#max actually has something in the notes here… too bad it didn’t really shine through in the show | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

withoneheadlight · 3 years ago

Text

| billy & will + pre-harringrove | full fic in spanish |

There’s an in-between. The high school and the middle school. A bare piece of land, yellowed from the lack of grass and the rough kiss of the sun and, right in the middle, an old shack.

It's a shabby thing that accumulates lack of re-paintings and excess of humidity but that’s out of sight, in that way of things that are just there but no one wastes time looking at anymore are.

That's where they meet.

Billy lights up a smoke. Slides his ass up an ancient, long retired desk, pasture now of the damp and rot, and leans against the peeling wood. Front and back-row seat to the long column of trees the wind’s rippling along on the other side of the wire fence. The ember warms up his lips as he inhales a deep puff and exhales a,

“You’re getting soft, Billy Hargrove”

He leans his head back and closes his eyes, ears on that ceaseless chirping of the bids that sews together the slow-passing hours of the days and nights of Indiana, and on the delighted screams from the middle-schoolers, remembering that, somewhere in there, there's a bunch of kids who will still be laughing just as hard, just as happy, a few years down the road. That maybe even Max could be one of them, if Billy hurries. That maybe he will too, if Billy is able to control that instinctive reaction that pulls his skin inward and screams at him to stopstopstop, that the soft skin shreds, falls apart so easily.

But maybe it can be both of them, if Billy manages to clench his teeth hard enough and keep on softening.

‘Cause soft skin hurts when it breaks but,

"Hey!"

Sometimes it’s worth it.

Will’s smiling wide. Stops running, abruptly, and then just stands in there, panting. He’s got a funny nose and giant eyes. The kind of bangs that make you wanna blow them out of his eyes even though what they're is too short, actually, and Billy’s always thought he'd do better in life if he didn't. Notice things. If he didn't see that widewidewidewide smile and could read it so easily.

"I've been dying to show you this!" Will kneels down into the grass, chopping out the words in between exhalations. Pulls at the zipper of his backpack, chest heaving, and he doesn't realize he's going to get dirt on the knees of his jeans or that Billy can read it. His relief. Of finding him in here and not just an empty desk. Of how for a kid every single day more means 'You care’.

(About me)

It was early December. Friday right after last period and one of those silly things that only happen in movies. Something so like scripted and choreographed that Billy nearly considered looking up at the ceiling to make sure John Hughes wasn't silently watching them, taking notes from above. They crashed in the middle of a corner. Billy sped up ‘cause he was in a hurry and the only way to catch Max in time lately was to intercept her right out of class. Will ‘cause he's always going like that, Billy knows now. Always a thousand miles per hour. Always verging on time-jump speed to then being the kind of kid who seems so quiet it's scary. They crashed. Hard. In the middle of that corner. Papers flying all over and a curse (Will) and a muffled groan (Billy) and they ended up pulling at the same paper one from each corner. A drawing. Trolls and wizards and a castle and an emerald-green light. A star in the distance, auguring bad omens. Billy forgot to be frightening and Will must have forgotten he was supposed to be frightened when he blurted out a,

"Fuck, Byers. This is frikin’ fantastic."

No fear or reticence or that way he sometimes has of bumping into words and stumbling, just a "Really?" eyes huge and bangs brushing against his eyelashes as he blinked when Billy also forgot he was also supposed to― well, supposed to be Billy Hargrove.

"’Got more?"

So now he skips English instead of Algebra, every Tuesday and Thursday. Sneaks off to that in-between place he knows no one wastes time looking at anymore to light up a smoke, same time as Will has his recess. And the kid doesn't always manage to shrug off of his flock of nerds but he’s lucky, some days.

And he brings the drawings.

Orcs and goblins and enchanted mountains on the northwest and it seems to Billy that there are more princes than princesses and that if there are any, they’re almost always sorceresses, almost always queens and that your attention gets hooked on their burning eyes, not in the clothes they’re missing and Billy feels like it's a small grain of sand, this thing they’re doing. Knows that someone’s already keeping a solid ground under Will's feet ('Joyce' he says it’s her name. And it stings, the way he manages to fit so much love, into such a tiny word). But it also seems to him that maybe it doesn't take much more, for Will, just a few grains of sand, to replace those that being a strange kid in a small town sick with apprehension for what it finds strange, takes every day away from him.

So Billy’s gotta have to clench his teeth ‘till his gums start bleeding ‘cause is that, or let his skin toughen up again. Is that. Or fucking everything up.

And ave María, Billy doesn’t want to fuck it all up again.

So he sucks on his cigarette. Hooks up an eyebrow. Waves his hand to hurry the kid up.

“Mmm. That’s how good you think it is, dickwad? ‘C’mon, got my next class in twenty”

Will flies over the papers. Head nodding and fingers skimming fast. Finds what he’s looking for and yanks it out, raises it up triumphantly in his hand. It’s the sword in the stone and he carries it up to Billy with wet knees and just a little mud-staining. It’s February and the sun’s burning brightly over all the wetness the night’s spent crying. The drawing is a huge dragon, wings made of leather and cartilage, spread out in eclipse in front of the moon, only a few silver rays illuminating the dark knight in front of it. Blue eyes lined in black, blond curls cascading down his back and Billy was clenching his teeth but they part now, ‘cause the figure looks too much like him to be a coincidence. A smile devours his whole mouth. Soft. A joke itching on the tip of his tongue. He grunts a,

“I’ve been called many things. But never this, Byers”

Only half his expression’s visible, eyebrows covered with those thick bangs, and Billy has to once again fight the impulse to blow them out.

“¿Hum?”

“Knight” he says, drawling the teasing tone out “In shining armor”

And It’s such a loss, all that hair. Because it’d pass unseen, if you don’t know him. The way his eyebrows spike up underneath and it burrows in between them, the eagerness of teasing back. But Billy’s lucky, ‘cause it’s been more than two months like this and Billy―

Knows him. Well enough at least. So it doesn't pass unseen to him.

“You know the drill, William. Spit it out. Can see you’re holding it up from miles”

Will purses his lips out tight. Looks like he’s trying but. Nah.

“Wouldn’t be that shiny '' scrunches his nose. Throws a meaningful glance at Billy’s disheveled looks. More thoughtful than not, way more intentional. But that's something he'll figure out when he grows up.

Billy cackles. Will's smile widens, satisfied. Hops onto the desk next to his. Billy offers him the cigarette.

“And―this?” Will shrugs inwardly. Glances up at him. Then down, at the exchange between their hands. Takes the cig in between two fingers and it doesn’t burn but he barely presses them against the filter, anyway, as if he’s afraid it would, all of a sudden.

"Retaliation," Billy half grunts, half laughs, and Will huffs, but swallows a deep breath to gather strength. Exhales. Takes a tiny puff and―

"Argg," coughscoughscoughs "This is. Ugh. It's awful. I don't know how you―” almost throws the cigarette back to him "Ufff, what a―" he hesitates "Yuck"

Billy snorts. Thinks about Max inhaling deep, no more than two weeks ago, eyes pining his in place. Breaking into a violent cough only a second later.

Billy pats Will’s back too.

“That’s good” he says “You better not like it” Will scrunches his whole face “And this too” Billy adds, shaking the drawing a little “This is good, too. Amazingly good, man”

Will. Stares. At him. One. Two. Three long seconds. And Billy hurts a little. With every single one. Three sharp stabs with that newly freed sword. A different kind of ' you care' each one: 'it seems so impossible to me (that you care)'. 'If you think so, maybe it's true (and I do care, that you think it)’. 'Thank you (for caring)'. And then. Those hidden eyebrows. Will’s cheeks puffing out a little when he bites the tip of his tongue and―

"Billy?" his eyes glint, heavy with ill-contained malice.

"Uh?"

"You're the dragon"

"You fucking ass―!"

Billy shoves him sideways. But Will just sways. He doesn't lose footing on that firm ground he’s standing on. Looks back at the drawing, hunches a shoulder up.

"But you’re the knight, too"

He says it in a tone that cuts straight through Billy’s chest Thank you he thinks, even though his soft skin is hurting. And he still doesn't blow hard on that bowl fringe from where it covers Will’s whole forehead but―

Stirs up all his hair instead.

“Eh!!”

“Hey, shitbird. Wanna see the one I’ve made?”

Will nods quickly. All contained-speed and reverberating and sometimes Billy doesn't know how so few people can see it, how big he is for his own skin and he thinks I wish, wish he'd accumulate enough grains of sand to raise up that firm ground under his feet, and get really, really high.

“Sure!”

He keeps it tucked away in the breast pocket of his jacket. Folded in upon itself. Same way he keeps everything else. Folds and layers and at the bottom of pockets no one ever looks at but.

He unfolds it to show it to Will Byers.

“Wow” Will says, and smiles up at Billy like Two months since we crashed against each other and I feel like I know you a little too, Billy Hargrove and Billy hit rock bottom but now at least Max and him sing AC/DC in chorus on the rides back home and Will's voice sounds like 'You're good' as he runs his fingertips over the graphite outlines of the skull and repeats, "Wow"

“Gonna have it done” Billy inhales a deep drag of Marlboro and 'Four Months to Eighteen' and for a moment it’s like he could feel the smoke curl up inside his lungs before blowing it out. The image is as pretty as it’s stupid. He glances at the open jaw of the drawing and thinks maybe he'd like a drag too "Have it healed for summer and―"

“What’s happening here?”

Steve.

Harrington.

Hand on his hips, preppy pastel polo lapels up, Ray-Bans holding up that way his hair swirls without really taming it. The twelve o'clock sun is shining sideways from his back and he's pretty. Painfully pretty. And Billy’s sure it's impossible that this redneck raised on corn and money amassed in dubious moral business is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen but sometimes he forgets. That it is impossible because. Fuck. It so seems like it. Light flicking on the ends of his hair where it curls. Under his ear. In the long curve of his neck. And the world doesn't halt and the birds don't stop chirping and the clouds don't part and no preternatural shit happens because this is the black hole where all the world's shit goes, Indiana. But. It so seems like it and,

Billy.

Knew how to breathe but that’s another thing he keeps on forgetting. Every time Steve Harrington passes him by.

He’s gotta force himself. To nod. To stop choking. When Will looks up at him with those big eyes. Questioning.

Apologizing.

Billy Hargrove, from freshly crowned local terror to―

“I was―” Will starts. Inhales. Presses his lips together right before blurting out the truth ‘cause he knows it's the only real way out "Showing Billy my drawings. Sometimes we―"

―the softie whose pride goes high up in his throat every time an eleven-year-old kid says 'Billy, this is good. It's very. Very good, Billy’.

"Sometimes we. Uhm. We―"

Will's already huge eyes get bigger, rounder. As if he’s just realizing that where he's stuck his foot keeps getting muddier, trapping himself all the way in. And Billy smiles lightly at him, sideways, so it’s hidden. From Steve Harrington. From all the world beyond. ‘Cause of that thing about facades and how hard they’re to maintain, when on one side is pressing what you're supposed to be and on the other, relentlessly, what you're hiding.

But Steve’s asking,

“Sometimes―what?” and Will’s eyes are fixed on Billy, two wide-open I’m sorrys and Billy thinks Fuck it, Hargrove. C’mon. Stop hiding.

So he’s the one who says,

“We share our drawings, Harrington”

And Steve.

He’s got those eyes.

They're like a troubled ocean in the heart of winter, those eyes. Hard, hard, hard. Imposing. But soft. So fucking soft. When something catches him off guard. Rolling stones in the breaker. And Billy wants to get swept up in them, like falling along the curve of a wave. Steve looks at him, and at the drawing in his hand, his eyes a swirl and, when he looks up, the calm. And Billy feels as those times when it seemed to him the waves wanted. To wrap around him. To catch him. Soft as the reflecting clouds. And Billy feels as those times when he’d let them. Carry him. Drag him to the shore. Safe and sound.

“Is that yours?” Steve frowns. When he does that. He looks the prettiest. And Billy's heart breaks. In tiny tiny pieces. Thinks This is what it takes, thinks Fuck, thinks, This is how things hurt when you let your skin get soft.

What you don’t have. What you want. What you could―

Fuck.

What you could love so bad you'd rip your own skin off, so they could touch your heart right with their own hands.

Billy nods. Will smiles. Steve’s frown softens and― waveswaveswaves. On an autumn morning. Waves lapping at the surface of an ocean of calm.

And now. Billy sings AC/DC with Max. His heart taking on water when his voice falls off-key and she clutches at her lungs, choking on laughter. Now, he sits in the back of an old shack halfway between who he is and who he should be and so, so very carefully turns at the pages of Will Byers' sketchbook.

And Billy Hargrove hit rock bottom one day in late October. Hit rock bottom and beat into pulp that pretty face he can't stop seeing in his dream. When he's asleep. When he's awake. Hit rock bottom and that's where he's going to stay. It's either that. Or risk coming up to the wrong surface. And it's easier, here at the bottom. Easier to see what matters, when you look up.

Here, Billy takes a breath. Deep. Deeper. Holds onto that air so he has something keeping him alive underwater when Steve snatches the drawing off his hands. Studies it carefully. Says,

"It's―Uhm. Well―" Grins "It's not. Beautiful. Like, conventionally." He eyes cut back to Billy and something in them breaks into whitewater, into that softness he can't help, as if everything else is as much of a lie as 'Billy Hargrove' and all those imaginary walls "But―"

He says ‘But’ and then. The bell goes off.

"Oh!" Will bounces on the spot "I have to―" he yanks the backpack shut "Class!"

He takes off. Running. Turning around right before the corner of the shack to wave at them, flashing one of those smiles Billy has involuntarily categorized as 'the good ones', wide and already almost panting again, before disappearing at the speed of light towards school and to, Billy hopes, be one of those few kids who are still going to be laughing just as hard, just as happy, a few years down the road. If they’re lucky.

(If Billy’s lucky)

Steve Harrington is still there, planted in front of him when the alarm stops.

"Can I bump one of those?" he asks, chin pointing to the smoke Billy's squeezing between his fingers. In the drift of his hair the Ray-Bans stay afloat, capsizing.

Billy bangs the base of the pack against his thigh, pops out a cigarette. Offers it to him. Scrapes his thumb along the wheel when Steve takes it to his lips, leaning forward and― It's broad daylight but in the thin glow of the flame it almost feels like it’s that exact instant when the world begins to fade, darkness turning wide-open spaces into narrow little universes: Steve Harrington and his red lips around the smoke and a small ache in the pad of Billy's thumb from keeping alive the fire and from wanting things with a bigger kind of ache, his heart cauterizing from holding inside the rage of knowing he's never, ever going to have them but―

"But?" Billy asks.

Steve grabs his wrist. Hollows out his cheeks. Inhales deep. Takes him a moment when he pulls away. To let go. Long enough that his fingers could read the way Billy's pulse is raging in his wrist, if he wanted to.

“But” And he’s smiling. Lopsided. He slips into Will's seat and stretches his neck toward the sky. Prolongs the wait. Exhales. "It's cute."

And then his gaze cuts down and he’s searching for him, with those eyes of his. For Billy, who can never stop looking at him so, when he finds him, finds him looking back already.

And Billy―

Billy.

"Cute?"

Billy. Blinks. His hand stops halfway from getting his own cigarette to his mouth. Stops his heart and it feels like time’s stopping too, in this narrowness Steve's presence has reduced the moment into. And he’s smiling big now. His eyes soft. Soft. So fucking soft. And Billy thinks,

You're getting soft too, Billy Hargrove. You want to let him shred off your skin, when Steve says,

"You," snorting a soft laugh, sun melting in his eyes like honey "With Will. Drawing."

Billy wants him to never stop looking at him like that. Wants to lean in, and kiss him.

"Shut up and smoke your fucking cigarette, Harrington" he growls.

And Steve rolls his eyes in a way that screams 'Gotcha, Hargrove', but leans his back against the peeling wood of the shack.

And does as he’s told.

(Next Tuesday, it's not just Will who shows up, when the bell starts ringing)

i just finished translating this and, since i had originally written this part as and stand-alone thing. here it is. idk if it's worth the work of translating it whole, or if i really feel like it but, we'll see!. i've been at war with life and writing this past few weeks but i've been missing you so much, fandom <3<3<3. hope you've been doing well.

also billy + will + drawing is one of my fav hcs and there are a few tiny things more that i wanna write? hopefully i will 🌟

#harringrove #billy hargrove #will byers #steve harrington #stranger things #billy x steve #steve x billy #billy & will #xharringrove

111 notes · View notes

jonsa101 · 4 years ago

Text

Yes, There’s Only 14 Episodes in Season 3 But Sharpwin is On Track and Progressing How They’re Supposed To.

There has been so much talk about this season’s writing and the lack of Sharpwin scenes that I thought I would just address everything in this post.

First, the writing this season is NOT BAD! In my honest opinion I actually think this season has some of the best writing in the series. Compared to season two, the writing is head and shoulders above what we got last year. More than ever before we are diving into these characters stories, seeing friendships form, getting a better look into their home life and seeing secondary characters shine! This is a good thing! These were the things that were so desperately needed in season 2 but we didn’t see this play out. I’ve said this before in my infamous season 2 rant and I’ll say it again, a show can’t solely depend on a ship! It has to have great storytelling and good character development for all of it’s main characters. This is what New Amsterdam failed to do in season two and they’re now making it up for it in season 3. The only area I would say the storyline suffered was the Cassian, Helen and Max “love triangle.” There was definitely more intent with that plot before the pandemic. Cassian was not only supposed to be a catalyst for Jealous Max and Sharpwin but he was also supposed to come in and challenge the way Max did things. Cassian’s whole thing was self care first=great patient care which was the complete opposite of Max and the two of them were supposed to clash. Obviously this completely changed due to the pandemic. You can’t have a storyline about a doctor prioritizing himself first for “better patient care”in the midst of thousands of doctors globally throwing themselves on the frontlines and even loosing their lives to COVID-19. It would have been a terrible look to have that storyline so they clearly scrapped it! What we saw was probably them trying to salvage whatever was left from the original plot while they still had Daniel Dae Kim in the limited amount of episodes for season 3.

Apart from that, I think the writers are doing a fantastic job in terms of character development this season. Arguably I would say that Iggy probably has the best storyline so far and that’s incredible for his character. Tyler Labine is acting his ass off and Iggy’s scenes with Lauren, Vijay and Martin were top tier!!! We are finally getting a Max and Reynolds bromance that was teased in season one but literally know where to be found in season two! It’s great seeing them bond on screen and I hope we get more moments with these two. We’re also seeing Reynold’s “life plan” blow up in his face and we finally have some closure with Bloom. They kept us in limbo for so long! We didn’t know if him and Bloom were truly over but now we finally know. Also, it seems like he and Evie are officially done as well and he might have a new love interest on the horizon. For Lauren, she’s clearly seems to be having a coming out story which is something I didn’t see coming at all. I’m really curious how they’re going to play this out for her and can’t wait to see it unfold. Last but not least, for Max and Helen they are both going through massive character development phases which leads me to my second point.

I love a good Max and Helen scene as much as the next person. To me they’re the ultimate ship and I want to see them thrive and flourish but just because we don’t see Max and Helen interact doesn’t mean that the show isn’t properly developing or investing in their relationship!!!!!!!!The relationship between Max and Helen is so nuanced that their relationship doesn’t hang in the balance because they don’t have more witty, flirtatious, or emotional dialogue. Don’t get me wrong, I adore those moments. Those scenes between them make us the passionate sharwpin shippers we are. At the same time though, we have to truly take a look at why the state of their relationship is where its at now and why from a narrative perspective their current interactions make sense. In order to do this, we have to take a look at where Max and Helen left off last year.

At the end of season 2, Max made a move on Helen and almost kissed her in her office. After this moment occurred he never addressed it and at the time he was still dating Alice. There’s no doubt in my mind that this was the catalyst for why Helen started dating Cassian in the first place. She had practically laid her feelings out there and told Max he was the reason she gave up half of her department. After this revelation and the massive, intimate moment he initiated in her office, he didn’t even have the decency to address it. He swept it under the rug and wanted to keep the same relationship that he had with her like nothing ever happened. Even though Helen was aware about Alice, we now know from season 3 that Helen felt a type away that Max never “officially” told Helen that he was dating her. This is IMPORTANT!!! Max and Helen did not end on a high note in season 2. In fact, the very last scenes we see of season 2 is Helen blowing off Max to go on a date with Cassian and Max breaking off things with Alice. I know this wasn’t intentional due to the season being cut short but it definitely contributes to where they are now.

Fast forward a year later, and not only do we still have a massive almost kissed elephant in the room between Max and Helen but also the trauma of being on the frontlines of a pandemic and going through the biggest social justice movement the world has seen. This is something I’ve said many times over but I’m not sure the fandom recognizes how much these events have permanently altered these characters and changed the dynamics of this show. COVID-19 changed everything. The Black Live Matter Movement for the first time grabbed the attention of the world and changed everything too! Max and Helen are in the process of trying to heal and rebuild their lives the best they can as individuals after such a tumultuous year. At the same time, they are acutely aware of the feelings they have for each other and the UST between them and are carrying the weight of that as well. Naturally guys, the combination of all this is going to change most dynamics in a relationship. Things are awkward and distant because Max and Helen are awkward and distant!! They have a lot of shit that they’re going through as individuals and subconsciously as a “couple.” They are clearly not in a healthy place to be as vulnerable as they once were to each other. And how can they be when their feelings have literally been eating at them for over year?! It’s hard to ignore that and try to force yourself to go back to the way things were. Especially when their feelings have “technically” been out in the open since the end of season 2. They both know what it is! They were steps away from unleashing years of built up sexual tension between them and they went on with their lives like it never even happened. Max walking in on her and Cassian kissing in HER OFFICE and subsequently having that convo with Helen was not for shits and giggles. It triggered the BEAST of his feelings that he had fought so hard to suppress. There is no doubt in my mind that when he saw them in her office kissing, he was having some serious dejavu to their almost kissing affair last year. He‘s in love with her and she’s in love with him but this what happens when you continuously try and run away from those feelings and let it fester instead of trying to deal with it head on. The dynamic were seeing between them now is a result of their unresolved issues and it absolutely plays into Sharpwin’s story. It doesn’t take away from it. It makes sense for where they are NOW!

If we look at season three holistically, you’ll realize that a momentum for something significant happening for Sharpwin has been set through the acting and writing. I got to give it to Ryan Eggold. He has that fire and desire, Mr. Darcy type level acting down to a tee so far. It is so satisfying seeing Max so overcome with his feelings that you can tangibly see it in his body language and hear it in his voice. We have seen Max taken aback by Helen before but we have NEVER seen him like this. I keep on saying it but this is different guys. Something has shifted and it seems like Max is on the verge of exploding. His feeling are burning hot right underneath the surface and it’s a beautiful thing to behold. Last night’s episode was ripe with this type of content and Ryan was in his acting bag! It wasn’t an overtly “Sharpwin” episode but the writing and the acting is so clever and methodical, it will have you thinking otherwise. At the beginning of season 3 Max told Helen that he wants to build something better for Luna and something better for her. Was last night not a beautiful reflection of that? One question asking Max if he has ever loved a black woman put him in the shoes of his patient’s husband and had Max advocating for his wife like he would advocate for Helen if it was her! If that’s not fucking romantic I don’t know what it is and if the alarm bells aren’t going off that there is something deeper at play here with a huge payoff around the corner I don’t know what to tell you! Another moment that sticks out to me like a sore thumb is when Helen was telling Cassian that her brother died. I wrote about this in a previous meta of mind but Helen at her most vulnerable telling Cassian that she feels like she’s running out of time is SO SIGNIFICANT guys!!! It’s not only tell us that she fears that she’s missing out on the windows of opportunities for the wants and needs in her life but it literally sets the pacing of how quickly Sharpwin is going to progress. It is the beautiful freudian slip that tells us exactly where things are headed for these two. To me this is equivalent to Max telling Helen “I love my doctor” and “what if I want you?” in season 1. This episode had no interaction between Max and Helen but it was a MASSIVE Sharpwin indicator through and through! These are just a couple of examples but even their respective journeys in parenting is so Sharpwin driven. So in all I’m not mad in the direction the show has taken to showcase their relationship this season because Sharpwin is deeply interwoven in the storyline this year even if it’s not overtly obvious through emotional dialogue/ interactions.

Also, one thing you have to realize is this, season three is wrapping up a lot of loose ends from season 2 and when it comes to Max and Helen these two points will be/ have to be addressed in the next six episodes.

The Almost Kiss

Whether or Not They Want To Be Together

The showrunners know without a shadow of doubt that the resolution for these two points is owed! If Sharpwin is talking about their almost kiss, there is no way that they aren’t talking about what they mean to each other and what their future looks like together. Both solutions literally go hand in hand and I promise you they are not delaying the resolution for that till season 4. It’s not happening fam. We will see this play out within the next six episodes. So in hindsight, more Sharpwin interaction are on the horizon.

When I was making predictions about this season I wasn’t aware that this season would only be 14 episodes. I’m sad that season 3 is so short but that still doesn’t change my mind for where I think the story is going. Call me crazy but I’m sticking to my guns. There is something about how Ryan is portraying Max that is signaling something huge. Also I just trust the context clues that i believe the show is giving. I trust it! Anyway y’all! If you have any sharpwin question just DM here or message me on Twitter! my username is @oyindaodewale.

Love you guys! ❤️

#sharpwin #new amsterdam #max goodwin #helen sharpe #max x helen #sharpwin meta #new amsterdam meta

79 notes · View notes

el-gilliath · 4 years ago

Text

Maybe Forever

I did two remixes this year, and for @rnmremix I took on @daughterofelros and her story Maybe Someday which is about Michael plantsitting Alex’s plants. I turned it around, and this has Alex plantsitting Michael’s plants. I angsted in this, but the ending is still happy. Happy reading!

Ao3

It takes him by surprise when he gets the question, as it’s something he never thought Michael would ever be a fan of. Not because it’s wrong, immoral, strange or anything like that. He just didn’t expect it. Because, you know, it’s... Plants. Green things with foliage and sometimes flowers in all different shapes and sizes. Michael is rough, wild curly hair, motor oil, science and sass. Plants don't seem like something he would enjoy or care about. But here he is, down in Michael’s bunker where plants really shouldn’t thrive. But they are. Thriving, that is. Growing wild and beautiful in what is seemingly organized chaos around Michael’s science equipment and feats of mechanical engineering.

“This is what you want me to watch for you? Plants?” he asks incredulously as he looks around.

“Yeah? Something wrong with plants?”

He can hear the defensiveness in Michael’s tone of voice, and he flinches minutely. “That’s not what I meant, Guerin. I’m just surprised. I didn’t know you had them, especially down here.”

“There's nothing wrong with keeping plants down here you know.”

“I know that,” Alex says, his own tone becoming more defensive. “I’m surprised you have plants, I didn’t know that would interest you. That’s all.”

“I can have hobbies you know,” Michael replies, looking like he’s already regretting asking Alex to water them while he’s gone for a week.

Alex just looks at him, eyebrows lifting at the way Michael is acting, wondering if they can ever be close again without bickering. Michael seems to realize it too, as his posture relaxes with a deep sigh. He’s visibly calming himself down, and Alex can’t help but admire how easily he does it. Especially since he knows it isn’t easy at all for Michael, so used to keeping the charade that keeps him and his family safe up at all times.

“Sorry. I’m being defensive for no damn reason over here.” Michael sighs again, impossibly deeper this time. Like sighing takes deep stress away from him. Maybe it does, for all Alex knows. “My mom kept plants, and could grow them with her powers. I… I wanted to try it too.”

“You’re doing a great job,” Alex says, smiling at him. It’s tentative, but honest. Real. “And I’m sorry too, I was honestly just surprised, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about it.”

“It’s okay.” Michael smiles in return. “So. You think you could be up for it?”

“Yeah, I’ll watch over them. No promises they’ll be alive when you get back though.”

“Nah, you’re Alex Manes. You can do anything.”

The smile on Alex’s face turns wry, probably a bit unsure. It’s not true, in so many ways. But he appreciates what Michael is trying to do. The confidence he’s trying to instill in the face of a task Alex has never had before. Michael knows how uneasy he is when it comes to situations like this. But he’ll power through like he always does. Especially for Michael. And it’s plants. It can’t be that hard.

-----

He quickly finds that he’s wrong. So damned wrong. He has no idea how Michael created a thriving garden in the dark bunker but it quickly becomes apparent that Alex cannot do the same thing. He can water them and trim them if needed but three days into Michael’s week away from Roswell and they’re starting to droop. Sad, missing Michael, drooping. The worst part is he knows how they feel. And his life has officially turned even weirder now that he’s sympathizing with plants. But he can’t help but feel for them, as the flowers lose a little of their shine the longer Michael is away, how the leaves aren’t quite as green. Their person isn’t there anymore. Maybe they’ve given up on Michael coming back.

Kind of like Alex has. Oh, he knows Michael is coming back to town, he’s only in Albuquerque for a week with Isobel. But as the days grow longer the plants still turn sadder.

If he can’t do this one thing for Michael, how can he ever hope to get him back. In the way he wants, in the way it matters. Back in his arms, his life, preferably one day his, or even their, house. After Maria, after Forrest, after his dad.

Realizing he wanted Michael officially back, out, proud and completely took a long time. The knowledge of it not so hard, the need and want harder. They’ve wasted time, so much damn time. And here he is, surrounded by green and yellow and blue, things so important to Michael because his mom was supposedly good at it. And Alex is having the hardest time keeping them alive and well. It’s making him feel like his dad, trapping aliens behind glass walls and torturing them for kicks.

He just wants to do this right. Then maybe, just maybe, he can find the courage within to tell Michael his hopes. But it’s not looking too good. He’s tried everything, watering, giving them lots of light, talking to them, hanging out in the bunker in case it’ll help. But so far it’s not working and the plants just droop more by the hour. Michael coming home is still three days away, they’ll end up being dead if he can’t fix this. And he fears whatever progress they’ve made will die with them.

He’s out of options though, he doesn't know what to try next. He’s not an alien, he doesn’t have powers nor gifts with anything besides guns and computers. Neither which will be handy here. He looks around desperate to find something that can help.

He doesn’t expect to spot a guitar. The same guitar he tried gifting to Michael which failed desperately. The same guitar he regifted him later, after Maria, after Forrest. When death of loved ones and broken hearts weren’t between them. When they could actually call each other friends. Regardless if that friendship was still fraught with tension, a will they or won’t they that still weighs heavily on them. Even when they try to push past it and just be.

But the guitar means much to them. Music in general means much to them. Maybe it’ll help.

He picks it up gently, taking it out of its case with great care before running his hand over it and smiles. The strings have just been changed, Michael has been taking good care of it. Something eases inside of him when he sees that, though he doesn’t quite understand why. The guitar isn’t a symbol of their relationship, Michael making sure the guitar is in tip top shape doesn’t really mean anything. It just means he likes playing. It still brings a tingle to the pit of his stomach which he crushes swiftly and surely. There’s no point in useless hope.

He brings it over to the chair by Michael’s drawing board and sits down, settling it gently on his legs and making sure no pressure is on his prosthesis as he sits with the guitar. He takes a few deep breaths before he strums. Of course the guitar is finely tuned.

He still checks everything before softly starting to play. He’s played Wonderwall a thousand times, he’s sick as hell of it but he still plays it first every time he picks up a guitar. Old habits are hard to break. He plays bits of the melody to warm up, humming alongside it as he does. Five minutes in, he’s relaxed, he’s more settled, he feels good.

He drifts from Wonderwall, eyes closing as he moves over to various songs from Breaking Benjamin, stripped down versions of My Chemical Romance, seamlessly switching to Blink 182, Placebo, Snow Patrol and The Strokes. He loses himself in A Perfect Circle, in Third Eye Blind and The Cranberries, resurfacing after he’s hit Linkin Park, Gavin Degraw, Panic! At the Disco and the odd Spice Girls song just to switch it up.

He lets the last note fall as he breathes out, smiling at the peace he feels just from the instrument in his hands, his voice slightly raspy from singing and the contentment of being wanted and free in Michael’s space. He smiles to himself, taking another deep breath as he opens his eyes again, looking at his watch to find that almost three hours has passed since he started playing. He’s not surprised though, music has always been the place he felt the most free, the most able to be himself.

He takes another deep breath, briefly closing his eyes again as he centers himself before he looks up at the plants. They look the same, but no worse either, so he figures he’s done all he can for the day. He decides to go home for the night, he’ll come back tomorrow and continue trying his best to keep them alive. He doesn’t want to fail now.

———

The shock comes when he gets down the ladder the next evening after a gruelling day at the base. He comes down expecting the plants to be their usual droopy selves but instead he finds them perked up, their foliage nice and green, the flowers shining and pretty. He almost calls out Michael’s name to check if he’s there, but he knows he’s not, having talked to him just an hour earlier. He’s still in Albuquerque, still there for a couple days with Isobel and the newly arrived Max. Just three aliens in the big city, he’d joked, Max hissing at him to keep his voice down in the background while Isobel laughed. They deserve the time away to just be siblings, after everything. But the thrill of Michael calling him still sits in his brain, making him smile.

But there’s still the mystery of the plants. Happier plants. Plants who don’t look like they’re on the brink of giving up. And the only thing he did differently was playing guitar and singing. Maybe that’s how Michael keeps them happy. He decides not to mistrust his instincts the way he usually does and after checking the soil and making sure everything else is okay he gets out the guitar again. He still starts with Wonderwall, still hates it, still can’t break the habit. But he moves along faster than yesterday, switching to other songs of Oasis, moving along to Death Cab for Cutie, The White Stripes, Stereophonics and HIM, before jumping over to Shinedown, Muse, Journey and Creed. He plays for hours like yesterday, loves every minute of it, and feels more relaxed when he opens his eyes again at the end and sees the plants visibly better in front of his eyes.

He laughs to himself, a laugh filled with more desperation and relief than he wants to admit. But it’s okay. Maybe he can do this.

———

He spends hours down in the bunker the next two days, playing everything and anything he has in his repertoire, rediscovering the love he has for the music he grew up with and feeling the thrill of just his hands, his voice and the guitar, surrounded by Michael’s space, Michael’s plants, Michael’s mechanics. He’s surrounded in every way by Michael Guerin, and his own wants, hopes and dreams for the man and what he longs for them to become. He’s spent years away from Roswell and Michael before but now, after one week of him gone, after one week of his voice in his ears as they talk and laugh on the phone until Isobel or Max drags him away, he misses him. Misses everything that they were, everything that they are, everything that they’re heading for. And Alex knows where they’re headed, now. Knows where he wants them to head.

He’s there when he hears Michael’s truck, still playing guitar, strumming along on notes shaping up to be another song, the melody forming underneath his fingers as words form in his head. He doesn’t stop playing, but instead listens as the truck stops and Michael gets out, as his heavy steps move towards the bunker and down the ladder. He opens his eyes as Michael stops, watches him with a smile forming as Michael stares at him and the plants in awe.

“Damn Alex, I’d have stayed home if I knew listening to you play was on the menu.”

Alex snorts, stopping his strumming and placing the guitar back in the case before he gets up on his feet. “It was the only thing I could think of to keep them alive. We had a few dicey days before I started playing, and apparently they liked it.”

“You’re a good player, Alex, no wonder they liked it.”

Alex smiles, taking a step closer to Michael. “Maybe. I’m just glad I got to be here, it’s been fun.”

Michael tilts his head in that inquisitive way of his, but Alex just shakes his head. His revelations and discoveries are too heavy for this moment, he’ll get to them eventually. Michael nods, understanding without needing words that this is something to be left for now. They’re good at that, easy, silent communication. Too bad they kind of suck at the harder communication, but that’s all fixable.

“Hey. Thanks for doing this.”

“Any time, Michael.” Alex looks down for a second. “I’m happy you trusted me with this.”

“I had no doubts you could do it. The doubts were all yours.”

Alex can’t deny that’s true. But here, in the bunker, surrounded by plants and Michael smiling at him in his carefree and relaxed way, Alex feels another doubt snap. And before he lets himself second guess it, he steps forward and cradles Michael’s face in his hands. He sees the look of shock, but also the hope that blooms in Michael’s eyes and pulls him softly towards him in case Michael pulls back. But he doesn’t have to worry, Michael pushes forward as easily as Alex pulls and their lips meet softly. It’s a sweet kiss, a familiar one, but no less exciting with no small amount of fireworks firing in the pit of Alex’s belly as Michael puts his arms around his waist and pulls him closer still. It’s everything Alex wanted, everything he needs, the appreciation and love for Michael flaring as their first kiss in a long time keeps on going.

It turns from sweet to needy, to wanting, to unbelievably hot quickly, but that’s always the way it is with them. They can’t help but want each other in all ways. They both break apart at the same time, moving away from the kiss but not from each other, leaning their foreheads together as they smile and laugh at each other, their happiness bubbling between them. It’s never a question if both of them want it, they already know that. Maybe this time they can have it too.

“So,” Michael says after a while. “My plants decided to try and die on you and you got them back by singing and playing to them? How’s you figure that out?”

“Well.” Alex sneaks another kiss just because he can, a thrill going through him as Michael hums in a happy tone. “I figured you sang to them. You know, since your guitar was down here.”

Michael pulls back and gives him a puzzled look. “Alex, I live in an old airstream in the middle of a junkyard. I keep it down here so it won’t be stolen.”

“Oh,” Alex says. “I didn’t even think of that.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” Michael kisses him again. “I’m glad you can afford not to.”

“Guerin-”

“No, Alex. Your life has been shitty enough, be happy you don’t have to worry about that too.”

“How about...” Alex pauses, gathering his courage. “How about you keep it at my place? It’ll be safe there too.”

“Oh yeah?” The smile Michael gives him is blinding, beautiful. Happy. “You wouldn’t mind having me in your space?”

Alex smiles in return. He leans in, kissing Michael dirty and hot, the way both of them want it. ”I definitely wouldn’t. I’ll even take the plants, if you want to.”

He smiles wider as Michael laughs, head thrown back with unruly curls bouncing as he does. They need to talk, figure them out and take it day by day. But he’s so gorgeous, and Alex wants to keep him forever. Him and the green things who are perking up even more in Michael’s presence. And here he thought they were bonding.

“The guitar first. The plants we can talk about down the line,” Michael replies when he finally stops laughing. He tilts his head forward, looking at Alex through long lashes. Alex feels the same want bubbling in his stomach as always. He wants Michael in his bed, in his kitchen, in his living room. He wants him close, he wants them to be good. Together. They have a long way to go still, but it feels like a beginning. It feels like hope.

“I’d like that.”

#roswell new mexico #malex #malex fic #rnmremix2021 #my fic #that feeling when you forget the name of your fic #and give it the incorrect title

50 notes · View notes

harringrovetrashrat · 3 years ago

Text

Tagged by @disdaidal !!! Thank you! Omg I’m like 🥺💖🥺💖

So, I figure since I have so many things I’m working on, and no idea when I’ll actually finish them (outside of my Big Bang Project), I should share the bits of them that I do actually have dhfoiahfiosh

What we have are these:

A fic where Billy meets some older queer people while kicked out, and learns from them how to love himself

“So I’m guessing you’ve never met a queen before,” they said. Billy shook his head.

“I’ve never met any royalty.” Juicy laughed and it made Billy feel like he’d said the wrong thing until she looked at him again, practically beaming.

“Well honey, there’s queens abound in here. Drag Queens, specifically.” Billy’s mouth formed a small ‘o’.

“So, you’re a… man?” Juicy shook her head.

“Personally, I find man and woman too limiting. All gender is a costume, darling. I just think dresses are prettier than suits.”

“You haven’t been in the right suits,” Cindy said with a smirk. Juicy gave her the finger without looking.

“It’s called taste, sweetie.” Cindy just laughed. Billy stared at Juicy, feeling awed by them. They were so tall, toned and beautiful. Their skin was dark and glistened with the glitter they’d spread over it. “I’m sure you have taste, don’t you munchkin?” Billy couldn’t help it and he pouted.

“I’m not short, I’m average for my age,” he snapped. Juicy just smiled.

“I like you,” they said, pointing a long nailed finger at him.

A Cheesy Summer Camp Horror fic, with romance and comedy because Like. Y’all know me.

“Let’s stop talking about her,” Heather cut in. “Let’s talk about this weekend.”

“This weekend?” Billy asked, perking up. “What about it?”

“Well, I was thinking we could celebrate the end of the first week with a skinny dip,” she said, eyes sparkling. Billy didn’t miss the flush that crossed over Robin’s face, though he wasn’t entirely sure who it was directed at. He definitely had a guess.

“I’m game!” Tommy piped up, grin wide, anger disappearing from his face. Billy rolled his eyes and snorted, but raised his hand, tongue running over his top teeth.

“Why not,” he said, giving his eyebrows a quirk. “I ain’t no pussy.”

“Of course,” Adam muttered, rolling his eyes. Billy’s eyes snapped over and narrowed. “Isn’t it a little, I dunno, juvenile?”

“Oh come on,” Steve chimed in, munching on the cookie now, relaxing with the change of topic. “Maybe so, but it’s summer, it’s camp, why not, right? Start it off with a bang?” His smile was teasing, bright, and Billy found it hard to look away, hard to deny that smile what it wanted.

The Reverse AU where Steve moves to Hawkins with his father and step family, Claudia and Dustin, and Billy was adopted into the Mayfields

“I’m not--! It’s just midterms! That’s what has me all out of sorts.” He opened his notebook and tried to will his blush away. There was a soft thud and Nancy joined them.

“What has you out of sorts?” She asked.

“Mid--”

“Billy so has a crush on that new guy from New York,” Heather said. Billy made a noise of protest when Nancy smiled, leaning over.

“Oh he’s so cute! Truly impeccable taste you have,” she teased. Billy rested his head on the table.

“I hate both of you so fucking much,” he hissed.

“No you don’t,” they chorused.

“I do, I really do,” Billy replied.

Mermaid AU where Steve and Billy were young friends before being separated. Steve tries to reunite them obviously

“I can show you a bunch of cool stuff,” Billy said, feeling oddly proud of himself. And well, the ocean was his home. And he never got the chance to really show it off to someone who didn’t already know it. “If I show you the ocean, will you tell me more about humans?” Steve nodded. “Like, why are all the ships girls?”

“Huh,” Steve said, tapping his chin with his finger. “I don’t actually know… Usually I think ‘cause a guy names them. I’ll ask my tutor. He knows everything.” Steve wasn’t a huge fan of Professor Owens, but he was nice enough. He let Steve find things to bring in and ask questions about, he didn’t get mad like Steve’s other tutors had when he had trouble reading. So even though Owens still pushed for Steve to focus more on his future, he was better than the other adults in Steve’s life.

“Tutor?” Billy asked. “What’s that?”

“Like a teacher,” Steve replied. “But like… Different.” In fact, Steve wasn’t totally sure what the difference was. Billy just squinted, looking confused.

“Different… how?”

“Uh, tutors are… are taller,” Steve replied matter of factly. Professor Owens was taller than Ms. Joyce had been, so there wasn’t anything to argue against that. Billy nodded seriously, making a note.

There was a ringing bell and a distant voice calling Steve’s name, making him sigh dramatically. It was already time? Billy’s ears twitched a little and he looked at Steve.

“What’s that?”

“That’s my nanny,” Steve said, mopey and pouting.

More of You’ll Find Me Looking Over the Edge of the World

“Oh, King Steve thinking about skipping?” Billy tugged him down, making Steve stumble as a fist started rubbing against his scalp and messing up his hair.

“Fuck, dude!” Steve cried, nearly dropping his tray. Billy just cackled, letting him go and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“No,” Nancy said through grit teeth. “He’s thinking about staying and taking--”

“He can’t go around looking like that,” Billy said with faux concern, eyes all worried as he leaned on the table with one hand and used the other to point at Steve’s, now fully messed up, hair. “I think Steve’ll have to take the afternoon, don’t you?” Billy turned to look over his shoulder, not seeing the way Nancy rubbed at her temples as Jonathan very obviously tried not to snicker. Steve almost felt bad. Billy knocked on the table with his knuckles, pushing up with a grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll get him home safely.”

“Get me home--” Steve began, but before he could finish his sentence, Billy was shoving him around and out of the cafeteria. Nancy sighed, shaking her head, giving Steve a look he knew would turn into a talk later. “Sorry guys!” Steve tossed over his shoulder.

Billy with a rat he named Max to piss off Max (he calls her human Max and she hates it)

“And what the fuck are you doing here?!” He asked her. Max, the little trouble maker, just squeaked at him, wriggling in his grip. “No fucking wonder I didn’t see you in Barbie’s house this morning, you decided to be a fucking Houndini, didn’t you.” She squeaked again, tail swirling and dragging along his wrist. He heard footsteps behind him and moved to shove her back into his jacket sleeve when Steve approached.

“You okay-- Oh!” Steve blinked, brows raised as he saw Max reach with her small, cute little pink hands to grab for Billy’s hard nipple again. “So…”

“Cut that out!” Billy hissed, moving her down to cradle her against his stomach. She settled in, but she was definitely hungry and would get restless again quickly. “I didn’t see her this morning but just assumed she was hiding in her little pile.”

“Me too,” Steve said, checking around the hallway for anyone who was late. Luckily, there was no one around to see them trying to hide a rat in Billy’s jacket. “How’d she even get out?”

“I mean, we are keeping her in a Barbie dream house instead of a cage--”

“Really? You’re gonna sass me now? After you insisted that she ‘live like the princess she is’--”

Stranger Than Fiction AU

“Billy, I swear to fucking god if you don’t get out there right now--” Billy stumbled out from the back, head turned to glare at Max, who was pushing him from behind. She pushed until he was at the counter, face to face with Steve. He glared, though his face was flush. Max crossed her arms. “Like we fuckin’ practiced.” Billy shot her another angry glance, but then looked back to Steve. Who was so confused.

“Max may have, uhm, brought it to my attention that I may have overreacted just the tiniest little bit.”

“That’s not at all right,” Max said under her breath. Billy swatted behind him without looking, missing her completely.

“Anyway,” he pressed on, “I just,” he sighed, pushing an errant curl behind his ear. Steve watched the movement before snapping his eyes back to Billy’s. “I don’t often take the chance to be nice, so I got maybe a little offended.” Max scoffed. “Okay a lot offended,” he said with an eye roll. Steve couldn’t help it; he snorted. Billy’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes lit up, like a kid who just learned Santa was real. Steve blushed, looking away, but he couldn’t hide the smile on his face.

“It’s okay,” he replied, turning back to look at Billy. The sun lit up the stray blonde hairs poking out of his messy bun, making a light halo around him. Steve had to catch his breath.

It was like looking at an angel, vengeful and dangerous, but exciting all at once. His eyes seemed to shine, bright and gleeful, but also full of mischief.

“It’s okay,” Steve repeated, feeling his face heat up more. “I would have taken them if I could. They were amazing.” He smiled, nodding towards the stairs. “I should get to it though. Last day and all.” Something sad briefly flickered over Billy’s face, but it was gone as soon as it was there, and Steve thought he must have imagined it.

“Yeah, good luck,” Billy said. Max was smiling, smug, and she punched Billy’s shoulder.

Leverage AU

“Well,” he said slowly, letting the trio shake off their shadows. “The lab closed.” This isn’t about the kid was the underlying message. “But, what’s happening now is that Mayor Kline accepted a lot of weird bribes. They’re from a company called Starcourt Industries. Now, that’s the name of the mall that opened, Starcourt, but what’s weird--”

“--Is that they didn’t exist for very long before suddenly popping up in Indiana,” Alec cut in. “It reads like one of our companies. General background, seems legit, but I did a lot of poking around most of this stuff leads to loose ends. It took a while to get there, so at first glance…” The group nodded. At first glance everything checked out, and even a little digging would provide a general cover that most people wouldn’t think to look past.

Of course, none of them were most people.

“So who are they?” Eliot asked.

“All of the loose ends lead back to Russia,” Alec said. “But nothing concrete or connected, just more companies that do really general stuff. It goes real deep.” The implications there were discomforting. Alec was a genius, and excelled in his line of work, but this kind of grand scale cover up meant one thing: this was bigger than just a few bad apples in a company. This was a plan.

“So who’s the client?” Sophie asked. Nate pulled up a picture of a grumpy looking man, mustache groomed and eyes hard, but kind.

“Chief Jim Hopper.” That got Parker’s attention, bringing her out of the funk she’d been in since the mention of San Diego and Billy.

“Like, Police Chief?”

“Yep,” Nate said, popping the P. “He’s the one who found the kid, found out there was something going on at the lab. Now, he’s positive something weird is going on. Knows he’s done everything he can to legally take the Mayor down, but the man has a lot of friends in high places, and Jim can’t do anything. And that’s,” he smiled, “Where we come in.”

That’s still merely some of what I have going on, but that’s what I’ll share rn. Anyway, tag me in ur WIPs! I’d love to read them :) tag ur it

#harringrove #tommy h #stranger things #angst #fluff #aus #tag game

22 notes · View notes

kinktae · 5 years ago

Text

bitchin’ || pt. 2 (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 4.4k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: multiple smut scenes, science talk, banter, jealousy, alcohol & LOTS of colorful 80s slang lmao

A/N: Bitchin’ is a multichapter fic, surprise!! This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness and helping me with Yara’s character overall. Hope you appreciate the easter egg based on her!

OFFICIAL PLAYLIST

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

PART TWO

"Yara!"

The eyes belonging to the girl in question, flashed your way, widening in alarm.

"Oh, yikes." Was her automatic response, her bag of cool ranch Doritos falling onto her lap.

You were angry, that much was evident to her. Yara was sat in your shared dorm's living room, a thick blanket engulfing her small frame. You briefly glanced towards the TV, it was tuned into MTV, the familiar music video of Every Breath You Take by The Police playing, before directing your glare back onto the copper-haired girl.

"Before you say anything," Yara began, swallowing down whatever remaining food was in her mouth, "you should know they were having a rerun of the VMAs – which I missed last night – at the same time as the lab."

"You left me alone! You said you would go to the lab yesterday!" You griped, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Yes, yes that is true but I would also like to point out the fact that Madonna performed, so it wasn't like I even had a choice when you really think about it." She countered, tone pitching comically.

"You absolutely had a choice!" You laughed, shaking your head.

"Mm... I could argue that it is a subjective opinion."

You walked over to your best friend, sighing as you slumped down beside her, placing your backpack onto the floor.

You offered Yara a sideways glance.

"Did Duran Duran at least win something?" You asked begrudgingly.

"Nothing. They were robbed!" She squinted, shaking a fist in the air angrily.

A small chuckle escaped you despite yourself.

"You really should have gone to the lab, you know." You reasoned, reaching into the bag of chips.

"And smell like frog insides for the rest of the day? Grody to the max." She responded, before flashing you a look. "No offense."

"None taken." You grumbled, her observation fully noted though.

"Besides the makeup lab is next week. What could I have possibly missed this class?" Yara dismissed you absentmindedly, turning back towards the television as she reached for another chip.

"Well." You chuckled nervously. "For one, I have a boyfriend now."

At your words, Yara froze, a chip still in her hand as she paused mid-bite.

"You what?!" She all but shrieked, causing you to jump.

"Who? How? When? Tell me everything!" Her hands found your shoulders, shaking you slightly. You shoved her off with a laugh.

"Uh, well, his name is Jungkook–"

"The Jeon Jungkook?! From our lab?" Yara interrupted, eyes wide and shining with interest.

"Um... yes?" You responded cautiously.

Yara let out a scoff, leaning back further into the couch.

"Unbelievable. I leave you alone for one day and you get a boyfriend! And a fine one at that. This is so bogus."

"Mine and Jungkook's whole relationship is bogus, Yara." You rolled your eyes.

At your words, your best friend raised an eyebrow and you took that as an invitation to continue speaking.

"I'm only pretending to date him to make his ex-girlfriend jealous."

A sharp laugh from Yara caused you to pause, watching the way her amusement was short-lived, her smile fell as she took in your serious expression.

"Oh, you're serious." She deadpanned.

You nodded, "When you didn't show up Jungkook ended up being my partner and... well, I'm still not sure how it happened but he basically offered to fund my STEM event in exchange for helping him making his girlfriend jealous."

"They are the weirdest couple." You breathed out, shoving another chip in your mouth.

"Wait... he's gonna fund your event?! Y/N, you've been planning that thing since we got to university!"

A smile found your face, your excitement once again seeing you.

"I know! I wouldn't usually get involved in someone's love life like this but was too good of an opportunity to turn down."

"Man, I'm so happy for you! Still kind of disappointed but happy nonetheless." Yara smiled, causing you to frown.

"Disappointed? Why are you disappointed?" You pressed.

Yara clicked her tongue at you, looking at you as if the reason should be obvious.

"What do you mean why am I disappointed? Here I was ecstatic to hear that my best friend has gotten a boyfriend only to find that it's got a contract behind it!"

You giggled, nudging your knee into hers. "Think of this as a smart business venture I'm embarking on."

Yara stared at you for a moment, something clearly weighing on her mind as her lips fell into a subtle pout.

"What?" You mused.

She fluttered her eyelashes, "Does this mean you aren't going to fuck him?"

Your eyes widened in disbelief.

"Yara!" You gaped.

"Because, if you want to get technical, you kind of have to so I can live vicariously through you. It's girl code." She continued, reaching over and popping another chip into her mouth.

You frowned. "That is gross and also not a thing."

"I'm serious, I'm not accepting anything less than, like, third base." Yara pressed with a wag of a finger.

"Why don't you worry about your own sexual escapades instead of worrying about mine." You paused before continuing. "Which won't be happening, for your information."

The snacking girl let out a deep groan, throwing her blanket off of her as she stood up, taking the bag of chips with her much to your dismay.

"Well, it's not my fault I'm not getting any, okay! So do us both a favor and freak his shit." She called out, walking over to the kitchen.

"Can you stop emphasizing your lack of dick for one second?" You chuckled. "If you're that desperate for dick go back to Eunwoo."

Eunwoo was a boy Yara messed around with last semester. The relationship was short-lived, Yara quick to cut things off as soon as she realized Eunwoo was looking for something more than just a brief fling. Because ironically, despite how Yara crowed about being lonely, there was nothing that sent that girl running faster than actual feelings.

"Sweetie, I'm desperate for good dick." Yara scoffed, having had emerged back into the room, her auburn hair now let down, her trusty scrunchy back around her wrist.

"Was Eunwoo really that bad in bed?" You wondered, eyeing your best friend curiously as she moved to turn off the TV that had gone neglected the moment you stepped into the room.

Yara shrugged. "No, he was fine."

"So...?"

An enthusiastic pound against the poor television box rang out, the soft side of Yara's fist having had slammed down dramatically.

"I don't want just fine, Y/N! I want dick so totally tubular that I feel it in my guts." She declared.

A sputtering cough fell from your lips as you choked on your inhale of air.

Yara looked at you with mild concern, suppressing her laughter as she walked over and began to pat your back.

"I seriously question how you wiggled your way into being my best friend." You breathed through your coughs,.

"Eat my shorts, Y/N. You love me and you know it." She dismissed easily.

You merely grinned, unable to dispute your best friend's claim.

"Now go shower." Yara ordered, using one hand to point in the direction of the bathroom, and the other to pinch her nose shut dramatically.

Sighing, you heaved yourself off the couch. You doubted you smelled as bad as Yara made you out to, but you couldn't deny that a shower sounded terrific right now.

"Yes, sir." You sent her a salute cheekily before turning to head to the bathroom, shaking your head as she called out after you.

"And when you come out I need to know every single word you and Jungkook exchanged. If you're dating him then so am I, bitch!"

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The weekend had breezed by quickly, homework and the newest Cyndi Lauper album occupying all your free time. You hardly had time to contemplate your new role as Jeon Jungkook's new girlfriend.

You and Yara had been in the midst of a conversation about what exactly she should get her little sister for her 13th birthday when you first spoke to Jungkook again.

"Cabbage patch kid?" Yara offered, causing your nose to scrunch up.

"How old do you think your sister is?"

"Hey, don't sass me. For your information, Lyanna still has all her Care Bear tapes. She threw a hissy fit when my mom tried to give them away last Christmas." Yara recalled.

"Still, she's becoming a teenager. I vote no on the cabbage patch kid."

"I'm with you, babe." Jungkook spoke up suddenly, lips pressed together as if in contemplative thought.

You hadn't even noticed him enter the classroom, much less approach and listen in onto your conversation.

"Jungkook!" You breathed out in surprise, stomach fluttering slightly as you realized what he had just called you.

"Why don't you get her a pair of roller skates?" He ignored you, placing a hand on the table and leaning onto it. You tried your hardest to ignore the way the muscles in his arm flexed with the movement.

You cleared your throat, "Roller skates?"

"Yeah. Every kid has to get a pair of roller skates. It's like a rite of passage."

"I never got roller skates…" You muttered.

"And you were robbed of a childhood." Jungkook informed you solemnly, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Sup." He said suddenly, eyes flickering to Yara as he offered her a casual nod.

You watched in amusement as a pink hue made its way onto your best friend's face, nodding back at him.

Seeing as Yara had remained silent this entire time, you realized it was probably best you introduce the two.

"Uh, Jungkook this is Yara, my best friend. Yara this is Jungkook, my... "

Business partner?

Temporary acquaintance?

"Her boyfriend." Jungkook finished for you cheekily, sending you a wink.

"Fake boyfriend." You reminded, causing Jungkook's eyes to widen.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He stated bluntly, eyes gesturing to Yara forcibly.

Oh. He thought you wouldn't tell your best friend about him? Hah.

"She already knows we're not actually dating–"

An angry shush came from the messy-haired boy, preventing you from talking further.

He hunched closer, eyes flickering across the classroom, "Keep it down, would ya? There are eyes everywhere."

"Sorry, jeez." You apologized dryly, raising a brow as you mimicked his motions.

"Bold of you to assume I won't be guiding Y/N throughout this entire arrangement." Yara spoke finally, her nose turned up slightly.

"Is that so?" Jungkook looked at her in surprise.

"Yep. In fact, I've self-appointed myself manager of your entire relationship." She replied smoothly.

Jungkook grinned, clearly finding humor in her words, "Well, then. With that kind of assertiveness, I'm sure we're in good hands. Nice to meet you, Yara."

"Likewise."

You frowned as your best friend and Jungkook shook hands.

"Anyway, as your manager, my first bit of advice for really selling this whole fake relationship thing is for the two of you to sit together. So if you'll just excuse me..."

At the sight of Yara reaching for her notebook and pen, alarm ran through you.

"Wha– Excuse me, what are you doing?" You protested immediately.

Jungkook, on the other hand, simply grinned. "Great advice!"

"Why thank you, I accept payment in cash and Annie Lennox cassette tapes."

"Yara, where are you even going?" You whined, watching as your best friend chucked her things into her bag.

"To sit at another table. Who am I to keep people in love apart? Jungkook you can take my seat."

Your shoulders slumped miserably as you watched as the smirking boy replaced Yara's spot on the stool beside you.

"Have fun, kids." She teased, waving the two of you off with a hand as she walked over to another table.

"I like her." Jungkook smiled cheesily.

"She's not kidding, you know." You warned. "If she says she's our manager then you better believe it. Whether you like it or not, she's gonna accomplish what she's set out to do."

"Reminds me of you." He replied with a hum.

You blinked in surprise.

"Was that... a compliment?"

"Was it?" His eyes went wide, voice pitched in feigned surprise.

A small laugh escaped you and before you could retort with your own sarcastic comment, your professor began to speak.

"Good afternoon, everyone. I hope you all had a good weekend." Mr. Kim greeted, his usual coffee mug in hand. He looked somewhat worse for wear, you noted. "I did. And as I sat here and reflected the choices I made Sunday night, I came to the conclusion that I will be sparing you the boring lecture this class and putting on a movie.

Widespread chatter of relief fell over the class, everyone elated to hear that this specific class would require minimal effort.

Mr. Kim had just sunk into the chair by his desk when a hand of a student shot up.

"Yes?" He answered.

The owner of the hand spoke up, "Should we take notes?"

Mr. Kim stared at the student with subtle bewilderment.

"I mean if you want? Guys, I'm gonna be honest with you all, I'm hungover as all hell. As long as you watch quietly and keep the lights off, I don't care what you do."

And with that, all the students turned back to chat amongst themselves.

It was funny, Jungkook thought, how easy you were to read when you thought no one was looking. He had been watching you through the corner of his eye, watching the way you hung onto the professor's every word and how disappointment washed over you when you realized there was no learning to be done today.

"Cute." He muttered to himself.

"What was that?" You replied absentmindedly, reaching for a sheet of paper.

Jungkook straightened in his seat, unaware he had said that out loud.

"Nothing."

You paid his reply no mind, however, pencil in hand as you began to write something onto a sheet of loose-leaf paper. Jungkook's head tilted in mild curiosity as he watched, wondering what it was you were doing.

To his surprise, the very paper of interest was then thrust his way, a soft sound ringing out as it rubbed against the cold surface of the lab table.

"What am I looking at?" Jungkook deadpanned. You shifted in your seat before responding.

"I think it's about time we talked seriously about this... relationship of ours. We need to establish rules."

Jungkook glanced back down at the paper.

"I see."

Suddenly, Jungkook's hand reached out for the zipper of his bag. You watched in silence as he pulled out the first writing utensil he could find – a blue marker – and jotted something down quickly.

You frowned, scooting your stool cautiously closer to him to get a proper look at the paper he had just written on.

"What is this?" You frowned.

"I believe it referred to legally as an amendment." He informed, eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Jungkook, I'm not going to kiss you."

Despite your seriousness, a smile nearly escape your lips at the sight of Jungkook's mouth falling into a pout.

"Why not?" He asked.

You raised a brow, "Um, we're not actually dating? Did you forget that?"

Jungkook let out a small noise of what you could only assume was indignation.

"Not to sound like a total douchebag but the fact that you don't want to kiss me is, like, totally insulting."

"I agreed to be your girlfriend, not some disposable pair of lips you're allowed to use whenever you need your ego stroked. Do I need to remind you that I hardly even know you?" You hissed lowly in case someone was listening in on your conversation.

For a moment it was just you and Jungkook glaring at each other. Neither of you was going to budge, he realized. He let out a sigh.

"Look, I see your point and what this is looking like but I promise you I'm not being creepy here. No one is gonna believe we're together if we don't kiss each other. To anyone that looks, you could just be my friend if we don't show some kind of affection towards each other."

Your arms crossed over your chest, your hard expression not letting up.

"One kiss. That's all I'm asking for. Just a peck, if that's all your comfortable with." He continued, causing you to hum.

He was certainly going to a lot of trouble just for one peck.

Maybe he did have a point. One kiss wouldn't kill you, would it?

"When?" Was your response, taking him by surprise.

"Uh... whenever? Preferably somewhere people will see. Maybe at the Halloween party this weekend?"

You frowned, a thought crossing your mind.

"You want me to kiss you at a party? In front of a bunch of people?"

"Well... not if you really don't want to..." Jungkook replied, suddenly feeling bad that you might really not be all that comfortable with this whole thing.

You shook your head, "No, it's not that."

Kissing Jungkook wasn't as daunting as the idea of doing it in front of a lot of people. It wasn't that you were socially awkward, per se, but the possibility of stage fright was undoubtedly a real one.

You let your thoughts run for a while before you finally came upon a slightly annoying solution. An audible sigh left you as you grabbed your pencil and reached for the paper.

"I don't want to embarrass myself." You told Jungkook bluntly as he read the contract's newest addition, your eyes fixated on the sheet as you couldn't find the courage to meet his eyes.

"So I want our first kiss to be somewhere private where I can make sure I know what I'm doing. Familiarize with... how you kiss... and stuff..." You trailed off, the warmth in your face suddenly too distracting to let you think intelligent thoughts.

Jungkook's eyes were as wide as saucers, glued to the side of your face as if trying to decipher whether or not you were being serious. He assumed you must be as the tone in your voice wasn't mocking in the slightest.

"Oh. Yeah, sure." He nodded quickly, still noticing the way you couldn't look him in the face.

A shit-eating grin found his face, "Y/N, are you embarrassed right now?"

"No." You stressed quickly, looking over at him defensively. Your eyes fell onto his lips against your better judgment and once again you turned away from his stare, heat rocketing through you. "I just don't want you thinking anything weird like this is me wanting to kiss you."

The dark-haired boy pressed his lips together.

"Trust me, you've made your opposition against kissing me abundantly clear." He told you pointedly before reaching for the contract. You watched him gratefully, thankful for the shift in interest.

"I'm serious about there being eyes everywhere. If Kiri finds out the truth, it's game over. I'd look like a total wastoid. Not to mention I'll never hear the end of it from my brothers." Jungkook told you, pushing the paper over for you to read. Tapping the end of your pencil against the table, you pondered something before scribbling else onto the rules.

"Fair." Jungkook expressed. "As long as you can guarantee she won't tell anyone."

"Yara is lonelier than Henry David Thoreau, you have nothing to worry about." You shrugged easily.

"I... have no idea who that is."

"He's a transcendentalist writer who spent two years in isolation–"

"Oh, so you're not just a science freak. You're a well-rounded nerd." Jungkook teased, causing you to scowl.

You grabbed your pencil. You could feel Jungkook lean to peer over your shoulder, laughing lightly as he took in what you wrote. No sooner had you finished, the paper was yanked from underneath your palm, your pretend lover quick to scribble back a response.

And that was how the two of you spent the next twenty minutes, discussing rules and filling the rest of the page, muffled exchanges of giggles catching the attention of students near you as they began to wonder could possibly be on that sheet of paper that had the two of you blushing and whispering like that.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"Can I put my hand in your pocket?"

The request came seemingly out of nowhere. The class had just finished and Yara had passed by your table briefly only to insist that Jungkook walked you to your dorm, promptly informing you that she and you would not be walking back together as usual, before she left the room altogether.

You sent Jungkook a pointed look as the two of you exited the classroom and walked out into the hallway.

"What like in Sixteen Candles?" You presumed, throwing your bag over your shoulder. "Nice try scumbag, I'm not letting you cop a feel of my ass."

"Why do you assume everything I say has some sort of hidden motive behind it?" Jungkook scoffed. "I was trying to be romantic."

"Oh, really?" You asked, sounding skeptical.

"I mean, sure, getting to touch your ass would've been a nice perk..."

A pleasant laugh escaped you and Jungkook felt something in his chest tightened, and before he could think to warn you, his hand found yours.

You glanced down at the gesture, a shy expression finding you suddenly as you look back up Jungkook, eyes wide and face warm as he offered you a small smile.

"It's no hand in your back pocket but... this should still get the message across to everyone." Jungkook's fingers laced between yours and you tried your hardest to appear nonchalant as if your heart wasn't in your throat right now.

You simply nodded, continuing to walk alongside him as the two of you began your journey towards your dorm building.

It wasn't entirely awful, you found.

Jungkook's hand felt nice in yours. It was warm and soft– your ex wasn't one for PDA so you had always wondered what it might be like to walk around with someone you liked like this.

Shame your first time had to be with your fake boyfriend.

You hadn't realized how social Jungkook was until just now, however. It hadn't been more than a seven-minute walk but more than a handful of people had called out to Jungkook, offering him a greeting and a wave as they went about their days.

You had brought up his apparent popularity to Jungkook but he merely laughed the statement off, saying that it just came with the territory of being in a fraternity.

"Yara's gonna be so proud when she finds out we thought to hold hands all on our own." You brought up on the elevator ride up to your dorm.

The romantic embrace had been severed the moment the metal doors had closed on you two, no longer having an audience to perform for.

"She's quite the character that Yara girl." He noted.

You shrugged, "She's not too bad once you get used to her."

Jungkook shook his head as if you had miss understood him.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing. You're a lot like her, you know."

"Am I?" You raised an eyebrow.

Jungkook nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Headstrong... passionate... won't take no for an answer... seems like the only person you two would listen to is each other."

You were surprised. Once again, it was a seemingly genuine compliment that had come out of nowhere and you weren't entirely sure how to respond. You clasped your hands behind your back, a grin washing onto you.

"Pretty sure you've got bigger balls than I do." He finished his thought, causing you to snort.

"Sorry if we challenge your manhood." You joked, nudging your shoulder into his just as the elevator door open. You slipped out onto the floor, Jungkook following behind you.

"Oh don't worry about that, babe. You two can test my manhood whenever you want." He told you greasily, a suggestive smirk on his face.

"If I weren't contractually obligated to be nice to you, I would smack you."

You reached the door of your dorm a few moments later, turning to Jungkook awkwardly.

"Well, thanks for walking me." You said.

Jungkook tucked his hand into the pocket of his jacket, shrugging coolly.

"I'll see you in class on Wednesday then."

As if on cue, the door of your dorm unlocked, swinging open enthusiastically, revealing a smiling Yara.

"Wrong. You'll be seeing her tomorrow." She stated matter-of-factly.

"I will?"

"He will?"

You and Jungkook both expressed your confusion in unison. An amused expression fell over Yara.

"I did some thinking on the walk back from class and decided that Jungkook is taking you out on a date tomorrow." She explained before turning towards the man in question. "When do you finish class tomorrow?"

"Uh... three o'clock?" He answered slowly, eyes flickering to yours to see if you had any idea what your best friend was talking about. You didn't, of course.

Yara tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Perfect, Y/N's last class is at two. Come pick her up here around four."

"Oh, uh, sure." Jungkook nodded, looking somewhat scared of the small but authoritative girl standing before him.

As if snapping back into reality, you shook your head. "Hold on, I didn't agree to this. Don't I get a say in this?"

Yara's eyes flickered towards yours dully, "No."

She clapped her hands together suddenly, directing her attention back to your pretend lover.

"Thanks for walking her over. We'll see you tomorrow at four. Don't be late, bye!" Yara sang sweetly, hand reaching out to wrap around your forearm.

You let out a yelp as you were tugged into the dorm, door slamming shut as you left behind a perplexed looking Jungkook.

"What the hell was that?! Why am I going on a date with him?"

Jungkook could hear your voice through the closed door, pitched angrily and clearly directed at Yara.

"Third base, Y/N. Don't make me say it again."

"I literally can't stand you."

A small laugh fell from the boy as he stood in his place in the hallway, eyebrows furrowing in amused bewilderment as he wondered how he ended up with not just one but two stubborn fake girlfriends.

5K notes · View notes

maryniss · 4 years ago

Text

Dove L’amore

Fandom: Sk8 The Infinity

Summary: Kojiro dances with Kaoru in the restaurant.

Rating: General and Up Audiences

Relationships: Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom

Characters: Nanjo Kojiro | Joe ; Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom

Tags: fluff, dancing, not angsty

Notes: hey short not angsty matchablossom fic here u go muah byeee

Music: Cher-Dove L'amore

Kojiro was feeling surprisingly good today. Why, he didn’t know, but did it actually matter?

He walked into his kitchen, the yellow light of the morning shining shyly through the restaurant’s windows. Outside, it was still too early for cars to be on the road, for people to walk to their workplace.

Ah, did Kojiro loved this kind of mornings, where everything was so peaceful, so tranquil. With the biggest and dumbest smile plastered all over his face, he put on his apron and turned the stove on.

But, the feeling that something was missing was lingering near, not letting him enjoy that beautiful morning completely. What was it that was not there...?

Kojiro suddenly knew. And it was kind of weird, but it didn’t matter as long as he would feel happy. He took his phone and opened YouTube.

“Ah, how was it called...,”muttered he under his breath. “Ah, yeah! That was it!” Kojiro connected his phone to his portable box and pressed play.

Cher’s voice reverberated in the silent room. Kojiro turned the volume to max and let the melody play on repeat.

He went back to the kitchen counter and started preparing the food for that day. Some carrots form under the table, some meat from the fridge and in between a twirl in rhythm with the music. Kojiro took a ladle and tried the soup and then turned off the stove.

“Still no customers, huh?”

Cher’s voice was still filing the room. Kojiro smiled, remembering a very specific night in Paris.

And, suddenly he was singing and dancing. He almost knocked his soup over and he was not far from breaking a chair, but it was fun.

Well, that until the other Cher he knew appeared.

“What are you doing?”

Kojiro hit himself on the corner of the table and screamed.

“I was sure the door was closed...”

Kaoru scoffed and sat himself at a table.

“I used the key you gave me. Also, bring me some food.”

Kojiro frowned.

“Oi, you cant just walk into somebody’s restaurant and demand food...!”

Kojiro laughed and sat back on his chair, his hair almost brushing the floor.

“And turn the music down. You sing and dance horrible.” Oh, ho-ho, at that, Kojiro, who was about to pour Kaoru a hot bowl of soup, really got annoyed. Seriously, he was in such a good mood before!

The green-haired man put the food down on the counter and sat next to Kaoru. Seeing that his friend was about to say something, probably scold him or something, Kojiro reached over the table and pressed his hand over his mouth.

“I think you dance much more worse than me...Kaoru... Remember that night in Paris?” Kaoru’s eyes got bigger and he somehow got the courage to lick the hand covering his face. Kojiro backed away; though it was not the lick that made he do so; he just wanted to saw the pretty, pink blush stretched over his friend’s face.

“You know, I was drunk...!”. Ah. Kojiro really was tired of that excuse. He suddenly sat up and the chair he has sat onto fell on the floor. He grabbed Kaoru’s wrist and the pink-haired man made a cute sound at the sudden action; something like a squirrel would.

“If you don’ remember, should we do it again?”. Kaoru’s face only got a darker shade of pink, almost red. He tried to hide behind his hair, but that left his neck unprotected. Kojiro saw the matching sun tattoo they got that night in Paris. He still wondered how he managed to convince Kaoru to have one. He smiled.

Right then, Cher’s melody started playing again. The sound of guitar filled the room and Kojiro took Kaoru’s hand in his.

“Look, this is how you should put your arms,” said he, guiding Cherry. “I assume that you did not dance with other people besides me, since you seem to hate it so much...Also, who would dance with you with that face? Scary.” Kojiro laughed at the sour look Kaoru gave him; it had no effect with his face being so red.

“I’m joking, I’m joking. Though I may be the only one who finds this face cute.” Kaoru was about to slap him. Probably. But the lyrics started right then and Kojiro was saved.

“Come, on, pay attention. If it won’t be good the first time, we are gonna do it again.”

Dov'e L'Amore Dov'e L'Amore I cannot tell you of my life Here is my story

Kaoru didn’t ask what Kojiro meant by good. His palms were sweaty and he almost tumbled down.

“Of course we’re gonna do it again, since you have no customers. Only I come around here for you horrible food.”

“Mhm, yes, only you, indeed...” Kojiro spun Kaoru around, who gasped. The pink-haired man didn’t know what to say; it was just like that night. And yes, he did remember. But how could he admit to Kojiro? How could he when he knew what they said to each other that night? How could he say that he remembered those words?

He was not ready....His heart could not take it...

“Are your memories coming back to you?”. Kaoru shrugged.

There is no other, there is no other No other love can take your place Or match the beauty of your face I'll keep on singing till the day I carry you away

Their moves were swift and perfectly in sync. It was a simple moment, so simple and so beautiful that Kaoru’s head was spinning. He did not want to get lost, but he did. He got lost in the song and in Kojiro’s eyes and in Kojiro’s arms he did another spin.

They clashed back together and Kaoru tried to catch his breath.

“Do you remember now?”

“The song is not finished.”

They both looked into each other eyes. Kojiro smiled and he took Kaoru in his arms.

“Hey, what the...Put me down!”

Kojiro did not listen. Now, when did he listen to Kaoru? He spun around the restaurant and he laughed. His laugh was genuine and Kaoru could only stay still and look.

Non c'e nessuno Non c'e nessuno Non c'e nessuno Bello come te e ti amo

Kaoru had to hide his face in Kojiro’s chest. He couldn’t control his smile, not anymore. He hated how Kojiro did this to him; bring down everything he worked so hard for. His calm face, his rational mind. Throw them out of the window!

He hated and loved Kojiro and he did not want that moment to end.

But, as Kaoru never have what he desired, a knock interrupted them. He would love to beat that guy outside.

He looked up when Kojiro continued dancing.

“Uhm, there is someone...”

“Let them stay there. I only got food for you anyways. Since you love my bad cooking.” And, just like that the song finished. For a brief second, they looked at each other. And Kaoru smiled and the song started again.

That day, no customers were allowed to enter and neither Joe or Cherry were at S. And the song played all the day...

I'll keep on singing till the day I carry you away With my love song, with my love song With my love song, with my love song

***

Bonus:

The night was warm and kind of quiet. A drunk Kaoru and a drunk Kojiro stumbled across the streets of Paris, trying to find the way to their hotel.

“I told you ~hic~! it was a bad idea ~hic~!... to drink so much ~hiC~!, you brainless gorilla!”

“Well, when did I ever ~BuRp~ listen to you! ~hic~

Kaoru made a sheesh sign towards his friend.

“Do you hear?”

“What should I ~hic!~ hear?”

Cher’s Dove l’amore was raging from afar.

“Come on, dance with me, Kojiro.”

And they danced. And they kissed. And they confessed. And they danced.

And maybe they were just a bit too drunk. Or maybe they liked the song a bit too much.

But, the Paris’s streets thought otherwise. I guess they were just a little bit too much in love with each other.

***

non angsty matchblossom?? me?? surprise shawty hope u liked it muah byee!!

#matchblossom #sk8 joe #sk8 cherry blossom

5 notes · View notes

simplyyeol · 6 years ago

Text

what happens in paris

genre — soulmate! au, fluff, angst-ish

pairing — baby boy pcy x reader

word count — 10.085 what the fuck

warnings — language

description — you find yourself going on a trip to paris with your soulmate. it’s not too bad if you manage to overlook the fact that he hates your guts.

author’s note — hello! i don’t really know if i did this au well or not, but you know. me. back at it again with the cliches. sorry in advance, there is alot of cliche i hope it didn’t drag out too long i tried to incorporate a lot of thought bc character development! idk. also this might be my favorite thing i’ve written so far gahhd! yeah. anyways, enjoy! this took way longer than it should’ve

A smile bloomed on your face as you hopped out of the taxi, the driver coming around to help your excited state grab your luggage from the trunk. You politely said your thank you, bowing, having already paid in the car before practically skipping inside the terminal.

Checking your phone, the online check-in page of your ticket confirmation shown before you double-checked the text. You were at the right terminal, you thought. Nothing had gone wrong so far. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself, before entering the airport.

The line for the online check-in was thankfully short as you passed through that with smiles. There was still two hours until your boarding time you noticed, stopping in the middle of the crowd, not certain on where to go next. Baekhyun had said he would meet you at the airport—you'd forgotten to ask him where and when.

That was when you saw Chanyeol.

Or he saw you. There was something in the air that made your eyes tear away from your screen, your finger hovering over Baekhyun's contact. Something made you drawn towards his broad figure, that made you catch his eye when his wardrobe was nothing special—it wouldn't have caught your eye given someone else was wearing the same thing. Then again, you pondered, he is your soulmate. Maybe he felt whatever it was too as his step faltered, taking you in, with no one surrounding you. If it weren’t for the mop of striking silver hair he’d dyed it earlier in the year, or his long limbs, or even his pointy ears that stood out from under his beanie, you would’ve never guessed it was him. Or you would’ve. Only because of the sixth sense you get when you meet your soulmate.

Not many people meet their soulmate. It’s a fact. You’d had to do a research paper on it once in middle school and if you remember correctly, only 8% of the world’s population find their soulmate. And you happened to be in that 8%.

You’d seen him at the beginning of freshman year, during your first week, when you felt something wash over you as he made eye contact. Like someone poured a ton of warmth and covered you with a blanket while giving you some hot cocoa. You’ve only ever heard of soulmates with happy endings so when he’d turned away, a frown etched on his handsome face, the fantasies running through your head broke like a dam.

He wasn’t in any of your courses last year, or your first year, but this year he was.

In your Statistics course to be exact. You’re honestly not that bad at statistics. The concepts are fine. You do pretty well on the tests too. However, you still despised Statistics with a hatred that ran deep. Obviously due to him, if that wasn’t clear enough.

Chanyeol doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t go out of his way to annoy you, tease you, or pick on you. He’s not particularly fond of you either. Maybe he knows you. You don’t know if he knows your name—although there is attendance so you could beg to differ—he acts as if you aren’t there. That his soulmate isn’t there.

The only possible honest to God answer you’ve gotten as to why he doesn’t talk to you, acts like you are nothing, like a piece of gum on someone’s shoe, is because he doesn’t like you. You’ve even overheard him telling Baekhyun that you aren’t his type. You weren’t there to hear anything else as you fled from there, eyes glassy with tears. Chanyeol is very handsome. You’d begrudgingly admitted that when you actually noticed how many girls flank his sides while he merely walks through the campus corridors. He’s tall, sporting a modelesque face, thin but you were sure he packed in some muscle underneath, and he has an amazing sense of fashion. Girls are lining over for him, left and right.

And you—you’re just lacking. In your eyes at least. And Chanyeol’s as well.

He really took one look at you and deemed you not pretty enough to be his soulmate. He is the guy that dates the girls in the modeling and acting majors with a body and face that rival any female celebrity. You couldn’t possibly beat any of them.

If you thought about it frankly, it was pathetic. How horribly he treats you. How you look at him from the sidelines with a spotlight shining over him when he doesn’t even glance your way. How you know--even though fate literally attached you to him--it’ll never happen. You’ve gotten mad and ranted with Baekhyun about it as well (he got mad with you and claimed to come and beat him up for you, but you quickly declined not wanting to ruin his face because you just knew he would lose--and you didn’t want him to fight his friend. Yeah, your soulmate who hates you and your best friend are friends. Lucky, right?) and you said that you’d show him a piece of your mind. But the next day, your entire demeanor deflated. The voice in the back of your head started its whispering. Don’t bother him, you already know how he feels about you. And the anger left you.

You’ve come to terms with it now—only sending the back of his head in class a few sad smiles from time to time and other than that you ignore him. If he ignores you, you should ignore him. Why should you pine over someone who barely knows you exist? (Your tiny crush on him says otherwise and acts accordingly.)

You were surprised to see him here of all places and with the luggage too. Apparently, Chanyeol was traveling for the holidays as well. He narrowed his eyes and suddenly you felt like he was analyzing you. You felt small and almost like you were about to suffocate. You tore your eyes away from him and back to your screen. Just a coincidence, you thought. No need for any bad thoughts, Y/N! Can’t let that trouble you and ruin your big, big day! Or well week since you were going to paradise for a whole five days. Too short, now that you think about it.

At the thought of why you were at the airport suddenly came crashing back on you, your previous jitters returning, you quickly pressed on your roommate's number, the calling screen popping up before you pressed it to your ear.

“Y/N? Are you here yet?” Baekhyun asked. You and Baekhyun went to the same high school and had bonded over your similar love for SNSD. You would skip class together to watch the comeback showcase and your friendship only grew from there. It wasn’t that much of a surprise when you and Baekhyun ended up going to the same college. Not many of his friends were keen on living alone, leaving the two of you on one side. You decided to live together seeing no problems arise.

“I am. Checked in my bag and I’m kind of in front of the entrance?” You said, scanning the mass of people to see if you could spot him.

“Okay, one sec, Cha—my friend is checking in his bag right now...can you meet us at the Starbucks?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.”

You cut the call and made your way over to the Starbucks you spotted earlier.

You and Baekhyun were supposed to be going on a trip of the lifetime—to Paris of all places! It was a dream that both of you had had. He’d gone and done everything, his excitement to the max at the thought of finally being able to go traveling with you. However, in the end, he couldn’t come. He’d gotten a promotion at a radio, something he couldn’t miss. It was a big step in his singing career--people would actually be hearing him now—and you’d sadly accepted the fact that you wouldn’t be able to go with him.

He still didn’t want you going alone, the best friend he was and somehow managed to convince a friend of his to go with you. You asked which friend of his (he had too many) but he stubbornly told you it’d be a surprise. You were okay with anyone except for one person, but you had a bad feeling that crawled up your spine after your previous encounter.

You tapped at your phone, sipping your drink while playing a game that your 9-year old cousin had demanded you download as it was a must by her standards.

“Y/N?” You looked up to see Baekhyun standing over your table. You dropped your phone, practically tackling him and squealing, pulling him into a hug, the excitement rolling off you in waves.

“Well, aren’t you excited.” He mused.

“So much, you don’t even know.” You voiced, pulling back before pouting. “Now you have to tell me. Who is it?”

He smirked before cocking his head to the side. Your head whipped to where he was gesturing.

“No—” you spluttered seeing the familiar face.

“Chanyeol!” He called waving his arms, motioning for him to come here, while you had your mini panic attack.

You looked at him, something akin to fear displayed on your face. You almost threw up half the macchiato you downed just a few minutes before seeing Chanyeol rolling his luggage with him.

Baekhyun smiles, beaming, before leaning closer to your ear. “You'll thank me later.”

The excitement form your face has fully washed off, as you purse your lips. “I don’t think so, Baek.”

“See this is why I didn’t tell you! I knew you’d act like this.” He pouted before turning around and pulling Chanyeol to you.

“Hi.” Chanyeol starts, slowly, cautiously, as he sees you looking anywhere but at him. Was he okay with this? Going to another fucking country with you? Was he not freaking out? Did Baekhyun tell him that it was you he was going with? No— did Baekhyun bribe him? You felt small under your soulmate's eyes, and you hated it.

You almost feel like crying, and you don’t even know why as you wave a heartless wave back. You can’t deal with this right now. Nope. No way. You choose not to.

“I’ll be right back,” you mutter, grabbing your phone and heading towards the bathroom. You head into a stall and give yourself ten seconds. Ten seconds to cry before you put on a smile. A tiny sob racks out of your chest and you thank God your relationship with Chanyeol hasn’t progressed enough for him to feel your feelings. You’d actually die if that was the case.

You take a deep breath when you hit one and quickly dab at your eyes with your over-sized hoodie. At least you didn’t wear any mascara. You press the tips of your fingers, which are slightly cold, to your eyes, afraid of the puffiness before walking out of the stall. You give yourself a smile seeing no trace. You can do this. This is nothing. If anything, maybe you can try and get to know him on the trip, and maybe learn more about him and why he doesn’t like you. You paused glancing at your sparkling eyes. Nothing can ruin your first trip abroad, by yourself. Not even him. The smile you sported suddenly felt a lot less heavy from before your pep talk. I can do this, you repeated like a mantra. You whisper to yourself a small ‘fighting!’ before you walk out of the bathroom to go meet your doom.

Chanyeol frowns when he sees you, as a small thank you passes from your lips when you see your backpack on his shoulder since they’d moved from the cafe. You shoulder your backpack, ignoring the stare that you could literally feel on you from a certain giant.

“Great!” Baekhyun announces, not seeming to notice the tension between you to. Or maybe he chose to ignore it. Or it was just your imagination. “Now that you two are energized and ready to go, I’ll be taking my leave—"

“Wait!” You interject. A blush settles on your face when you realize you sounded a little too panicked to be considered cool, calm and collected. Not freaking out on the inside. “Uh...goodbye hug?” He chuckles at your excuse and opens his arms. You give him a small smile and walk in, glad for the warmth that the man practically radiates. You’re actually going to miss the annoying idiot. Even though you were going to Paris, he had wanted to go too. It was on both your bucket lists and you felt sad that he wouldn’t be there to experience it with you.

“We can always go next time,” he mutters, practically reading your thoughts. “Don’t be sad.” He let’s go, smiling down at you, and you pout as he pats your head in a teasing manner. He gives Chanyeol the more masculine hug, bro-hug you like to call it, and says his last words, turning around to leave, two of you now alone.

Well, you both were still in the airport where hundreds of people surrounded you but still, alone.

You spoke up, not sure of what to do next. “I guess we should go too—" Chanyeol turns seeing Baekhyun exit, the airport giving you one last dramatic wave, not sparing you a glance before leaving. “Or not,” You mutter, dejectedly, hurrying to follow behind him. You didn’t know if you should follow him, but the two of you were technically traveling together, right? Couldn’t hurt if you annoy him a little more.

You got on the plane with no hassle. It was a long flight, 12 hours to be exact, the longest you’ve ever been on a plane—and it wasn’t until you boarded, and put your backpack overhead, Chanyeol helping you put yours as he saw you struggling when you realized you were scared. Well, a scared type of nervous. A nervous type of scared. You forgot about the jitters that always seem to crawl up behind you when you take off. Something about the plane tilting so weird made butterflies flutter in your stomach. And not the good kind.

Your hands gripped the handlebars a little too tight, your knuckles turning white. Your eyes were shut closed as the plane lifted and you missed the glances Chanyeol sent your way seeing your frenzied state. You should really get rid of this stupid fear.

One thing you’ve noticed is that you can never sleep on planes. Well, just the first part. Trying to sleep right after taking off? Yeah, you could never. You saw Chanyeol pull an eye mask from his bag and put it on and mentally made a note to maybe try that sometime. Maybe it’d help.

The time on the tiny TV in front of you said there were almost six hours left. Halfway there. You turned from listening to music to watching a movie, and you were scrolling through the new Disney movies that were released this year when you felt something land on your shoulder.

You managed a peek and froze. It was Chanyeol. He’d wiggled out in his seat, legs awkwardly spread as they were too long from the cramped up seat and he somehow came to your height, head lolling on your shoulder. You glanced at the person sitting next to Chanyeol, an old man in his late 40’s. At least he didn’t land on him.

You let go of the breath you were holding not feeling him move and continuing to find another movie. The position looks as comfortable as it gets for an economy class ticket to Paris. You’d spare your shoulder if it meant his comfort any day.

Maybe it was after the third movie you fell asleep on Chanyeol’s head that was still resting on your shoulder.

So when he woke and found you sleeping on his head, it was the hardest minute of his life to move you comfortably to his shoulder without waking you up.

He looked at your face, a pout lining your lips. He wanted nothing more than to smash his lips on them.

When Baekhyun had asked if he'd wanted to go on a trip with you, cautiously of course (he knew your relationship with him), he'd accepted thinking that maybe he should try. He should try this whole soulmate thing with you when Baekhyun explained to him that his parents were just horrible. Not at all like what soulmates become.

He started to regret it after seeing you at the airport and now all he wanted to do was wrap you up in his embrace and smother you with kisses. The stupid soulmate bond getting in the way of his rational thoughts. It didn't help that the hoodie you were wearing was over-sized, practically swallowing you making you look even more adorable.

He looked away, groaning, his head falling back against the seat. This is not good.

He saw the movie you were watching still playing and lightly chuckled seeing as your headphones were still on. You must’ve been really tired to have slept through that noise. He peeled them off, carefully, and turned off the screen before resting his head on yours again. He found that it was much more comfortable than the seat behind him as his eyes fluttered shut, sleep overtaking him once again.

When you woke, Chanyeol was already awake and your chest tightened, hoping beyond belief he didn’t mind you leaning against him. You couldn’t have him hating you any more or getting the wrong idea. But what could be the wrong idea? You were simply sleeping. Even if he did, his face was void of emotion so if he did care, he shrugged it off—maybe saying something your unconscious body had done, so it wasn’t your fault. You blew a breath out, thankful to spare the embarrassment that would’ve come if he had questioned you before the seat belt sign had turned off. You’d officially landed.

Chanyeol had gotten your backpack that you’d gratefully taken from him as you boarded off the plane.

The Paris airport was bustling to the brim and you could only look with wide eyes at everything surrounding you. It intrigued you, how everything looked so similar. All the elements of the Seoul airport were there, but it was so different at the same time. The feeling of Paris seeped through the small cracks as you saw everything laid in front of you.

How instead of Korean and English, it was French and English printed on the signs overhead. A voice in the back of your head said the language of love, and you couldn’t help but think how ironic it was, in your situation.

No mishaps had occurred as you got to the hotel you’d be staying at for the next week. You’d checked in, both you and Chanyeol having separate rooms, although they were next to each other. You’d quickly said no when they asked if you’d like to change to a single room. The blush that stained your cheeks had stayed up the elevator until you scrambled into your room and muttered a quick ‘see you tomorrow’ to Chanyeol.

You spent the rest of the evening washing up and organizing the events you’d already booked for tomorrow. You wondered if Baekhyun was still awake and were reaching for your phone to text him when your stomach growled. You groaned remembering that you’d slept through the in-flight meal and the last thing you’d digested was that measly drink from Starbucks. Maybe you should go and get dinner.

You looked at the menu booklet that you’d found on the sleek coffee table in the corner of the room, that showed the items for room service but blanched at the price of each plate. The hotel Baekhyun reserved was exquisite, to say the least. You counted the money that you’d exchanged earlier at the airport and deemed that you’ll exchange some more tomorrow morning. It wouldn’t hurt to skip dinner if you just slept now.

A knock at the door had made you freeze in your spot, sprawled on the floor. You got up, not expecting anyone and looked through the peephole, curiously. Chanyeol was standing there, his eyes cast downwards as he scrolled through his phone. You’d scrambled back. Why was he here? Was there something wrong? Did he lose something? You peaked again and noticed his casual stature. It doesn’t look like anything is wrong…maybe he just forgot something trivial and needed to borrow it for you. You popped your hood, thinking your hair was probably a mess, hoping that nothing was actually up before opening the door.

“Oh, you’re still awake.” His eyes raked your figure up and down, and your feet shuffled, nervous under his scrutinizing gaze. “I was just going to grab some food—you didn’t have dinner yet, did you?”

You shook your head. “I’m not that hungry—”

The rumbling of your stomach interrupted you. A blush settled on your cheeks as a small smile painted his handsome face. You managed a nervous chuckle before saying you’ll be out in ten and softly shut the door behind you. After you were sure the lock had clicked, you’d stumbled to your bed and dived head first before thrashing a little, heart soaring through the clouds. Did Park Chanyeol just ask you to go out with him?

You settled for a small diner that lined the streets next to your hotel. The aroma when you entered the restaurant made you salivate at how good it smelled.

You were excited for the food until you saw the waitress practically waltz to your table. She was blonde, tall, with long legs, and big breasts. You couldn’t help but think she was pretty even as she gave a very inappropriate look to your soulmate. She leaned over the table, showing off even more cleavage and you rolled your eyes.

And then you saw Chanyeol. And where exactly he was looking. You scoffed as she sent you a smirk and a tiny part inside of you died remembering when he had said you weren’t his type. Maybe she was his type. You glanced at your chest and suddenly felt small in comparison.

His eyes fluttered to yours as you quickly looked back at your menu, embarrassed as you’d been caught staring at him. What’s wrong with you? You’re not his type and nothing can change that.

The waitress had walked back, a bounce in her step, knowing the effect she had on Chanyeol, after taking your orders and you’d been down in the dumps since.

Dinner was silent until you tried breaking the silence. It couldn’t possibly hurt to try and know more about your travel buddy if not soulmate, could it?

“What are you majoring in?” You chanced, eyes wide as you took another bite of your pasta, eyes focused on him.

He looked up at you and swallowed. “Music.”

You hummed. It made sense. Chanyeol seemed like...a free spirit. He doesn’t seem like the person who would want to major in something sturdy like law or medicine because his parents told him to. A content smile spread over his lips and you realized that he must love what he does.

“What about you?”

“Oh, um, business.” You gave him a small smile. “Boring, right? I’ve always wanted to learn guitar.” You said, sadly. “Seems fun.”

“Business isn’t..boring.” He mused, questionably you’d add, and then. “Why didn’t you?” He questions, lips down-turned.

“My parents thought it was a waste of money.” You played with the pasta on your plate, fork scratching the glass. You’d never gave it a second thought. If your parents used that excuse, that usually meant it would never happen. Money was a touchy subject in your family, as you didn’t grow up in a lavish environment. “Never got the chance.”

“I could teach you.” Your head shot up, confused at his words. “Maybe when we get back.”

“Why?” You said, cocking your head. Why would he want to teach you guitar on top of his classes and probably extracurriculars? He also had his own social life.

“What do you mean why?” He questioned back.

“I—um, never mind.” Gosh, why did you have to ask that? You don’t even know what you were saying anymore. “Thank you,” you quickly added.

It’s silence until you speak up about the thing that’s been bothering you. “Baekhyun said that he convinced you to come with me—is that right?”

“Yeah. He said it when all of the guys were out. I’ve always wanted to go abroad.”

“Did you know you’d be coming with me?” You asked, hesitantly, looking at him with big eyes.

“Yeah.”

You wondered if you should bring up the part about how he treated you, but a voice in the back of your head told you to just go for it. You’re on the topic already.

“I thought you didn’t like me.”

“What?”

“I mean, you don’t even talk to me, and you can’t possibly be clueless as to the fact that we’re soulmates.” His eyes widen, as you realize this is the first time you made it known. Sure you knew it, thought about it, practically every day, and you’re sure he knows it too. But this is the first time the both of you are actually discussing it. You scoffed inside. You’d known him for almost three years and this is the first time it’s come up between the two of you.

“I don’t hate you,” he mutters.

“What?” This is, what you'd call frustrating. “Well, I know I’m not your type but that doesn’t mean you have to reject me being your soulmate. You didn’t even give me a chance—” you choke, halting your tirade.

He cocks his head. “I never told you, you weren’t my type—”

“I heard,” you interjected. “Freshman year, you told Baekhyun in our apartment and I heard. And I get that I’m not what you want, but you never even gave me a chance.” You look at him, pleadingly, before sighing. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“I—I don’t hate you,” he splutters.

“You don’t have to lie.” You state, standing up from the table. Where all your confidence is coming from, only God knows. His hand shoots out to hold your arm and you pull it away, goosebumps rising, when you felt a small shock from that touch.

You glare at him. “If you don’t hate me, then it’s okay to say you don’t like me being your—”

“I just never wanted a soulmate, okay?” He interjects, eyebrows furrowed at you. “It’s not you.” You falter. It wasn’t you he didn’t want. It was the fact he never wanted what you were to him. “I don’t hate you, okay.” He looked at you, eyes big and soft before confessing. “I kind of wanted to go on this trip with you.”

You slowly sat back down, mouth effectively shut up for the rest of dinner, thoughts consuming you as you finished off your plate. He never wanted a soulmate? So when he said he wanted to go with you, he meant to get you know you as a friend? Were you just friend-zoned by him? Something in your gut didn’t feel right and you remembered how you had a tiny crush on him. Totally not platonic feelings. Is this really what your future will be? You mentally slammed your head against the table. Maybe you should get up and leave his forever, because you just know that you’ll fall for him even more, if you started this. But there was still a small part in your heart that just said, take what you could get. Maybe it’ll work in your favor. You glanced at the man in question, chomping on a bread stick while scrolling through his phone seemingly unaffected. He still is your soulmate. Just the thought of leaving him seemingly made your heart break into pieces that could never be put back together.

“The food’s really good,” was all you could manage, trying a light tone.

“Yeah, it is.” He replied.

When the bill came around you rummaged through your purse for the right note but Chanyeol had already handed the correct amount.

“Wait, no, it’s fine I can pay half, what are you doing—”

“I pay this time and you pay the next?” He offered, already handing over the money. You frowned at him huffing an okay not really seeing a choice before waiting for him at the entrance.

As you strolled the Parisian streets next to Chanyeol, you realized that he said the next time also. Did that mean he wanted to eat with you, again? Your heart couldn’t help but flutter a smile growing on your lips at the possibilities that swam through your mind. And then you remembered. He didn’t want a soulmate. The smile was gone.

Maybe you should’ve just skipped dinner.

In the past few months, you’ve visited every top tourist attraction website you could find on the whole internet including Paris and finally, after the very long wait, you got to experience it.

Today marks the first day of your trip in Paris. You’d be going to the Moulin Rouge before taking a cruise on the Seine.

You were getting ready, having just gotten out of the shower and settling for a pair of jeans and a hoodie with your long coat over from the chilly weather forecast of today, when you felt it.

A searing pain on your forearm pulling a shriek from you. You ran towards the sink feeling tears prick at your eyes because that really fucking hurt. And based on previous knowledge that was a burn. You had gotten a burn when you were nowhere near anything hot. Which meant only one other thing.

It was Chanyeol. You'd been bonded. You laughed heartlessly as the cold water washed over your skin. He said he didn’t want a soulmate and the very next day you get bonded to him. How amazing.

You’ve figured out over the day that Chanyeol is very clumsy. You’ve got bruises on your knees, elbows, and finger when you think that he slammed his finger on a door. He was literally going to be the death of you and it hasn’t even been one fucking day, you think.

You decide to bring it up to him, even though you knew you’d probably forget. You have low pain tolerance. If anything else you’ll go into shock living with this bond for the rest of your life, you thought.

The Seine left you absolutely awestruck. You’d boarded a cruise for the evening, the tour guide explaining that it was the prettiest during sunset. And she wasn’t wrong.

The pinks and orange hues faded into the blue as you saw the sunset far off. The purple and black of the night took over the sky and you couldn’t help but sigh at the beauty it held. It was almost time to get off and you, Chanyeol and a young couple--you guessed in their early 30’s sat at a table. You’d ordered a soda and Chanyeol a tea.

A big mistake you liked to call it. The boat rocked just as Chanyeol’s lips were to taste the matcha and the piping hot burn seared on your chest right where he had spilled it. You’d spilled the coke you were holding over your shirt as well from the shock, on your white button-up shirt, before you huffed setting down the empty glass. He can’t possibly know that you’ve been bonded when you were taking the brunt of the hits.

“Are you always burning yourself or what?” You barked, turning to Chanyeol who was sporting a similar stain to your own. He had tissues in his hand when he looked down at your shirt, then back to your face as a blush coated his features.

“What?” He called.

“This morning, you burned yourself on something didn’t you?”

“Yes, but how did you know—?”

“Are you fucking stupid or—" you rolled up your sleeve and pinched the supple skin there, and he yelped.

“No...” He breathed.

“Yes. So please, try and be more careful from now on.”

The couple which Chanyeol found had an adorable kid took their seats on the chairs across from you. He looked around only now noticing that the deck was packed, many lingering around the edges of the deck, not having a seat. Thank God, you’d grabbed a seat beforehand and told him to keep his stuff so someone wouldn’t take your seat. He couldn’t fathom standing for a whole two hours with sore legs, if only from strolling through Paris in the afternoon.

Chanyeol watched the couple bicker, lovingly, before one of their kids spilled scalding hot tea over the father. He chuckled. That just happened to him as well. But what came next shocked him.

The mother turned to the child who looked upon his parents, bottom lip trembling, tears spilling out. “I’m sorry, did it hurt a lot?” He cried.

Chanyeol thought he only spilled the tea on the father before he caught a glance of an angry red on the mother’s forearm. Right where the father was wiping it with a tissue.

“It’s okay, it was only an accident, don’t cry. It doesn’t even hurt that much.” The mother soothed the child, shushing him.

He realized. The couple was bonded. With a child. His mind was in a frenzy before your voice next to him pulled out from his thoughts.

“Are you two soulmates?” You asked, eyes sparkling and lips pulled into a smile.

The couple nodded as a small, dreamy sigh left your lips and only Chanyeol could see the tiniest motion as you deflated.

“That’s lovely.” You spoke before your eyes met Chanyeol’s.

Chanyeol looked straight at you, gaze unwavering as he thought of how maybe this whole time he’s seen it wrong. You were surprised, quickly looking away from his eyes, a sudden blush rising in your cheeks.

Maybe it really could be different for him.

You’d woken up the next morning absolutely ecstatic for the busy day to come. The prospect of seeing the Palace of Versailles—all the greenery, the history hidden behind each stone placed, the architecture—something you’ve only dreamed of seeing in person sent jitters all over again through your body. This is exactly what you wanted when you planned to travel.

You checked the time and remembered that you forgot to remind Chanyeol last night that the bus would arrive earlier. A voice in the back of your mind told you not to tell him but then you remembered. He was in Paris because he wanted to travel. You know how excited you were—you couldn’t possibly do that to him. You figured that you should go right now but quickly chickened out, deeming it too awkward for you to go to his door and knock. Sure, your relationship has gotten a little better (he did want to be friends with you)—and he doesn’t treat you like dirt anymore but nothing like the dreams you’ve dreamed of.

You picked up your phone and clicked on his contact--having gotten his number for emergencies. Both of you had gotten international plans for the trip as roaming charges were never pleasant.

chanyeol?

are you up?

Even after ten minutes, he didn’t reply and he couldn’t possibly be ignoring you. He wouldn’t stoop that low. You hesitated before thinking, fuck it, and pressing the call button.

It rang a few times before he picked up his groggy morning voice filling your ear. “Y/N? Is there something wrong?”

Your stomach leaped at how his words slurred and you thought of how adorable he would look. No, bad Y/N. Don’t think like that. “Um, no, are you awake yet? The tour bus we're taking leaves at 9:30—”

“That’s today?” He interjects. “Shit, I should probably get ready—thank you, God, if you weren’t here—“

He hung up the call then and you lowered the phone a small smile playing on your lips. He’s glad that you’re here with him.

Later you hit your head against the wall of your bed because you are not supposed to be thinking those thoughts over what he says. He probably doesn’t mean how you think it means. You’re looking too into things, Y/N. You have got to stop.

You showed up at his door later, his promise of you paying for the next meal going through your thoughts. You don’t usually eat breakfast, but the thought of trying actual French croissants in France made your mouth water.

In the end, you made your way to the breakfast buffet at your hotel and took everything you thought look good in a to-go box for Chanyeol and you to share.

You'd rung the doorbell and after you heard a door shut inside and some more shuffling he opened the door. You yelped before turning around. He only had a towel on.

He smirked. “There’s still half an hour,” he remarked.

You lifted up the bag, now looking at the floor. “I brought breakfast.”

He tentatively took it from your fingers before sniffing it and moaning in pleasure. He walked inside to his room leaving the door open and you took that as permission to enter as well. “You are literally a godsend, Y/N, this smells amazing.”

Your blush darkens. “Should I wait, until you’re done dressing or—?”

“You can wait, I’ll be a minute,” he says and you hear what you think is the bathroom close before letting out the breath you were unknowingly holding. You flop on one of the chairs near the coffee table, identical to the one in your own room. That was way too much exposure for you at only nine in the morning. Did the universe hate you? Is that why your life is like this? You take your orange juice and chug it suddenly feeling a little too hot when you hear Chanyeol’s phone ring.

You look at the phone number with ‘Mother’ written and then to the bathroom. Is it nosy if you pick up? But what if it’s important? In the end, you pick up the phone, seeing as a few rings already passed. “Hello?”

“Hello, Chanyeol? Are you home, right now? Remember that book—”

“Um, Ma’am. This is Y/N, Chanyeol’s--um, friend.”

“Oh.” She pauses. “Where’s Chanyeol?”

“He’s in the bathroom, right now.” Your eyebrows furrow, repeating what she said in your brain. Home? Did Chanyeol not tell her about being in Paris? You don’t say anything as you only hear static on the other side.

“Oh,” she finally replies, and you’re shocked at how uninterested she is. Does she really not know?

You hear the door open and Chanyeol sees you with his phone as you look at him.

“Who is it?” He asks across the room, hanging up his towel on the clothes rack to the side.

“Your mother,” you mouth. His eyes widen and it only takes him two strides to reach and snatch the phone from your hand. His face turns cold and you feel as if you’ve done something wrong.

“I’ll call you later, Mother.” He says, before hanging up.

You keep your lips closed as he sighs and looks at you. “Why did you pick up?”

“I—um,” you splutter.

“Whatever, just don’t do it again.” He snapped as you curled in yourself wanting nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. Apparently, you were being nosy.

He sprawls over the other chair, silently and unwraps the food. You watch him practically inhale the food, not making any move. He looks pissed.

“Sorry.” You both say simultaneously. You hold eye contact with him for an exact five seconds before he looks away.

“Did you not tell your mom that you were going to Paris?” You try. “Are…you not close with her?”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute. And then,

“My parents are soulmates.” Your eyes widen, microscopically. Well, this is big news. The fact that you even found your soulmate was huge. You don’t even know anyone close to you that has found their soulmate. And have a kid too.

“They treated me like a stranger and only cared about themselves and I—” he stopped, a slight tremble in his lips. “I thought that that was what the soulmate bond does to people. It makes them into parasites who don’t care for those around them.” He looks at you, eyes just the tiniest bit teary. “I never wanted a soulmate because of them. She couldn’t care less. Whether I’m in Korea or across the world.”

You put yourself in his shoes. The people in his life who were supposed to love you, take care of you, comfort you, cry with you, were absent in his life—his parents were nonexistent in his life. You went over what he said in your head. He thought it was because of the soulmate bond? That’s why he doesn’t want a soulmate?

“Chanyeol? I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s because of the soulmate bond.” You blurt. He stops chewing on a sausage, looking at you. “I think they’re just assholes.” Your eyes widened. Wait, you didn’t mean to call his parents assholes! “Shit, that’s not what I—”

His boisterous laughter cuts through the room, bouncing off the walls, making it feel much livelier than what two—practically strangers—could do. “That’s what Baekhyun always says,” he chokes out between laughs. Is he one of those people who laugh at the stupidest of things? Because if he is, then you wouldn’t mind looking up the lamest dad jokes to get him laugh—no! Y/N, you can’t do that!

You find your resolve fading, though, as you can’t help but chuckle along with his never ending laughter.

The Louvre felt like a dream that you’d unnervingly stepped into. A tour guide was assigned to you, Chanyeol and a few other cute elderly couples wearing matching tourist shirts. You couldn’t help but wonder if they were soulmates too who’d grown old together—just like all the children stories said, the revelation from yesterday affecting your thoughts.

Your phone’s battery was quickly depleting if only from how many pictures you’d taken. You haven’t even reached half of the tour before your stomach is grumbling and to your embarrassment, Chanyeol, who has been walking next to you, hears it.

He calls to the tour guide and asks when they can stop for a lunch break and you all decide after you see the most famous exhibit: the Mona Lisa.

It didn’t take you long to stray from the group. Seeing as you’d go back after taking a closer picture, you’d used your height (which you’re usually very self-conscious about) to your advantage, passing through the hordes of people.

You’d gotten out of the crowd, finished with your admiration of the painting while you looked at the pictures you managed. They were pretty good if you said so yourself. Pocketing your phone, you looked up and tried spotting your group. You walked around a little, going back to where you’d parted before the realization hits you when you didn’t see them.

You quickly call Chanyeol, not knowing who else to call on this situation. He doesn’t pick up and you see that your battery is currently at 6%. This could not be happening to you right now.

You walked to a less populated part of the room suddenly feeling panicky at the hordes of people. There was probably a hundred people in this room right now and yet you knew none of them. You tried calling him again, afraid that your battery would die.

“Please, please, please, pick up,” you muttered like a mantra. Maybe God had sent you a gift when he picked up the phone.

“Chanyeol! Where are you right now, I can’t—“ your phone buzzed and you groaned seeing the screen go black. Your stupid phone with its stupid battery. Why did you take so many pictures again?

You tried looking on the bright side. He couldn’t be far, at the very most in another room. If anything he probably noticed that you aren’t by his side anymore (the both of you stuck together like glue today seeing as none of the other people in your group seemingly fit into people you could talk with). Hopefully, he’d find you soon enough. You’re a grown adult. You can’t be scared in broad daylight over nothing.

It’s been an hour and you still haven’t seen any sight of Chanyeol, and yes you were a grown adult who is totally capable of traveling alone, but you were scared. You could always go back to your hotel, but you left your money with Chanyeol as he’d brought a bigger bag and you didn’t have enough for a taxi fare back. So technically you couldn’t. Not being able to resist your hunger you’d managed to figure out where a nearby cafe was and used the rest of the money. You barely had enough for it too. You sat at one of the tables, munching on a sandwich and playing with your still dead phone. If only you had a charger.

And that’s when it hit you. This is the 21st century. Everyone had phones. With this many people, there’s probably one person with a charger—you sprung up and went to the counter hoping beyond belief your statement was correct.

“Hello? What can I get for you?” The women asked, shooting you a smile.

“Actually,” you started, “you don’t happen to have a phone charger on you, do you? My phone died and I lost my friend, and I need to call them but I don’t know his number.” You explained, a meek smile on your face.

She eyes your phone before her eyes lit up. “Oh! Yeah! You’re lucky that you have the same phone as me.” She gestured for you to come to the back through the opening on the side. You almost cried at the realization that you weren’t doomed.

“Thank you—" you paused, glancing at her name tag, “—Mia. You’re a lifesaver.”

“It’s no problem, really, but, I have to get back to the counter, so...”

“Oh yeah, totally go ahead. I’m not going to steal any mugs if that’s what you’re saying.” You shooed her off, sending a smile before leaning against the counter, a sigh leaving your lips.

You wanted to go back to your sandwich, but an inkling in the back of your head told you not to lose your phone as well. So you stayed, keeping an eye out just in case. When your phone lit up again, it was at 20% and you’d harrumphed in excitement, unplugging the cord and making your way back to your table. You’d quickly finished the last of your sandwich before clicking the call button when someone grabbed your arm.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N, what the fuck—” they said and you pulled away in shock.

You looked startled glancing at the young man breathing harshly beside you, hands resting on his knees as he takes a deep breath—you guessed--from running. It wasn’t until he raised his head that you realized you weren’t lost anymore.

“Chanyeol!” You exclaimed, and before you knew it you were tackling him in a hug. Maybe it was the fact that you’d gotten lost in a foreign country with a foreign language and you’d had no idea what to do. But seeing his face, a familiar face made tears prick at your eyes. He’d froze under your touch and you realized you were hugging him before you quickly let go. “Shit, sorry,” you rambled and pulled back, trying your best to blink away the tears. Why are you crying? What the hell? Is there something wrong with you?

He looked down at your weathered state and pulled you back into his arms in the middle of the debate in your head. You couldn’t help the tears that started rolling down your face, feeling the warmth emanate from him. You’re sure you soaked his hoodie as you wrap your arms around him, ear pressed against his heart as you heard the calm thump thump thump of his heartbeat that made you feel safer than ever before.

He refused to let you out of your sight for the rest of the day leaving you confused. Frazzled. Extremely concerned because where did the old Chanyeol go? Well, he had confessed that he kind of wanted to go on this trip with you. Technically that meant he wouldn't treat you horribly. This is what friends do for each other right? They look out for you. Well, you weren’t really complaining (even with how much he made you question yourself when he steered you closer to him when you'd strayed, his warm hands placed on your shoulders) as you were about to go take an angled picture of the Flying Carpet structure in the middle of the courtyard but was stopped by Chanyeol grabbing your hand.

You look back glancing at his hand in yours then back to his face, blushing. “I’m just going to go and take a picture—”

“Tell me,” he interrupted, “when you go somewhere else, okay?” His tone was soft, and all you could do was nod before he let go of your hand. You couldn’t even take a picture, his camera that you borrowed slipping out of your hands every time you thought of his warm hand clasped over yours.

Chanyeol watched as you stood underneath the Eiffel Tower, looking above you at the massive structure, a smile displayed lighting up your features.

“Will you take a picture for me?” You grinned. He nodded, taking the phone from your outstretched hand. And while you turned around he quickly took a few pictures on your phone, before he realized that he hadn’t taken any pictures himself. His camera was over on the bench so he patted his pocket to get his phone, as he always kept it there but froze not feeling the familiar weight.

His eyes widened before he strides towards his bag and hurriedly checked all the pockets. You’d walked over to him now, silently taking your phone from where he placed it on the bench next to him.

He groaned, after taking everything out of his bag and still not finding his phone. He couldn’t possibly have…lost it, could he? This is something big even for how forgetful Chanyeol is. He really went and lost his phone abroad. He looked at you and took in your concerned eyes, and then,

“I think I lost my phone.”

Maybe it was after ten minutes, twenty minutes—Chanyeol wasn’t sure because he didn’t have his fucking phone, but you already left his side after he broke the news—when you came back, silently taking a seat next to him.

“So I asked the tour guide,” you announced garnering Chanyeol’s attention as he looked at your calm stature. “And he said he’ll take us to the nearest police station.” You turned to him. “Can you try to retrace your steps, to see where you could’ve dropped it?”

He looked at you. He really looked at you as you blinked back at him, patiently waiting for him to answer. Over the days, over the days he spent with you, he’s realized something. You’ve been nothing short of amazing to him.

You were thoughtful, patient, you never got mad at him (except for whenever he gets an especially painful bruise--you have low pain tolerance, he’s noticed), and you laughed at the stupid jokes he tells you. He realized that he wanted nothing more than to keep that laugh on your face for the rest of your life. He wanted to make you laugh for the rest of your life. His heart stopped when he realized this isn’t what he wanted. When he had told you that he didn’t want a soulmate, he saw that loving glint in your eyes leave. He saw when you find yourself staring at him before looking away when he noticed. He saw how you restricted yourself, hesitating just the tiniest bit before doing something that friends don’t do. And over the days he realized. He was such a stupid idiot. And a hypocrite. And an asshole. He realized that he wanted you to be his soulmate. Even after just a few days ago he stated the exact opposite. Chanyeol groaned inwardly. He really fucked up, didn’t he?

You were for sure going to blow up in his face when he told you. You were shy sure, but he saw that you speak your mind when things get out of hand. Oh God, what if you say you didn’t want him as a soulmate anymore? Then what would he do?

“I think in the last taxi we were in.” He muttered as he saw you in another light, almost as if a halo was shining a top of you.

“Oh! Then if you didn’t put it on silent, maybe the driver will pick up!” You exclaimed, hurriedly pulling your phone out. “I’m so dumb, I should’ve done this earlier.” You tapped for a few seconds on your phone before pressing it to your ear.

You frowned when no one picked up.

After the third time, your face lit up, as you spoke an excited ‘hello!’ and that’s when Chanyeol realized, inwardly smiling to himself.

He liked you. Maybe even loved you.

But he was stupid. So maybe he couldn’t.

“I told you we’d find it!” You squealed, skipping to Chanyeol before handing him his phone with the familiar phone case. He took it from your hand, welcoming the sparks that followed when your hand brushed his.

“I have no idea what I’d do without you.” He remarked.

“I know right,” you joked, a knowing smile present on your face. Chanyeol noticed; you smile a lot.

Maybe he’d begun noticing all the tiny things in the few hours passed that he realized his feelings for you. His true feelings. His true feelings that he couldn’t fucking confess because he messed up, big. (Even his conscience reminded him and Chanyeol wanted nothing more than for his conscience to fuck off.)

“Y/N,” he started, not knowing if he should say it now, but your attention fluttered back to the tour guide who was waving the both of you over. Chanyeol deflated as you turned your back on him before he made himself a silent promise. He wasn’t sure if you hated him yet, but he wanted you to know how he felt. He wanted to know if you still wanted him as a soulmate, even after everything he’s done to you. No time like the present, right?

The breeze fluttered through Paris, sending shivers up your spine as you leaned against the cold metal railing, gazing over the streets lit up underneath you. The people looked as small as ants from the top of the Eiffel tower.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You enquired, not looking at Chanyeol who sported a similar stance to your own.

You didn’t notice how Chanyeol turned to you, taking how the Parisian lights reflected in your eyes. “It is,” he replied (not totally taking a line out of a fairy tale and referencing to you, not the city below him).

You looked at him now, feeling his eyes boring into your side profile.

“Y/N, do you hate me?”

Your eyes widened at his statement. You know you’ve said that you thought he hates you, but you? Hating him? If anyone hated him you’d wonder if they were in their right minds. How can one actually hate him? First of all, his looks, you’re surprised that no agency has scouted him to be a model or actor. His voice, that stupid deep timbre that sent butterflies through your body whenever he started humming along to the radio, silently singing all the words. His personality was practically close to angelic. If you thought about it, to everyone else he was nice, so nice sometimes he stood up against Kim Jongdae—you realized it that one time you were crossing the street and he went to help out an elderly woman who was struggling with her groceries. He was just a lovable, extremely nice, idiotic giant, with big eyes and adorable pointy ears. How could you not like him?

“Th—that’s absurd,” you splutter, heat rushing to your cheeks, at how he’s staring at you, and you’re afraid that he could’ve heard your earlier thoughts, even though that’s impossible.

“So you don’t?” He continued. You nodded before he smiled a small smile to himself. “Good,” he confessed. And then, “that means you like me, right?”

The question was so out of the blue, and at the same time not, that you ended up choking on your own spit. He helped you recover, his warm hand sending goosebumps through your jacket as he rubbed your back. You narrowed your eyes at him seeing how he was so close to laughing at your hacking.

“How can you just say that so carelessly?” You declared, huffing, not looking at him, as he so was doing to you.

“You do, don’t you?” He grinned, taking your silence and avoidance of his question as an answer. “Because I think I like you.”

When you turn and meet his eyes, a series of events that you saw as the future flashed through your eyes. Chanyeol getting down on one knee, a box in his hand. The two of you sharing a kiss sealing your love for each other. A child with pointy ears and wide, doe eyes that you knew so well running around a house with chocolate smeared over his face.

And you realize that that is the future you have with him.

“I—” you falter. Mouth opening and closing. “You saw that too, didn’t you.”

His smile is beaming as he answers. “I did.” And he takes a step closer to you, closing the distance that was previously between the two of you.

And then he’s leaning closer, and closer, and closer, before pressing his lips to yours in the most gentle way you thought possible. Your lips move against his in a fluidity that you've never noticed before. You fit perfectly against him—as if you were made for each other. His lips are velvet as they move against your own, his hands hot as they pull you closer, placed on your hips.

A smile breaks through your lips as you kiss him, arms coming around his shoulders, fingers playing with the baby hairs on his nape and only when the two of you part, you see the brightest of smiles displayed on his face like a piece of art that you wouldn’t mind staring at for the rest of your life.

He leans down to swoop you off your feet again when you pull back, confusion laced over your features. “Wait a second. You said you didn’t want a soulmate, right? If you like me—your soulmate—how is that supposed to work—”

He cuts you off with a chaste kiss that has your head spinning. He chuckles. “I don’t not want a soulmate anymore, stupid.” Another kiss. “As long as its you.” And another. You kiss for a few more minutes, thankful that no one else was on the top of the Eiffel tower that you had forced Chanyeol to climb up with you. They weren’t going to risk the hellish flight of stairs to get to the amazing view.

After a while, he pulls away again. You’re glad as you take a breath. This man takes your breath away, literally. “You didn’t answer my question,” he breathes against your lips.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “What question?”

“Do you like me?” He questions, forehead resting against yours.

“I like you, Chanyeol,” you whisper.

He cradles your face and you see the spark of emotion glazing his eyes before he crashes his lips on yours once more.

It’s love.

As you enter the familiar Seoul Airport hand in hand with Chanyeol, you spot Baekhyun, your best friend, waiting for you, sporting a shit-eating grin.

He welcomes you with a hug before leaning down to whisper something only you could hear, “Where’s my thank you?”

1K notes · View notes

ladylillianrose · 5 years ago

Text

You’ve Got SPRQS a Max Richman/Zoey Clarke Fanfiction

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has been reading and commenting!

The song this time is "I'm Into Something Good" by Herman's Hermits, Listen to it here https://youtu.be/MDUCOwp1p60

Thanks to aubreyrichman for her beta work (if you haven't checked out our collaboration "Extraordinarily Star-Crossed, you should do it now!)

Someday I shall return the characters to Austin Winsberg, but today is not that day!

Summary: Movie night and Zoey makes a decision

Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Zoey raced around her apartment trying to make sure everything was ready before Max arrived.

Her watch buzzed, there was a new message from Billy.

“I’ve got another song for you....if you want to hear it.”

If she wanted to hear it? The last one had inspired dreams of his talented fingers running teasingly along her body, causing her to wake up flushed and aroused. She hadn’t told him that...yet...

“Of course I want to hear it! Though I may go MIA for a bit, I have a friend coming over soon.”

“Oh well, I don’t want to disrupt your night…”

Zoey groaned out loud, was he trying to torture her?

“If you don’t send it to me now, I’ll be too focused on anticipating it that I won’t be able to enjoy my night.”

“As m’ lady commands ;)”

She glanced at the time, she had fifteen minutes before Max said he’d be there, plenty of time to give it a listen. She pressed play with a grin on her face, the song was much more playful and upbeat than the previous one. Just like last time, he had thoughtfully included the lyrics.

Woke up this mornin' feelin' fine

There's somethin' special on my mind

Last night I met a new girl in the neighbourhood, whoa yeah

Somethin' tells me I'm into something good (Somethin' tells me I'm into somethin')

She's the kind of girl who's not too shy

And I can tell I'm her kind of guy

She danced close to me like I hoped she would (she danced with me like I hoped she would)

Somethin' tells me I'm into something good (Somethin' tells me I'm into somethin')

We only danced for a minute or two

But then she stuck close to me the whole night through

Can I be fallin' in love

She's everything I've been dreamin' of

I walked her home and she held my hand

I knew it couldn't be just a one-night stand

So I asked to see her next week and she told me I could

(I asked to see her and she told me I could)

Somethin' tells me I'm into something good (somethin' tells me I'm into somethin')

(Somethin' tells me I'm into somethin', ahhh)

I walked her home and she held my hand

I knew it couldn't be just a one-night stand

So I asked to see her next week and she told me I could

(I asked to see her and she told me I could)

Somethin' tells me I'm into something good (somethin' tells me I'm into somethin')

To something good, oh yeah, something good (somethin' tells me I'm into somethin')

To something good, something good, something good

Zoey had a giddy smile on her face as the song finished. She wondered if he was saying something about having "met" her with his song choice. She wanted to ask him, but felt nervous, she was enjoying their conversations and she didn't want to push him too much.

She could hear voices in her head that sounded suspiciously like Joan and Mo.

"What are you waiting for. child? It is a dating app!" Mo's voice said.

"This is meant for you to put yourself out there, take risks! Not shyly glance at one another across the table, or coyly pass notes in study hall!" Joan's voice scolded.

"Ooh, see, I knew I liked you," Mo's voice told Joan.

There was a knock at the door.

"I hear you loud and clear! If I do it, will you leave me alone?!"

Zoey opened the door to reveal Max, looking at her very confused.

"Umm, Zo? We can reschedule if this is a bad time."

"What? No of course not…oh that…." She laughed nervously, gesturing for him to come in. "I was just yelling at David on the phone. He was asking me to take Peter to a playdate they arranged for him this weekend because both he and Emily have to put in some overtime at work…." It was only a half-lie, David had texted her earlier in the day asking if she would, she just hadn't gotten back to him.

"Oh well, I can go with you if you want. I know the whole small talk with people isn't really your thing." Max offered as he got the movie ready for them.

Zoey felt her stomach flutter at his offer. "Really? You'd come along with me on a boring infant playdate, and talk to people you don’t know, just so I don’t have to?"

Max grinned at her, "Well yeah, what are friends for?"

Right...friends, just friends….best friends even….nothing more. She realized that brain Mo and brain Joan were right, she was done waiting.

"That would be great! My very own knight in shining armor," she teased, smiling at him.

"You and I both know I prefer the casting classes," he quipped.

Zoey giggled and headed to the kitchen to make the popcorn.

She took a deep breath and typed out a message and hit send before she could chicken out.

"I think we're definitely into something good here."

Max couldn’t wipe the grin off his face after he got that message from Red. Even though they had only just started messaging one another, there was undeniably a connection between the two of them. Something between them just clicked, it reminded him of how he and Zoey had been when they first met.

“I would be lying if I said I hadn’t intentionally picked that song.”

Zoey came in carrying their popcorn and saw him smiling at his watch. “What’s got you so happy?”

Max looked up quickly, “Nothing, just checking on some stuff for my project.”

Zoey furrowed her brow, she could tell he was hiding something, but since she was hiding something too she let him off the hook. “You get the movie set up?”

He nodded, they settled on the couch and he hit play.

Max was surprisingly less talkative than normal during the movie. Sure he still pointed out that the blonde guy was the wrestler Rowdy Roddy Piper, and that Zoey would at least recognize the dulcet tones of Keith David if nothing else. Zoey nodded appropriately in response, and while both of them attempted to pay attention to the movie they were both too distracted thinking of their online connection.

The credits rolled and they sat there in silence, neither of them willing to admit they hadn’t really been watching the movie.

The light flicked on and revealed Mo standing there grinning at them.

He gestured for Zoey to move over and sat between the two of them.

"If it isn't two of my favorite fashion-challenged people."

Zoey shook her head, refusing to rise to the bait. "What's up Mo?"

"I just wanted to hear how things went with your musician last night. Were there thoughts of his fingers?" he waggled his eyebrows at her.

Zoey shook her head, frantically gesturing to Mo to stop.

"What?" Max asked confused, looking at Zoey.

"Oh yes," Mo turned to Max to explain. "I was telling Zo-Bear yesterday, musicians have very talented hands and fingers….actually, do you play any instruments, Max? Your hands…"

"OKAY!" Zoey stood up quickly, cutting Mo off. "Can I talk to you, please?" She quickly headed to the kitchen without waiting for an answer.

Mo raised his eyebrows at Max who shrugged his shoulders in response.

"Max doesn't know anything about SPRQS," Zoey hissed as Mo entered the kitchen.

Mo just looked at her, confused.

"I was just keeping it quiet for now, just in case things don't work out," she admitted.

Mo shook his head, "So, you'll tell me, But not your best friend?"

"I don't know, I just feel a little embarrassed. I can't explain it." She hadn't admitted it to Mo but she'd started falling for Max about a month ago. She'd barely admitted it to herself. But, Max had made it clear that they were friends and just that. So, she was moving on, and right now she wanted as few people to know as possible. She'd tell Max eventually….

"Whatever, although now we have to think of something to tell Max."

Zoey sighed, "I'll figure something out."

Mo took his leave, gesturing to Zoey that they were not done talking about this.

Zoey sat back down with a sigh.

"Do I even want to know what that was about?" Max asked.

Zoey shook her head. "Mo was teaching me more about music so he sent me some videos to watch. Mostly some famous piano guy who he thinks is hot."

Max nodded, "Oh, okay. Random."

She chuckled, "You're telling me."

"I should probably head home. Ollie will be wondering where I've disappeared to," Max said, rising from the couch.

"Sweet Ollie. I feel like I haven't seen him in forever," Zoey smiled.

"You'll have to come by soon, then. I know he misses you, you're the only one who falls for all his tricks and gives him treats no matter what." Max laughed and shook his head.

"I can't help it, he just looks at me with those big brown eyes and I just melt," Zoey admitted.

"He knows who the pushover is."

"Oh, because you certainly have never spoiled him."

"I would never," Max gasped dramatically.

Zoey laughed and smacked his arm playfully. "You and I both know that's not true. You spoil him worse than I do!"

Max grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "Like you said, he looks at you and you melt."

Max grabbed the movie and headed to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Zoey nodded and gave Max a hug goodbye, her arms lingering slightly as she lost herself in the feeling.

She pulled back reluctantly and closed the door behind him.

She sighed and looked down at her watch. She decided to really put herself out there, and sent a message to Billy.

"How do you feel about us meeting in person?"

#Clarkeman #clarkeman fanfiction #Max x Zoey #Zoey x Max #max x zoey fanfiction #zoey x max fanfiction #zoey's extraordinary playlist #Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist Fanfiction #max richman #zoey clarke #zoeys playlist #ZoeysPlaylist #Zoeysplaylist fanfiction #Zoeys playlist fanfiction #fanfiction #You've Got SPRQS

6 notes · View notes

ducktracy · 5 years ago

Text

bob clampett’s daffy

i hated daffy as a kid. i thought he was annoying, unnecessarily rude, bitter, and mean. and he was. and now i’m going to preach to you about why he’s my favorite character in the franchise, and how bob clampett totally changed my view of him.

although tex avery was the father of daffy, bob clampett was the first director other than tex to use daffy in a cartoon. clampett’s 1938 “what price porky” pins daffy as the dictator and leader of a group of ducks who are currently in a war with a group of chickens, with porky in the crossfire.

daffy’s head is a perfect circle with no feathers, and he’s considerably taller than other appearances. he’s a bit more rotund too, making him seem more malleable and easier to manipulate with gags. notice how his eyes seem like they could continue to wrap around his head. we start to see what will stay in his design for years to come and what will go, such as lacking the trademark white ring around his neck. what he DOES have, however, and for the first time, is his trademark lisp.

his next appearance in a clampett cartoon is “porky and daffy” (1938). this is truly where his daffiness is allowed to shine. porky enters daffy in a boxing match against a burly, undefeated chicken. the match includes (but is not limited to) daffy acting like a lion tamer, riding an invisible bicycle, and hiding in the beak of a pelican. the short is really just daffy being daffy, but we get to see how he interacts with porky.

his eyes are much taller and skinnier than they were in “what price porky”, and his head and body have been slimmed down. the ring around his neck is jagged, something that would make a few appearances in his design for the next 2 years.

in around 1939-1940 daffy was drawn with a light colored “mask” around his eyes and the ring around his neck a zig zag. there’s a definite difference between these two pictures (left: wise quacks, 1939, right: porky’s last stand, 1940). on the left daffy’s eyes are rather skinny and tall like the rest of him, the mask around his face taking up half of his face, whereas on the right daffy’s eyes are shorter and wider (again, like the rest of him) with the mask taking up less room. interestingly to note, porky’s last stand would be the last short to feature daffy looking like that, aside from a few advertisements in the early 40s.

both continue to prominently feature daffy as unhinged, off the handle, giddy, and, well, daffy. he was truly the epitome of ignorance was bliss. he was oblivious and didn’t have a clue, but he didn’t care. he had such an energy to him that’s so addicting to watch. of course, nothing but screaming HOO HOO! CAN get old over time, but the way clampett just makes him so enthusiastic and such a firm believer in whatever he’s currently preoccupied with is contagious. it’s hard to be in a bad mood when daffy’s jumping around all corners of the screen screaming in your ears.

clampett’s “the henpecked duck” (1941) is really the first short that would dictate how daffy would look in the rest of clampett’s cartoons. his eye mask is gone and the ring around his neck isn’t jagged, and he’s considerably taller and skinnier. his head is still rather short and round, but he’s really starting to take shape.

daffy’s personality also changes in this short. previously he was just a prop, truly a daffy duck. but now “the henpecked duck” opens with daffy and his wife (yes, he has a wife in this short) in the courthouse in front of a judge porky, with his wife angrily demanding to get a divorce. daffy is depressed and devoid of energy, not for a quick, breathless joke, but for suspense. in his previous shorts he’d shown bouts of anxiety or anger, but typically they blew through for a punchline. now something serious is going on, he’s actually depressed, he’s something other than wacky.

the majority of the short is a flashback. daffy is supposed to be laying on an egg as his angry wife is out for the day. because he IS daffy, boredom strikes and he eventually does magic tricks with said egg, making it disappear, reappear, disappear, reappear, disappear..... disappear. the egg is gone and he freaks out, and suddenly we’re back in the courtroom. all eyes are on daffy as he does one last cautious “alakazam....” and the egg is back in his hand and his marriage is saved.

it’s a strange and goofy premise, sure, but it’s surprisingly riveting, primarily because this is when we really get to see daffy express some real emotion. he’s a very versatile character. clampett prioritizes his daffiness, but that’s not to say he’s purely daffy. he can be angry, anxious, upset... he expresses such a wide range of emotions which is what i love about clampett’s characterization. he’s so versatile and UNPREDICTABLE. you don’t know what you’re going to get. it’s an element of surprise. it’s formulaic, but at the same time it isn’t at all.

two years later in 1943 we have “the wise quacking duck” with daffy taking on a role he hadn’t assumed for quite awhile: prey. in it, we have “mr. meek”, a dopey, meek, balding man who tries to appease his “sweetiepuss”’s hunger by serving her duck for dinner. daffy, of course, is said duck.

the short is just daffy teasing mr meek (quite literally, there’s an infamous scene where he does an actual strip tease) by throwing eggs at him, pretending his head was cut off, hitting him in the face with pies and coffee creamer, etc. it’s another “daffy daffy” short, but it’s so energetic and fun. there’s a method to daffy’s madness, and at the same time there isn’t one at all. you know he’s going to do some crazy stuff, but you don’t know what exactly he’s going to do.

daffy’s appearance is pretty solid from here on out. skinny, oval shaped head, long, slender bill, pear shaped body. i really like this design to him, he still looks like a duck. chuck jones draws a great daffy, but i just like clampett’s daffy more. it might be the bill. clampett’s cartoons make a point of daffy’s lisp, making him spew spit everywhere and his tongue has a life of its own. it’s great. they really took his physical qualities and had as much fun with it as they could.

in 1945 we have “draftee daffy”, about daffy getting drafted into the war and frantically trying to evade it. this is a personal favorite of mine, the energy is boundless. in a matter of seconds daffy is happily marching around, singing about how he was drafted, and all of the sudden he screams and breaks down into sobs. what an unpredictable mess! that’s why i love clampett’s daffy. he’s messy. a matter of seconds and facial expressions later he can act like a totally different person (or duck). again, he’s a firm believer in whatever scheme he’s riding the high on currently, whether that’s one-upping bugs, seducing his way out of becoming a roast duck dinner, or trying to dodge the draft. not much to note on his design here.

you knew this was coming! 1946 gives us “book revue” in a slew of continuous great shorts just before clampett left WB. i love how ridiculous daffy is in this. he’s not even in half of the cartoon, maybe topping out at about 3 minutes max, but he’s what makes it so memorable.

the short is another “books come to life” cartoon, a theme that had been popular in the late 30s and early 40s (another clampett cartoon starring daffy and porky was 1941’s “a coy decoy”, pertaining to this theme). as various book title pun related characters are playing a rousing rendition of frank sinatra’s “it had to be you”, daffy pops out of nowhere and throws on a zoot suit, wig, bad russian accent and danny kaye impression, and suddenly has disconcerting teeth. he screams at everyone to shut up, demonstrates his poor vocabulary by talking about sitting on balalaikas (a guitar like instrument), and sings “carolina in the morning” while rolling every “r” possible.

basically he encounters little red riding hood, warns her about the big bad wolf (by scatting), and the cartoon ends with the wolf chasing daffy around until the cops book him and the wolf, wooed by frank sinatra, passes out and literally goes to hell and tells everyone to stop celebrating his departure.

daffy’s just so good in this. he’s so in character and out of character. yes, i could see bugs putting on the same costume and same shtick, but it would be a bit predictable. funny? absolutely, but bugs is known for his costumes. what costumes has daffy ever worn? his wardrobe isn’t nearly as expansive as bugs’. it’s a nice surprise. just how out of character he is proves how in character he is.

“baby bottleneck” (1946) is next, one of my all time favorite cartoons. porky and daffy make such a great pair, they’re so different. daffy’s just completely off the handle in this one. i’ve rambled about this one a lot and repeated myself many times, so i won’t go too in depth here, but daffy’s unpredictability really carries the cartoon. he says he’ll sit on the egg. he doesn’t. he fights porky in a battle of strength and (lack of) wits. you just don’t know where the cartoon is going to head next, it’s packed with gags and so much action, i definitely recommend it. the jokes are nonstop.

and finally, saving the best for last... 1946’s “the great piggy bank robbery”, possibly my favorite clampett cartoon (just above baby bottleneck by a frog’s hair) and really one of my all time favorite cartoons in general.

the short starts off with daffy pacing around his mailbox impatiently (to the tune of raymond scott’s “powerhouse”—maybe that’s why i like this short and baby bottleneck so much, anything that uses powerhouse is automatically great to me) until exploding “WHY DON’T HE GET HERE!”

his attitude changes from pissed off to eager as the mailman arrives, slowly puts whatever daffy’s expecting in the mailbox, and walks away. we never see the mailman’s face or what it is that daffy is expecting, furthering the suspense. daffy tears through his mail and grabs what he was looking for and dashes over hill and dale before hugging his package, a comic book, and throwing himself upon it.

it’s a dick tracy comic, to which daffy declares “i LOOOOVE that man!”. what’s funny is that after this short i was watching frank tashlin’s “porky pig’s feat” (1943) and the antagonist gets his face pushed in by daffy, to which daffy looks at the camera and says “look, a dick tracy villain! pruneface!”. foreshadowing? 🤔🤔🤔

daffy reads to us the comic in excruciating detail (or lack thereof. he’s just manically sputtering out words. the change in emotion is what makes it so funny, from celebration to apprehension to despair, all in a matter of seconds). he celebrates the victory of dick tracy, saying how he’d love to punch those goony criminals, before punching HIMSELF in the face.

this is how we meet duck twacy, on the hunt for a case of stolen piggy banks (“it’s a piggy bank crime wave!”). daffy finds the case juvenile and a waste of his time... before he finds that his OWN piggy bank was stolen. he goes on a hunt for the culprit, kicking sherlock holmes off the streets, riding a trolley driven by porky for about 5 inches before arriving to the gangster’s hideout. he encounters a barrage of weirdly awesome villains, complete with a manic, breathless, and spitty narration of who is who. even though he thinks he’s about to be killed, you can tell that he’s totally eating up the fact that he’s in dick tracy’s shoes, that he recognizes all of these villains. after shooting all of the villains, he finds his own piggy bank and caresses it and kisses it. we’re now back in the real world where he’s kissing a barnyard pig who kisses him back and bashfully declares “i just love that duck!”, with daffy HOO HOO!ing off screen.

i should add, aside from the pig saying “i just love that duck!” and one of the villains grunting “guess who?”, no one in this short talks except daffy. and that’s why i love it so much. he carries the WHOLE thing. it’s all him and him alone. no one for him to upstage, no plans for him to ruin, we get to see his own motivations and his own personality.

i could ramble on forever about bob clampett and daffy, but i’ll try to summarize it the best i can here.

i love bob clampett’s daffy because he’s predictably unpredictable. his zaniness is prioritized above all else, but he’s able to feel emotions other than daffiness. he CAN be cynical, he CAN be depressed, he CAN be anxious, he CAN be happy... his emotions feel very believable, as zany as he is. you can go into each bob clampett daffy short knowing that he’s probably going to do something wild, but that’s it. you don’t know what he’s going to do. clampett keeps you on your toes with how he portrays daffy. daffy is TRULY unhinged in the best way possible.

thank you for reading! i’m sure i repeated myself and even contradicted myself dozens of times, but i love daffy and i love bob clampett. the best way to see for yourself how great he is is to watch some of these shorts. (i recommend the great piggy bank robbery, baby bottleneck, book revue, draftee daffy and the wise quacking duck, and the daffy doc and the henpecked duck are some really entertaining black and white shorts)

#analysis #long post #lt

48 notes · View notes

ohbillyboi · 5 years ago

Text

Lost Boy (Post-S3 Billy Hargrove Redemption) - Ch 1

Summary: Post S3. Billy's life has completely fallen apart after the events of July '85. He's started drinking, lost his job, and gotten kicked out of the Hargrove/Mayfield house. Luckily for him, word gets around in Hawkins, and Chief Jim Hopper has a more generous heart than advertised.

A story in which Billy faces his demons with the help of a police chief -- and the fourteen-year-old girl he fears most in the world.

Notes: I just really wish Billy had lived, okay?

Two other key differences from the show:

- Hopper survived the Battle of Starcourt, and he and Joyce are dating. - The Byers and Eleven are still in Hawkins.

This fic is largely unbeta'd, though I've worked hard to make it as readable as possible.

Index:

Chapter 1: Hopper Makes An Offer Chapter 2: The Cabin Where My Mind Was Flayed Chapter 3: He’s Your Brother

Chapter 1: Hopper Makes An Offer

“Rise and shine, Mr. Hargrove!”

Bang, bang, bang!

Billy jerked awake in the driver’s seat, hitting his browbone on the door. “Ow, fuck!” Holding a hand to his head - which was already aching from the night before - he squinted out the car window into the morning sun. There, framed perfectly by the too-bright light, stood the tall, imposing silhouette of a man in a sheriff’s hat.

Chief Hopper, looking none too pleased.

Billy scoffed. “Fuckin’ pig. Fuck off.” He turned over to go back to sleep.

“You know the rules, Mr. Hargrove, no sleeping off a hangover in a public park."

Bang, bang, bang! went Hopper’s flashlight, hitting the roof of the car. Billy's eyes flew open, and he shot upright, twisting to yell out the window, “Hey! If you dent my car--”

“Yeah, yeah, you'll sue me. Now get out of here before I bring you in for public intoxication.”

“What, is that supposed to scare me?” Billy laughed out loud. Closing his eyes, he settled comfortably in his seat. “You don't scare me.”

A beat passed. The chief muttered something under his breath. Billy smirked, about to say, What was that, chief? Couldn't hear you, but he never got the chance. The door flew open, and a pair of hands seized his shirt.

“Wha-- hey, get the hell off me!” he shouted, only to be dragged out of his seat and brought face-to-face with the chief. For the first time, Billy saw his face clearly, and what he saw sent a jolt of fear through him.

The man had a hard look in his eyes. Not the kind Billy’s dad got - a hot, murderous look that could explode at any second - but hard enough all the same. He breathed loudly through his nose, glaring at Billy with an unnerving steadiness.

“You wanna test me?” he said. “Go ahead. See how far it gets you.”

Fear gave way to contempt. Billy spat in his face.

The chief blinked in shock. He was actually surprised by Billy's defiance, a fact Billy found darkly satisfying.

Then his expression hardened. Grabbing Billy’s collar, he slammed him into the side of the car. The impact knocked Billy's teeth together in an all-too-familiar clack, and he laughed - a wild cackle that came from the back of his throat.

He couldn't stop laughing after that. He laughed as Hopper slapped a pair of handcuffs on him, and he laughed all the way to Hopper’s truck. When Hopper shoved him into the passenger seat and shut the door, Billy whooped so loud the cabin rang with it.

Oh, he hadn't been in a cop car in a long time.

This was going to be an interesting day - a real peachy, write-home-to-mama kind of day.

Billy kept his eyes closed, his head on the headrest, and a smirk on his face the entire ride. Sure, let the almighty Chief Hopper think this was a punishment. Let him think Billy was scared of a little jail cell. The joke was on him, because at least Billy would have a place to sleep.

The events of the past few weeks unrolled behind Billy's eyes like a slow-mo video reel.

The horrors of Starcourt. Endless bottles of booze. The angry face of his boss at the community pool as he said, “You're fired.” The even angrier face of his dad calling him a “no-good son of a whore.” Max screaming as Billy rammed his dad’s head into the wall. Slamming doors. All his worldly possessions (the ones he cared about, anyway) sitting in the passenger seat of his car. Sleeping under the stars. Susan's face when she opened the door mid-morning, letting him in for breakfast and a shower. Max shoving dollar bills into his hands, saying, “Here. You need it more than me.” Max hugging him, her red hair tucked beneath his chin.

Moisture gathered under Billy's eyelids. He bit his lip savagely until it dried.

Just then, the truck crunched onto gravel and stopped with a screech. Opening his eyes, Billy looked around to find they'd pulled into a private drive in the middle of the woods. Suddenly he felt stone-cold sober.

“What the hell is this?” He glanced at Hopper. “Where did you take me?”

Hopper turned off the engine. Hand still on the wheel, he stared out the windshield.

“I know what's going on, Billy,” he said. “I know about your dad, the booze - everything. Max told El.”

Billy rolled his eyes skyward, and his head fell back against the headrest. Of fuckin’ course.

“I'm fine,” he muttered.

“Like hell you are. A kid your age shouldn't be out on the street.”

“I'm not a fuckin’ kid.”

“You are if I say you are,” the chief retorted, voice raised. “Now shut up and listen. I'm feeling mighty generous after what you did for my daughter. And believe me when I say she is the only reason I'm here. Because let me make one thing clear.”

He leaned toward Billy, making the leather seat creak. Billy looked at him with wide eyes.

“I...don't...like you,” Hopper enunciated. He started counting on his fingers. “I don't like your shitty haircut.” One finger. “I don't like your shitty attitude.” Two fingers. “I don't like your shitty face.” Three fingers. “But you saved my daughter's life, and I can never repay you for that.

“So here's my proposition.” He straightened up. “You come work for me, help me patch up my cabin. I give you some money and a couch to sleep on. We continue this arrangement until you're back on your feet. On one condition.”

The chief lifted a finger in the air.

“You lay off the booze.”

Billy blinked. Thoughts and emotions roiled inside him. The chief was... giving him a job? As long as he could stay sober?

Fuck. That would be a tough gig. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone a day without a beer. Lately it'd been a whole six-pack every morning and night, with who knew how many in between. To go from that to nothing would be…

Fuck.

Billy licked his lower lip. "And if I say no?"

“Then I haul your ass to jail for assaulting a police officer, and you continue your downward spiral into a life of crime.” Hopper smiled. "But hey, if you want it that bad, don't let me stop you.”

Silence fell over the cab. Billy chewed the inside of his mouth and flexed his wrists within the cuffs. God, these things were uncomfortable. An image flashed through his mind: him wearing an orange prison suit, and cuffs on his wrists all day, every day. Though he knew that wouldn't happen - even death row inmates didn't wear cuffs all the time - it made his stomach lurch.

He sighed heavily. Fuck this fuckin' shit.

“When do I start?” he grumbled.

“Good choice!” Hopper boomed, clapping Billy on the back. “You'll start today.”

As Hopper turned the key in the ignition, bringing the truck to life with a rumbling vroom, Billy sank into his seat. Somehow this felt like his lowest point. Not sleeping off a hangover in his car - this. Throwing himself on the good graces of Chief Jim Hopper...and sleeping on his fucking couch.

“Shit,” he muttered. As they peeled out of the drive, he looked out the window, watching the trees go by with hooded eyes.

This was shaping up to be another long, long year in Hawkins.

Next Chapter--->

#Billy Hargrove #Billy Deserved Better #billy hargrove redemption #billy hargrove fic #stranger things fic

15 notes · View notes

venus-says · 5 years ago

Text

Futari wa Pretty Cure Max Heart Episodes 25-47

Light and Darkness are more alike than you think.

I know, I broke the promise I made last time, but as you can guess things didn't work the way I wanted so I couldn't put this out earlier. But that doesn't really matter that much because I'm here, and this finale was amazing, and I'm more in love with this series than I ever was and this is what matters!

After this first paragraph is not a surprise if I say that I enjoyed this second half of Max Heart. Writing this post will be a little hard for me without being way too repetitive from what I wrote for the first half because this is a pretty solid season and most of my feeling from the first half got carried away through here. The show kept on an amazing level of quality all the way through and the way they slowly started to escalate things to culminate in such a high point at the finale didn't leave that much room for a very low or very high point that needed to be discussed on a certain way that I already haven't touched on the first post.

I have barely anything negative to say about this part, but I did have a few nitpicks here and there that don't necessarily ruin my experience or anything but that were things that got me thinking about in the afterward that I feel like I need to discuss about briefly just so these thoughts can leave my head.

My first problem and the only one that is exclusive to this part is, surprise surprise, Lulun. I feel like Polun gets a bad reputation for having a somewhat rough start in season 1, but trust me, Polun is amazing, it's Lulun who -is the problem. And Lulun is a problem for two major reasons, the first one is that she's kinda useless, like, yes the show gives her a purpose but it's not something that could've been done for Polun, for example. I feel like if Lulun was written out with Polun inheriting her powers very few little of the show would change, Polun would lose those episodes where he learns about siblings love but then those wouldn't be necessary since he wouldn't have a sister and they could use that time to work with something else for him. And the other reason why she ends up becoming a problem is the fact that, different from her brother, she didn't get any development, she ended the show more or less the same as how she was introduced so there's very little to remember about it that isn't her crying and clinginess.

My next two points are kinda intertwined and they aren't specifically related to this portion of the story but for the season as a whole. I got a problem with the Heartiel and with how they just appeared whenever the show thought it was the time. The point I made in the first post about liking them remains, but it was really awkward how this was supposed to be a quest but had no quest element to it throughout the whole season but then the final Heartiel appeared because they "filled a condition" like if it was a quest so... I think they could've written them in a better way.

And this ties in with my problem with the villains, they had a similar quest where they had to watch the Boy in the mansion and make him grow, but they didn't have anything to collect and even if they did it wasn't shown to us so it always felt like the villains attack for the most part were just random, arbitrary, and without a purpose. Of course, after a certain point this wasn't more the case, in fact, after Hikari and the Boy meets for the first time Viblis start to get very overprotective of the kid so she's always ready to go all out if it meant it could keep the Boy safe, but when it comes to Circulas and Uraganos it felt like just tossups that were there just to fill a quota. Yeah, they created a lot of cool and interesting fights, but they felt very lost in the middle of all of this.

My other problem, that is more like a disappointment rather than anything else is the fact that Nagisa's story with Fujipi didn't reach a proper conclusion I feel. Like yes, they had a lot of times where they bonded on the season, and it was great as a side development for Nagisa, but I feel like this story was finished without an end. If they had made this point of the story happen a little sooner and we had the opportunity to see Nagisa actually showing signs that she's more chill about this situation it would've been a more concrete way to feel like this chapter of the book has ended rather than how it happened and it made me feel like the show ended without giving this plotline a proper conclusion.

My final nitpick is that because this is a show that happened at the same pace almost matching with the same time frame of the original show a lot of plots felt reused. Like in this second half only we had the training camp, we had an episode where they helped on a farm, we had Nagisa's birthday, Fujipi's birthday, Christmas, the school trip, the school play, another story of the girls potentially getting apart, and a few lacrosse games that were part of the tournament season I believe. I know that some of these are inevitable to change, and each one of the episodes was different from its "counterpart" from season one so it's not like a blatant copy and paste, but at certain times it gave me that taste of reheated food, which it's not bad on itself but you can still feel the difference from something fresh.

With that being said, I still enjoyed the hell out of this season. As I said, these were nitpickings I had after I already had finished the show and I sit down to think about it and think about what I'd write for this post, not something that took my entertainment or anything like that.

One thing I think this part has done very well was mixing the understand people's feelings theme they had during the first half with the theme of hope that was present through Season 1 in a way that didn't feel weird and inconceivable and without making it feel like it was forced. I'm not gonna lie, I wish that they had stuck only with the understanding theme, but that's just because I was oversaturated by all the talk about hope in Kamen Rider Wizard and I was in need of something different and not a fault of the show itself.

Something tells me I have talked about them in every post about Futari wa, but I couldn't wrap up this series without mentioning how great Akane and Sanae were in this show. I'm gonna sound repetitive but their presence as mentor figures is so strong, I'm so glad the show didn't just forget about them. Even though I feel like they didn't take all the mileage that they could with Sanae, she provided some gorgeous moments that made me feel warm inside. This season was Akane's moment to shine, having her as Hikari's "caretaker" opened up more opportunities for her to appear and all of her interactions that got the chance to go beyond the trivial stuff always yielded fun and touching moments that gave an extra flair to the season.

Putting plot aside for a little bit, it's impossible to talk about Max Heart without mentioning how great the action is. No joke, in almost all episodes of this second batch I've written on my notes "this was a great fight", I don't know what happened in between Season 1 and Max Heart that made the higherups allow for a bigger budget, but you can see that the money was spent on a very good way, especially after episode 40 or so. Watching the Max Heart fights makes you go "YAS, THIS IS WHAT PRECURE IS ALL ABOUT at least in regards to the fighting magical girl portion of the thing XD"

And I think what crowns such a wonderful and memorable season was the ending, those final 4 episodes were magnificent. They deliver on the plot, they deliver on the action, they deliver the hype, they deliver on the characters, it's just awesome. My vocabulary isn't vast enough to describe everything I felt while watching it, it was just like I was in a trance, watching it, absorbing it, being enchanted by it, and becoming an emotional mess. Like, I knew they wouldn't kill Hikari, this is precure deaths don't happen like that, but I was really apprehensive for her during episode 45, and having her "sacrifice" herself in order to revive the queen broke me, especially because I few minutes before Nagisa and Honoka were already punching me with the feels with those scenes of them looking back at moments where they felt desperate but their family was there to give them hope.

And it was also great to see a tradition being born when they started the fight against the Dark King that had possessed Baldez and the power of the people of the city brought the Sparkle Braceletes back and while the fighting was going on they had that very emotional speech that he wasn't fighting just the Precure, he was fighting EVERYONE. Like, I know at this point this is a staple, but seeing the first one happening, after everything that was build up during those 96 episodes, was just EPIC and very hype.

Rewatching Max Heart was magical and even though it irl it was a more bumpy of a road as I would've expected and wanted, I'm very glad I decided to embark on this crazy journey to rediscover this series and deconstruct a lot of silly and shallow thoughts I've carried for years about this show. This can change as a continue to go down on this franchise and I rewatch other seasons but Max Heart has definitely become one of my favorite precure seasons of all time. Pure gold.

The Splash Star post that was due to come out tomorrow will only be released on Friday because of logistic reasons, but before that, I'll release a post on the Max Heart movies that I thought of including here but 1, this post is already very long; and 2, I didn't feel like it belong with the other things I discussed in this post. In any case, thank you all so much for reading through all of this, it means a lot to me. I'll talk to y'all another time. Bye-bye~

#Futari wa Pretty Cure Max Heart #Futari wa Precure Max Heart #precure

17 notes · View notes

hellyeahomeland · 5 years ago

Photo

“Fucker Shot Me” | Directed by Lesli Linka Glatter, Cinematography by David Klein

Sara: I truly stan G’ulom and his collection of capes. He is the villain in the shadows we need!

Gail: G’ulom’s character arc has really come a long way since Carrie blackmailed him back in episode two. Feels like a year ago.

Sara: Mike is highly annoying. He is so annoying I’m starting to feel sorry that he keeps asking Jenna to do things. Why did he have Jenna tell Saul what happened? Why did they wait until the next day? Why couldn’t he have done all this himself or at least delegated? What I’m saying is Mike is a drama queen.

Gail: It’s interesting that you see Mike as an antagonist to Carrie when he is literally doing the right thing by reporting her. Carrie’s lucky he only went to Saul at first. It gave her the opportunity to get a head start on her mission to find Max. This small meeting of the minds in the middle of a bustling CIA station says a lot too: all of her secrets are about to be laid bare.

Gail: This surveillance shot was when I realized that Yevgeny is intentionally feeding into the suspicions around her. His government must know and approve of what he is up to. He might have some affinity for her, but he is definitely on his own mission here.

Sara: Couple’s first photo together.

Sara: Truly the road trip of my dreams! On a more analytical note, almost all the camerawork in these scenes is done outside the car, looking in, with the barrier of the windows between us. This is continuing a motif from earlier episodes that saw Carrie often shot from behind the car window, trapped on the inside. And now she’s “trapped” with Yevgeny.

Gail: I love how the camera shots in this scene give us a feeling of eavesdropping on them. Makes me wonder who else is listening?

Sara: I really loved this shot, with the reflection of the countryside visible. The scenery and remoteness of it all (uh… not to mention them literally being on the run together) really reminded me of Carrie and Brody in “The Star.”

Gail: Yes--and she’s not the one driving this time. Yevgeny is literally and figuratively in the driver’s seat.

Gail: I love that we are getting Carrie’s perspective here. We can’t see or hear what Yevgeny is saying. We are as in the dark as Carrie is when it comes to his true motivations.

Sara: Yevgeny shot from behind again. This continues another motif of Carrie watching him walk away (repeated in the first three episodes of the season), his back turned to her.

Sara: Before I caught on to what was happening, I saw the light blue burqa and thought something was super fishy. This is the same color burqa that Samira Noori had. There was also a woman wearing a blue burqa walking by Haqqani at the end of last week’s episode when Carrie spots him outside the embassy. I feel like this is super ominous and must be intentional…. Right?

Gail: I noticed that too! I love how colorful the market is here too, it reminded me of the donkeys heading up the mountain in the last episode.

Gail: IJLTP.

Sara: Gotta have that parallel! This must be intentional. The positioning of the camera and choreography here is identical to the pilot.

Sara: IJLTP.

Gail: Even in a crowd of people, Carrie is always alone.

Gail: Such a contrast to the colorful market and busy streets nearby.

Sara: This is a really stunning shot and you can feel the emotional weight of these rows and rows of tombstones--all of which Carrie is responsible for.

Sara: I noted this in TCWTW, but they’ve dressed Carrie and Yevgeny similarly here. Notably they’re both in jackets with pockets on both breasts. Also notably, Carrie’s ensemble is in shades of grey, while Yevgeny’s is darker. Also also notably: height difference.

Gail: His constant and consistent nonchalance is such a vibe.

Gail: We are on the outside looking in at their relationship again. So much we don’t know about it, and by “we,” I mean the audience and Carrie.

Sara: This is a cute bookend shot to the final scene of last week’s episode where Yevgeny is staring at Carrie, who stares straight ahead.

Sara: The Jesus light shines on Max!

Gail: Max’s living conditions keep going from bad to worse.

Sara: What the actual hell was this? The speed with which Yevgeny prevented a total and full-blown Carrie freakout was certainly admirable and positively weird as hell.

Gail: Yevgeny sure knew how to calm her down quickly: bends down to eye level, holds her forcefully in place, and even does the sympathetic head tilt. He knows way more about her than “we” can imagine.

Sara: I just picked this shot because was anyone else surprised that Linus is still the Chief of Staff? I thought for sure he would have been transferred to an ~advisory~ role when Keane left but both Beau and now Hayes are keeping him? Let’s all admit that Linus is really the cockroach that creepy doctor in Caracas said Brody was.

Gail: I loved the scale of the empty airplane hanger against the optics Hayes is trying to convey. Empty attempt with an even emptier coffin.

Sara: Don’t sleep on Tasneem! She’s always lurking around every corner and that is why we continue to stan. Also shout out to blog member Angela who remarked on the way they dressed Tasneem in virginal white a few episodes ago, and now this Madonna-esque blue. What does it mean?

Gail: Now Tasneem is looking over her shoulder too.

Gail: The distance between Saul and Bunny/Tasneem speaks volumes.

Sara: The choreography in this scene is really something. I mean… LOL. Could they hate Saul anymore?

Gail: Even though Mike has reported Carrie to the FBI, he still takes her call in private. Interesting.

Sara: Why does Mike have encyclopedias in his sad office?

Sara: This is such a great shot. G’ulom looming in the background, out of focus but still totally in control. Everyone gets an over-the-shoulder shot this year.

Gail: G’ulom in a tie < G’ulom in a cape.

Sara: Yevgeny took the night shift and let Carrie sleep in the back of his car. I repeat: CARRIE SLEPT IN THE BACK OF HIS CAR. I can’t with them.

Gail: I didn’t think she was sleeping, Carrie doesn’t sleep! I thought she was laying low since she’s a fugitive now and was hiding from the drone(s) that she was hoping the CIA would send to check for Max. Ugh, poor Max!

Sara: Dammit, Gail! You’re probably right.... but a full night has passed so she had to have slept, for at least 15 minutes, in his car. Let me have 15 minutes!

Sara: First, I think this shot is totally gorgeous (Jesus light shines on Max again!). Second, I’m not getting too freaked out because remember how totally dumb Jalal is? We don’t have much to worry about, folks.

Gail: Such a gorgeous shot, I agree. Another empty space that illustrates just how alone Max is.

Gail: Another parallel to the end of season three: Carrie calling for an extraction team that isn’t coming.

Sara: And this shot, too. Damn… this episode was visually quite gorgeous, if substance-wise quite dull.

Sara: Total Brody vibes with the cage and also Haqqani’s general air of acceptance here. They wanted us to feel bad for Brody at the end too! Later, again like Brody, Haqqani is surrounded by a crowd of raucous people who want him dead when he’s sentenced to his fate. Although this specific shot with the cell in the center of the courtroom reminded me a lot of those scenes with Hugh Dancy in Hannibal (can’t find a pic, you’re just gonna have to trust me!).

Gail: I agree and really loved this scene.

Sara: I love shot because of how small Saul looks. I don’t mean this in a shady way! It really puts into perspective (literally) how futile his attempts are to save Haqqani and secure the peace deal (again). Saul states at the beginning of the episode that Haqqani and the Taliban control half the country… that necessarily means that half the country would also probably like to see him dead. He’s just one man, one small man, and the sun is setting on him.

Gail: Great insight. The loss of control and chaos surrounding Saul is only growing in scale through this episode, culminating in this fantastic shot.

Sara: I have to laugh. Best facial expression of the century goes to Mr. Linus Roache.

Gail: Wellington is literally biting his lip! Love it and love the villainous John Zabel, menacing beard and all!

Gail: Carrie is very much “in the weeds.”

Sara: Carrie sure is trying hard to be stealthy given she’s tracing the perimeter of a fence that’s more or less see-through. I LOVE YOU, CARRIE.

Gail: Everything happening to Max feels extremely ominous to me.

Sara: It’s official, this show has an eyeglasses complex. Saul and Max are both glasses-wearing people, and I tend to think the scenes where they’re without them (whether in captivity or otherwise), and the scenes where they get them back, suggest a loss of humanity. They’re being stripped down to the barest and most vulnerable forms of themselves.

Sara: This reveal is really very clever and would have been a lot more so if it hadn’t been spoiled in 46 promos.

Gail: I love how Carrie and Yevgeny are off center in this shot, just like Carrie.

Sara: IJLTP. IJLTP.

Sara: And again with this eyes wide, hands on shoulders, controlled and direct response. I would be creeped out if I didn’t think he was doing it out of ~*~LOVE~*~. But seriously, what do you think this is and why is it so effective?

Gail: I think he had a lot of practice. (Ugh)

#homeland #homelandedit #in the director's chair #fucker shot me #*#by: sara #by: gail #lesli linka glatter

4 notes · View notes

idkwhoiamanymorebutwtf · 5 years ago

Text

Psycho Analyzing: Eggs Benifits

While the kids' parenting style showed a bit about them, I think it showed more about their families, really.

For example, Nurf was abusive towards Preston. This was likely due to the obvious abuse from his uncle, who was bad enough for Child Protective Services to be involved. However, with the egg, Nurf was so much less explosive. His mother is in jail. She's violent. But with Nurf? She's as good a mother as any. And of course, his dad wad never around, which amplifies his need to be there for his own son.

Then there's preston. He let Nurf abuse him- not that it was his fault, victim blaming isn't condoned here- but he seemed to be a bit meek and immediately went along with Nurf. This is probably caused by one of two things. Either his own parents were in a similar relationship (which could be why he lives with his grandmother. If his mother left or was killed and if his father was arrested or killed-), which would lead to him picking this behavior up from them, or his parents were never around. His grandmother,,though she is incredible, bless her soul, certainly doesn't strike me as a strong role model. If his parents were NEVER around, Preston likely doesn't know what a stable family structure is like, and a lot of people in those situations do follow whatever they're taught is how a family should look. So when Nurf started shoving him around, Preston would have no reason to think that isn't how parents were meant to act. I think the latter is a stronger possibility, as Preston didn't assume the role of an abused housewife until after Nurf showed abusive behaviors, implying that wasn't something he'd been exposed to before, but that he is vulnerable to anything he's exposed to, meaning his parents have likely been gone from the start. I think his love for theatre may even stem from a psychological connection formed with it directly resulting from a lack of any other role models in his life.

Next let's talk about Ered. She has a very stable home life. Her dad's are "cool", they seem to encourage her passion for extreme sports and the only downside I see is that they may be too loose with her. I mean, I'm not saying that makes them bad parents. It's just that every parent has flaws. As stated in the episode, there isn't really a right way to do any of it, and everyone's going to mess up somewhere. And the shortcomings of her dad's come through in Ered's own parenting. They put too much faith in letting her do her own thing. They sent her to Camp Campbell for her extreme sports camp despite the fact that Cameron is literally a dangerous criminal. However I also think Ered and her dad's have different reasons for being so easygoing (to a fault). Ered is into extreme sports. With that as your hobby, you learn that pain is part of the game, so she was unconcerned when her egg broke because that's how you learn. You learn by messing up. Meanwhile her own dad's seem to leave her to her own devices because, well..they let her get away with too much. They seem to view her as perfect. Ered's allowed to do what she wants by them and is always given positive reinforcement. She apparently had awful grades in school but was still sent to extreme sports camp! In the end, this really solidifies the fact that her dad's are too lenient, which is likely the cause of her behavioral issues with manipulating, using, and insulting other's.

Dolph is distinctly, pointedly, not like his own father. Dolph doesn't want to constrain his egg. He wants the egg to be a free spirit and do whatever he wants to do with his life. This is him going against his father, who thinks his passion for art is lame. Dolph is trying so hard NOT to be like his father. However, Dolph also seems to show a want to live through his own child. He paints on the egg and insists he's going to be "an artist/pro skater!" Which does allow bits of how Dolph himself was raised to shine through in a need for father to live through son, weather Dolph means to push his dreams onto the egg or not. And I do doubt he means to. He genuinely seems to think it's what his kid wants for himself, and that's something a lot of parents do when the project onto their kids, because often they're pushing what they want unintentionally.

Next we have Nerris. She's imitating her parents in a few ways. Now, look. She has good parents. A stable life. She was pushing her goals on her age, but only because it's how she and her father bonded, and she wants to bond with her kid too. Her lecturing of Harrison seemed reminiscent of how her mother seems to scold her father when he steps out of line (note the difference is that Nerris was being spiteful while her mother is normally just a bit exhasperated. Nerris and Harrison's arguing was distinctly different from the interactions between Nerris' parents.) Nerris was trying to be like her parents, very good people to aspire to parent like. Nerris just misinterpreted how to do that.

Harrison is interesting. I think people don't give his parents enough credit. Yeah, they're afraid of him. But it's not like he just does tricks. He made his brother disappear! If I did that my parents would leave me in the fucking woods to fend for myself! But Harrison's sent him to a camp to control his power's and them even bothered to show up for parents day. They care about him, and their fear is absolutely justified. Just going by lines such as "my mom says I'll grow into my looks" and "I can't wait to tell my mother!!" From Harrison, his parents were fine before the whole thing! That being said, though, they don't support him enough. For good reason or not, they don't paint his passion for magic in a good light. Hence why he defended his own egg so fiercely and put so much value in him having fun.

Now let's talk Space Kid. He's an enigma. He was very passive, relenting to whatever Neil wanted for their kid. He clearly has both parents in his life to some extent, seeing as in Parents Day he referred to them in plural, as in, both his parents. I am, though, lead to believe that his mother isn't very prominant in his life. Maybe she's neglectful or doesn't have custody rights over him or maybe She's just too busy. She seems to show up to things sometimes or he wouldn't even think to bring both his parents up..ever. But he also clings to Gwen as a mother figure of sorts and asked Muriel in Camp Corp if she was their "new mom." Of course, we can only speculate on his parents. Maybe his mother is a business woman too busy for him and his father is weak willed and does whatever she asks. Maybe she lost custody of him one way or another and his father is meek under his families preassure. One way or another, though, his mother isn't around enough and his father takes on a role much like Space Kid did in Eggs Benifits, submitting to someone else when it comes to his kid.

Neil is an odd case too. His dad did seem rather clingy. But not to the point that would inspire the level of helicopter parenting Neil displayed. But then, I got to thinking about his mother. She and Carl are divorced. She tries to buy Neil's love and is seemingly the sole recipient of his familial affection. I feel she is rather possessive of him. Not to the same level as Neil was, but enough to spur that behavior in him. I wouldn't be shocked if Neil's distaste for Carl also came from his mother's possible manipulation. Neil seems to want to be as far from his dad as possible, hence how he cranks everything up to eleven, being paranoid and posessive to an extreme as opposed to his easy going father.

With Max it's easy to see his parent's influence. They're neglectful. Maybe even physically abusive. At first his behavior just seemed to mirror theirs. But then I got to thinking. Max is a good person, deep down. He wouldn't fuck up something in his care like that. So then I thought Max probably really did just think the whole thing was dumb because it wasn't real. He seems much more mature than the other kids in that sense. But as one of the most recent episodes, where Max goes full on detective, goes to show, he doesn't have that much of an issue playing along unless he's got something else to do. So I thought...he was probably frightened. I mean, neglect and abuse victims usually are when they're given a kid, are you kidding me? He was sure he was going to mess up so he thought it'd be better to let Nikki do things alone. This really leads me to think his parents are abusive and not just neglectful. Because if his parents fucked him up by leaving him to care for himself and nothing else, I doubt he'd choose to avoid the egg like that. But if his parenta actually /hurt/ him, physically or mentally, he'd be afraid of doing the same. And this is only solidified for me by the ending where he DID come around and he DID care about the egg when it hatched, meaning his fear of messing things up is most likely why he did avoid responsibility for the egg. So yeah, he's being abused.

Finally Nikki. She REALLY seems to have a bad father. Every time she mentions him it's him doing something ranging from mmildly awkward to pretty fucked up. Like talking about hookers in front of your young daughter. Nikki's behavior here, though, seemed much like her mother. I'm a STRONG defender of Candy. She signed Nikki up to a camp she knew her daughter would enjoy, and it's not her fault it turned out to be a scam, she turned up to parents day, even if she was a bit distracted, and aparently she had Nikki go bird watching with her, showing that she does spend time with her daughter. And she was apparently responsible enough to get full custody of her kid in the divorce. Sure, Candy's a gold digger, but that has nothing to do with her love for Nikki, and yeah, she dismissed Nikki being chased out by the flower scouts as a "silly little adventure", but Nikki is prone to dramatics. Nikki talks enough about Candy to show that she is around. But it's very, very likely that, like Nikki, she has no idea what the hell she's doing. That she's scared and doesn't know what's right and what's wrong. Being a single mother is hard, and it's clear that Candy isn't the most well off financially. I really think she's really just lost on how to do things like Nikki was in this episode.

Please tell me what y'all think and give me your own interpretations of their families. :)

#camp camp #camp camp analysis #eggs benifits #cc max #cc nikki #cc neil #cc ered #cc dolph #cc space kid #cc nurf #cc nerris #cc harrison #cc preston

35 notes · View notes

banesapothecary · 5 years ago

Text

What We Do

read on ao3

Midnight in Montreal, you and me in hushed phone calls. You breathed a little deeper that night.

“No, you hang up!” Helen almost doesn’t believe the words are coming from her own mouth. Years of rolling her eyes at the excessive cheesiness of rom-coms fall away, though. Everything falls away when she’s talking to Aline, so that the only thing that matters is the lovely dark-eyed girl she’d give anything to see smile.

Aline giggles, the sound crackling over the phone line but it still sounds like music to Helen. She can hear the melody behind it, wants to get lost in its lows and highs of the notes. “You hang up,” Aline insists. “You’re the one who has to go to sleep.”

Helen sighs, pulling the sheets higher up to her neck. “I know, I know. I should sleep before my audition in the morning, but I’m too wound up to sleep.”

“You know you’re gonna rock it,” Aline says, her words confident and leaving no room for question. Helen wishes for the millionth time that night that Aline was there with her. “Would it help you sleep if I just talked for a while?” Aline asks after a moment, her voice hushed.

Helen nods even though she knows Aline can’t see her. “Yes,” she whispers.

“Okay,” Aline says, humming as she thinks of something to say. Helen reaches over to her bedside lamp, turning the switch to cast the room into a comfortable darkness. Her head sinks back onto the pillow as Aline starts talking. “Isabelle told me a funny story about Jace the other day…”

Months later in my home town, you pick me up and show me around to places that I see with brand new eyes.

“Where are we going?” Helen asks, the happiness bubbling out of her in a laugh as Aline leads her by the hand.

Aline looks back at her, smiling and squeezing Helen’s hand. “An adventure!” she declares. “I want to see everything, all the sights.”

Helen raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “You know this is my hometown, right? Shouldn’t I be leading the sight-seeing adventure?”

“Nope,” Aline answers in a sing-song voice. “You already know everything, so there’s no magic in that.” She stops, looping an arm around Helen’s neck and pulling her close.

“Magic, huh?” Helen breathes into the space between them.

Aline nods seriously. “I’m new to everything, so it’s all magic and wonderful and new to me.”

Helen grins. “Do I get to share in your magic?”

“You are my magic,” Aline whispers, leaning in to brush her lips against Helen’s. Helen hums into the kiss, already feeling the magic of something new and wonderful swirling around them both.

And suddenly I’m smiling, and the world is shining, and you’re beside me with your hands up in my hair. We’re in your hotel room, you and me, the sweet view, dancing to these old tunes and I can’t believe I’m here.

“What is it?” Aline asks, one arm wrapped securely around Helen’s waist and the other carding through her hair. Her eyebrows furrow, nose scrunching up adorably in her concern. Helen’s heart swells as she shakes her head slightly.

“Nothing,” she whispers. ��Everything.”

Aline’s expression relaxes into an easy smile, and Helen would’ve kissed her if it didn’t mean pulling out of her arms. “You have such a way with words,” she teases.

Helen wants to tease her back, but she can’t for the rush of blood in her ears. Everything drowns out of a moment, only the sound of I love you I love you I love you echoing in her thoughts. The words are filling her like air and if Aline’s arm wasn’t holding her, she might’ve floated right up out of the soft hotel bed. “I love you,” Helen says quietly because it’s the truest thing she’s ever felt and her heart is begging her to say the words.

Aline is still, her fingers frozen in Helen’s straight blonde hair, but her heart beat is quick and pounding. Helen can hear it’s new erratic thump where her ear is tucked against the base of Aline’s throat. The quiet is louder than Helen’s thoughts had been, but Aline hasn’t pulled away yet, so she hopes.

“I love you, too,” Aline whispers finally, her voice as awed as Helen feels. ‘Awed’ doesn’t do the feeling justice, though, Helen thinks. She’s awed and happy and maybe a little scared by this new thing between them but more than any of it, she’s lucky.

She does move now, pulling herself up to rest her forehead against Aline’s and kiss her. Aline’s arms find their way around her waist as both of them try to drown in the feeling.

We’ve got this whole night to get this thing right, and there are witnesses, but we’ll destroy the proof. You’ve got my lips sealed and your eyes peeled, but it doesn’t matter as long as we both know the truth about what we do.

“I got the part!” Helen squeals as soon as Aline steps into her apartment, her excitement outweighing all her grand plans of telling her girlfriend the news.

Aline’s jaw drops, morphing into a wide smile as she wraps her arms around Helen. “You did it!”

“I did it,” Helen laughs against Aline’s dark hair.

“When do you start shooting?” Aline asks, pulling away just enough so Helen can see her dazzling smile.

“Next month,” Helen says, heart stuttering as she delivers the only bad news in all of this. “In Toronto. We shoot for three months.”

Aline’s smile falters. “Three months apart?” she asks quietly. Helen grabs her hand, intertwining their fingers, and squeezing. She tries to smile reassuringly, but her heart is aching at the thought of being apart for so long, too. Aline takes a deep breath, plastering a smaller smile on her face. “I guess I’ll just have to come visit, then.”

Helen grins. “You’d better.”

“So,” Aline says, her tone teasing, “I guess we’d better enjoy this month alone together while it lasts. After the movie comes out and you’re a big star, we’re gonna have cameras following us everywhere.”

“One,” Helen says with a snort, “that’s not going to happen. Two, are you sure you wouldn’t run for the hills if, by some chance, any of that actually happened?”

Aline flashes her a confident smile, eyes dark and sure. “Oh, it’s definitely going to happen, babe. They’re going to love you, just like I do. I’m not going anywhere.”

She can’t bear the emotion welling up inside of her, so instead Helen pulls Aline closer and kisses her, trying to pour every ounce of feeling into her lips. “I love you, too,” Helen says in a breathless whisper when they finally pull apart.

L.A. in summertime, your backyard, your hand in mine. We talk about the people, things we’ve seen.

The party is dwindling when Helen finds Aline again. She’s leaning against the fence, her dress dotted brightly by the fairy lights strung between the trees. Helen wishes she had her phone with her. She wants to capture this so she’ll always have it: the lights, the warm summer breeze, the feeling in her chest. Home. Aline.

Except tonight isn’t goodbye forever. It’s goodbye for now, and only really goodbye to L.A. Aline took off work for a few days to come with her, at first, and they’ve already planned out weekend visits and skype dates. Three months isn’t the end of the world, and Helen will be damned if it’s the end of them.

“Hey,” she says, and when Aline turns around, Helen knows everything will be alright.

“Hi,” Aline says, reaching out a hand. Helen takes it, their fingers loosely intertwined as they settle against the fence and each other. “Did you have fun tonight?”

“I did,” Helen nods, looking around the backyard at their friends and family. Only Mark remains of Helen’s siblings. Julian and Emma had insisted on taking the younger siblings home, and Helen had agreed, giving everyone one last tight hug before they left. Aline’s mom is here to see her off, and Max, the youngest of the Lightwoods, too. Aside from Robert, the rest of the Lightwoods are in New York. “I wish all of our friends could’ve been here,” she says quietly after a few moments.

Their world, their lives, are changing so fast. It’s a whirlwind, and Helen is both terrified and excited to be swept up into it.

“Me too,” Aline says softly. She’s quiet for a moment, making a face as a memory bubbles to the surface. “Do you remember at Alec’s graduation party? Those awful cupcakes Izzy made?”

“Oh, god,” Helen groans. “Maybe it’s a good thing they couldn’t make it.”

Aline laughs, the sound sweeter than appropriately flavored icing. “We would’ve survived it. As long as we’re together.”

Helen ducks her head, smiling and pressing her face into Aline’s hair. “As long as we’re together.”

Premieres, we stand in line. You look back, your eyes lock mine. We laugh about the people that we’ve been.

They’re at the premiere. Her premiere. Helen can’t stop smiling, and neither can Aline beside her. Their hands are clasped and their gowns complement each other, and the cameras are eating it up. The glamour of it all is intoxicating, but Helen knows the giddy feeling in her stomach is all because of Aline.

She’d been back in L.A. with her girlfriend for only a week, bouncing around on press tours leading up to the movie’s premiere. The movie is a whirlwind that’s finally calming down—at least for now—and Helen has never been happier than she has been this past week curled up in bed eating popcorn and dark chocolate covered pretzels during Netflix marathons with Aline.

Aline gives her hand a squeeze, and Helen turns to look back at her. She’s radiant, her eyes sparkling. “They love you,” she says, having to lean closer for Helen to hear over the sounds of reporters and the crowd.

“They haven’t even seen it, yet,” Helen says. “What if they end up hating it?”

Aline shakes her head. “Nope, they’re gonna love you. You’re gonna leave here with a legion of adoring fans.”

Helen smiles, ducking her head and fighting the blush rising in her cheeks. “I don’t know.”

“It’s true,” Aline says, her voice hushed and serious. “I know for a fact you’ll have one superfan.”

Helen leans even closer to kiss Aline’s cheek, nearly rolling her eyes as the camera flashes increased. “Then I’ll be extremely lucky to have you.”

“Actually,” Aline teases, “you’ll be going home with said superfan, so really I’m the lucky one here.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Helen snorts, tugging gently on Aline’s hand and leading her off the red carpet to find a moment of peace before the premiere officially started.

And suddenly we’re flying, and the world is shining, and you’re beside me with your hands up in my hair. We’re standing in your bedroom, you and me, the sweet view, dancing to these old tunes and I can’t believe I’m here.

“It was amazing. You’re amazing,” Aline gushes when they finally stumble through the door of her apartment.

“You really think so?” Helen asks, unsure if she’s warm from the compliment or from all the champagne. Both, she decides.

Aline nods, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the bedroom. “My girlfriend, the movie star.”

“It was only a supporting role,” Helen argues, coming to an abrupt stop when Aline turns around to press a finger against her lips.

“And you stole the show,” Aline says before kissing her, slow and a little sloppy and tasting like the fizz in the champagne glass. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispers when they pull apart, her breath ghosting across Helen’s lips.

This time Helen knows the warmth bubbling up in her like the champagne fizz is something else entirely. “It’s not all me,” she says, moving her hand from Aline’s waist to cup her cheek. “I do have a wonderful muse.” The lights were low in Aline’s apartment, but Helen could still see the blush rising in her cheeks as they stumbled back against the bed.

We’ve got this whole night to get this thing right, and there are witnesses, but we’ll destroy the proof. We’ve got my lips sealed and your eyes peeled, but it doesn’t matter as long as we both know the truth about what we do.

Helen calls her from her agent’s office, too excited to wait until she sees Aline later that night.

“Hey, babe,” Aline answers on the second ring. Helen smiles at the pet name, momentarily forgetting her news. “How did the meeting with your agent go?”

Helen takes a breath, trying to steady her heartbeat. “I got offered a lead role.” She says it casually, like it’s not a ridiculously big deal. Like she didn’t nearly start screaming in the middle of her meeting.

“Oh my god!” Aline shouts into the phone, and Helen is too busy laughing at her reaction to mind how loud it was in her ear.

“Yeah,” Helen says. “Apparently they really liked the movie.”

“I told you everyone would fall in love with you!” Aline says. Helen can hear her smile, picture it lighting up her face.

“I have to go to Toronto again,” Helen tells her, already dreading the separation. They survived the first shoot, though. She has no doubt they can get through it again.

Aline doesn’t sound worried, either. “When you come over later we can plan out all our visits,” she says casually, as if immediate support without even a second of hesitation isn’t single-handedly one of the best things Helen has experienced.

“I can’t wait,” she says simply, smiling the whole way home.

And now I wake up every night and think of how you held me tight. And now I’m missing you ‘cause, baby, you’re not here. And I miss how you saw right through me, looked at me and, baby, knew me. But I wonder if those things you saw, you liked.

She flies home to L.A. on a Wednesday. She’s still in the middle of shooting, but she managed to get a few days off, so now she’s walking through LAX thrumming with excitement.

Tomorrow (or today, Helen supposes, since it’s now just after midnight) is Aline’s birthday. She thinks Helen is stuck on set, unable to make it home to celebrate until the weekend. She’d insisted that it was fine, but Helen had seen the disappointment clear as day on her girlfriend’s face. The sight made her heart thump so painfully she’d almost said screw it and revealed her plans. But Helen has been watching far too many rom-coms, and surprising your girlfriend on her birthday is in Helen’s top ten most romantic moments.

She hails a cab quickly and FaceTime’s Aline as soon as she’s settled in the backseat. Aline answers instantly, a pout evident on her face.

“You were supposed to call an hour ago,” she complains. “I’m sleepy.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Helen apologizes. “I got held up.”

Aline frowns. “Are you in a car?”

Helen nods. “Yeah, I’m on my way home,” she says, smiling and knowing Aline will assume she means the apartment she’s renting near set. They talk for a while about everything and nothing. Helen tells stories from set, relishing in the sound of Aline’s laugh. Aline tells her about the trouble her cousin Sebastian’s been getting into. It’s good. It’s so, so good, and Helen can’t wait to hold Aline in her arms and trace patterns into her skin and hear her laugh without the phone’s static.

“I wish you were here,” Aline says right as the car pulls up next to her apartment building. Helen grins, an eager thrill running up her spine.

“Me too,” she says.

“Oh,” Aline sighs when she sees Helen step out of the cab. “Are you home? I can let you go.”

She thinks about keeping her on the phone, but she feels like she’s about to start bouncing off the walls and reveal everything. Plus, she knows Aline is smart enough to recognize her own apartment building. “Yeah, I am home,” Helen says instead and it isn’t even a lie. They hang up with promises to talk again soon, though if Helen’s definition of soon is a little different than her girlfriend’s, she doesn’t let on.

She knocks on the door, waiting with a pounding heart for a few minutes before the door opens slowly. Aline’s jaw drops, smiling as her arms fly around Helen in a tight embrace.

“I told you I was home,” Helen says into her shoulder.

Aline pulls her inside, staring at her like she’s a miracle. Like Helen standing there in her apartment on her birthday is her greatest wish come true. “Move in with me,” Aline murmurs.

“What?”

“Move in with me,” Aline repeats. “Come home to me all the time.”

“Okay,” Helen says without a second of hesitation, smiling so wide her cheeks hurt. “Okay.”

But then you’re smiling, and my world is shining, and you’re beside me with your hands up in my hair. Laying in your bedroom, you and me, the sweet view, dancing to those old tunes and I can’t believe I’m there.

It doesn’t happen at all the way Helen plans it to. She didn’t have a plan, necessarily, but it definitely wasn’t to blurt it out in the middle of a playful argument about something so domestic as what to have for dinner.

But here they are.

“Marry me,” Helen says, repeating her outburst. Aline is staring, her expression open and caught off guard. She’s smiling, though, and Helen knows. She’s itching to do this right, though, so she reaches towards her purse on the counter, digging through it until she finds the ring box. “I mean it. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Helen,” Aline breathes when she opens the box. The ring is simple and stunning, the diamond sparkling as much as Aline’s eyes. Aline raises a hand to her mouth, a few tears spilling down her cheeks. “Yes,” she says, nodding and reaching out for Helen. And then they’re wrapped up in each other, bodies so close they might have been one person, one heart.

Finally they pull away so Helen can slip the ring onto Aline’s finger, staring down at their joined hands.

“I love you,” Aline whispers.

“I love you, too,” Helen says. She smirks. “So does that mean we can get Thai?”

We’ve got this whole night to get this thing right, and there are witnesses but we’ll destroy the proof. We’ve got my lips sealed and your eyes peeled. It doesn’t matter as long as we both know the truth about what we do.

The sky is gold. Clouds are painted across it in streaks of pale pinks and purple blues. It’s stunning.

But not as stunning as Aline, already waiting at the end of the aisle.

They’d decided on dresses, both to assuage Jia and because, as Aline had put it after seeing the photos from one of Helen’s premieres, “We look damn good in a gown.”

Izzy stands next to Aline as her maid of honor, and Helen sees the other Lightwoods smiling at her from the rows of seats. Alec catches her eye, and Magnus beside him. Helen smiles back when she sees their hands clasped between them. She makes a mental note to find them later, to thank them. The Lightwoods, Alec and Magnus especially, were part of the reason she’d found Aline all those years ago. When Helen turns her gaze back to her waiting bride, she knows it’s a gift for which she’ll always be grateful.

Her hands reach out for Aline’s as soon as she’s close enough to touch her, smiling softly when their fingers brush. “Hi,” Helen whispers.

“Hey, beautiful,” Aline whispers back.

The ceremony passes in a blur of tears and vows and happiness. They kiss just as the sun is about to finally dip below the horizon, the sky lit up behind them. It had been Aline’s idea, to time the wedding just right.

“A movie star like you has to have the prettiest wedding photos,” Aline had teased, but Helen knows what she really meant. The sky behind them looks exactly how Helen feels right in this moment and will feel for the rest of her life with Aline: vibrant and happy.

This thing we do.

Between me and you.

#heline #heline fics #helen blackthorn #aline penhallow #shadowhunters #helen x aline #my fic

7 notes · View notes

sole-cuore-amore-e-droga · 6 years ago

Text

Tel Aviv 2019: Straight outta Australia to Eurovision with the Statue of Liberty's opera number

youtube

It took 4 years for Australia to figure out one day, “you know what would improve our chances with the viewing audience that’s tired of bland and easily produced pop? That’s right, a GODDAMN NATIONAL FINAL!!!! anyone here agreeing, mates? ehhh???”. And so we finally had an Australia Decides - the whateverth of many of the NFs to be added to the NF family. Where only the best of the best Australian acts compete for their title to get to Eurovision. The last Australian NFs I’ve seen before then were fan-made NFs for online Eurovision fan contests. And they were fun, but now they’re not as fun anymore as a real life-sized counterpart, with shorter than 1 week voting periods, real live performances of totally new songs, all on the same arena, and actual hosts instead of the short but clear instructions of “here are the songs, here are the voting details”. Good times.

Rather exciting the show was, full of anything AND everything. And what did it birth? The first ever totally white Australian participant (nothing wrong with it, it’s just that other 4 ones were of more exciting descents than European), Kate Miller-Heidke. The surprisingly older-than-she-looks operatic blonde with a sizeable career to boot, with nice songs on her overall repertoir (and a chubby lil bun of a son :3). I admit I knew of her from one of those mentioned online fan contests, at the very time one of her songs “Sarah” was popular in a fan circle of like 150-200 people. Since then I heard two more of her songs, so when she (and Sheppard) were announced as part of the Australia Decides lineup, I was excited because of the “automatic name recognition alert!!!” triggering in my head. And I hoped her song is as exciting.

But then I did listen to “Zero Gravity”. And I got confused.

But then again, it’s Kate. I had this moment of realisation that I actually am not a huge fan of her music overall? Just a couple of songs here and there, and probably that’s all. The other ones that I listened to that aren’t those ‘couple of songs’ are nice, but something that I’d only listen to volutarily to torture my inner state of mind.

For me the problem probably arises from the fact that I don’t feel the song’s structure and a lot of things feel like unfinished (because it takes a humongously long time between songlines ksksksk). But at the same time it might as well be the point of the song?? As far as I remember this is very much so about mental issues and how is one trying to break free off them while entering the “ze-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-eeeeeee-ro gra-a-a-a-a-a-aaaaaaa-vity”, and the “stone in shoe” thing (don’t you hate it when you find tiny-ass pebbles in your shoes, guys? cuz I do!!! let alone finding bigger sized ones like Kate just did!!!). Whatever’s keeping her down this time. But for some reason I don’t quite think that Eurovision has really been graced with great mental issue songs - Malta last year was just a cheap pop song stuck in the early 2010s with its dubstep sound; Romania last year was just an average teen sitcom background rock song, and it’s a shame about it being all that forgotten by others because I just happened to like it more and I feel for all those that feel depressed about their own existence and feel like saying “goodbye cruel world, I’ll see you never again anymore”. It feels odd not wanting to break the taboo before I become an animal or going where there’s zero gravity with these songs, yanno what I mean??

BUT! I didn’t say I hate that song. It has its qualities. Like, the verses are pretty decent, it’s just that the chorus feels completely detaching from my interest, which baffles me because I wanna like it more. We have these standard 00s mild-synthpop-like choruses and Kate’s blissful singing into your ear (ffs she starts her verses with “hey you” with THAT vocal sound. You don’t feel like turning up to her to ask “yes”??) on top of them, and then the chorus buildup feels like a helium balloon ride I wanna be let go of already. Alright, well, the 1st post-chorus doesn’t sound TOO bad... but the 2nd one, I’m not really a huge fan of it when she vocally warms up and then SPITS the opera vocals at me scarily. I’m spooked out. And then the last minute of the song is spent with sounding like it’s taken from a cheap-rent theatre play (I say ‘cheap’ because nothing here aside Kate’s voice sounds like OTT theatrical musicals to me), now with some more of delightful opera voice and the backings reminding us all that ain’t nothin’ holdin’ Kate down no’ mo’, ayy! The ending of the song is just so painfully obviously theatrical though, where all the horns rise up and let out a final blast with the final high vocal note like a flat silver-painted chocolate star on top of a dazzling white cinnamon-lemon cake with white glaze and some red berries sprinkled around... I guess I felt excited, I guess I felt like I was carried through a musical journey, but I still ended up completely unsatisfied because there were long pauses in the song that didn’t reasonate with me all that much. My soul really has something against songs that only have two verses and two choruses and that sound like they have potential but are overally unappealing (like me not getting over at how silly “Meggyfa” from A Dal 2018 sounds with all those horsefly and DAW-produced cartooney violins thrown in the song... it should have sounded like a fairytale about a king’s cherry tree, not a peasant’s made-up hallucination of an old and dried-out cherry bush :V). There shall be the day I overcome that obstacle, but for now, I’ll keep it be...

All in all, a competently composed, but at the same time, estrangedly composed song, performed by a classical fairy princess dressed in white and decorated by glitter (and her complementary backings that are cheerful enough sounding for a pop and/or tune). And the entry shines bright, too. As much as Kate’s beautiful teeth and shiny red lips - a perfect combo that could potentially scare an audience for being too perfect.

Approval factor: I’m on a fence with this one, yet again, but my views are leanings toward a mild non-approval. Though objectively I do approve this because it’s finally not a safe-ass entry that is just there to keep Australia afloat on Eurovision, but subjectively... it will take me several lightyears just to get over that severely cheap-ish chorus.

Follow-up factor: Again, it follows up the trail of Australia’s in Eurovision nicely, being so far something totally and completely unexpected from the nation’s, and something so daring in Eurovision overall (we got plain opera songs in the past, now here’s a more popera-musical crossover song that is not anyhow as schlagertastic as that one entry performed by Greta Thunberg’s mom 10 years ago!). A step in the right direction, even if it means that I am personally still inner screaming about it, lol.

Qualification factor: it’s perfectly capable of floating through a couple of places in the territory of both a safe qualification comfort and a hellish danger zone. I’ll leave it up for juries and televotes to judge it for themselves, but for me personally? If that pink foggy cloud from Greece underperforms with no chances to come back into a better shape, I think it could lend a spot to the Oz’s even-foggier thundercloud of joy, and it could even climb up higher if people aren’t overly charmed by the other game changers of the semifinal (like Iceland and Portugal, especially Portugal). But as of now, I guess I’m indifferent anyway the wind blows, and literally anything can happen. It’s truly one of those “anything can happen” songs, I assure you 100%, and it shall be fine, and any result for it will be perceived as spectacular, imo.

NATIONAL FINAL BONUS

FYI, if y’all want, you can rewitness the whole show here (before SBS sues off that for copyright reasons), but let me guide you through some of my personal highlights:

• If you guys that ever read these reviews know of any other Sheppard song than “Geronimo” then it’s okay, and it’s also okay if you don’t (and if you even haven’t heard of “Geronimo”)! I’m just saying that these guys were the first ever exciting sight in the Australia Decides lineup (along with KMH of course), and now, I’m not saying I wanted something that could top over the hit song of these guys in my personal opinion (well their actual NF song, “On My Way”, might be slightly on the path of suffering from the “it’s-no-hit-song-so-it’s-automatically-disappointing”-itis, which is incredibly contagious, especially for all the one hit wonders out there (and not only), but despite people accusing it of not being “Geronimo” here and there, I sat down, listened and simply liked it), I am just saying to stop throwing shit at the artist just because their management is worse than their music. Yeah! Remember the time it was uncovered that Sheppard is funded by their parents’ business being torturous? There are Papua New Guinean asylum seekers locked away in a faraway island where all kinds of shit happens - abuse, torture, rape... and the parent Sheppard is responsible for all this (well actually he’s only 1/3 of the responsible men), and he makes profit off it. That’s disgusting to the max, I know, and by no means I support this pasttime, but I really hope that the Sheppard kids don’t support the way their parents get the money to fund their hopes and dreams, otherwise... well anti-stans you were right. I might as well begin regretting stanning Sheppard now but for a dumb bitch I am there always exist a shard from a broken hope I can hang on to just in case things would get better. Just like the time when Kesha broke free from the Ke$ha image at the time it came out to light that her former producer, Dr. Luke, is THAT kind of guy. Anyway, if there are people down here that sometimes come for the music and not for the backstory, I’ll leave a video for Sheppard’s entry, which wouldn’t have come onto Australia Decides if not for the Sheppard fans (that they still had before the mentioned incident?) that encouraged them to go ^_^ Is your love for this song on fire? (probably not but I still am asking b/c fuck it)

youtube

• I know what you’re thinking, so I’ll include Electric Fields as well. And with a good enough cause because I liked their song too, just like many people did. “2000 and Whatever” mixes electronic music with a relatable message for all the millenials out there who don’t want to “live forever”, Aboriginal sounds and cool inclusion of new and unheard-in-Eurovision-before language(s?) and all in all would have definitely made a more kickass Australian entry for this year. And what’s the best about it? They didn’t need to have a big fanbase like Sheppard’s or a relatively middle-sized abroad but big inside like Kate’s. They did THAT by being incredibly fun and unique and gained both national AND international fans with their one year Australia Decides stint, and now the fans are hopeful to see this duo come out on another Australia Decides in the future. I salute their newborn fanbase for being so passionate and hopeful already. Oh, and of course, they got a meme out of their way at the same time without even needing to win (which wouldn’t have happened if not for SBS’s care to translate different languages than their own):

casually describing the jury chatter on National Finals like

But my favourite moment of the performance that they had is when the lead singstress let go of her headscarf to show off her beautiful long dreads to the viewing audience <3333

• For those combined fans of both ESC and RuPaul’s Drag Race, Australia fished out a special surprise with Courtney Act (what, you thought all drag race queens have had to be American of origin?!) being on the lineup as well! Together with several other dancers, she presented “Fight for Love” (not to be confused with Dami Im’s “Fighting for Love”) on the Gold Coast stage - just your typical soft club banger with tight red dressing reminiscent of Lady Gaga’s eccentric costume era and Courtney’s special stare:

I HAVE SPECIAL EYES

(what’s more hilolololarious is that Logo, who aired BOTH ESC AND RDP, has not gotten a renewed contract for Eurovision this year, which means that if Courtney DID win, the Muricans would not be able to see a drag alum they might have loved at some point! As they already cannot broadcast Lady Madge, the only American performing on show, flashing her covered-up sponge pudding. A devastation <3)

• Hey, let’s not underestimate the other acts, too! There were 6 others that I didn’t mention, and among them my favourites were Ella Hooper (as during her performance I felt like I was watching that Shania Twain concert DVD again with her outfit being as outstanding as in this video) and Alfie Arcuri (one of the other names I heard before just like Kate and Sheppard - it’s a homosexual guy that feels confident enough with his sexuality by turning his struggles to songs!), and Leea Nanos (a 16 year old girlie who, like Electric Fields, don’t really have fans, but she came here to have a good time and performed confidently enough for her age! *clap* *clap*) wasn’t so bad, either.

• Australia Decides as a whole is a thing to remember. Not too annoying hosts? Check. Beautiful introductionary postcards (involving the NF guys going around to enjoy nature, talking some more about themselves and a specific soundshape for each act at the end of each postcards)? Check. (Fun) Interviews with the contestants and interval acts?? Yeah, you can check that as well. Behind-the-scenes get-togethers of every one of the participants and them getting to partake in a fun questionnaire?? Wow, they even have that!!! All in all I admired this slick production, the smooth flow and the nice details that went into this whole event. Thumbs up on that one! First organisational pancake did not burn up.

• Then again, every single one of those nice ones have to have an ugly interval act hidden somewhere, like, the German drag-like caricature that appeared on AGT not so long ago, Hans from Adelaide, who did a Eurovision medley and included “Ooh Aah (Just a Little Bit)” in it as well... needless to say, the fandom didn’t approve of that, and obviously the Måns's version from EYD was better.

• Also also, what do other NFs don’t do that Australia Decides just did this year??? A REJECTED ENTRIES COMPILATION SHOWCASE!!! Damn straight! When was the last time you’ve seen one of these? At least SOME recognition given for those songs that were close enough but the NF compilers found much better songs than those ones so those other ones just didn’t get their chance... amazing considering I believe I’ve never seen a thing like that before. There indeed were some rejected NF songs that are marginably better than some from the actual list. And thanks to Australia Decides showing them, they’ll never be any other NFs rejects ever again, unlike the Melodifestivalen/DMGP/etc. ones. Yeehaw. Maybe this serves as a ladder of hope for those rejectees to get up and try again so we’ll see them in another edition?

• Let’s not forget Kate herself. She did come down at us as the Australian version of Statue of Liberty (as the title of this write-up suggests, youhouuuuu) that looks more like someone’s unused Miss Universe national costume, but still very goddamn dazzling. And the rando flying above her presence that couldn’t be “holding [her] down”. What would have been any other way to present a mental issues awareness song than that. Majestic. I’d printscreen her dress for this one in full motion but I’d rather put down this picture with a more interesting shirt choice walking nearby the Australian Eurovision songstress while she was getting down to be ready for her winner’s reprise. I’m sure you’ll be able to see the dress in this too!

(if only I could use some extra fries in life!! =( )

All in all, I applaud the Down Under-ners for a succesful kickstart in the NF business, and I really hope SBS invests in this more than just calling up DNA Productions again to find themselves a starlet from an old Australian Idol/X Factor season that’s of different descent as always and slap a pop tune onto their discography with which they gotta go with to ESC. Would be incredigood. Thanks.

I’ll wrap this cumbersome beauty up by wishing the whimsical beauty Kate all the best in Tel Aviv! Hope your infected foot did not ruin the fun for you, dear sis.

#eurovision 2019 #tel aviv 2019 reviews #australia 2019 #kate miller-heidke #zero gravity #australia

3 notes · View notes