he put his hands up in defeat. “You’ve got a point. I’m still cooking though.” He took off his beanie to run a hand through his hair. He stretched his arms out, motioning for you to give him a goodbye-hug.
Your skin tingled as you obliged. His hands rested on your back as he tugged you close. “Good night, Y/N,” he whispered into your ear, eliciting a shiver running down your back. Gosh, his voice and his soft lips were hovering right next to your ear. It created images in your head you shouldn’t be thinking about in the proximity of your best friend, but you couldn’t help yourself.
You swallowed a big lump in your throat. “Good night to you too,” you whispered back with a hoarse voice, heart still fluttering. He could hear the rapid beating for sure.
Both of you stayed in the hug longer than necessary, thinking about what would become of your adventures once Christmas was over. You were sure the book would disappear, that its owner would come to get it.
You sighed before stepping away from Namjoon, giving him a small smile before pulling out your keys. He went over to his door, a jingling noise reaching your ears. You looked over your shoulder before entering your apartment.
“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” Namjoon called over in a hushed voice before he disappeared behind his own door. Little did you and he know what effect these last few words would have on you…
Wanton sounds escaped your mouth as your hands grasped fiercely for your sheets. Waves of pleasure rolled through your body as you felt a desperate mouth latching onto your clit, tongue poking out to gratify your little bundle of nerves. Your eyes rolled back into your head. It felt… overwhelming.
You couldn’t hold in a lewd moan as the tongue worked magic on you. “Please–“ You couldn’t form a whole sentence without being interrupted by your own moans.
You felt a hand softly caressing your thigh. “Y/N,” a familiar voice reached your ear, making you perk up. Was this… real? You lifted yourself on your elbows to see if you were right with your guess.
Looking up from between your legs was a tousled Namjoon, cheeks red and lips glistening in the light of your fairy lights. He looked like an angel with his skin glowing golden and his hair illuminated.
It felt like a dream come true…
It wasn’t the morning light waking you up nor the loud traffic noise from the street in front of your apartment building. No. What woke you up was the growing wetness between your legs. Your heart beat loudly in your chest, a light film of sweat covered your forehead. Well, that had been… hot.
You had had dreams of Namjoon before. Funny ones, sad ones, even ones where the two of you had been dating. But with things like this, you had only been daydreaming about thus far. It had you all riled up, a little embarrassed, but first and foremost horny.
His head between your legs and his tongue on your clit had felt so real. Oh, what you’d give to actually get to feel that. But you were sure that it would remain something that stayed in your daydreams, when you had to release some friction behind your bedroom doors.
You sighed, pushing the thick blanket to the side. You had to take care of the mess between your legs and there was only one place that always helped: the shower. You had to get this dream out of your head before Namjoon would come over. Otherwise you wouldn’t be able to look into his eyes without thinking of the sinful scene that repeated itself again and again in your head.
‘Let’s get this over with,’ you pushed yourself to get out of bed and into the shower. As if you didn’t enjoy this…
As you sat down by the book again with a big cup of fresh coffee, you were actually wondering if you’d ever appear on the list. Or Namjoon. And which secret of yours it would be. So far, it hadn’t spilled any of yours. But it would be merely a matter of time until the pages would reveal what you had kept from one another. Even though there were barely any secrets between the two of you. Only this… this was kind of a major one.
Absent-mindedly, you browsed through the book again. What secret would reveal itself today? Maybe about this dude all up on floor 7 that was always wearing a beanie and sunglasses or that girl from over the street that was walking her dog up and down the street.
Someone was entering the apartment. Namjoon rounded the corner and came into your view. He was also still in his morning clothes, his feet hidden beneath two slippers. Your gazes met shortly, a quick nod exchanged and gentle smiles, before he made a turn.
“And?” He strolled over to the coffee machine, slippers scratching on the floor. “Anything new?” He nodded towards the book sprawled out in front of you.
“I haven’t really checked yet, give me a second.” You concentrated back on the book, pages sliding through your fingers as you looked for a new secret until you found it. You didn’t really pay any attention at first. But then you read your name in big, curved letters. A quiet gasp slipped past your lips.
Checking to see if Namjoon was still making coffee, you hoped he was not aware of your little slip up. He happily worked away, putting coffee beans into the machine, whistling ‘Jingle Bells Rock’ to the puckering sound of the milk frother.
Then, you turned your attention back to the book. When you read Has naughty dreams of their best friend in small letters, your heart sped up and your breathing got ragged. Underneath it was, like it had always been the case before, a more detailed description of what had happened. And a picture of you writhing and moaning beneath the sheets. No, why today?!
The words in front of you blurred as you tried to fathom the consequences if Namjoon came to read this. Your friendship would be over. He would never speak to you again. Hell, what would he think of you?!
You couldn’t let that happen. He was the only thing in your life that kept you sane. That could not all be thrown away. You quickly closed the book, thinking of something to distract Namjoon.
Unfortunately, the loud thump startled Namjoon. He turned around as he heard the sudden noise. He eyed you for a second and then noticed the closed book under your hands. He put down the coffee spoon he was holding. “Uhm… Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Your eyes are like… this wide.” He put a fair distance between his thumb and his pointer finger.
Quickly shaking your head, you scrambled for words. “It’s nothing. I-I thought I…” Yeah, what did you think? It was hard to lie when Namjoon looked at you like that. Your brain couldn’t come up with anything. Instead, you just gulped heavily.
Namjoon’s coffee was now forgotten, its owner too curious about what you had read and seen. He had, of course, noticed your nervous behaviour, growing suspicious of what you were trying to do. His slippers scraped along the floor again as he casually made his way over to you. With his gaze never leaving your face, he followed your every move.
Clambering for the book, you secured it in your arms before Namjoon could reach for it. He couldn’t find out. Not about the dream. Not about the feelings you held for him. But especially not about the dream. The sinful scenes replayed themselves in your head again and you felt your cheeks heating up once more. “There is nothing in there,” you exclaimed, trying to sound as convincing as possible. But there was a crack in your voice. And you could see it in his eyes. He knew.
Scrambling to sit up right on the couch, you shook your head ‘No’, keeping the book tight in your clutches. Over your dead body would it fall into his hands.
“If there is nothing to see, why are you keeping it from me?” He tried to reason with you, stretching out a hand towards the book that you kept clutched in front of your chest, your arms wrapped around it like it was the most precious treasure you had ever possessed.
Namjoon was not one to accept a ‘No’, you knew that. You could spot the determined look in his eyes already. There was nothing that would keep him from finding out. And that had you scared like hell.
You could only stare at him, not having an answer for his very true and logical question. He would always catch you with his well thought-out reasoning. It made you want to tear your hair out every time. Right now, though, you were paralysed by fear.
“Well, you leave me no choice,” he approached you slowly, trying to read you, trying to calculate which escape route you would take. Because whatever stood in that book, had you all jittery and he had to know why. Though he knew that you would never show him voluntarily.
Panic, your brain screamed. And your body scrambled up from the couch, trying to get away from Namjoon. You still clutched the book in front of your chest with both hands.
“No, no, no!” he lunged forward, reaching for you. “You’re not getting away!” He got your left foot before you could escape safely from the couch. Your body fell back onto the cushions, knocking the breath out of your lungs. But you didn’t let go of the book, no matter the pain it would cost.
In his haste to prevent your escape, he knocked down a few wooden reindeers and snowmen from the coffee table. Luckily, there was no glass there. You had told him right in the store that you would not be buying any glass decorations if he would be around. With his clumsiness, he would knock them down within mere seconds. Hell, he had almost dropped something right then and there in the shop. But you both had other things to worry about right now than your Christmas decorations.
“Namjoon,” you shout out anxiously. “Let go of me!” But his grip on you didn’t ease up.
“Not before you show me the freaking book, Y/N!” And he kept his word, his hands desperately trying to seize the book from your tight grip. But you wouldn’t give up so easily. You once more tried to get away from him, grasping for the armrest and pulling like your life depended on it. But he was just too strong, with one hand grabbling for the book and the other holding down your legs.
While fighting him off, you didn’t notice how he’d crawled up your body, getting in nearer reach of the book. And suddenly he was way too close to your face, hovering above you in such an intimate way he never had before.
There had been moments of course. Where he had caged you in a little at your door, when he had leaned in too close, when he had pulled you into his warm embrace… But that had been something different.
Now he laid on top of you, covering your body with his. His chest heaved against yours as he tried to catch his breath from fighting with you. His grey-dyed hair fell in streaks into his eyes and once more his skin glowed in the warm fuzzy light of the fairy lights that framed his head. For a second, the both of you just... stopped.
He looked deeply into your eyes; his pupils overshadowed with an emotion you couldn’t grasp. Your heart beat even faster and your brain felt like it would explode any minute. Your senses were heightened, and you could feel his skin burning on yours. It was… ravishing. Your body couldn’t get enough of it already.
Suddenly, he snapped the book out of your hand, forcing an evil laughter out of his mouth and the moment was gone. He had shamelessly used your messed up state to his advantage and now the book was in his hands.
He scrambled back up from his position on top of you, quickly getting away from you and taking the book with him so you wouldn’t come up with the idea of snatching it back from him. Well, you had resigned already anyway. There was no way you could stop the inevitable from happening now. You said your last goodbye to your friendship. He took one last look at your dishevelled and defeated state before he plopped down on the armchair.
Thump, thump, thump. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears like the drums of that one Christmas song that they always played on the radio, and your stomach took a heavy leap. No, you couldn’t watch this. It was just too much to handle. You grabbed for the plush Santa Namjoon had gotten you as a joke last year, and hid your face in the red fabric of his cloak. You peeked out anxiously, watching Namjoon.
Pages rustled as Namjoon slowly opened the book. His heart beat just as fast as yours as he searched for the right page. Not because he was anxious, but because of his excitement as to what he would get to read on that page. And then he finally found it.
He was not surprised that it was about you. He had actually predicted that. Why else would you react that way if this didn’t reveal something about you? But the content had him gasping out in astonishment.
To actually believe it, he had to read it more than once. It beat all of his wildest dreams. Not only had you caught feelings for him, but he had of course caught feelings for you as well. And quite some time ago too. He had wanted to confess more than once but he hadn’t had the guts. He was very afraid of losing you as well so this came as a very pleasant surprise to him.
Unable to help it, he read the passage once more and let his gaze on the image of you linger a little longer, feeling arousal crawl up his body. He had caught you staring at him here and there, when going for a swim in the summer or when he read a book, when you didn’t think he would notice. He had never given much thought to it though. He would have never guessed that you had thought about him, dreamed about him.
He needed a few to gather himself, to brace himself for what was to come. He couldn’t let this slide just like that now that he knew that you felt the same for him. Now that he knew what you were craving. And he wanted to give you exactly that. All night if you wanted to. He wanted to give you the pleasure that you deserved, see you writhing underneath his fingers, calling out his name so that everyone could hear what he did to you.
A mischievous grin passed over his face. He would take care of that wish of yours, as a Christmas gift. That he promised to himself and gathered all of his confidence for. His heartbeat was going through the roof but he didn’t want you to know, and tried to keep a calm face.
You peeked out once more as he closed the book. You tried to read his face, but there was nothing to work with. Had your friendship been ruined already? Would he just leave and never say a word to you ever again? You expected the worst, already feeling tears prick in your eyes.
Namjoon slowly got up from the armchair and now you were sure he would leave the apartment. You felt embarrassment, shame, and regret overwhelm you. But there was something in you that fought back. Your eyes grew big, you couldn’t just let him go like this. “Namjoon, I-“
But he cut you off mid-sentence. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” He shook his head, putting the book down on the table and shoved it over towards you. Your gaze fell back to the image of you, a moaning mess in the bed. You couldn’t handle looking at it and instead gazed up at Namjoon and being met with an expression that you hadn’t expected at all.
He looked like a boy who had gotten the biggest present for Christmas, but there was also something a lot less innocent in his eyes. Holding your gaze, he came back over to the couch and crouched in front of you.
“You’ve been –“ He swallowed visibly, nervousness getting the best of him for a second, before he proceeded with confidence “–a very naughty girl, Y/N, haven’t you?” He cocked an eyebrow while putting both of his hands next to your legs that rested on the edge of the couch.
A shiver ran down your spine at his words. Never had you imagined that Namjoon would speak like this to you. You could not say much, your throat going dry, and just slowly nodded your head.
“Hmm, thought so,” he answered while letting his gaze wander over your form. “Well, what do we do about that? Naughty girls need to be punished, right?” His eyes drifted back to your face, satisfied he took notice of the effect he had on you. How your legs unconsciously rubbed together at his every movement.
With the heat rising from you, he felt drawn to you.
“But I think you’ve been pretty nice this year. I think we leave the punishment for another day and instead–“ He nodded towards the book, referring to the description of your dream under the picture. “– keep working on this.” He turned back towards you. “What do you think, Y/N?”
His words were music in your ears. This was more than you could wish for. You pinched yourself for a second, making sure it wasn’t another dream of yours, that you hadn’t just fallen asleep again in your bed. But it was as real as it could get. Arousal is already pooling in your panties, Namjoon’s deep voice resounding in your head.
By now, he was drawing small, soft circles on the skin of your thigh, patiently waiting for your answer. He wouldn’t do anything about it as long as you hadn’t given your consent. There was still a little voice inside of him that wasn’t sure if you really felt the same. He had no time to think too much about it though.
You cleared your throat, the effect he had on you clear as day. “I’d… love that.” You shyly answered, carefully putting a hand on Namjoon’s cheek. He leaned into your touch immediately, closing his eyes for a second to enjoy the feeling of the gentle action.
He pushed himself up a little, his face hovering in front of yours. You held your breath, excited for what was to come. He was even closer than before. You could feel puffs of his hot breath gently caressing your lips. His eyes kept yours caged, his pupils blown looking like black holes that swallowed you to take you to another dimension.
With his hand moving up to the side of your neck, it gingerly brushed against the skin and he left it at the nape of your neck. His face inched closer, barely any space left between your lips now. Your thumb grazed over his cheek, the skin underneath warm and tender. You could stay like this forever.
“May… may I kiss you?” Namjoon asked, gaze drifting between your shining eyes and your tempting lips. You took his breath away, making him weak in the knees. Why hadn’t he confessed to you sooner? He could have had it all already. You had both missed out on so much. But there was still so much time to make up for it all.
It took all of your willpower to not kiss him right then and there, but to answer his question first. You looked deep into his eyes, “Yes, I beg you to.”
And that was all that was needed for Namjoon to desperately press his lips against yours without hesitating for even a second. Both of you closed your eyes, relishing in the moment of the first kiss shared between the two of you. It was not at all how you had expected it to feel but so much more. Your heart took a leap at his soft lips that moved so lovingly against yours while his thumb stroked your neck, goosebumps rising on your skin.
Namjoon had to take a break to catch his breath, soft laughter escaping his lips. His hand remained at the back of your neck and so did yours on his cheek. But this break didn’t last long because both of you were already hungry for more. Your other hand went into his hair while your mouth landed back on his.
Tugging a little at the strands, he couldn’t help but let out a quiet moan, his lips opening to the kiss. His tongue darted out, tapping against your lower lip and begging for entrance. You let him stew a little until both of your tongues met in a heated battle.
Slowly, Namjoon could feel himself getting hard. Your sweet lips got the best of him and he couldn’t do anything against it when his mind imagined them wrapped around his cock. He could feel it twitch in his pyjama pants, begging for attention. But Namjoon wanted for you to cum first. The outlook of getting to taste you with his tongue between your folds was too promising.
In fact, he didn’t want to wait any longer. As much as he enjoyed making out with you, he wanted to dig into the real fun. He broke the kiss, pressing his forehead softly against yours. This time you had to catch your breath.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Y/N?” Namjoon whispered softly, asking for your permission to go on.
You pecked his lips adoringly. “I mean I’ve been dreaming about it.” Both of you chuckled lightly, caressing each other’s skin. “I couldn’t wish for more this Christmas.” You had to stifle a laugh. This was the most interesting Christmas you had ever had. And you loved it.
Namjoon made his way over to your ear with featherlight kisses to nibble on your earlobe before he hushed into your ear, making you shiver at the nickname he used for you, “I want you to tell me if you feel uncomfortable, baby girl.”
“I will,” you breathed back, enjoying the shivers that ran down your spine as Namjoon’s breath tickled your skin. You buzzed with excitement, awaiting his treatment.
“Okay, baby girl,” he moved down from your ear to your neck, nipping at the skin and grazing his teeth over your shoulder a little. “I can’t wait to taste you.”
While your breathing got heavier at these few words already, he gently pushed your thighs apart with his hands, his upper body moving in the space in between to have better access to your neck. His hands wandered over your inner thighs, setting your skin on fire and your blood boiling.
Another quiet moan escaped your mouth. It all felt just too heavenly. And it made Namjoon proud to know he was making you feel good. You deserved it and he was ready to give it to you for the rest of your life if it meant he would hear your sweet little moans.
As he nibbled lightly on your neck, his hands crawled up your shirt, pushing it up over your chest. His mouth unlatched to attach itself again to one of your nipples immediately, drawing sloppy circles around it. While one of his hands held up the shirt, the other sweetly caressed your other breast, brushing against the sensitive bud and making it stand up, aroused.
Throwing your head back, you pushed your upper body into Namjoon’s face. The treatment he blessed you with was paradisiac. If it was up to you, he could do that for the rest of eternity. Still, there was one place where you needed him a lot more…
“Joonie.” His nickname left your lips in a faint, breathless hush. He let out a breathy moan against your nipple. God, now his mind would forever replay this moment and your needy plea whenever someone would call him by this nickname. You were his rise and his fall.
He pecked your nipple one last time before looking up from in between your breasts with hooded eyes. “Yes, baby girl?”
“I need you,” you breathed out, hands still playing with his soft hair.
He cocked his head, one of his eyebrows rising. “Need me how?”
You let out a quiet, frustrated sigh. He knew exactly how, teasing you in a vulnerable moment. With your cheeks heating up, you looked away for a second. This was still very unchartered territory to you.
Feeling one of his hands back on your cheek, he tilted your head to look at him. Eyes full of genuity, he softly told you, “You don’t need to be ashamed when you’re with me. You can freely tell me what you want because I want to make you feel good.” He took your hand and pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, softly muttering against your skin, “I want you to feel safe with me.”
It was easy to tell he was being serious and honest. How did you deserve this man? You mouthed a quiet ‘thank you’ to him, feeling more at ease now. And it gave you the confidence to state your desire.
“Joonie… I need your mouth on me and your tongue in me, please,” you begged as you didn’t break off the eye contact. His eyes lit up at your words and he nodded eagerly, pressing one more kiss on your knuckles before he let your hand go.
“If you need something to hold onto, my hair is as good as anything else,” Namjoon told you, winking at you saucily before levelling his head with your clothed core. You held in a breath as he put a featherlight kiss to your inner thigh before nipping on the smooth skin.
His hands wandered over your lower legs towards your waist where they played with the hem of your pyjama shorts, ghosting over your skin. He could smell your wetness and it drove him crazy. He was just as riled up as you were.
He looked up from between your legs, giving you a very similar view as your dream had. You still couldn’t believe that this was all actually happening.
“Baby girl? Could you do me a favor?” His hands slipped back under your shirt for a second, drawing soft circles on your lower back.
You nodded eagerly, willing to do anything as long as he’d continue his exploration down your pants.
“Could you lift your hips for me a little?” He nodded towards your hips. “We need to get these out of the way.”
You obeyed his request, leaning back while lifting up your hips from the couch. All you wanted was his mouth on you.
Namjoon sucked in a breath, preparing himself for the view he was about to get. He had dreamed of that moment many, many times. In the shower when the thoughts of you got over his head, in bed when he had had another vivid dream of you in his arms.
He gently pulled down both your pyjama shorts and your panties, dragging them slowly over your legs to fully enjoy this moment. The clothing items in question hit one of the snowmen in the face as Namjoon carelessly threw them over his shoulder.
You felt the cold air hit your sensitive skin, dragging in a breath as it came in contact with the rough material of the couch. You needed release desperately right now, even little things like these throwing you off. You sank back into the couch a little.
Heartbeat strumming in his ears, Namjoon’s gaze wandered between your legs, laying eyes on your glistening folds for the first time. It was a sight to behold, at least for him. “Fuck, Y/N,” he muttered under his breath, dragging one hand through his hair while lowering back down between your legs.
“Let me make you feel good,” he whispered while pushing his arms under your legs and pulling them up on his shoulders so he could get better access. You relaxed your upper body on the backrest while shifting your hips up to the edge of the couch so that not only you were comfortable, but it would also be easier for Namjoon.
He gave you one last smile before pressing his head between your legs, his hair pleasantly tickling the inner skin of your thighs. You could feel hot puffs of breath hitting your sensitive folds, making you shiver around him. He hummed lightly, pleased at your reaction.
With his hands gently holding down your thighs, he pressed soft kisses around your pussy, nipping at the skin here and there and biting down softly. He closed his eyes, savoring the last moment before he would get to taste you.
With one hand holding you up, you entangled the other back into his hair, threading through the strands. Your soft gasps filled the air, encouraging Namjoon on.
Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, dropping a sloppy kiss onto your pussy. Tongue darting out between his lips, he took a long lick along your glistening folds. You tasted so good, he was glad that you would be the first meal of his day besides the coffee.
A strangled moan reached his hair and he opened his eyes to watch you throw your head back in pleasure. You looked like a goddess in the dim light of the morning and the fairy lights, the sinful image burned into his mind forever.
One of his hands reached around your leg to spread your folds for him, your clit coming into view. He latched his mouth onto it, sucking it in like a starved man.
Waves of pleasure rolled over you, feet pressing down on Namjoon’s back. If he kept this up, you would be falling apart in mere minutes. Your hands tugged on his hair, urging him to continue his treatment of your pussy. “Don’t stop,” you breathed out.
He replaced his lips with his thumb, caressing your bundle of nerves while his mouth moved further down. His tongue hungrily lapped at your walls, desperate to catch every taste it could get.
Your hips moved on your own as they pressed themselves against his face willingly, desperate for a release. You could feel your orgasm slowly approaching as Namjoon worked his magic on you.
As his tongue found your entrance, he slowly pushed it inside, before swirling it around a little. You gasped for air as you could feel it massaging your walls, back arching up from the couch. After letting you adjust to the feeling of his tongue inside you, he started darting it in and out at a rapid pace, thumb still fumbling your clit.
His nickname fell from your lips like a waterfall, wonderful music to his ears. You begged him not to stop, promises of you being close spurred him on, going down on you even faster. He could feel his rock-hard cock straining against his pyjama pants, begging to be released. But it was not yet the time.
He needed you to cum all over his tongue first and, hell, he would make sure of that. Feeling your walls contracting around his tongue, he put a little more pressure on your clit, circling and rubbing it gently with his fingers, trying to take you over the edge. You were almost there, he could feel it.
“Joonie, fuck, I am-” The sentence got lost between a heavy mess of moans and whimpers as you finally came with one last stroke around Namjoon’s tongue. You closed your eyes, orgasm blazing through your body in pleasurable waves.
Namjoon lapped up everything he could get, guiding you through your orgasm. As the moans and the whimpers lessened, his mouth, albeit grudgingly, detached from your folds, pressing one last kiss to your inner thigh before he looked up about you through his lashes.
As you looked down, you were met with a very vivid image of your last night’s dream as Namjoon’s skin glowed from your juices that were smeared all around his mouth. His hair had fallen into his eyes, not able to hide the playful glint in his eyes. His cheeks were a flushed red, chest heaving for air.
“That was… amazing,” you whispered as you cupped his cheek, thumb caressing the hot skin. You leaned over him, stealing a kiss and tasting yourself on his tongue. “Thank you.”
Namjoon chuckled lightly, taking pride in making you feel so good. He nuzzled his face in your neck, breathing in your delicate scent. “I think we both actually have someone else to thank.” Both of your gazes fell onto the book that still laid open on the coffee table.
You grinned from ear to ear at his words. “Well, thank you, Santa, I guess then? For helping us idiots?” Both of you couldn’t hold in your laughter at the situation. What a naughty Christmas it had been for sure!
Quietness settled over the two of you for a minute as you enjoyed each other’s company. As Namjoon slowly got up from his kneeling position, you noticed his hard manhood through his pants. Licking your lips, you felt yourself getting wet again. Your hunger for Namjoon had only just awakened.
“How about… a shower?” you proposed, cocking a head at Namjoon. “I think it’s time I’ll take care of you.” Pushing yourself up from the couch, you let your hands roam freely over his upper body.
Namjoon snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you against him. “As if I could say no to that.” You could feel his cock through the soft fabric of his pants pressing against your thigh. Namjoon leaned down, his lips against your ear.
“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he whispered as he softly started kissing you again under the shining lights of the fairy lights and a mistletoe magically grew down from the ceiling. Santa has his way in fulfilling wishes…
© nottodayjjk 2021 - all rights reserved.
#nottodayjjk#xmas in july#christmas in july#a hoeliday well spent#namjoon x reader#namjoon x female reader#namjoon au#namjoon humor#namjoon fluff#namjoon smut#namjoon romance#namjoon fanfic#namjoon oneshot#knj au#knj smut#knj romance#knj fluff#knj#knj humor#knj x reader#thebtswritersclub
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A New Life
Part Four: A Day at the Zoo
Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader
Words: 2,790
Warning: Fluff, Self-Esteem Issues, Body Image Issues
The following morning, Cillian picked you and Max up from your house at 8 o’clock after having borrowed a car seat from Cian.
‘Thank you for taking us to the Zoo, Cillian’ Max said excitedly as Cillian helped him into his seat.
‘That’s alright buddy’ Cillian said and you couldn’t help but be a little bit excited. Whilst you never liked going to the Zoo, you liked the fact that you and Max got to spend the day with Cillian.
He had a fantastic sense of humour and Max really seemed to like him which put you at ease quite significantly.
After Max and you sat down in the car, Cillian opened two of the windows slightly and told you that he had put some sickie bags and wet wipes into the glove box for Max just in case you needed them. Another thing he remembered was that Max often got car sick and he certainly didn’t seem to be bothered by it. In fact, he was quite well prepared.
To your surprise, Max did well in the car and was fascinated with some of the gadgets, including the TV screens in the back.
‘Made it without Max getting sick. That’s new. Thank you for taking it easy around the corners’ you said, causing Cillian to laugh.
‘You are welcome’ Cillian said before helping Max out of the car and picking up his plush bunny toy which had fallen to the floor.
‘That’s one well loved rabbit’ Cillian observed as he looked at the rather old and half destroyed fluffy toy and you explained to him that Max had this bunny since he’s been a baby. In fact, Cian had bought it for him when you were still pregnant with Max.
***
After twenty minutes, two cinnamon donuts and a take away coffee, you finally arrived at the tiger enclosure.
‘I can’t see, I can’t see’ Max said somewhat disappointed as the tiger was roaming around from the left to the right and he was simply too small to look over the larger children in front of him.
‘Sweetie, you are too heavy for me to pick up’ you said as Max pulled on your t-shirt and began to pout.
‘I can put him up on my shoulders if you want’ Cillian suggested, ensuring that you would be okay with it before saying anything to Max.
Of course, you had no objections and Max was quick to climb onto Cillian’s shoulders so that he could see the tiger, still walking from the left to the right and roaming around his enclosure.
‘Max, careful!’ you said worryingly as he was clinging onto Cillian’s hair but Cillian didn’t seem to mind.
Taking you by the hand for a brief second to pull through the crowds, Cillian moved over to the left slightly to give Max a better view and you followed him while watching Max smile with excitement.
‘Have you counted how many stripes he’s got?’ Cillian then asked your son.
‘Too many for me to count Cillian’ Max laughed before Cillian told him about the tiger, reading from the sign in front of him and asking Max questions in order to keep him engaged.
You were truly surprised how well Cillian and Max were getting on and how patient and engaging Cillian was with him.
‘Elephants next?’ Cillian asked as, eventually, the tiger went into his little cave for a rest and Max nodded.
Without Max getting down from Cillian’s shoulders, you both walked towards the Elephant enclosure.
‘Can you tell me what sounds an elephant makes?’ Cillian asked and, when Max and Cillian both pretended to be elephants, you couldn’t help but laugh.
The entire day was a blast and, for the first time in a long while, you and Max both felt comfortable being around someone new. It felt like you both had known Cillian for a long time and you were quite impressed by his character.
‘What a lovely family’ you then heard all of a sudden as one elderly women in the crowd walked past you and, whilst Cillian wanted to correct her, you simply said ‘thanks’ and laughed.
***
After your day at the zoo, Max fell asleep in the car fairly quickly and whilst you were keen to take up Cillian’s offer to have dinner in town, you didn’t think that Max would be up for it. He had a big day.
‘I am not sure if Max is up for dinner in town. He’s tuckered out completely’ you said, looking back towards him.
‘I figured that he would be tired after all this walking around’ Cillian chuckled ‘But, if you want to, I can cook something at your house instead and we can watch a movie with Max’ Cillian offered.
‘You can cook?’ you asked since no man had ever cooked for you before.
‘You seem surprised’ Cillian observed, causing you to laugh and nod before accepting his offer.
‘I suppose spaghetti would be winner, right?’ Cillian then asked and you nodded again before asking a question which you have been pondering on about for the entire day.
‘You are so good with Max. How come you never had children?’ you asked before telling Cillian that he didn’t have to answer this question if he didn’t want to.
‘My ex-wife never wanted children and I had to accept that I suppose’ Cillian explained.
‘How long were you married for?’ you then asked.
‘Ten years. But we were together for fifteen. I had one relationship after that, but it was a disaster’ Cillian chuckled and you talked about his marriage and why it ended before Cillian carefully and quietly asked about Max’s father.
You told Cillian that he had died in a car accident when Max was only two years old and that Max didn’t remember much about him.
‘We had our differences but were determined to make it work for Max. We were high school sweethearts and met when we were 16’ you explained, thinking back to all the irrational choices you made in the past.
***
An hour later, you arrived at your apartment following a small detour to the local supermarket.
‘Cillian is making us spaghetti’ you said to Max while you helped unpack the grocery bags.
‘It’s my favourite. Can I have lots of cheese please?’ Max then asked and, of course, you nodded before telling him to play in his room while you were going to help with the food.
Cillian pre-prepared the food for later with your help before you all sat down together and watched a cartoon movie which almost sent Cillian to sleep. His eyes kept shutting closed as he leaned against the large cushion on the L-shaped lounge and you had to give him a nudge now and then to make him stay awake.
Luckily, Max lost interest in the movie after thirty minutes and asked Cillian whether he wanted to see his dinosaur collection.
Sure enough, Cillian was very interested in dinosaurs and, after they managed to give each of the toys a name, you played two games of UNO before serving dinner.
‘This is much better than mum’s spaghetti’ Max observed, causing you to pout and Cillian to apologise.
‘It is pretty good’ you observed before thanking Cillian for cooking and taking you both to the zoo.
‘We had a fantastic day, didn’t we Max?’ you said and Max nodded and yawned at the same time.
***
‘I probably should drive home soon’ Cillian said after you cleaned up the dishes and Max had changed himself into his pyjamas.
‘Do you want to stay for a wine and watch a more interesting movie after I put Max to bed?’ you then quickly asked, hoping that you wouldn’t sound too desperate.
‘I suppose I could leave the car here and pick it up tomorrow’ Cillian then said, not intending to drink and drive and you nodded in agreement.
Cillian’s house was only 20 minutes by foot from your apartment and he could easily call a taxi or sleep on your lounge if he didn’t want to walk.
‘Can Cillian read me a bedtime story then?’ Max asked, clearly having overheard your conversation.
‘If that’s alright with your mum, I sure can’ Cillian offered which prompted Max to quickly find a book and his favourite bunny toy.
Listening to Cillian read a bedtime story to Max made your heart melt once again. Not only did you think that Cillian was an incredibly kind person who was good with children, but also was he rather attractive.
Quite to your surprise, you adored the small wrinkles around his eyes and the few grey hairs on his head as his hair was growing out on the sides.
Then, of course, there were those deep blue eyes and razor-sharp cheek bones and you wondered what your mind was doing to you, feeling some sort of attraction towards a man who was clearly much older than you.
***
‘Thank you for reading to him’ you said when Cillian came back into the living and you tugged Max into bed and gave him a goodnight kiss.
‘That’s perfectly fine Y/N’ Cillian assured you before sitting down while you poured two glasses of red wine.
‘So what are we watching?’ he asked and you suggested to put something on which has him in it after Cian told you that one of Cillian’s shows was on Netflix.
You had only just signed up to Netflix when you came to Ireland as, frankly, working on TV made you less interested in watching it during your spare time but, now that you were taking some time off after having resigned as a host from one of Australia’s design shows after your ex’s constant publicly stunts, this has changed.
You hadn’t seen any of Cillian’s work yet and you certainly didn’t know much about him. Unlike he did with you, you haven’t resorted to Google yet to find out more, wanting to paint your own picture about him and not being influenced by media.
‘Absolutely not. I hate watching myself’ Cillian chuckled before suggesting a different movie on Netflix. His comment made you laugh.
‘I get that. I hate watching myself too’ you chuckled and, after he turned on the movie, it didn’t take you long to get comfortable together on your small sofa and you quite enjoyed sitting so closely next to him.
As you were sitting next to him, you couldn’t help but notice the scent of his aftershave which was musky but yet fresh and sporty. Glancing over towards him without him noticing, you quickly got mesmerised with his freckled skin and you couldn’t help your eyes from wandering further down, observing his neck and the small area of exposed skin above the neckline of his t-shirt.
Clearly, he had a little bit of chest hair. Or was it a lot? You were curious as you thought that, the way it extended above the neckline of his t-shirt looked quite sexy.
Your fixation on Cillian’s skin and scent, however, soon came to an end when you received a text message from one of your closest friends in Australia.
In her text message, she linked an article from an Australian tabloid and, whilst you knew that you should probably ignore it, you couldn’t help but click on the link.
When you opened the link you couldn’t believe your eyes. Clearly, your ex-partner had shared your last holiday pictures to a water theme park in Australia’s Northern Territory and they were far from flattering.
Cillian immediately noticed that something was wrong and paused the movie before asking you whether you were alright as tears had built up in your eyes.
‘My ex is making my life miserable’ you huffed out before telling Cillian about the unflattering pictures and comments from the tabloids.
According to the online magazine you should have chosen your outfit better to hide your scars and the publisher criticised that you were hosting a design show while, according to him, you obviously didn’t care much about your own appearances.
‘Can I see?’ Cillian asked and, whilst you were almost ashamed to show him, you did, knowing that it was on the world wide web anyway.
You saw Cillian’s eyebrows rise as he read through the article before, suddenly, he started laughing.
‘What an eejit’ he chuckled and you looked at him somewhat confused.
‘Irish for idiot’ Cillian clarified before carrying on. ‘Look, these people obviously have nothing better to do than to criticise humans for being human. You wore a bikini on a water slide. Seems logical to me. I mean what else would you wear when you visit a water park in a country where it’s so fucking hot?’ Cillian said, handing you back your phone.
‘That’s not the point Cillian. My ex knows how self-conscious I am. He continuously used to put me down and, ever since my emergency c-section when I had Max, I have been trying very hard to hide my body. Obviously, I was right to do so. I mean look at this shit now’ you said rather upset.
‘Y/N, you need to stop being so hard on yourself. You are a very attractive woman and any man out there would be lucky to have you. Despite, from what I just saw, there is nothing wrong with your body. You are stunning. You’ve got a few scars, so what?’ Cillian said reassuringly while taking your hands into his.
‘And a little baby weight I never managed to get rid of’ you chuckled and, whilst you knew it wasn’t really a big deal, you felt as though, being in the public eye required you to look perfect at all times.
‘You are perfect Y/N. You really cannot let this stuff get to you and you should tell your friend not to bother sending these things to you either’ Cillian said, knowing very well what reading bad press feels like.
‘So, you actually don’t care when you read something bad about yourself?’ you asked, not realising how much press Cillian had to deal with in comparison to you.
‘I gave up caring about twenty years ago’ Cillian chuckled. ‘You should too. It feels better that way’ he then said and you couldn’t agree more. You knew you had to care less but, the truth was, you had realised that this life wasn’t for you.
‘That’s why I gave up TV and advertising. I just want to concentrate on writing and the other things I’ve been working on’ you explained before changing the topic to something more pleasant which was your upcoming theatre date and trip to Kerry.
When you mentioned your upcoming trip to Kerry, Cillian told you that Cian invited him and Laura as well and you couldn’t help but laugh.
‘So, Laura…do you like her?’ you asked.
‘She is nice I guess. But, I honestly am not interested in a relationship or dating right now’ Cillian told you before advising you that he would have to head home soon. He had an early start.
***
By the time Cillian had left it was already 9 o ‘clock and you decided to have a bath and then head into bed as well.
For a minute or two, you pondered on about the article that had been published in Australia but, then, you remembered Cillian’s words. You had to ignore them.
Instead of dwelling on about them, you felt as though you wanted to know a little more about Cillian. Until this point, you had refused to google him but you realised that you didn’t even know his surname nor did you know how old he was and you certainly didn’t want to sound weird, asking him or Cian those things.
You tried your luck putting the words ‘Cillian’, ‘Actor’ and ‘Irish’ into the search tab as, surely, there couldn’t be too many actors with his name out there.
To your surprise, his name and pictures of him popped up immediately. You didn’t have to do much investigation and you were quite shocked to see his extensive filmography.
Even more so, you were surprised by the fact that he had just recently turned 45.
‘How the fuck can this man be 45 already?’ you asked yourself silently and couldn’t help yourself flicking through the many pictures.
Going through them one by one, you realised again how handsome he was and whilst you were certainly attracted to him, the fact that he was rather famous turned you off and made it much easier for you to turn off your attraction towards him. At least so you thought.
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"Ice Cold", a Leon Kennedy x reader fanfiction
As an Art and Design student all you want to do is just knuckle down and finish that one goddamn piece you've been working on for months. Too bad your time is constantly stolen by your Waiter job with minimal pay, but hey, at least the tips are good if you unbutton your shirt that one more time.
Masterlist
Chapter 6: The Bar
“You have to be kidding me right now!” You couldn't believe what you were hearing. “It was the first time I haven’t shown up to work, I always did my job exactly how you wanted me to and this is your thanks? I told you what happened and you don't even care at all! I was literally unconscious and in shock after what occurred that day.” You exclaimed and shook your head, not believing what you were hearing.
“I'm truly sorry, but you know how we handle things here. I'm sure a young and outgoing person like you will find a new job without any problems. We will send you the money for the last days you were working. Now, if you will excuse me, I’ve got a restaurant to take care of.” Your boss, well ex-boss, went through the door and left you standing in his office in disbelief. You picked up all your personal items before then heading to the front door. You looked around once more, thinking about all the years you were working here. You said one last goodbye to your coworkers before heading out the door, leaving this part of your life behind.
You went to your own car - finally having a driver's license after Leon made sure you got your private lessons - ready to drive home. But as you were sitting down you realized that that wasn't what you really wanted. The best thing to do now was to see Leon, so that's exactly where you were going.
You pulled into Leon’s driveway and parked in front of the front door. “I didn’t know you were going to be here today.” Angel greeted you as you stepped out of the car.
“Neither did I.” You answered and walked to the door, letting yourself in. You found Leon in the kitchen and he was leaning over a bottle of whiskey. “Leon?” You raised an eyebrow, thinking it was kind of early to drink but didn't say anything to him.
You must have scared him as he shot up to look at you. He looked rough, his hair was a mess and his grey clothes were stained. “Buttercup!” He smiled as he walked over to you. “I didn’t know you were coming over today, I thought you were at work.” He planted a kiss on your forehead and rubbed your arms.
“I got fired.” You simply blurted out, rather than trying to avoid it. “Since I didn’t go to work that one day last week my boss seriously wasn’t happy.” You lightly waved Leon off of you and sat down at the kitchen counter. “I’ve never missed a day for like three years but one day! One day! Is enough to get me fired.” You placed your head in your hands and groaned.
“Well fuck that guy.” He pulled a cereal box out of a cupboard under the kitchen island and placed it into a bowl.
“Fuck that guy…” You replied. “Now I need to waste the next week of my life trying to find a new job.
Leon finally put some milk into the bowl too. “You’re a college student, you don’t need a full time job.” He placed the bowl in front of you as you looked up at him. “Eat up, Buttercup.”
You looked down at the cereal and you pushed it around with your spoon. “I’m not really hungry, Leon.” You pushed the bowl back towards him and you brushed your hair with your hand. “It’s not that I need a job, I just like having one, it keeps me busy and the extra money never hurts.”
“But wasn’t the pay terrible?” He raised his eyebrow as he began to eat your food. “And super sexual? Your co-worker Mimi told me about how you would unbutton your shirt and wear super tight pants so that the customers would tip you more…”
“True.” You admitted. “So I’ll look for something different. Maybe I can be a personal assistant like Angel and Daisy.”
“They’re more than just assistants y’know.” Leon continued to eat. “Those two have joined me on a job, saved my life once or twice.”
“It’s four in the afternoon, why are you eating cereal?” You eventually asked.
“We don’t have any food, Angel wasn’t able to go shopping this morning.” He said as he placed his empty bowl in the sink. “How about an office job?”
“That’s a bit boring, dontcha think?”
“Umm. How about that internship you were going for?”
“I still have three months left of college, once I'm done with that and I have the grades for it, I can apply.” You admitted as you got off the bar stool, not having eaten any of the food Leon gave you. Leon watched you while you were filling your glass with water and some ice to cool down. You drank it and watched Leon do the same, just with his glass of whiskey. “Isn't it a little too early to drink?” The words left your mouth before you were even thinking about it. Now it was Leon's turn to raise an eyebrow at your comment.
“Are you my mom or what now? I think I know when or when I cannot have a drink.” He snapped at you, which really surprised you.
"Obviously I am not. But that's not really responsible of you, is it? I just don't get it, why you're drinking at this time and so often in general the past weeks." You thought about what you were saying, realizing his drinking behavior dates back to the first time you even met. "I get that your job isn't easy and stuff but day drinking? Really? Seems kind of low to me, Leon."
Leon let out a laugh and shook his head. "If all you want to do now is complain you can leave. That's not what I wanted you here for."
You looked at him again with big eyes. "So you don't wanna talk? I don't know what it is that’s between us, but it can't always be good and fun. I'm literally just worried about your health!"
"Worried? I think I know what's good for me much better than you do, I'm not the child here." He spat at you as he drank from his glass.
"So if you’re not ‘the child’ does that mean that I am?” You looked at him speechless. “That's how you see me? I understand that I'm a lot younger than you but I'm not a child! And just because I'm trying to talk about something serious? What is going on with you Leon?" He didn't even look at you. Instead he poured himself another drink and took a sip. You shook your head and let out a scoff. You then grabbed your jacket and went to the door. Before leaving you looked back to Leon, hoping he would apologize or stop you from leaving, instead you got nothing. You slammed the door behind you shut and you heard something break. “A fucking mansion and his front door cant even handle a slam..” You muttered to yourself as you went over to your car. Angrily you left his driveway and drove in the direction of home.
Your roommate was home for the holidays, leaving you in your apartment alone. Rather than sitting on the couch feeling sorry for yourself you tried to get some work done.
Looking for jobs was much harder than you remember. “Host. Nope. Grocery store worker. Eh, I guess that could work. Stripper?! Hm, if I'm desperate enough, maybe…” You spent hours looking and applying to jobs, most of them being just over minimum wage but any money is better than none.
Eventually you gave up and just began to watch TV on your laptop, endlessly flicking through the channels available to you. Since none of it looked interesting you put on something random and picked up your sketchbook. As the noise played in the background and your pencil ran across the paper your eyelids became heavier and heavier, those combined with the fact that it was now eleven at night.
The sound of your phone vibrating on your wooden desk ripped you from your sleep. At first you ignored it, being far too tired to want to actually open your eyes. It started to vibrate again. You rubbed your eyes, trying to see clearly in the dark and waking yourself up. You looked at your phone confused, wondering who wanted you so late at night. You unlocked it and looked at the time first. “Almost two in the morning... damn”, you muttered to yourself. After that you checked your notification and let out a sigh. Multiple messages from Leon just in the past few hours you were asleep. You didn't even bother looking at them, knowing that he was drunk. Most of the messages didn't even make sense and there was no way to read or understand them. Before locking the phone again, an unknown number called you. Unsure about who it could be, you waited for the call to end. But soon after the same number called again. You let out a sigh, answering the call. "Hello? Can I help you?" You asked tiredly. You didn't recognize the voice talking to you, but you could hear Leon mumbling in the background. The person told you something about Leon being totally wasted and that he requested for you to come and pick him up. Unsure about what to do, especially after the argument you had earlier, you still agreed to picking him up. You ended the call and put your phone away. Putting your head in your hands, you let out another sigh and shook your head. You quickly went to your kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, needing caffeine otherwise you would fall asleep before you even got to Leon.
As you grabbed your jacket, phone and coffee you looked at your car keys and shoved them into your pocket. You knew you couldn’t take your car as you didn’t want to leave it at the bar considering it was twenty miles from home. “Why couldn’t he have gone to a local bar?”
You waited outside in the rain for a taxi to come and pick you up. You’d be sure to charge this cost on Leon’s credit card.
Faint music was in the background as you walked through the door to ‘Billy’s Bar’ and it only took you a second to find Leon. “Buttercup!” He waved and blew a kiss at you the second he spotted you.
“Hey Leon.” You somewhat smiled as you sat down next to him at the bar. “What mess have you gotten yourself into?” You muttered as you waved over the bartender, them giving you the bill. “How can you rack up eighty dollars in one night?”
You searched Leon’s pockets for his wallet but came up empty. “Woah there Buttercup, let’s go home first before you start to pull my pants off.” You simply rolled your eyes at his drunk comment.
You groaned as you gave up the search for his wallet and eventually you just placed your own stack of cash on the bar, giving a little extra for the bartender as a tip. “Come on.” You got off the stool. “Let’s get you home.” Leon got off his stool and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, giving you a kiss on your forehead. “Jesus Leon, don’t do that…” You wiped the kiss off of you and shook your head as the two of you left the bar and into the pouring rain. “Keys?” You held out your hand and he placed his keys in your palm. The keys to one of his fancy cars that you don't even know the name of but you were pretty sure that it was an Audi of some sort. It had four doors and four wheels, good enough.
“I can drive Butterc- cup.” He hiccuped as he talked, proving just how much he shouldn’t drive.
“I’ll be fine…” You clicked the keys and the lights on the car flashed. You took Leon to the passenger side of the car and forced him off of you as you opened the door for him. He leant on the roof to help himself into his seat and you then closed the door behind him. “Alright, it’s just like my car… just a lot quicker and a lot more expensive…” You mumbled to yourself as you hopped in the driver’s seat and started the engine. The loud roar was enough to make you almost pee yourself due to your nerves.
You gripped your hands on the steering wheel and put the car into drive. The car immediately shot forward and you instantly slammed on the breaks, causing Leon to bash his face on the dashboard. “Oh fuck!” You put the car into park and looked at Leon’s nose. “I’m so sorry.” You carefully brushed your hand on his nose and luckily it didn’t feel as if it was broken.
“I’m fine…” Leon’s eyes rolled back in his head and he leant back in his seat. You simply huffed at him and leant over him, grabbing his seatbelt. As you went back to your seat you sighed at him as you looked at him sleeping.
You buckled your own seatbelt and started the car again, now more carefully. You checked all the buttons and hoped for the best as you left the parking spot slowly. Before you stepped on the gas once more to drive onto the street you looked over to Leon, who was now half asleep. Just sometimes he looked up again or out the window without saying anything. Which was probably better because he wouldn't say anything useful anyway in his state. You drove on the main street and gripped the wheel, concentrating on the dark and rainy road before you. You tried putting on some music but soon shut it off again because it just irritated you. So you just drove around silently trying to find a way to Leon's house. Every now and then Leon muttered something, more to himself than to you. You shook your head blaming yourself for his behavior. Letting out a sigh you concentrated on the road again and silently went on.
You drove for around five minutes before Leon began to get bored. “Buttercup?”
“Hey Leon…” You replied to him, keeping your eyes on the road because you didn’t want to swerve into a ditch.
“You’re the best.” You could see him smile at you in the corner of your eye. He held out his hand and you simply ignored it. “Please?” He wiggled his fingers, wanting you to hold his hand. You scoffed as you dropped your right hand from the wheel, placing your hand in his. “I love you, Buttercup.” He smiled at you again but you simply ignored it.
“You’re drunk, Leon.” You took your hand back from him, in annoyance.
You wanted him to say that he loved you, but not like this, not in a drunk slur. “I’m serious.”
"Yea, sure you are." You rolled your eyes and looked straight to the street, not giving him anymore attention.
"You're so mean, Buttercup." He began whining like a little child which made you laugh sarcastically.
"You’re behaving like a child now, Leon. I told you earlier today that it doesn't have anything to do with ages." You shook your head, thinking about the argument from earlier.
"I'm sorryyy..for snapping at you like that earlier.. do you forgive me? Pleaseeee Buttercup.." You raised your eyebrow at his apology, not thinking much of it.
"I can't forgive you when all you do is lie when you’re drunk. Say sorry again when you're sober and we'll see." You felt him moving in his seat, now directly facing you. You gave him a short look and tried pushing him back into his seat. "Leon, please sit down correctly. I can't concentrate like this."
He had a smug smile on his face now. "Am I all you can concentrate on now?" Leon came closer to you and you backed up, now shoving him away with your right hand. The road in front of you was still slippery and dark and you couldn't drive like this. In a short motion you stepped on the brakes and stopped at the side of the street. Now facing Leon as well you tried pushing him back into his own seat, hoping he would leave you alone now. He still resisted and even though he was totally drunk he still was stronger than you. He grabbed your wrists and came closer to you, almost sitting on your lap now. You were able to keep some distance with your legs but it wasn't an easy task. "Buttercuuup.." He began again as he started playing with your fingers. "I'm serious.. I loveee you, since the first time I met you." You looked at him, searching his face. People always say that drunk people speak the truth but a part in you didn't want to believe it. Not because you didn't have feelings for Leon, but this whole situation seemed wrong to you. You realized it wouldn't get you far when arguing in this state so you just let him talk, not giving it much thought. Leon continued talking but he soon noticed you didn't even listen anymore. As soon as he came closer to you again you snapped back to reality.
You unfastened your seatbelt and got out of the car. You walked through the rain to Leon's side of the car and also opened his door. He looked at you confused but didn't say anything. You loosened his seatbelt and almost threw him out of his seat and out the car. He just about caught his balance, looking at you perplexed. You tried finding the right words but didn't even know what you were doing here. Leon leaned on the side of the car, already totally soaking wet. "Leon, I don't know what's going on with you but I can't continue driving when you keep on annoying me like that! So please just shut up or we're gonna stay out here until you're sober again, I don't care!" You shouted towards him, hoping he would even hear you through the loud and heavy rain. You came closer to him again, waiting for an answer. It seemed like hours passed, but Leon didn't say a thing. You groaned and opened the back door. You grabbed Leon's arm and pushed him inside. Overwhelmed by the sudden force, he fell into the backseat taking you with him. So now you lay on top of Leon, both of you totally wet. You felt Leon's warm breath and also the smell of alcohol. You suddenly felt hot and everything around you seemed to stop, all you saw was Leon. He looked you deep in the eyes and you into his. Without even thinking about it, you felt Leon's big hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer to his face. And the next thing you felt were his lips on yours. For a split second you leaned into the kiss, before realizing what was happening. In an instant you shot up and pushed yourself away from Leon. He looked at you, confused and heartbroken. "Leon. Let's just get you home now." You helped him put on a seatbelt without speaking another word and then went back to the driver's seat. The rest of the drive home neither of you spoke a word but every now and then you felt Leon staring at you from the back.
Finally you arrived at his home. Even though it was raining you could still make out the driveway and main door. You didn't bother parking the car in his garage, so you stopped in front of the door. You took the keys and before leaving the car you looked back at Leon. He wasn't asleep. He looked out the window, like most of the time during the ride. It reminded you of a child that wanted to stop at the local McDonald's but his parents didn't want to. You shook your head and tried hiding your smile. After that you left the car and also helped Leon out. Both of you didn't say a word as you walked to the door. Leon's arm was around your back for balance but you didn't mind it. It was better than letting him walk alone and him ending up injuring himself. You opened the front door, which was unlocked to your surprise. Apparently no one in this house thinks it could be possible that a thief would come here to say hello. You took off your own jacket which was totally drenched and hung it up. You then did the same for Leon, without any words exchanging either.
"I should probably get you something dry to wear. You're gonna get sick otherwise." You said more to yourself than to Leon but he still heard you and agreed.
"Let's.. just go upstairs and change there. It doesn't matter if the house gets dirty." Leon already started walking towards the stairs but you soon followed after noticing how he couldn't even walk straight. You then helped him upstairs and you went into the bathroom.
"I'll get you something to sleep in, just.. sit here and don't move. Can you do that for me?" He nodded silently and you left the room. You went into his bedroom and got some pajamas for him and also something for you to wear. As you entered the bathroom you found Leon sitting in the bathtub, naked. Even though you've seen him half naked before this wasn't what you wanted to see. Covering your eyes you threw his pajamas over. Obviously he didn't catch them so now they were lying next to him. "Jesus, Leon. What are you doing? I asked one thing of you and-"
"Sorry, Buttercup.. I just didn't want to freeze." He put his legs closer to him and rested his head on top of them. You shook your head and even though you didn't want to, you had to agree with him. You were also cold and wearing wet clothes didn't help. You sighed and looked at him. "Are you gonna shower by yourself or do you need help?" You felt like his caretaker right now but you also couldn't leave him hanging now. He looked at you with big eyes, which basically begged for you to help him. You sighed once again before walking over to him. You started the shower making sure it was warm enough. It was just a quick way of warming him up, not wanting to spend any more time with a naked and drunk Leon. After you were done you helped him out of the bathtub and put him into a towel. After drying him a little bit you helped him get into his pajamas and walked him into his bedroom. You watched him get into bed and before taking a shower yourself you saw him drifting off into a deep sleep. Closing the door behind you silently you went back into the bathroom and took a shower and changed into some of Leon's clothing. Nothing too special but at least it would keep you warm. After you put all the wet clothes away you went downstairs to try to get some sleep as well. You entered the living room and lay down on the big couch. Just a few minutes later you felt sleep take over and take you into a world of dreams.
You woke up the next morning to Angel's voice. "Hey there. Sorry to wake you up, I just wanted to see you before heading out again." You sat up and stretched, looking at Angel. "Thank you for bringing Leon home. I wasn't home yesterday and.. I'm sorry you had to see him like that." You shook your head, putting a hand on Angel's shoulder.
"Don't apologize for that. It's no big deal.. I think. Does this happen often? He was so.. weird yesterday." You looked down, feeling guilty for snapping at Leon like that yesterday, maybe being the reason for him ending up drunk.
"It's, well, it happened before. He always likes to drink but I'm not sure what's going on to be honest. But don't worry, okay? It has nothing to do with you or anything. Chances are high he's just fed up with work, I don't blame him." You nodded, smiling at Angel now. She then stood up and gave you a small smile before turning to leave. Before leaving though she turned back to you. "I prepared some coffee for you and Leon. Maybe try waking him up. And.. try not to be too mad at him, would you?" She waved to you one more time before leaving the room and soon the house.
You got your two mugs of coffee and you went up the stairs to wake up Leon. As you put your hand on the doorknob you could already hear his snoring so you made sure to be quiet. He laid face up on the bed and his hair was extremely messy, so rather than waking him up like you originally planned you just sat on the chair by the window and drank your coffee. The rain from last night was still just as terrible, if not worse to the point where you couldn't even look out the window, you needed some other source of entertainment. You picked up one of the books that Angel had placed in there as decor and began to read it. It was only a small book, something about a knight in shining armor there to save the princess, just like all the other fairy tales. As you were reaching the end of the book you could hear Leon beginning to stir, his breathing had become a lot lighter and his snoring had stopped, meaning he was pretty much awake now. You took another sip from your coffee and you could see Leon sitting up in bed. He had his hand on his head and you could tell that it was pounding. “Good morning, Sleepyhead.” You gave him a faint smile as you tapped the table, another mug of coffee waiting for Leon.
He groaned as he waved his arm at you, wanting you to bring the coffee to him. At first you just shook your head at him and clicked your tongue but he wouldn't give up, you were too tired to argue about it so you just sat on the side of the bed, your back facing him. “You’re mad."
“You think?” You snapped at him, still looking forward, at the blank wall in front of you.
“I’m sorry, Buttercup.” He sat up properly and shuffled towards you, being careful not to spill his cold coffee. “I was being stupid. I had a bad morning and I just wanted to chill out for the rest of the day, have a nice drink and just relax by the pool or something.”
“Oh so me arriving for a surprise visit, that's what derailed your day?” You turned to face him and you could tell that the two cogs in his brain were working overtime.
“What? No!” He shook his head as he tried to get a grasp on the situation. “I overreacted to you asking about my drinking problem-”
“Oh so now you admit that it's a problem?” You interrupted him, by now your body was fully turnt to him, just by your body language he knew that you were more than just pissed at him.
“It’s always been a problem.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I can try and explain it.” You simply huffed at him, wanting to hear his excuse but still wanting him to know that you're angry. “After Raccoon City I began to get pretty bad nightmares. Like really, really bad nightmares. You can guess why.” You simply nodded at it, feeling guilty now that you got him to explain. “I couldn’t sleep for weeks at a time, so I tried my best to just keep myself busy. Hobbies, people, anything. I would sometimes go out to bars and whatnot and I figured out that after a few drinks I would usually sleep better that night.” He adjusted himself in bed so that he was fully sitting upright, his full attention on you as he talked. “I’ve been doing it for years, Buttercup. It’s just a hobby I guess.”
You didn’t really know what to say. Sure you lived with college kids so you were around drinking fanatics 24/7 but an actual alcoholic? You didn’t have much experience.
“Buttercup, I’ve tried everything.” He leant forward and grabbed your hand, rather than you recoiling like the night before you accepted it and you shuffled yourself closer to him, sitting cross legged next to him on the bed. You hesitated before leaning your head on his shoulder and also grabbing his hand.
"I don't know how I can help, Leon. But you can't continue like this. I.. I didn't recognize you yesterday, you were so different. I don't want to worry about you, when you're out for a drink. I just-" You looked up to him with big eyes, some tears forming inside them. You felt so helpless and even bad for not noticing anything earlier. Leon squeezed your hand.
"Shh.. it's okay, Buttercup. After I met you, I tried to stop drinking, you can even ask Angel. But the nightmares never end. The only time I was able to sleep through the night was.. when you were here and slept next to me. Knowing I wasn't alone, feeling you next to me, it helped me." You blushed and gave him a small smile, but deep down you knew this wouldn't help long-term.
"Even if I stay here to sleep in your bed, you will always want to drink. And I can't be here with you all the time. You need.. we need something else to fix this problem." You took a deep breath. "Leon, I think you need professional help. Like, I don't know, medication to help you sleep?" You looked at him unsure of what you could do to help.
"I tried that before, Buttercup. I swear I tried it many times before but I also fell back into this habit. I can't change it anymore." You shook your head.
"No Leon, stop saying stuff like this. You may have tried before but.. now I'm here. I'll help you. I promise I will not leave your side, we will do this together. We can work in small steps, you hear me? Like.. you always drink your whiskey with ice, right? What about you trying to put in less alcohol and more ice? Step by step? It's worth a shot and this way it isn't cold withdrawal. What do you say?" You looked at him with big eyes, kind of proud of your idea. A small smile rested on Leon's face as he looked at you.
"It's worth a shot. But don't get your hopes up too high. This won't be easy and.. if things don't work out, I don't know who I'll be then."
"Leon. I am not leaving you alone now. We will do this together and no matter what happens, I'll be here. I believe in you." You lay your arms around him and hugged him. You felt his arms around your body and smiled. After a short while you let go of him. Both of you took a sip of your stone cold coffee and sat there in silence, the only sound being the rain outside the house.
You saw Leon fidgeting around and looked at him questioningly. Before you could ask what he was thinking about he began speaking. "You know, uhm, what I said yesterday. I meant it. Sure, I was drunk and all but…", he turned to you. "I love you. I have for a long time now but I didn't know how to say it. But I really do." You looked at Leon with big eyes, shocked that he would bring this topic up again. Unsure of what to say you stood up and walked around the room. Leon's gaze followed you and you felt bad for not saying anything. After walking up and down you finally sat back next to him again. "Leon, I.. I don't know what to say. I mean.. I. God. Leon. I love you. I really do." You let out a small laugh. This whole situation felt so bizarre to you. You saw a big smile growing on Leon's face and you had to return it. He grabbed you by your arm and pulled you to him. You looked each other in the eyes, knowing what both of you needed now. Leon closed the gap between you two and after so long you kissed him. Without being drunk. Just a real and honest kiss, both of you wanting it and knowing it was the right thing. “So what was the bad news that you got yesterday morning?” You asked him as you pulled away.
“I have to go to Italy for a job.” He smirked. “But I think I might drag you along with me, we can have some time together once I'm done with work.” You thought about the offer for a split second before agreeing.
"At least I don't have a job where I have to ask for permission anymore." You jokingly said, trying to make the best of the situation.
"Well then we have a plan. Sooo, you better get home and pack your things. We should be at the airport early tomorrow morning. I'll text you the time and pick you up. Sounds good?" You nodded before going for another kiss. You stayed at Leon's house for a while longer before eventually going home and packing your stuff. You were excited to be by his side at a job and couldn't wait for it anymore. God knows what you've gotten yourself into...
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Taglist: @trinswhimsys @dixanadu @oppsie--channie
#resident evil vendetta#re2#re4#re6#leon Kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x reader#resident evil x reader#x reader#x male reader#x female reader#x gender neutral reader#x gn reader
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Why I Started Watching F1
I am quite emotional right now after watching the documentary, so my inner writer decided to come out of her indefinite hiatus, and make a weird introspection/retrospection.
My father started watching both cycling and F1 on broadcasts of Serbian channels during the late 80s in communist Romania. I am pretty sure the broadcasts stopped at some point and only resumed on different stations by the time the 90s rolled around. When my parents started dating, my mom began watching F1 as well. She was a Senna fan while my dad supported Michael. She was just telling me about the crash last week while watching Monza, as she thought that was where it happened.
My parents got married in 1995, the same year Michael and Corinna got married. I was born in 1997, the same year Gina was born. Growing up, one name kept popping up time and time again: Michael Schumacher. It was said in a weird combination of German and Romanian, the way the local commentators were pronouncing it. I have vivid memories of watching a red car on TV with my dad, although I am pretty sure I found the idea of racing quite boring at the time. My mom always dressed me in Bennetton, and I remember not understanding why she seemed to like this particular store so much.
In December 2013, I was in a rush to get ready for a private math lesson. I’ve had had a bad midterm just before Christmas so I wanted to get back on my game during the holidays. I remember coming downstairs in a hurry. My parents were eating and the TV was on on some news channel. The breaking news logo popped on announcing the ski accident and that Michael was taken to the hospital. My mom was shocked and my dad was speechless. I was just worried I was going to be late. I think we all thought he was going to be okay. Later, they announced he was in a coma. In passing, while trying to navigate sophomore year, I remember thinking he may still be okay, almost in the same way Michael said about Senna, a coma doesn’t necessarily mean something bad. People wake up from comas all the time and they are fine.
And then I forgot about it completely. The Romanian news channels didn’t give any updates and I wasn’t following any international media. My dad had stopped watching F1 consistently at this point, instead focusing on cycling. I finished high school, I became an engineer after graduating from Uni. I got my first job, started a master’s and began looking into academia. I forgot F1 even existed. I just remember sometimes hearing a TV host I like talk about a guy named Lewis Hamilton who was really good and also apparently a very interesting person.
And then this year, on August 4th, I was hanging out with my parents, and my dad mentions that one of his coworkers took his young kids to watch the Hungaroring in Budapest. My mom says to turn on the TV and watch as well. I was scrolling through my phone, and I didn’t particularly care.
I hear my mom say “Alonso’s still racing?”. I thought hah, I think I’ve heard that name before.
After a while, my mom says, “Verstappen? That can’t be right, is it the son?”
My dad confirms it, and then my mom goes, “Is Schumacher junior racing as well?”
Again my dad confirms it. I perked up at that. And I remembered the accident. I say out loud, “I wonder how his dad is.” Neither of my parents had given it a thought since 2013. So I open Google, and search Michael Schumacher condition. I couldn’t believe it. I’d genuinely thought all those years that somehow, he was fine. And then I saw somewhere that Mick was with him when it happened. That broke me.
For a 14-year-old to have to witness that, reading that Michael was conscious for about an hour afterwards, I couldn’t wrap my head around it. How did Mick manage to deal with it in the moment, and then afterwards is beyond me. Both him and Gina have gone on with their lives so beautifully, managed to have such amaizing careers. But unlike all of us, they couldn’t forget about it. Watching the documentary, hearing Mick say he’d give anything to talk to his dad again, that was just heartbreaking. And Corinna, oh my God.
Don’t get me started on Seb, who never won another title after 2013. I can’t help but think that if Michael’s accident hadn’t happened, Seb’s journey at Ferrari would have been different. Would have been like Michael’s.
So I started watching F1 for Mick and Seb. Both my parents think it’s a little weird, as I apparently didn’t like it when I was little. Then I discovered Lewis, Charles, George and Lando. Daniel. Max, that I can’t help but like, no matter how much I think maybe I shouldn’t.
I think I didn’t like F1 when I was little because my brain thought it was about the cars. But it’s not. It’s about the poeple that risk their lives for this crazy sport they love. It’s about their story. And maybe someday soon, I hope we’ll see the second rebirth of Ferrari. I’m not sure how Mick and Charles would work together as teammates. I’m not sure how the main and secondary driver thing would work either. But I hope somehow it does. Because it would mean the world to both of them. It’s the same as they say in the documentary, they don’t need 7 titles. They just need one. Maybe one each, that would be brilliant.
And just maybe, against all odds, someday, Mick gets to have his chat with Michael.
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forever & always. ➤ tom. h.
Happy Valentine’s Day~!!! I couldn’t contain myself and or stop myself from writing about my favorite Valentine’s day killer. So, here you go :)
WARNING: descriptions of gore and blood. in this one-shot, the reader’s pronouns are she&her. i might make a part two of this, depending on how well it does. maybe not. i like how it ends, regardless. either way. enjoy.
The news spread like wildfire. No matter which way you went, there was always a flame, reaching out towards those to burn. Try as you may, you can't get away. The words that littered the air was nothing more than burnt ashes fluttering around, burning each object as it flies above said thing or said person. In this case, the people of a small town called Valentine Bluffs were the ones burning from the inside and out. They felt trapped within the smoke, unable to seek out which way to escape the dangers that had followed. The terror; the trauma; the panic and anxiety attacks; All of it - they thought it was long gone.... they were finally going back to being normal, how things used to be.
They were going back to a life that wasn't full of fear, having to look behind your shoulder constantly and being careful of who you trust. It was all going to be okay, happy once more. They'd finally be able to celebrate their favorite day once again. But... as you may have guessed, it's not quite easy to put out a rapid wildfire. All it takes is a small fire to expand out into something bigger, bolder, and scarier. You can't escape the flames. No matter how big or small. You cannot ignore the overwhelming burning sensation that glazes across your skin as the fire around you grows larger, making you feel smaller and smaller by the second. The words, however, the statement that was fluttering around like specks of ash, wasn't at all a sentence (nor an actual fire) but a name - Harry Warden. 1997. Valentine's day. Everybody, in & out of town, knows what happened. For a brief period of time there, nobody celebrated Valentine's day, having thought it out to be cursed. Yet, as time went on, there was no sign of Harry Warden. No copy cat killer version of him, neither. So, the people went back to celebrating. Writing hand written love letters, buying cheaply made cards at the local supermarket, buying and or receiving overly priced chocolates. Anything, everything, people did it with love in their hearts and a smile on their face. Today was Valentine's Day, once more. Expect it wasn't the way it had been for the past 9 years. It was exactly like the day in 1997. History was repeating itself. Instead of love, presents, and reserved dinner dates being celebrated and shared, the town of Valentine Bluffs got decomposed, rotting corpses, instead. Blood scattered outside and inside of buildings.
It was worse than before, more bodies were showing up without their hearts and the missing body piece would be found neatly placed in between a plastic heart shaped box. All of which would be sent to the police station as a joke, as a threat. Even a card would be taped on top or under the container, though the sentences were far from cheerful and loveable. A few of them had been thrown aside, only having been read once. Those who opened it and read it aloud usually found themselves cringing in dismay as they read the paragraph out loud all while shifting around in their seat, uncomfortably.
Once they read it, they shook their heads as tears welled up in their eyes before they threw it into the trash bin or ripped it into hundreds of tiny pieces, not daring to open another letter that's brought in. Evidence or not, the workers couldn't keep their breakfast or lunch down when they'd read the cards. The recent two cards had said; From the heart comes a warning, filled with bloody good cheer, remember what happened as the 14th draws near! And the last victim, a girl named Maryanne Anderson, had gotten a card right before she was found dead, her body laying in a ditch to rot. Her card had read; Roses are red, violets are blue, one is dead, and so are you. Nobody knew who the new killer was, or if it even was a new killer, copying Harry's schemes and following in his footsteps. It could have very well been the same man all those years ago. That's what they were saying. (Y/N) (L/N) was in her car, driving back home from work when her favorite song had been replaced with an alarm, cutting off her favorite part. "Oh, c'mon!" She groaned, hands hitting the steering wheel in annoyance before she goes to turn up the volume anyways, wondering what's so important that the town and the police station had to turn off her favorite song.
She knew about the murders, she knew there was a serial killer around, she already knew this already. And yes, she was petrified, as most people were. When the first body showed up, the mayor of town announced there'd be a curfew until they found out who is doing all of this. Whether it was one person or more, they'd find a way to capture the killer. No matter what. There was not going to be another murder.
(Of course, there was more.)
(The original curfew was getting home at 9:30. Now, it had gone down and you'd have to be indoors, at your house, by 6:30 PM.) Students in school would get out earlier, as well as the adults in town. The only ones who didn't get to go home so early in the day were those who were trying to protect the people of Valentine Bluffs. "We are sorry to interrupt that song there," came the radio host's deep and groggy voice. "However, this is more important than your favorite throwback jams. I've gotten an officer here with me, he had just shown up not even a second ago to tell us more news on the situation we are currently in. So, please, listen carefully." "Yeah, whatever. I already know what's going on. Tell me something I don't know." (Y/N) turns off the radio as she pulls up in her driveway, feeling a sense of comfort clouding over her, another day, she's okay; safe and sound, unlike a few of her old high school friends that were gutted like fish and butchered like pigs.
She shivers at both the bitter and harsh wind brushing against her as she steps out of her vehicle and the obvious visual of whatever masked man (or men) that's around, killing innocent people for whatever given reason. Hurrying along the steps to her porch, she digs her keys out of her jacket pocket, finding them within seconds before she's pushing them into the door as quickly as she could. She didn't show it, tried not to show it, but she was as anxious and paranoid as everyone else was.
(Y/N) was trying to hold back her fear but the moment she gets home, locking all the doors and windows, the uneasy feelings creep up on her and every negative emotion takes charge. With a sigh, she falls down onto the couch with a plop, reaching for the remote, she turns on the TV, attempting to try and get her mind off of things. Of course, every station wasn't what she wanted to watch, the news replacing every channel. She skipped and skipped but it all remained the exact same. With a groan, she decides to listen to what they were saying, even though she really didn't want to hear it as it'd only make her anxiety worse. "I am Jonathan Godfrey. We're sorry to interrupt your daily scheduled programs, however, a man you may know as Tom Hanniger has escaped from his stay from a mental hospital." (Y/N)'s eyes nearly budge out of her head at the mention of the man's name, the remote she had in the palm of her hand goes flying, falling down onto the ground by her feet. Tom? Mental hospital? It didn't make any sense! Everyone... including her, thought he was dead! She, with shaky fingers, grabs the remote to turn the volume up. Jonathan's own eyes were wide as he read the teleprompter, his voice now grew shaky as he spoke. Fear was written across both his and his co-worker’s face. "Unfortunately, we don't have any more information or news as to where he's escaped off to. Or where he may be as of the moment. All the reports, every last piece of information we have been received has said he's been missing since two days ago. He can be anywhere. More importantly, he can be here, hiding out." His voice trembled as he spoke, it was also very faint - almost ghostly. Quiet as a mouse. His skin was pale, making it appear as if he was a ghost rather than a living person that sat in the chair there.
Jonathan couldn't continue, this much was obvious, therefore his co-host, Abigail Miller, continued where he had left off. "This being said, please, lock the doors and windows of your home. If you have a weapon to guard your own life and protect your ground, get it out now. Please, protect yourself the very best you can. And do not, I repeat, do not answer the door. Do not leave your home whatsoever. Whatever is outside of your house is surely not more important than your life.
“Whether it is Tom that has been doing this or not, we're not exactly sure. All we tell you is to be careful and remain indoors until we can find Tom and or find the Valentine's killer. This has been Jonathan Godfrey and Abigail Miller, with the news. Stay safe and God bless." The program that was previously playing showed up finally, the neon colors swirling together to form the title of the show, along with a fairly way too cheerful theme song playing faintly in the distance as the introduction played out. (Y/N) had never heard of it before, but from a quick glance, it appeared to be a sitcom from the late 70's. The only source of light was coming from the television screen, casting colorful shadows across (Y/N)'s face. She had felt too tired to have turned on the lights upon entering her house. Work was short, the hours having grown thinner because of the curfew, however, it was still tiring all the same. She instantly regretted not doing so now, however.
She sat in the dark, her heart thumping loudly against her chest as she pulled a near by blanket around her shoulders as if the thick fabric would comfort her and protect her. The room had gotten colder ever since the report was announced. Goosebumps ran up and down (Y/N)'s body, the baby hairs on her neck stood on end as a shiver slid up and down her spine. Despite the blanket being around her body, she felt nothing but cold, numb. Suddenly, the TV went out with a soft 'ping'. (Y/N) gasped and her heart stopped beating all together. She felt like she couldn't breathe, she couldn't tell if she was going crazy either when she heard what sounded like footsteps coming down from the hallway. She sat, frozen, on her couch, unable to move, unable to breathe. Then.... a knock. Followed by another and another. It was right outside, coming from not the front entrance but the back yard. "(Y/N)? (Y/N), please..." came the voice. And (Y/N) recognized that voice anywhere. She knows she shouldn't.... everybody said not to but... she couldn't help herself. Getting up as quickly as she could, she runs down the hallway, the sounds of her feet echoing against the thin walls as she reaches the door, tugging it open. There, on the other half of the door, stood nobody other than Tom Hanniger himself. He looked up, surprised she had answered the door. Giving her a weak, lopsided smile, Tom's pulling her into a tight hug, his head falling down in the crook between her shoulder and neck, tears flooding his eyes as he soaks her shirt, silently weeping. "(Y/N).... fuck, I've missed you so much, missed you so bad." Tom confesses with a sniffle. "Tom... I- what're you doing here? They're looking for you, you know this, right? Everybody's looking for you. And.... and I- fuck, Tom! I thought you were dead. Everybody in town thought you died the day your father did." (Y/N) didn't hesitate to hide her true feelings. She was a mixture of emotions. Angry, happy, sad, scared - she was feeling every single emotion there possibly was. "I know... I know. I-I have a lot to explain and a lot to tell you but please, right now, can we just- can we just play pretend?" He asked, moving away from her shoulder as he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his sweater, his eyes remained watery and his skin was flushed as he looked up at (Y/N). (Y/N) guessed it was a mixture of three things - running away from the mental hospital to where her house was to the bitter and harsh February air. Plus, the crying he had just done, too. His face was red and blotchy from all three. Despite it being so cold, sweat trickled his face, a few drips of it falling along side his cheeks. "Play pretend?" (Y/N) echoed, tilting her head to the side, unsure of what he meant. "Let's play pretend." He repeated, licking his lips. "Let's play pretend and imagine none of this horrid, crazed shit is going on right now. Let's pretend it's only me and you. It's Valentine's day, isn't it? Let's celebrate. After all, it was one of our favorite days to spend together." Heat rose to (Y/N)'s cheeks and she bit on her bottom lip, rocking back and forth on the bottom of her feet. "Tom.... I-I'm...You want-" She couldn't from sentences, her thoughts were mushing together and it was all too much for her to handle. She felt like she was going to pass out. "I want you, (Y/N). I want you as bad as I did then and I want you just as badly right now. There has never been a day where I wasn't thinking about you. You were the love of my life. I still love you, maybe even more, now. Let's celebrate, please. We can talk about everything tomorrow morning. I promise I'll tell you everything. Right now, let's play pretend, let's act like it's just us again, like when we were teens.... I've missed you. And.... and I know you've missed me too or else you wouldn't have opened the door." And, yeah, okay, he was right. "Tom..." "(Y/N)." He stepped closer to her, closer than he had done before, as he rests his hand against her cheek, fingers brushing against her skin as he looked into her (E/C) eyes. "I love you. I never stopped. And I know you love me, too.... so, please, baby girl.... can I just show you how much I love you?" (Y/N) shouldn't have answered the door. She should have called the cops when she heard his voice. Everything was too much of a coincidence.
Her power was working perfectly fine until Tom had shown up.
Now that she was thinking about it....
There was also no victims until she had heard the news Tom had left the asylum. Three days ago....
Three days ago, there was the first victim; Maryanne. If she thought too much about it, got too deep into the rabbit hole, she would have assumed Tom Hanniger was the Valentine's killer - The Miner. Yet... looking at Tom, she knew he wasn't - couldn't - be the killer. If he was, he would've killed her too, right? Tom Hanniger's been through too much, and just like she was there before, she was going to be there for him now. Through Hell and back.
She would stay by his side, no matter what. She still kept the old promise ring he had given her in high school, along with the note in which he confessed his feelings. In which, he told her - one day - he'd marry her. She was the perfect girl for him, as he was the perfect man for her. A promise is a promise. When she said 'forever and always', she meant that. (Y/N) knew Tom meant it, too. "I love you too." Tom's quick to place his lips on (Y/N)'s and (Y/N) is quick to kiss him back just as hungry, just as fierce. She tangles her fingers through her hair and pulls on it, earning a groan from Tom. Satisfied with the result, she tugs him into her house by the sleeve of his shirt, slamming the door shut with her foot.
"I've missed you, baby." He says, not daring to pull away from the kiss.
"Show me how much you've missed me then, baby." She mumbles against his lips. "Oh, I'm going to." "Let's go celebrate Valentine's day the right way then. Come on, let's go upstairs." Tom grins and (Y/N) smiles back before she's pulling him up the stairs and into her bedroom.
Forever and Always. It was them until the end. Nobody would ever separate the two of them, again.... not even Harry Warden was going to destroy Tom’s happiness... not this time.
#Tom Hanniger x reader#Tom Hanniger x Y/N#slasher imagines#slasher one shots#slasher x reader#Jensen Ackles x Y/N#My Bloody Valentine#Jensen Ackles x reader#Slasher fanfictions#Jensen Ackles fanfictions#Jensen Ackles imagines#Tom Hanniger imagines#Jensen Ackles one shots#my works#Tom Hanniger one shots#Tom Hanniger fanfictions#Harry Warden x reader#Harry Warden x Y/N#cierra's stories
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A bunch of SAI livestream observations
I literally just copied and pasted the notes I took so I'm sorry if they make no sense.
Chronological notes:
-livestream starts by showing a birds-eye view of Dema and playing Good Day
-Tyler looks really depressed
-bishops (Sally/Sacarver and Dan/Lisden) introduce TOP as “the popular band, Twenty One Pilots” - trying to portray them as popular and likable to get more people to listen
-Sacarver says the dragon (Trash) is “kinda dark” - implies that Trash is good
-Tyler’s hair is “number 16 cotton candy” - further shows how Dema controls/catalogs everything
-“there’s not twenty one pilots, there’s only two guys!” - maybe it doesn’t mean anything but that phrase is *the* phrase that will piss off almost any clikkie
-bishops ask where Josh is and if he’s hiding, Sacarver says “come here, you little moron” - Josh isn’t with Dema because they don’t know where he is, plus they wouldn’t call him a moron if he was on their side
-Sacarver wants Tyler to play Stressed Out because she’s always stressed (due to working with Lisden) and because “it’s my favorite” - Stressed Out is the song that made TOP popular, she may be stressed due to working with Lisden because she’s the one that seems to want to escape Dema more, while he seems to buy into the message/concept of Dema more
-Tyler tunes out bishops and then starts singing Choker
-Bishops grab Tyler after Choker and force him onto another set, where Stressed Out plays. Bishops stay onstage during Stressed Out - again, Stressed Out made TOP popular, which is what the bishops want
(okay i know the bishops are bad but that last image would make a badass computer wallpaper)
-Stressed Out fades into Migraine
-“thank God it’s Friday/because Fridays will always be better than Sundays” - probably doesn’t mean anything, but the livestream was on a Friday
-Josh counted for Tyler on “depressssssing”, but not verbally like in the studio version
-Migraine background has the psi symbol
-Migraine transitions into Morph, with a video of a crowd from the Trench era (Tyler interacts with the ‘crowd’ with a call and answer)
-Tyler doesn’t say “Josh Dun” in Morph
-Morph turns into Holding on to You (“entertain my faith” part) with a rain/lightning effect
-right before “lean with it rock with it”, there’s static and it cuts to the bishops who advertise SAI on the second set (blue/pink/yellow rainbow)
-“they just don’t play hits like this on the radio these days” - “this song will never be played on the radio” from Fairly Local
-after, a ‘commercial’ plays
-the first commercial has the black slipcase on the right and the blue slipcase on the left. In the back, from left to right: cassette, three cd’s stacked on top of each other (white on top, pink in the middle, blue on the bottom), blue box (limited edition box set sold on their website), lyric booklet
-“Dema is bringing you this music collection that is vibrant with saturation” - the Twitter banner was slowly desaturated while in the process of announcing the album, ads for SAI said “feel the saturation!”
-Shy Away, Choker, and Mulberry Street are mentioned during the first ad - two out of three singles released before the album dropped and the most propaganda-like song
-After commercial, Tyler plays Mulberry Street - Lisden said it was his favorite (likely b/c it’s propaganda)
-Mulberry Street starts inside but Tyler goes outside to a street (Mulberry St.) with extras that are ‘frozen’ in place
-Mulberry Street was the whole song (or almost the whole song), while most songs played were only a small segment - again, it’s Dema’s propaganda, so they want it to go on longer than older songs
-after Mulberry Street, the intro to Lane Boy plays (“why do I kneel to these concepts? Tempted by control, controlled by temptation. Stay low, they say, stay low”)
-Lane Boy has people with gas masks in the background
-“Don’t trust a perfect person and don’t trust a song that’s flawless” is repeated several times - later, Sacarver calls the album “perfect”
-Lane Boy transitions into Redecorate
-Chlorine plays next, background has barrels like in music video
-“Running for my…” (Tyler himself doesn’t say the word “life”)
-After Chlorine, Shy Away plays with obviously fake snow/mountainous background. Chandeliers are hanging and a fancy dining table is set
-Bishop commercial after Shy Away (“break the cycle in half”) plays, bishops have nosebleeds
-Sacarver says “nothing is missing from this collection”, yet SAI has 11 tracks while past albums have 14
-cd’s in front are swapped (black on left and blue on right), and the three cd’s are in a different order (pink on top, blue in the middle, white on the bottom)
-“But remember, you should-” *static* - bishops are likely being controlled by someone else, as it’s unlikely that the Banditos would have the power to cut them off
-Cuts to Mulberry St. set but darker (dusk/nighttime)
-The Outside plays next with Josh wearing skeleton hoodie - The Outside was mentioned in the commercial
-when water is poured on the street after The Outside, it forms a footprint
-Tyler sits in a boat named “Oh” with a lamp and an artificial night sky
-Plays Heathens with a ukulele (no frog croaks)
-transitions into Trees, which is normally the last song
-during Trees, the stars start to blur together (it looks like a timelapse of the North Star)
-Josh in Bandito clothing with a torch is shown (torch looks slightly different than in music vids), then it cuts to Jumpsuit
-Jumpsuit background is a valley like in the music video but it looks greener and more manufactured
-After, Heavydirtysoul plays with a flaming car on set (kinda like in the mv)
-Tyler looks upwards during “can you save my heavydirtysoul?”, looks like he’s pleading (sorry the last pic is so blurry(face))
-background is a road similar to the one in the music video
-Josh keeps crossing his drumsticks during HDS
-Commercial break with hosts (bloody and Sacarver has overexaggerated makeup, plus they have yellow eyes)
-“Now that you’ve heard some of this collection, you must be just like us”
-”Sometimes I close my eyes to try to escape, I just can’t believe how unbelievably perfect this collection is!” “You know you can’t escape, Sally.” “Yes, I know.”
-”We’ve come for you”, “We got people on the way, no chances” - “We come for you, no chances”, “We got people on the way” (lyrics from No Chances (which they didn’t play))
-Commercial zooms out to show that it’s on a TV with Tyler, Josh, and others watching - we don’t believe what’s on TV
-Saturday plays, during Jenna dialogue, Jenna has a pink streak in her hair and her top is half-blue, half-white
-Jenna has a yellow phone (Trench) while Tyler has a red one (Dema)
-stutter/pause between “might get” and “loud” happened twice, not just once
-after, they dance onto another set and play Level of Concern
-LOC background looked kind of like Josh’s in the music video (glow in the dark stars against a dark background)
-“In a world where this is as good as it gets, and we miss you, we really do”
-Fades into Ride, background is pink scales and what looks like sideways palm trees?
-Car Radio plays, Josh and Tyler are wearing black masks instead of white ones
-pause after “I liked it better when my car had sound”
-right after Car Radio, an alarm sounds and red lights flash, people run around in the background as Tyler walks onto Mulberry St. set
-Never Take It plays, Tyler comes up close to the camera (almost like in LOC music vid)
-Heavydirtysoul car is on fire to the right of the set
-Trash figurine is on the ground, it looks larger than usual
-Tyler walks back to first set and sits between bishops, who are frozen, and sings “I know it’s over/I was born a choker/nobody’s coming for me” from Choker
-fades out and cuts to bird’s-eye view of the set with crew members clapping and cheering, although even that feels subdued and fake
-shows Josh and Tyler with bishops in background, then credits roll
Various observations:
-Josh’s drumsticks are yellow - furthers concept that he’s against Dema
-SAI songs were generally played longer than older songs
-Bishops call it a “collection”, not an “album”
-Guitarists/trumpet player have one of Tyler’s tattoos on shirt
-Tyler has a pink ring and a blue ring on his left ring and index fingers, respectively (Shy Away music vid)
-various easter eggs on Mulberry St. set (sorry for the quality/size of the pictures)
(says “Rosie’s lounge)
-The door numbers on the Mulberry St. set coincide with the dmaorg.info error message numbers (at the bottom of the message)
-Josh’s bandito mask looks different (has a design on it that looks like a lion?) (unless I’m dumb and it was always like that)
-FPE: the Few the Proud the Emotional (Blurryface), Failed Perimeter Escape (Trench), now Food Petrol Etc (SAI)
-Tyler looks less energetic when singing SAI songs (because it’s Dema propaganda)
-after the show, instrumental versions of The Hype, We Don’t Believe What’s on TV, and Doubt were played. WDBWOTV is obvious, The Hype has the lyric “just don’t believe the hype”, and Doubt has the lyric “gnawing on the bishops”
-in the Q&A, they said Josh would backflip off the piano, but he didn’t. They also didn’t do the deathdrop (thing where Tyler just kinda falls backwards)
-Stream was exactly one hour long (started at 8 PM EST, ended at 9 PM EST)
-The livestream ad doesn’t have a crossed O in the only of “one night only”
Josh’s drum set designs:
Trash:
Alien:
Psi symbol 1:
Psi symbol 2:
FULL SONG LIST:
[song number]. [song title] - [album] ([design on Josh’s drum]): [additional notes]
Asterisks indicate songs that transition into each other smoothly
Good Day - SAI (Josh not present): not sang by Tyler (live, that is)
*Choker - SAI (Trash)
Stressed Out - Blurryface (alien)
Migraine - Vessel (alien)
Morph - Trench (alien)
Holding on to You - RATB/Vessel (alien)*
[Dema commercial 1]
Mulberry Street - SAI (Trash)
*Lane Boy - Blurryface (alien)
Redecorate - SAI (alien)
Chlorine - Trench (alien)*
Shy Away - SAI (Psi Symbol 1)
[Dema commercial 2]
The Outside - SAI (Trash)
*Heathens - Suicide Squad soundtrack (Josh not present)
Trees - RATB/Vessel (Josh not present): usually played at end of concert)
[Josh as a Bandito]
*Jumpsuit - Trench (alien)
Heavydirtysoul - Blurryface (alien)*
[Dema commercial 3]
Saturday - SAI (Psi Symbol 2)
*Level of Concern - single (alien)
Ride - Blurryface (alien)
Car Radio - RATB/Vessel (alien)*
[alarm sounds]
Never Take It - SAI (Trash)
Anyways, thats all I have for now but if I missed anything, let me know and I’ll add it! (I’ll be sure to credit you ofc)
-Admin Crow
#sai#scaled and icy#sai theory#scaled and icy theory#twenty one pilots#twenty øne piløts#top theory#what the hell is going on
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Nightmares
Pairings: Rafael Aveiro x F!OC (Jennifer Daniels)
Word count: 2.4k
Summary: In the wake of the Senator attack, Rafael is coming to terms with what he went through
Rating: Teen
Category: Angst, Fluff
Warnings: mentions of PTSD, references to chapter 11 of book 2
Daylight was peeking through the curtains but Rafael had been awake for hours. Every time he shut his eyes, he was transported back into that hospital room, the sounds of the monitor beeping and the distressed looks of his friends and colleagues staring at him through the window.
He hadn’t slept properly since that night, constantly tossing and turning in his bed with great difficulty due to the stiffness of his muscles, another side effect of the maitotoxin.
He wished he would just get better, that he wouldn’t have to take this long road to recovery.
With a big sigh, Rafael sat up and got out of bed, it took him much longer than normal but it took him even longer to get dressed. He grabbed the frame in the corner of his room and slowly made his way into the living room.
His Vovo had left a plate of food on the counter with a note saying she had gone out for the day. Rafael smiled softly as he took the plate, she always made the best food.
He sat down on the sofa, the silence bugging him. He was never one for quiet, he always liked being around noise, the silence was not something he was used to.
Coming from a big family meant there was always a big family meal and the chance to catch up with each other. They had arranged that soon, for now, Rafael was being given space in order to come to terms with what he went through.
He decided to turn on the TV, flicking through the channels, not paying attention to what was on. He settled on a news channel, the local Boston news scrolling along the bottom.
It’s all your fault Rafael.
He turned around, but there was no one there. He was certain he heard a voice.
You weak, pathetic man.
He heard the voice again but there was no one in the room. Rafael grabbed the remote, turning the volume up to max, the sound echoing off the speakers at an alarming pitch.
It won’t work Rafael. You don’t deserve anything.
The loud noise from the TV did nothing to drown out the voice. He could still hear it, tormenting him with its snide comments.
He put his hands over his ears, trying to see if he could block out the voice even further.
You pathetic little boy. You don’t deserve to live.
The loud banging of the front door averted his gaze. Rafael muted the TV and got up to open the door.
“Bloody hell Raf when’s the rave?” Lucas, his neighbour asked. “I could hear the music all the way down the street.”
“Ah sorry mate. I was… I was just testing the new speakers. I ordered them before… well you know what.” Rafael shrugged.
“No worries mate. I thought you were hosting a recovery party! When you’re feeling up to it we’ll go out sometime, but no rush.” Lucas smiled.
“Sounds good.” Rafael smiled back. He said goodbye to his neighbour and closed the door, leaning against it with a heavy sigh.
You don’t deserve to live your life. You let two men die, two brave men who deserve more than you.
“No… I did everything I could. I know it wasn’t enough I’m sorry.” Rafael cried, putting his hands over his ears.
You should’ve acted like a man! You’re nothing but a coward!
Rafael sunk to the floor in tears. Each sob was louder than the last, tears rolling thick and fast down his face. The voice was still talking to him, tormenting him with nasty words.
He got up and ran to the bathroom, turning on the shower and putting on the hot setting. He took his clothes off and opened the door to the shower, shutting it tightly.
He covered his ears again, hoping that the noise of the shower would block out the voice even more. So far he couldn’t hear anything, only the loud noise of the shower above him.
Rafael slowly uncovered his ears. The voice had gone, disappeared even. It wouldn’t torment him. He turned off the shower and dried himself off before heading back to bed.
He looked at his phone, the picture of the most important person in his life smiling up at him. He smiled at the photo, it was one she had sent him the other day before succumbing to sleep.
By the time Rafael woke up it was dark outside, the moonlight shining brightly through the window. The clock on his bedside read 1:34am. He sighed heavily as he laid on his back.
He thought about calling Jennifer, she was an avid night owl despite being what time it was. He grabbed his phone and found her name in his contacts. He hovered over her name before pressing dial. It rang for a few seconds before she picked up.
“I knew you’d be awake.” The voice he loved hearing so much chuckled.
“Same goes for you. I’m not disturbing you am I?”
“No I couldn’t sleep. I was thinking about you. I miss you.” Jennifer said.
“I miss you too. I wish you were here.”
“I do too. This long distance shit sucks. How are you doing?”
“To be honest I’m struggling. I keep hearing voices, they’re tormenting me, telling me I don’t deserve to live. That I should’ve died instead of Danny and Bobby.” Rafael said, fighting to hold back tears.
He could see Jennifer’s heart break as he spoke. “When did this start?”
“Yesterday. It kept telling me how I was weak and pathetic, how I should’ve died.”
“You know that’s not true don’t you? You know you are the most strong and courageous person I’ve ever met. What happened that day was a tragedy and it is not your fault.” Jennifer said.
“I do. But it’s hard. Some days I believe it and others I don’t. I feel so helpless sometimes, like I should be doing more.” Rafael sighed.
“Do you want me to come visit you?” Jennifer asked.
Rafael hesitated. He needed her more than anything. But she was 3 hours away. He couldn’t possibly ask her to come all the way here.
“No. It’s too far away. Come and visit when we originally planned.” Rafael replied.
“You need me Raf. Now more than ever. I’ll be there soon.” Jennifer said, she got up out of the bed.
“Jen it’s fine honestly.”
“I don’t care. I want to be with you. The roads will be quiet at this time. I’ll be there in no time.” Jennifer gave him a small smile.
“Jen…”
“Yeah?”
He wanted to say those three words, they were on the tip of his tongue. The more he spoke and spent time with her, the harder he was falling. He would say them soon, when the time was right.
“Drive safe.” Rafael smiled.
“I will.” She smiled back.
The call ended and Rafael went into the living room and sat by the window, waiting for her arrival.
He saw various cars in the distance, little balls of light moving down the road but he didn’t recognise the car she was driving. He felt bad for bringing her here, for dragging her out of her bed late at night. Even though she insisted on coming, there was a constant feeling that he was being a nuisance.
You are a nuisance Rafael. She doesn’t really want to be here. She’s being nice for your sake.
“No stop! Stop you’re lying.” Rafael cried, covering his ears.
I never lie Rafael. Everyone else is lying to you. You are not worthy of anything.
“You’re not right. Everyone has been so kind. Everyone is still grateful that I’m here.”
They’re lying to you. You deserve to be six foot under. The way Danny and Bobby are.
“No! NO!” Rafael said standing up and rushing out the front door.
Just as he looked up he saw Jennifer’s car pulling up towards the side of the sidewalk. He rushed over to her, pulling her out of the drivers seat and pulling her into a big hug, as if holding her would melt all his troubles away.
He couldn’t fight back the tears he had desperately been holding in, he sobbed into her shoulder as she held him up.
“It’s okay, it’s okay I’ve got you.” Jen soothed as she rubbed his back.
“I’m so sorry.” Rafael sobbed.
“What are you apologising for? You’ve done nothing wrong!” Jennifer made him look at her, cupping his face in her hands.
“It’s all my fault. Everything’s my fault.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I couldn’t save them. It’s my fault they’re dead!”
It suddenly clicked for Jennifer. He was blaming himself for Bobby and Danny’s death. He was suffering from post traumatic stress disorder.
“Oh Raf it isn’t. I promise you no one blames you for what happened. Come inside and we can talk about it.” Jennifer held out a hand.
“A-are you sure? Are you sure people don’t hate me?” Rafael asked.
“Do you trust me?” Jen said. He nodded. “You are entirely blameless in this. Nothing that happened that night was your fault. You were so brave with what you faced. And I’m really glad you’re still here. And I know so many other people are. Talk to me Raf, let me in.”
He took her hand and led her inside and to his room, pulling her down onto the bed.
“I’m glad you’re here with me.” Raf said quietly.
“Me too.” Jennifer smiled as she held him in her arms. “Open up to me Raf. I want to know what’s going on. Tell me about this voice.”
“It keeps talking to me. Telling me that I don’t deserve to live, that I should’ve died that night. Bobby and Danny should be here and I shouldn’t.”
Jennifer tightened her arms around him, running a gentle hand through his hair. “Every time I think of that night I think of you, terrified for your life. I’m so glad you and Vic got through it. We wouldn’t have found each other otherwise.”
Rafael chuckled a little. “At least something good came out of all of this.”
“And not just us. I knew Vic would get Ethan eventually. She talked about him all the time.”
“They are perfect for each other. And I’m inclined to say we are too.” Rafael smiled.
“I have to agree. Will you promise me something?”
“What is it?”
“Will you talk to someone about what you’ve been through? I know it’s tough at first, but opening up really helps you understand how you’re feeling. When I lost my Mom, I was recommended a therapist. She really helped me process her illness and how to cope afterwards.”
“Okay. I’ll do that. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that in the first place.” Rafael replied.
“Don’t worry about it. This can be the start of you trying to move forward. And I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
“I don’t deserve you.” Rafael sighed.
“You deserve everything and more. I am so proud of you. Now let’s get some sleep.”
Rafael cuddled up to her, sighing happily as Jennifer ran a gentle hand through his hair. In her arms he felt safe and warm, like she was his light in a world of darkness.
As long as she was by his side, he could get through this.
They walked hand in hand towards the therapists office in the hospital, Jennifer squeezing his hand to bring him comfort. The closer they got to the room, the more nervous Rafael became.
“Do you want me to come in with you?” Jennifer asked.
“I’ll be okay on my own.” Rafael smiled.
“Alright. I’ll be outside waiting for you, good luck.” Jennifer smiled as she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
Rafael took a deep breath before he headed into the office.
“Hi Rafael, take a seat.” Lucy, the hospital therapist smiled at him.
“Hi Lucy, thank you for seeing me.”
“No problem. Now I know what happened in this hospital a few weeks ago but I want to hear it from you. Can you talk me through that night?”
“It still seems like a blur. I tried to stop him but it all happened to fast, the next thing I know I’m lying on a hospital bed, struggling to breathe. There’s a heart rate monitor next to me and the entire world is swimming.”
“And what had happened?” Lucy asked.
“The toxin had taken over my body, I was fighting to stay alive. And I did. I fought like hell and won.” Rafael said.
“That’s why you’re here today. What about after the attack? How have you been coping?”
Rafael took a deep breath. “Not good. I’m having frequent nightmares about the attack, reliving them every moment. And then there’s this voice, tormenting me, telling me that I don’t deserve to live, that I’m weak and pathetic, that I should’ve done more.”
“Does this voice sound familiar? Was it someone you knew?” Lucy asked.
“No, it just kept tormenting me, wishing I was dead.” Rafael said.
“The main thing to remember is that opening up is the first step. Telling me what you’ve been going through has allowed you to be honest. How much more do you feel comfortable sharing?”
For the next half an hour, Rafael opened up even more, from his early days as an EMT to his new relationship with Jennifer. He was surprised at how honest with himself he was being, how he wanted to get better for the sake of his family and friends. When he finished his session and scheduled another one for next week, he headed out the room.
“How was it?” Jennifer asked as she stood up.
“Really good. I’m glad I went. Thank you for the recommendation.” Rafael smiled as he took her hand.
“If you listen to me more often this relationship will always be happy.” Jennifer smirked as they walked out the hospital.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Rafael chuckled. “Fancy some lunch?”
“Lead the way.” Jennifer smiled as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.
For weeks, Rafael’s world had been full of darkness, voices torturing him at night with hurtful words. But having Jennifer in his life brought colour back into his world. After the attack, he didn’t know what direction his life would go in, he was struggling in silence. He didn’t know how to reach out. But now he was getting the help he needed and someone was going to be with him all the way through it.
He may still have some nightmares but with Jennifer by his side, he could cope with anything.
I teased this ages ago and I finally finished it! I hope you like it!
Let me know if you would like to be added to this tag list!
Tag list: @secretaryunpaid @mia143 @openheartfan @headoverheelsforramsey @chaoticchopshopheart @gryffindordaughterofathena @choicesaddict5 @adiehardfan
@openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations
#open heart#rafael aveiro#rafael aveiro x oc#playchoices#angst#open heart fanfic#open heart fanfiction#tw ptsd#choices fic writers creations#fics of the week
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Kiro’s Work Visit Date (探班之约) Translation [CN]
Hi! Just a couple of notes before you begin reading...
This fluffy and wholesome date was just released (March 11, 2021) in the CN server and will eventually be released in the ENG server sometime next year.
I also don’t know any Chinese myself so all of this translation was done through the power of Google Translate and with help from the lovely @keliosyfan .
You can read his Couch Potato call that comes with this date here!
Hope you enjoy!~
*Spoilers ahead for future content!*
[First Part]
MC: So now the question is….
Kiro: Wait a minute! I didn’t seem to understand too much of what was said. Let me take a look!
During the video call, Kiro suddenly moved his face close to the screen with excitement.
Kiro: Miss Chips, do you mean that….you’re going to go in person and be a host on the show?
MC: Pretty much….
Some time ago, I did a variety show about a certain European town called “Cloud Tourism”.
The reason it’s called “Cloud Tourism” is because I’ve never been to this small town before. I only got a preliminary understanding of the traditional customs there through a novel.
Out of an abundance of interest, I consulted a lot of relevant sources and finally released a program with the concept of “seeing words as faces”.
Originally it was just an experiment inspired by an idea that didn’t really make any big splashes in China.
Unexpectedly, an internet celebrity from the small town recommended this program on his personal blog which led to it becoming popular very quickly.
Kiro: Oh….slowly but surely, I figured it out. Not only has this show received great praise, the local TV station also sincerely invited you to come and do some interviews. Even in the form of a reality show, I must say that Miss Chips is amazing!
MC: ......
MC: I think you understand it pretty clearly but some parts are exaggerated….
Kiro: Congratulations, MC!~
Kiro: If I wasn’t shooting abroad, I would definitely take you there to celebrate! But we can celebrate like we did before….
MC: Wait! Wait a minute! I haven’t decided whether to go or not yet….
Kiro: This is a great opportunity to promote the company. Why are you so hesitant?
MC: Although I have previous experience, this would be my first time shooting as the host….
MC: What if I’m too nervous in front of the camera? It’ll affect the shoot.
Kiro: Miss Chips.
On the screen, Kiro sat upright and pushed his glasses up that were nonexistent.
Kiro: It seems that you’ve forgotten that there’s an experienced acting teacher right in front of you.
MC: Pff….I would like to ask Mr. Kiro how I can act natural in front of the camera.
Kiro: It is very simple. Step one is to do the warm-up exercises in advance. Your shoulders should also be really relaxed. Then imagine the camera as a friend who can’t speak and has big eyes….
A few minutes later, Kiro was still “teaching” very professional acting techniques on the phone screen.
Kiro: Hello, MC, are you still listening?
MC: Um….I don’t think I can do this.
His bright eyes suddenly crinkled upwards, hiding a triumphant smile.
Kiro: I’m just teasing you. In fact, you only need to remember the first few steps.
MC: But I’m worried that if I get nervous, I’ll forget those first few steps. I hope that I can become Kiro that day!
Kiro curled his lips up again when he heard those words.
Kiro: Then close your eyes and hypnotize yourself….
Kiro: “I am the superstar Kiro!”
[Second Part]
At five o’clock in the morning in the dressing room at the local TV station.
I tilted my head to face the makeup artist and held back yet another yawn.
The makeup artist whispered a few words to the accompanying translator and then left the dressing room.
Translator: Miss MC, the makeup artist has finished your makeup. The director will be here shortly. You can rest for a while.
I nodded gratefully. This country’s language is one that I’m not familiar with so the TV station specifically hired an interpreter.
As soon as I closed my eyes, I felt my phone vibrate.
Kiro: MC, are you still in makeup?
MC: Just finished. Are you ready to start work too?
Kiro: I’ve already been working for an hour.
MC: Why so early? It’s only five o’clock where you are!
Kiro: Don’t worry, I’m used to this kind of shooting routine.
Although I’ve known before that Kiro started almost every filming session in the morning, this was the first time experiencing it for myself. It’s hard work getting up early and putting on makeup.
What’s more, he often works overtime to catch up on his other stuff and rarely has enough time to rest.
MC: Then you must take time to rest!
Kiro: It’s okay. If I’m tired, I just close my eyes and think of Miss Chips’ smile.
Kiro seemed to take a deep breath on the other end.
Kiro: Hmm~ Charging is complete!
I seemed to see him being content and I couldn’t help being amused by him.
Kiro: By the way, what is your shooting schedule today?
MC: It’s sightseeing shooting. The director arranged to take me to several local attractions and I can also choose places of interest.
MC: The first stop on the agenda is to explore the shop on the pedestrian street.
Kiro: Great! I heard from the crew that there is a famous cake shop on the pedestrian street of that small town. I will send you the address.
Kiro: Only by filling up your stomach and replenishing your energy can you be in the best state!
(Cut to the street)
MC: Well….
I watched my stiff expression and rigid body in the video replay. I couldn’t help but curl my toes and pick at the ground.
Director: Take it easy, alright?
I nodded slowly.
The director looked at me with sympathy and discussed some things with the translator for a while.
Translator: The director wants to know if you have anything you want to do. He suggested that if we start with one of your interests first, you’ll get into the right state of mind faster.
MC: Well, there is one place….
I almost immediately thought of the cake shop that Kiro had mentioned.
(Cut to cake shop)
Because of how early it was in the morning when we arrived at this cake shop called “Flipped”, the first batch of pastries had just come out of the oven.
I was standing in front of the shop window outside the store while the director was preparing for shooting and I made adjustments for myself.
Shoulders down, jaw relaxed, a smile appeared on my face. I recalled the formula Kiro taught me.
Close your eyes. Look into your heart.
“I’m the “not afraid of anything” Kiro!”
A burst of mellow sweetness lingered wantonly in the air. I opened my eyes and focused on the window again.
A pair of bright and familiar smiling eyes appeared in the window. The owner of these smiling eyes waved to me.
I felt my heart jump out of my chest.
Kiro: Hello, Miss Chips~
Looking at the two intersecting faces on the window glass, I finally couldn’t help but smile.
Oops, I really did become Kiro.
[Third Part]
I didn’t expect Kiro to have secretly been planning to see me on set. I was pleasantly surprised and realized that I was deceived by him during the morning call.
I made a “follow me” gesture to him through the glass.
(Cut to alleyway)
In the alleyway next to the cake shop, I wiped away the shock in my heart and checked, again and again, to make sure that no one else had followed us.
Kiro: Don’t worry, MC. Almost all the folks in this small town will have no idea who I am. And….
He pointed proudly to the sunglasses on his nose.
Kiro: I also came prepared.
I looked around and around and deliberately put on a face of worry.
MC: Why are you here? Weren’t you filming in another country?
Kiro: Actually, I don’t have any shooting arrangements today. It only takes an hour and a half to fly to this country from the shooting location. And it only takes two hours to take the train from the town’s airport.
MC: No matter how easy you make it sound, that was no easy journey….
MC: And with this time off, you should be resting in the hotel.
He pulled down his sunglasses aggrievedly.
Kiro: But I really wanted to visit you at work for once, and give you encouragement at your side, just like what you did for me last time.
Kiro: And more importantly, I really missed you….
(Here’s a cute little clip of this dialogue uploaded by @cheri-translates !)
MC: Kiro….
All of my pretentious arrogance dissipated in an instant and I was about to reach out and hug him. But, he crossed his arms in front of him.
Kiro: But speaking of shooting, I just observed it secretly and your performance does have some small flaws.
Kiro: Your expressions are small and stiff, your movements are rigid and tiny, and your eye contact flutters from time to time….
Kiro: Also, you can walk without looking at the camera…. If I look at the camera while walking, [robot noises] don’t I look like a robot?
The more he talked about it, the more he assumed the coach position. He made a great show of it too.
I was so embarrassed that I nodded my head to accept the criticism with shame.
Kiro: Hahahaha--I’ll stop teasing you.
He leaned over and squished my cheek and curled his lips again.
Kiro: Although, I can see that you are a bit nervous. I’m used to seeing your confident working style as a producer on set….
Kiro: It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you this nervous. You can do it, love! *Did my own interpretation of what he said here cause I had no clue what Google was trying to say lol.*
He opened his arms and the morning sun fell on his shoulders.
Kiro: Come on, Miss Chips.
Kiro: Thank you for your hard work. For that, you get a rechargeable hug from Kiro.
I nodded my head hard and as soon as I took a step of joy, the director poked his head out of the alley.
Director: Stand by, sweety!
I slammed the brakes and took out my phone, pretending to take a call. I shook my head slightly at Kiro.
He immediately showed me an aggrieved expression and I gave him a wink.
MC: It’s okay, I’ve already learned a recharging trick from Teacher Kiro.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, sketching a picture of bright, smiling eyes on the pitch-black canvas.
When I opened my eyes, those smiling eyes gradually merged with Kiro’s in front of me.
MC: Charging is complete~
(Cut to inside cake shop)
Under the guidance of Kiro, “the super professional”, I calmed down and tried to get into the shooting state.
However, in order to not affect my shooting state, Kiro pretended to be a stranger and waited silently near the shooting location.
When I don’t know which dessert to choose, he would raise his voice and give me a hint.
With pastry crumbs hanging on the corner of my mouth, he pointed at the corner of his mouth and winked at me until I understood what he meant.
During the filming, there were children running around noisily, so he used the tablecloth on the table to do some tricks to attract their attention.
Perhaps because of his “invisible” companionship, I really became more natural before I knew it.
Translator: The shooting in the store is OK! The director said that we are going to shoot some scenes on the pedestrian street next. Miss MC just needs to walk around the street casually.
After checking the route with the director in the cake shop, I realized that the table where Kiro was sitting was empty.
(Cut to the street)
I walked out of the cake shop and looked around but did not find him.
Without giving me too much time to think, the director shouted to start behind the camera.
I tried to walk the streets with peace of mind but my eyes subconsciously looked for Kiro.
Although the sun is shining in the early spring, there is still a bit of a chill in the air that has just warmed up.
Inexplicably, my heart is a little empty.
There was hustle and bustle on the other side of the street and my gaze followed the prestige in the center surrounded by a group of local children. The familiar blonde hair was dazzling and shining.
Kiro was holding a few yellow balloons in his hand with the children cheering around him as if he had helped them stop the balloons from flying away.
He squatted down and handed them the balloons one by one.
As if he could feel my gaze, he turned around and gave me an unreserved smile.
The empty part of my heart instantly filled up at this moment.
I retracted my gaze and found that the director was gesturing at me to continue walking. I quickly continued to walk.
When I pretended to spontaneously look to the other side of the road, I found Kiro with his hands in his pockets walking at the same pace as me.
Although separated by the road, he walked with me in such a special way.
The approaching noon sunshine finally had the temperature as spring.
[Fourth Part]
The shooting had finally come to an end before dusk came.
But Kiro disappeared when I was filming the last scenic spot.
As soon as I had finished work, I took out my phone to check it and found that Kiro had sent me two text messages half an hour ago.
Kiro: MC, I will have filming tomorrow so I have to rush to take the last train.
Kiro: Also, you performed well. I know my MC is the best.
I hurriedly called Kiro but the call informed me that his phone was turned off.
I took a look at the time and it was about 20 minutes away from the shooting location to the train station in town.
Maybe Kiro has boarded the return train and even arrived at the airport….
However, before I could think rationally, I didn’t hesitate to reach out and stop a taxi.
(Cut to the train station)
Due to the small population of the town, the train station at dusk is deserted.
I couldn’t understand the local language on the big screen at the station so I stood on tiptoe and looking into the waiting area in the hall.
Benches in the waiting area, a window for manual ticket purchases, on both sides of the platform, beside the vending machine.
Kiro wasn’t there.
My shoulders drooped in disappointment and I walked slowly towards the station gate.
The setting sun gives off the last bit of its light and the half-curved dome clouds shroud half the station hall in the shadows.
A slender figure stepped out of the shadow and looked at the phone in his hand, his face was as disappointed and lonely as mine.
The sunset gradually kept coming down for another minute but it just happened to pass through the windows around the station, covering the entire lobby with a layer of gold.
I looked at the young man illuminated by the golden light and couldn’t help but shout.
MC: Kiro!!!
He raised his head with a surprised expression.
Kiro: MC?
I waved at him frantically and ran in his direction.
He regained his senses after a brief moment of disbelief and then opened his arms wide like everytime he hugs me.
The moment his breath came to my face, my heart was filled with contentment.
Kiro put a hand around my waist tightly, lowered his head, and rubbed my forehead.
Kiro: Why are you here?
MC: I remembered that I borrowed something from you today, so I ran to pay you back.
Kiro: What’s that?
I tightened my arms around his neck.
MC: Isn’t this for you?
His breathing seemed to be slightly stagnant. He slid his hand on my waist to my hair.
Kiro: Then I’ll gladly take it.
MC: I….
He bowed his head slightly, and put the words that I was eager to confide in between his lips.
.
.
.
Trains in foreign towns are always prone to delays. Thanks to this, Kiro has been at the station until now so we now have the opportunity to be alone outside of our schedules.
As soon as the setting sun fell, the stars scrambled to fill the sky.
We were dressed in starlight, sitting side-by-side on the benches outside of the station, waiting for the late train.
Kiro: How was the last scenic shoot? Did it go well?
MC: OK! But when I was eating a snack, I poured all the ingredients inside by accident.
MC: But in fact, you’re just supposed to pick a flavour and eat it as a dip. The director laughed and shouted “CUT”....
Kiro: Pff….hahahahaha! Fortunately, I wasn’t there or I would’ve been laughing even louder!
MC: And there was….
I counted all the interesting things about today’s shooting, and laughed happily with Kiro.
Kiro: I’m glad I was able to come to the shoot today. Otherwise, I would have missed so many interesting things about MC.
MC: Kiro, do you feel that our current conversations seem to have the roles reversed?
MC: I used to visit you at your shoots, and you talked with me about all the interesting things that happened during them.
MC: Today, we “swapped” identities, and I feel a little delicate.
Kiro: Can I interview the delicate mood of Miss Chips?
He held his hand out to me as if he were holding a microphone and placed it in front of my mouth.
MC: Well, when I was shooting before, I could always feel your gaze. I felt it a lot today.
MC: It turned out to be difficult to stop myself from gazing back.
MC: Obviously, I saw you all day, but I had to hold back from looking at you.
MC: Obviously, you are by my side, but I have to resist the urge to hug you….
My cheeks were slightly hot and I avoided Kiro’s gaze. I lifted my head to look at the stars in the sky when I heard a “click”.
I turned my head and found that Kiro was taking pictures of me with his phone, the power bank that I had given him was still hanging from it.
MC: !
I took a look at the phone in his hand and saw the picture.
MC: It’s ugly! Delete it quickly!
Kiro: How is it ugly? The most natural MC is obviously the most lovely MC!
MC: I’m not letting you keep the power bank to charge your phone as revenge. Delete it quickly!
I struggled to snatch the phone from him, only to find that all the pictures he had taken today were of me.
I randomly clicked on a picture Kiro had taken of me eating a grilled sausage with an exaggerated expression, with me nervously facing the table in the background.
MC: You little….!
I glared at him angrily then clicked on other photos.
I frowned and watched the replay. I was stubbornly asking for another shot and I looked at him in the distance.
Kiro: Miss Chips….
He prolonged the ending, slowly coming closer to me.
Kiro: Don’t delete them. They’re all my precious memories of you. I want to keep them.
MC: No wonder your phone is out of power. You took too many photos!
He heard the relaxation in my tone and happily took the phone from me.
Kiro: Is this really too much? Compared to all of the photos of me on your phone, this is nothing out of the ordinary.
I blushed and tried to retort.
MC: Well, that’s because you are Kiro!
Kiro: But to me, you are MC.
He said this in a sincere tone.
Kiro: Just like you said, I also felt MC’s unusual mood today.
Kiro: I was worried whether you would be thirsty after talking for so long. And worried that you’d be tired after shooting for so long.
Kiro: You did well. I'm proud of you.
Kiro: The most important is….
He slowly came closer to me. I was the only thing in the reflection of his eyes.
Kiro: Although the scenery of this small town is beautiful, your shooting content is also very rich.
Kiro: But just like this moment….
Kiro: Under the starry sky, I can only see you.
Kiro: You are the unique star in my world.
[END]
#mlqc#mr love queen's choice#mr love game#mr love kiro#mlqc kiro#date translation#mlqc spoilers#zhou qiluo#AAAAAAAAAA#HE IS SO PRECIOUS#I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!!!#WHY ISN'T HE REAL?!?!?!#周棋洛
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For the First Time in Over a Year, I Present to You: Oneshot Friday!
#6: The Delinquent, Part One
How did Duncan become a part of the marching band, anyways? Set two years before the current blog timeline. Thanks to @elskamo for the idea!
Duncan knew he was trouble. He caused problems on purpose, whether it be breaking school rules, petty vandalism, illegal driving… His list of offenses seemed endless. It wasn’t important that everything he did was clearly a thinly veiled cry for attention from his parents -- people hardly paid attention to that part.
His parents tried to force him in every sport imaginable to keep him busy, but nothing clicked. He got in too many fights with the football players, popped too many soccer balls, cheated too many basketball games, antagonized too many track and fielders. Even with a parole officer enforcing Duncan’s attendance, Duncan still managed to sneak off and do all the troublesome things he wanted. For his parents, the school, the local police department, and the local juvie, it was a nightmare of an enigma.
And that enigma may or may not be why he was sitting in the principal’s office.
“Mr. Sarno,” the principal said with great exasperation, “we’re enrolling you in the band program next year.”
“What!?” Duncan shouted, jumping from his seat. “No way! You can’t make me do that!”
“Yes, I can. Sit down,” the principal replied evenly. Duncan begrudgingly obeyed. “Your parents support the decision completely. It is by far one of our more time-consuming extracurriculars, and it will do well to teach you discipline. There’s no sidelines or benches in the marching band, Mr. Sarno. I’ve already talked to the head band director, and he is letting you play percussion.”
“Oh, wow. I’m so glad he’s ‘letting’ me play percussion. I don’t even get a choice in what instrument I play. What a great honor,” Duncan grumbled, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“Furthermore,” the principal continued as if Duncan hadn’t spoken, “you will have lessons every day after school until Mr. McLean deems it appropriate to stop them.”
“Dude!”
“Mr. Sarno, the majority of your offenses occur directly after school hours. We are trying to steer your energy towards something productive; you are in no position to negotiate this. Your parole officer will have more travel details.”
And so sophomore year came, and with that came the first day of summer band, which was basically a way to eat up even more of his free time. Perfect. Just what he wanted: to spend more time with the band dweebs.
He made his way into the band room, deliberately choosing to stand in the back. No one approached him, which was just as well, because he didn’t plan on talking to anyone anyways. He had his “scary face” on for a reason. All he wanted was to get in and out of here as fast as possible.
The band director gave a grand monologue like he was some reality TV show host, talking about the upcoming halftime show and the schedule and other nonsense that Duncan didn’t care to listen to. Suddenly, all the band nerds started to file out the door, and Duncan was sure he could make a break for it, until --
“Duncan Sarno.” He turned to see the head band director standing directly in front of him. “Mr. McLean. Pleasure to meet you, buddy.”
“Don’t call me ‘buddy’,” Duncan cut in.
“Got it,” Mr. McLean responded with the same tone of voice, no sharpness or anything. Hm. Duncan would have to work that out of him -- find a way to get kicked out as soon as possible.
“Anyways, you’ll meet the rest of the band in a second. I just want to show you some basic percussion stuff so you’re not totally lost when we start teaching percussion drumline audition music tomorrow.”
“I have to audition for shit?”
“Well, technically, anyways. I promised the principal you’d be as involved as possible, marching and all. So, you get a free ticket onto the drumline.”
“Lucky me,” Duncan mumbled coldly.
But Mr. McLean ignored that and proceeded to set up some sort of drum, propping it up on a stand meant to hold it. Absentmindedly, Duncan kicked the stand just as Mr. McLean went to put the drum on it. Duncan smirked, hoping to make a few thousand dollars worth of damage to the drum, but Mr. McLean grabbed it by the bottom before it hit the floor, catching the falling stand with his foot.
Without a word about Duncan’s behavior, Mr. McLean finished setting up the instrument. “This is a bass drum,” he said casually, “and these are mallets.” He gave Ducan two sticks with balls at the end of them. “You hold one in each hand, and use them to hit one side of the drum. Usually, you’ll never hit the same side twice in a row, you always alternate. Go ahead, give it a try.”
Turns out he could hit it pretty hard without it breaking -- nice to know. He hit it a little harder, and the sound echoed off various instruments in the room. Hm.
He raised his arms about a foot away from the heads of the drum, ready to strike with deadly force, but before he could, Mr. McLean swiped the mallets from his hands. Oddly enough, he was not met with a scowl or a scold, but a smile.
“It’s gonna take a lot to make me kick you out of this band, you know,” Mr. McLean said smugly.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll just break stuff while we’re not practicing, and you’ll want me out before the first game.”
“You won’t have time.”
Duncan raised his brow. “Then I just won’t do anything.”
Chris shrugged. “You’ll get run over by a sousaphone.”
“I’ll put in the minimum effort.”
“Half the band does that anyway, so it’s not really rebellious.”
“I’ll do things wrong on purpose to mess up the show!”
“We can put you on front ensemble and give you no parts, and stick you next to a section leader to boot.”
“Thought you promised the principal I had to march?”
“Look,” Mr. McLean’s voice grew serious, “if you want this to be a big waste of time, then that’s up to you. I’m not opposed to making you stand in front of an instrument table where the section leader will smack you every time you reach for something. But I want this to be a good experience for you, okay? Not just to keep you out of juvie, but to give you something that you want to do. A good pastime. I don’t care how many times you’ve almost been expelled or how many fights you’ve gotten into, with my students even -- I am not giving up on you. Got it?”
Duncan stared at Chris with narrowed eyes. That was most definitely a lie he’d heard from teachers time and time again. “Yeah, whatever,” Duncan muttered, and Mr. McLean simply continued going over sheet music and drums like there was no bite in Duncan’s voice.
True to his word, though, Mr. McLean proved time and time again that he’d never give up on Duncan.
Maybe Duncan let optimism get to him. Maybe he stopped trying to get attention by petty delinquency. Maybe he let the band room feel like home, and maybe he made a few friends here and there -- it wasn’t important. He’d do something to get out of this, just like he did with everything else. He’d find out what Mr. McLean’s limit was and skyrocket past it, earning him a one way ticket out of the Wawanakwa High School band program.
But maybe that was it. Maybe he didn’t want to figure out what the limit was this time. Maybe he didn’t want to leave.
Unfortunately, life wouldn’t let Duncan enjoy something for long.
To be continued…
#total drama marching#total drama au#total drama writing#td duncan#td chris#td chris mclean#chris mclean#tdi#tda#tdwt#tdas#total drama fanfic#oneshot friday
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Raise yourselves up (We’re done)
Two prompts in one; let’s do this. I tweaked the ideas a bit though.
It was Bustier who broke the news to Marinette and Chloe, and she did it once again the most inappropriate fashion, “-And so the class feels it would be best if both of you were excluded from the class trip at the end of the year.” She finished. The class was just about to let out and she told the two girls in front of them all.
There were mean snickers and smug looks from the other students. The ones who just avoid the girls’ gazes; Adrien, Juleka, and Rose. The three had decided to stay out of it and just side with the majority. Marinette and Chloe had become best friends after Lila had gotten her hooks into class the year before. She turned all of Marinette’s dearest friends to ex-friends and turned them into bullies. That was fine with Marinette. She was done with two-faced people; done with turn-coats, and cowards. Marinette didn’t need them. Or want them. Chloe at least had the guts to stand on her own two feet and for what she believed in. It was a new year and a new Marinette.
Neither blond nor bluenette blinked.
“That’s fine,” Marinette shrugged. “It will be a relief not to have to fundraise for the trip.”
Chloe smirked, “Ditto. A trip to New York City, completely unfunded by the school, is going to be a lot to pay for.”
“They’ll have plenty of time though,” Marinette hummed. “A little less than a year.” The two girls cast them cool looks, “Good luck!” They chimed as the bell rang.
No one understood why they didn’t react the way they thought. Alya had expected tears from Marinette. Rage from Chloe. Then apologies and promises to do better. In fact, they all did. But they didn’t get it. Instead, they were left wondering why the two girls laughed their way out of the classroom.
It would take them months to realize.
Both girls knew though. Chloe always managed to convince her parents to fund thirty percent of whatever grand trip the class took every year. Marinette managed to put together enough amazing fundraisers to raise sixty percent of the funds needed. Everyone else in class only ever managed to pull together the last ten percent. Barely.
The next day the brand new World Travelers’ Club announced their formation and invited anyone to join. A few members of the class perked up until they heard Marinette and Chloe were the presidents. Instead, the class bashed the club and joked it was the girls’ lame attempt at making friends.
That was the last they heard of the club.
To the rest of the students of Bustier’s class’s credit, they attempted right away to start fundraising plans. However, no one in the class knew just when they should start and no one had any unique ideas; they only had a car cash fundraiser, the usual bake sale, maybe a raffle. Standard stuff they were sure would work. After Marinette, the former class president, and resident bully as far as they were concerned, always started off with those. Never realizing that she only started out with them at the very beginning of the year, and never stopped there. Nor did they realize just how much planning went into each event.
The class's first event was a car wash in November. It was a poor idea, as the weather had begun to take a turn for the worst and barely any cars showed up. They hosted it at the school figuring people would want to help out school children. Nino played music. And all the friends had a blast. But the kids made a total of 143 dollars a days’ worth of work. They vowed their next fundraiser would be better.
During the two months, Marinette and Chloe and the rest of the World Travelers’ club; Kagami, Claude, Aurore, Marc, Luka, Ondine, and a bunch of other students who always wanted to see the world fundraised like crazy. They decided that their class trip would be to six different places; Los Angeles, Star City, Central City, Metropolis, Gotham, and finally New York City. It would be a tour. They would spend two weeks in each city, touring and visiting, before moving on to the next. Each city had its own highlights and hotels that need to be arranged and paid for. Marinette did the math; they would need to raise a little less than $35,000 to pay for everything. She made it an even $40,000 to be safe.
Marinette set up a go fund me page an hour later. It wouldn’t be easy but Marinette knew they could do it if they worked hard and fast. (She only half-heartedly glared at Chloe when two grand mysteriously was donated to the club’s go-fund-me five minutes after she announced it the class. She did glare when Jagged and Clara both gave five grand each to their favorite designer and faux-niece. But stopped when Kagami said her mother was also donating $3,000 to the club.)
A week after the club’s formation, they had their first fundraiser. A car wash. Marinette knew it was best to get that one done as soon as possible while the summer heat was still around. It went great. They had it at a local park. Chloe played music off her phone. During the event, they sold ice cream and other cold sweets. Ondine had the great idea of selling full water balloons to children so they could run around. Marc sold quick funny Caricatures of customers. They raised a total of $2752, minus the two hundred for expenses that Chloe and Mariette fronted themselves.
The second fundraiser Bustier’s class held was a bake sale. It was in the middle of December and more or less a last-minute idea. Alya spearheaded the event, remembering how much money they pulled in from the last bake sale. She had the smart idea of doing it during a pep rally. Only to remember at the last minute that Marinette usually supplied all the best goods freely given from the bakery. Or made them herself. It didn’t take a genius to know that Alya nor any of the class would be welcome in the bakery based on the cold looks Tom and Sabine had given Alya last time she went in with her mother. So Alya declared all the kids would make their own goods.
…Four people got food poisoning; one of them was Kim. Most of the baked goods were dry and hard and virtually unappealing. Rose’s sugar cookies sold well but mostly because they were one of the few things that tasted and looked good. The class made a total of 128 bucks. They were lucky they weren’t sued.
The World Travelers’ club’s second fundraiser was actually a pool party at Chloe’s. She had led the entire event. The weather was still hot. They got Luka and his new band My Shadow’s Wonderland to play; Kitty section had sadly broken up due to Lila’s schemes months before. The club members sold tickets to get in. They also sold food: hot dogs, hamburgers, veggie burgers, ice cream, and funnel cakes. Kagami sold Balloon which caused her friends to do double-takes. Because Kagami knew how to make balloon animals, what in the world? Marinette and Marc did face paint and temp tattoos. Nearly everyone from school showed up. Even Bustier’s class, though they hadn’t seemed to realize The World travelers’ club was hosting. They earned a total of $3101. Marinette had long since learned the greatest trick of the fundraiser; don’t let make it obvious it’s a fundraiser. Make it fun and people would come.
Their third fundraiser happened two weeks later just at the beginning of October. It was Claude’s idea and he called it; “Can you Arcade it?” No laughed but he thought it was hilarious. They had got permission to use the gym to set up a video Gamers’ paradise. He got this idea when he heard the old arcade had finally shut down after Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone had opted to retire. He got the couple to donate the old game machine for a day to help them out. Claude only had to babysit their pet Parakeet for two weeks while they were out of town. Old arcade games line the walls. New games with TV borrowed from the club members were set up with the new game systems. They sold food and anything they thought a gamer would want. Aurore somehow got the local Taco Bell to sponsor the event so ever twenty minutes or so they had a deal with commercial playing in the background. This fundraiser attracted most parents with younger children; though a good percent was just nostalgic dads who ended up playing the games as much as the kids. $1700 was earned; most of it in quarters.
Their next fundraiser happened at the end of October and it was a haunted house; or rather a haunted school. They teamed up with a few other clubs to put the event together. They didn’t earn that much money; $300 after it was split between the clubs. However, all the kids had a ton of fun.
When November hit, and the weather turned cold, and everyone wanted everything pumpkin spice. (And Bustier’s class first fundraiser was about to happen) Marinette held did her bake sale. She with the help of the other members of the club made all the sweets; for once she didn’t have to get her parents to donate the baked goods. In additional, Marinette and the gang sold handmade little dolls of Ladybug and Chat Noir and the new miraculous heroes that had replaced the last team. The dolls were a big hit. Such a hit that Chloe got the idea of marketing them online for a much better price. The fundraiser earned about $600 bucks which weren’t bad.
Chloe and Marinette started selling the dolls for $10 bucks each plus shipping and handling. Chloe and Marinette made the dolls. The others took care of the shipping part. The
dolls only cost 2 bucks to make, as they were mostly yarn, so they profited 8. Chloe said that was how the business made money.
By the time December hit, they were had raised more half of their overall target goal.
During the fundraisers, each kid used their own influence via social media to get people to go their Go-Fund-me page. Luka and his band, all of who members of the club anyway, used Youtube and Instagram to promote their bands also asked fans to make a donation. Aurore used her Ladybug site Bugout to ask her fans. Ondine did swim training videos did the same. Marc who did drawing tutorial asked too. They didn’t get a lot from; a dollar here, three there, maybe a five if they were lucky but every bit count.
Their next fundraiser was a raffle in one of the empty unsure ballrooms of Chloe’s hotel, and it happened not long before Christmas break. This was spearheaded by Aurore. The strategy was sound; most people were still rushing to get presents. All they have to do was bid on the item they want. She got local businesses to donate. A fancy dinner from one restaurant, a bouquet of roses, expensive perfumes, a massage chair; a bunch of gift cards of various stores. Chloe got her dad to donate two items a spa day and a luxury Spa weekend. Marc offered art lessons. He also auctioned off some of his portraits. Ondine offered swim lessons. Aurore got offered a meet-and-greet with Ladybug, who even showed up to make an appearance. Kagami offered sword fighting lessons. Luka offers guitar lessons. His bandmate, Naomi, offered drum lessons. Another girl, Bridgette offered piano lessons. Marinette offered her usually big-ticket item; a custom design by MDC. The night was a hit. Once again, Marinette’s item was one of the highest bid items of the night. All in all, the kids brought in a total of $4728.
January came and Bustier’s class decided it was time for another fundraiser. Just as the World’s traveler’s club decided it was time for a break. Though they still sold the dolls; which had brought in $1800 since they had started selling them; Ladybug and her crew apparent had fans all over the world. This meant by the time February hit, they had just over $10,000 left to raise and five months to do it. They would leave at the beginning of June. They already paid for all of their plane tickets and paid for their hotel rooms. All their tours booked and paid for. All reservations made. And then reconfirmed by a rather stern Chloe. Passports were bought.
Bustier’s fundraiser idea was once again headed by Alya, the new class president after Lila decline the role as she would be far too busy. Alya decided a raffle would be perfect. The one they did the year before had been amazing. Again, Alya forgot that Marinette and Chloe handled nearly everything which was why it was such a big hit. Alya had to use the school gym.
“It’s not like I’d ask Chloe,” Alya huffed to her boyfriend. “I’m just glad I won’t have to deal with her or Marinette on our trip.”
“You said it, babe,” Nino leaned back in his desk. “No need for that kind of drama.”
The raffle was their most successful fundraiser so far much to Alya smug face when Marinette and Chloe walked into class on Monday. All the kids in the class participated and offered their own talents for use; offering lessons or gift cards from their parents' businesses. Their biggest hit was a picture and an autograph from Adrien Agreste.
“We raised over a thousand dollars,” Alya crossed her arms. A satisfied look on her face. She had worked hard. They had all worked hard. “Beat that!”
Marinette and Chloe shared a look before they literally fell to the ground laughing. “I can’t!” Chloe gasped for air. “I can’t breathe!”
Marinette struggled to contain herself, “This! I!” She couldn’t even get out the words. She was laughing so hard.
They didn’t even bother to pay the glares they received any attention. It was just too funny.
For the rest of the week, it was the running joke between them. Every now and then, the other students in the class would “Beat that!” And laughter from the back of the room.
February came and the kids decided in anticipation for Valentine ’s Day. They would do a Date Auction. It was Ondine’s idea and it was a huge success. Surprising considering it, it was supposed to be simple and easy and something to get them back into the fundraiser's mood after a month's breath. Most of the kids now had a strong online following and become popular among the youth of Paris for their awesome parties. So when word spread that the World Travelers’ Club was doing a date auction; a lot of students from school showed up. A lot of students from other schools showed up. One girl traveled from England specifically for Luka.
Marinette, followed by Chloe, Then Luka, then Kagami, then Aurore was the highest auctioned date of the night. Claude and Felix were both a little put out. Marc didn’t mind. Mostly because of the best looking guy at the auction bid on him.
All in all, they raised $2100.
The next fundraiser was in March. The spring warm weather had hit in full. Flowers were blooming. The fundraiser was a carnival Luka planned. Everyone set up carnival booths and games and fun prizes. Live music. They had it in on the school soccer field. A lot of parents with their kids showed up, looking for a family-friendly event to enjoy. Total they raised $2421.
Marinette’s dolls brought in an additional $900. Then it was official they only needed 5,000 more.
Bustier’s class tried another fundraiser; a dance party in the school gymnasium; hosted by Nino. They sold tickets to get in, snacks and drinks. They put off filers everywhere and did everything they could to promote the event. They made $750 dollars. And were proud.
In April, the World travelers’ club did another bake sale and another car wash and a ping pong tournament was a really big hit for some reason. By the end of April, they had met their goals. All loose ends tied up. All the tickets bought. Permissions slip signed. Four teachers, who were more than excited to volunteer to spend near all-expense-paid vacation in the most popular cities in the world, would be chaperoning. They were done.
By the first Monday of May, Chloe and Marinette breathed a sigh a relief as the stress had finally left their shoulders. The only thing they had to worry about was packing, and they had a month to do it.
The two girls once again arrived to see the smug grins of the classmates' faces. Bustier’s class had been fundraisers like crazy so much so that even the teacher was looking over her students proudly.
“We’ve raised $5,829,” Lila announced. The Italian girl looked smug as she had done al the work. “Fundraising was hard but we did what we had to.”
“Way better then we did under the last class president,” Alya hissed.
Marinette and Chloe looked at each other again. It was Chloe who spoke, “So you’re not going to New York?���
The question caught everyone off guard.
“What?” Alya hissed. “Of course we’re going to New York!”
Marinette sighed, “No, WE” She pointed between her and Chloe, “And the World Traveler’s club is going to New York and a bunch of other places. We raised over $40,000.” Most of the students turned green.
“$40- $40,000,” Nino stuttered. “What? how?”
“We worked hard, like we always,” Chloe flipped her hair. “That was our goal since September. Its how much it would cost to pay for the entire trip. For every member and required chaperones to go. Why? What was your goal?”
It went quiet. Alya spoke next, “Goal?”
Again, Chloe and Marinette
“Goal,” Marinette nodded. “The amount you needed to fund the entire trip to New York?”
“We didn’t have a goal,” Rose answered.
The two girls stared at them.
“What airline are you using?” Chloe asked. “How much do the tickets cost?”
No answer.
“What hotel are you staying at?”
No answer.
“Did you get your passports yet?”
Nothing.
“Have you made any reservations?” Marinette asked. “Any down payments?” No answered. Just pale faces.
Chloe just shook her head, “Did you at least get approval from the school board to clear the trip?”
“We need them to approve it?” Kim asked. “Why it’s our trip?”
“Safety and legal concerns,” Marinette said slowly. “It takes weeks to get approved. Permissions slips have to be signed and turned in. Chaperones found.”
“Miss Bustier’s our chaperone,” Mylene said brightly, and the teacher nodded eagerly.
Marinette fought the urge to scoff. Bustier couldn’t chaperone a ping pong tournament. “Fine but with a class this size, you need at least two more. Maybe three.”
Chloe crossed her arms, “How were you getting to New York? What were your plans? Did you book any tours? What were you going to do in New York?”
No one said a word.
Marinette smirked, “Good on you, I guess. You must have some killer fundraising ideas with only a month and a half until summer break.” She sighed. “I couldn’t do it myself. Way too much stress. The World Traveler’s club was killing ourselves since September to get everything done.”
“September,” Rose gasped. “Really.” She deflated. “We didn’t start till November, and the car wash was pretty bad.” There were nods.
“Yep,” Chloe said. “I think we did about fifteen or more fundraisers. Little ones and big ones. How many did you guys do?”
Nino frowned, “Five.”
“We worked really hard, though!” Alix slammed her fist on the desk. “Nothing worked.”
Marinette and Chloe shared another look.
“Shame,” Marinette said as they glided to their seats.
“Last year, the class did so well,” Chloe smirked. “Wonder what changed?”
“Nothing!” Alya shouted. “We did the same thing we do every year. Bake Sale, car wash, Raffle, Dance Party; everything!
There were nods.
“It’s not fair!”
“We didn’t do anything wrong.”
There more shouts and complaints.
Bustier calmed everyone down, “Now class, let’s not give up hope. Our trip last year was a success. And I know we can pull it off again. What did we do then that we aren’t doing now?”
The class went silent as they thought up what they were doing wrong. Surprisingly, it was Juleka who answered, “Marinette did most of the organizing,” She whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear; one of the few brave things she did all year. “Her and Chloe come up with all the fundraiser ideas and they plan them out too. They always did; every year.”
“This year they didn’t,” Rose frowned.
And just like that, it was like that, it was like a balloon burst inside the students.
“They always plan the best fundraisers,” Kim frowned. “And we always met our goals.”
Lila glared. She didn’t think that when she convinced the class to kick the girls off the trip that they’d be getting rid of anyone who did any real work. However, the glare quickly turned into a frown with a few crocodile tears, “Then we didn’t they help us? We needed them obviously.”
Before any of the other students could direct their anger to the girls at their betrayal, Nino shrugged, “Because we told them they couldn’t come with us, remember? So they didn’t help out. They told us they wouldn’t. Why should they? It wasn’t their trip.”
Frustration and rage built inside Alya. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. The class should’ve been headed to a glamorous trip to New York, with Marinette and Chloe left to suffer alone in Paris wishing they had been invited. Where was justice?
“I bet you're happy!” Alya growled at her ex-friend. “Our trip is ruined thanks to you.”
Marinette smirked, “No. I didn’t do anything. I was and am in no way involved with your class trip. Just like you wanted.”
“You could’ve helped us!” Alix yelled.
“Why?” Chloe asked.
Silence.
“You made it clear we couldn’t go to New York with you,” Chloe said. “Why would we help you? It’s not like we’re friends with you.”
Angry eyes and red faces filled the classroom. No one wanted to admit that they got themselves into trouble.
Alya had to be held back in her chair by Nino, “You could’ve warned me how hard being class president was. Or what we needed to do to go on the trip. But you didn’t care about us. You don’t think about us at all.”
Marinette leaned back in her seat, an easy smile on her face, with frost in her eyes, “Sweetie, I haven’t thought any of you for months.”
Before anyone could say anything else. Bustier decided to try to take control again, “Marinette, Chloe; there must be something you can do. Maybe the class can tag along on your trip.”
Hopeful expressions overtook the students' faces.
Both girls looked at the teacher like she was stupid.
“Even if that was possible,” Chloe narrowed her eyes. “And it’s not. We had everything booked for months, reservations made. How will they pay for it? We only raised enough for the World Travelers’ Club.”
It was Adrien who answered, “Can’t you do something?” He said with hopeful eyes. “Our friends are really looking forward to it.”
“No.” Marinette snapped. “They are not my friends. And even if they were, it would take another 40 grand to get everyone in class on the trip. There’s no time to get that type of cash. Even if there was, it would still be weeks to get School board approval. The World Travelers’ leave on the first. There’s nothing to do.”
“We’re not risking our trip for yours,” Chloe and Marinette chimed together, looking very much like the Ice Queens the students had called them behind their backs.
That was that. Alya and the other students would shoot glares at the two girls, and make mean comments for the next month; mostly about them being selfish. The girls didn’t pay them any mind. Lila tried to join the World Travelers’ club at the last minute, only to be unanimously told to come back in September. Damocles, at the urgency of Lila and Alya, tried to intervene and stop the trip the ground, it wouldn’t be safe. Boy, was he surprised when the school board called him into a meet to speak about his future employment and the rampant bullying and oversight that had been going on in the school.
Bustier’s class ended up going to Disney World Paris for the weekend, before the end of May. And posted tons of videos, most of which had comments about getting away from bullies and the drama of the class.
The World Travelers’ Club left on schedule on June 1st. They would return for two months.
The pictures they posted was the talk of the school. Which was saying something since the school wasn’t even in session. The first pictures were of the grand hotels they stayed at, the amazing strange American food they ate. Carne Asada fries, yum!
In Los Angelus, the club toured Warner Brothers studios and ran into the cast of the new Star Trek movies. They attended the world premiere of the Joss Weadon Superhero movie. They got all the classic tourist pictures of Los Angeles. Though Marinette and Chloe, when they had explored by themselves, ended up running into the Rock and had a picture of themselves hanging from his biceps as he posed.
Their next stop was Star City. They toured the local museum, toured Queen Industries, met Oliver Queen himself. Then they even got to meet the Green Arrow.
Alya nearly broke her phone when she saw Aurore and the superhero.
After that, the Club went to Central city where they visited Star Labs. It was Aurore’s idea. It was the most meta-filled city in the world; known for the most outrageous heroes and rogues in the world.
It didn’t take long for the club to run into the flash, in this case, he was fighting against Captain Cold, Heatwave, and the rest of the rogues.
The fight wasn’t favoring either side. But the class watched eagerly from where they stood on the sidewalk.
They had to duck quickly when Captain cold was blasted into the wall next to them.
Leonard Snart was surprised when a young girl helped him up. He looked and saw a bunch of kids standing there, torn between watching him and watching the fight.
“Are you okay, Mr. Cold?” She asked, with a heavy French accent, her blue eyes big with worry.
“…Fine, kid,” He answered. “Shouldn’t you lot being running off.”
The bluenette and the blond girl next to her shared a look.
“Can we get a picture?” The Bluenette asked.
Leonard Snart paused, “…Sure.” There was, in fact, a first time for everything.
The kids cheered. And each one started scrambled with their phones to get their picture. It wasn’t long before Heatwave showed up to see what was wrong, only to be pulled in by a push blond to take pictures as well.
That was when the flash Showed up but Aurore quickly pulled him into an interview. Slowly but surely, the rogues and the team flash found themselves entertaining and signing autographs for a bunch of French kids; answering all their questions and telling stories.
Later when Aurore and the rest posted their pictures, and the interview with the Flash and his rogues, Alya did break her phone. As far as she was concerned life was fair.
In metropolis, They met Superman, Supergirl, Krypton (the former superboy), and the new Superboy. Superman had heard from the other league members of the French class touring different cities and how great they were.
They toured the Daily Planet and Aurore got one on one time with Lois Lane. They got to see LexCorp and had a tour given by Lex Luthor himself. Lex had heard about the class from Queen and Wells, the CEOs of Star Labs and Queen industries, and decided one-up his competition in any way he could
Then the kids' wen to Gotham. The pictures from that trip made half the kids in Bustiers’ class cry. The best pictures were of Marinette sitting in the Batmobile; Batman looking stern next to her. The ones of the club with Bruce Wayne and his kids were pretty epic too.
Finally, their lasts destination was New York City. And the kids saw everything. They did the entire tourist thing; The statue of liberty, times Square, New York Times. Everything. However, the highlight was the tour of Stark Tower/Industries; led by Tony Stark, with Pepper to manage him. Because Tony Stark didn’t get one-upped by Lex Luthor or Bruce Wayne. Then the kids took a surprise trip to the Avengers compound.
Marinette and Chloe decided walking into the training room only to see Captain America, Thor, and Bucky Barnes working out with their shirts off was the best part of the entire trip.
Pictures and videos were taken of each member of the club holding various Avenger weapons. Chloe refused to admit her hand trembled when she was given over Captain America’s shield.
The funniest video was supposed to be each member of the World Travels’ club struggling to pick up Thor’s hammer. It was pretty funny. Until Marinette lift it like it weighed nothing. Mouths dropped. The Avengers were stunned. Who was this small bluenette worthy of Thor’s hammer?
Then Thor shouted that Marinette would come to Asgard with him.
Then Tony had to tell Thor that he couldn’t kidnap kids.
To which Thor said, “What about Peter? Where did he come from?”
“I’m his mentor,” Tony groaned.
Thor nodded, “Then I shall be the girl’s mentor. The Captain shall train young Chloe. Natasha will have Kagami as they are suited for each other; mostly because they strike fear in hearts everyone. Pepper will get Aurore; as they were meant to rule. Hawkeye will get Claude. The Soldier of Winter will get young Luka. You shall have Peter. The rest will be divided among the rest of the avengers. There. All done.”
A moment of silence, and then Tony yelled, “That’s not how this works.”
It was all on video.
It went viral in an hour.
Marinette had to portal back to Paris to deal with several different Akumas several different times; most were just about jealousy.
When the kids returned to Paris. They wasted no time relaying the stories of their adventures.
When September came and school started. Marinette and Chloe once again walked into class together, with smiles on their faces, only to meet glum looks on the students' faces. They paid no mind as they headed back to their seats in the back.
Before class could begin, Rose approached them, a hopeful smile on her face, “Marinette, Chloe; we were hoping you’d come with us on your next trip.” Her smile widened “And Marinette, maybe you’d like to be class president again.”
None of the other students looked happy at the idea but all of them could admit that the World Travelers’ club had been amazing. And if they ever wanted another great trip, they had no choice but to deal with the Ice Queens.
Marinette and Chloe shared a look and then shot the class cold smirks, “No!”
“We’ll be far too busy,” Chloe smiled, coolness in her tone. “We decided we can no longer want to go on any more class trips. With you.”
“The World Travelers’ club takes a lot of work,” Marinette added.
“Good Luck though,” The two girls chimed together. “You have plenty of time to fundraise though.”
“A little less than a year,” Chloe said. “Our club starts planning in about two weeks. We’ll start fundraising right after. We’re thinking about Japan. Luckily this trip won’t be as expensive as our last.”
“Good luck with your trip though,” Marinette leaned back in her seat. “Who knows? If your lucky, it’ll be as fun as your last one. We know you worked so hard. Earned over $5,000 right?”
“Beat that!” Chloe added.
Then both girls burst into laughter.
Marinette wiped her eyes, “Besides you don’t want us there on your trip.”
“Too much Drama, right?” Chloe offered.
The bell rang. And the class’ resident ice queens sat in back with smiles on their faces and ice in their eyes.
#ml salt#ml salt fic#Marinette deserves better#marinette dupen chang#chloe bourgeois#chloe deserves better#class salt#adrien salt
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