#I can’t just keep writing them down in my personal calendar for every game | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ellitx · 3 years

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From Me To You | Venti x Reader

[Name]'s been spending more time with Aether writing letters. When will she go back to him to spend time together?

word count: 9.7k

“Now, who would love to listen to a bard’s song? One can harmonize with me to sing along~”

Sun-kissed white clouds blossom in the blue, free to fly with the wind. In the long horizon, they take on azure hues. It was a wonderful day to sing ballads to the people of Mondstadt.

Children and adults have crowded around Venti, the little ones' eyes sparkled in awe whilst the grownups are eager to listen to the stories he’ll share. A chuckle slipped from his lips and took out his trusty lyre, Der Frühling.

The sweet refrain of the lyre spoke a musical language to their soul. The strumming sound had a hypnotic soothing quality that he craved. To lose himself to the melody of the stringed instrument was his idea of heavenly noon.

The bard’s music fills the air without effort, like the waves filling holes in beach sand; the sound rushing in and around every person near the Cathedral. Some reacted to his poetic words, others continued in chatter, but it always speaks to them in some manner.

A lively tempo can lift them, elevate the spirit, or admire his storytelling of the previous heroes. Before the notes filled the air, every person was an island. With it, they all feel the same tidal flows and the beginning of togetherness feels warm.

His fingers ceased his strumming and gave a bow to his audience as they cheered and clapped from the wonderful performance and his melodious voice that favored their ears.

“Thank you!” He chuckled and the lyre dissipated from his hands, hiding in the unknown as he tipped his beret towards them fill it up with moras. Needless to say, he will spend it on a tavern to buy Mondstadt’s beloved dandelion wine.

Watching the townsfolk walk off and continue their business, he glanced behind him to look at the Cathedral. “I wonder when will [Name]’s guests leave?” He pouted and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I wish they’d leave already.”

Lost in his thoughts, a man then bumped into him making the bard stumble backward. He didn’t even apologize or spared a glance at him. “Hey!”

The fellow simply ignored him and ran off with his friend.

Venti whipped his head to see what the sudden commotion was all about. The citizens that were crowding in the town square caught his interest. He trotted his way near the semi-circular platform and observed.

“What’s going on there?”

Leaning forward on the bricked base to take a closer look, a familiar silhouette greeted his eyes. It was unexpected to see that the outlander has already come back. Aether waved to the people who welcomed him and smiled at them in thanks.

The bard was confused as to why he was here. What was his reason for his sudden appearance without their knowledge?

For some reason, it made his stomach churn.

It felt like bad news.

—

“[Name]! [Name]!” Venti called out her name as he ran inside the Basilica drawing Barbara’s attention.

“Ah, Venti! You mustn’t—“

“I understand what you’re saying… but this is more important.” Sister Jilliana sighed and let her palm rest on her cheek in worry as she looked at [Name].

“Yes, but…”

The door then slammed open, surprising the two females inside and cast their gaze on the bard. “[Name]!” He uttered her name once more and took a deep breath to regain the oxygen back to his lungs.

“Venti…?”

“Young man, how many times must I tell you to knock before entering this room?” Sister Jilliana scolded as a frown painted on her face.

A sheepish smile tugged his lips and closed his eyes to them apologetically. “Pardon me, Sister.” She breathed out wearily, already used to his abrupt barging, and motioned for him to come inside much to his pleasure.

Venti hopped his way to [Name]’s bed and enveloped her frail form in a hug. “What is it?” She asked as she caressed his dark locks that made him relaxed and enjoyed the feeling of her fingers grazing his head.

He nuzzled on her neck and gave light kisses on it making her cheeks flared up in embarrassment and pushed him gently before the nun could see his scandalous acts. A sullen look appeared on his appearance when she denied his love for her as he let his arms fall back to his side.

He almost forgot what he was going to say since he was so excited to finally see [Name] considering that he wasn’t able to visit her because of curfews. She has been stuck in here for who knows how long now, and just misses being with her.

He clenched his fist and placed it on his mouth as he coughed to get back to his composure. “It seems like he came back already.” She tilted her head in puzzlement at his words, unable to fathom what he meant.

It was ambiguous and equivocal so to say. Maybe he just wanted to play some word games again? Before she could speak out, someone was knocking on the door and Barbara came to announce something.

“The traveler is here.”

The female’s [eye color] oculars lit up and smiled. “You mean him?” She asked more on the bard than the deaconess. The former furrowed his brows and intertwined their fingers together, nodding hesitantly.

“I forgot it was supposed to be today.” [Name] muttered and glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall. “Please ask him if it’s alright with him to wait for me. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Of course.” Barbara smiled and closed the door quietly. Sister Jilliana cleared her throat and crossed her arms over her chest as she narrowed her eyes at her like a mother scolding a child.

“I’m sorry, Sister, but is it alright if we talk about this some other time?” She pleaded and clasped her hands together in an imploring way.

The nun shook her head and clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Some other time? You know you need to stay in bed and rest!” [Name] lifted the blanket from her form and let her feet dangle on the edge of the bed ready to set off.

Venti watched them quietly— with him following behind her— as she made her way to the exit of her room. “Young lady, your health will be at risk if you don’t stay here—“

“Don’t worry! I’ll make sure to drink my medicines!” [Name] said hastily and grasped his hand with hers before leaving the woman alone in the room as the door shut closed.

“Wow, it sure has been a long time since we’ve been here, huh.” Paimon said as she floated over the outlander’s head. He nodded in agreement and admired the marvelous garden from the window, absently nodding off to the wonderland.

“Aether!” The male whipped his head to the source of the voice and beamed at [Name] with his floating companion waving her hands excitedly. “[Name]!” Paimon exclaimed as small particles of constellations trailed along with her when she greeted them.

“Hello to you too, Paimon!” The female giggled as she danced around her. While the three of them were busy with their small reunion, Venti can’t help but glare at the blonde male.

Great, now he’s getting her attention I’ve always needed.

He grumbled to himself and clutched tightly on her hand to remind her that he was still there. Why is it that if he needs her affection so badly, something will sabotage and interfere with them?

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” [Name] apologized to Aether to which he brushed it off saying it’s fine. “and thank you for coming all this way.” She bowed to them and showed them her smile.

“You gotta loosen up, [Name]. You don’t have to be so formal around us.” The fairy started with a pout. She then looked at Venti who was clinging to her as a frown appeared.

“And why’s the Tone-Deaf Bard here?”

Venti huffed and scowled to the emergency ratio. “I’m the one who should be asking that, mind you. What are you two doing here?”

“Paimon…” The traveler scolded and placed his hand on his forehead, shaking his head in aggravation if she ever caused a scene inside the church. Seconds later, he regained his composure and looked to the bard.

“Sorry about Paimon. [Name] requested us to come here.” Was his answer to Venti’s question. The latter bit his lip and held the frail teen close to him protectively.

What for? He asked to himself, absentmindedly letting the winds get strong and sharp on their skin.

[Name] laughed airily when he did that and gave a short peck to his cheek to calm him down. She noticed he’s been more watchful than ever and it’ll be bad news if he’ll go out of control.

“Let’s take a seat. I’ll go and prepare tea for us.”

She tipped her head and beckoned them to follow her to the room. Aether looked around the area before taking a seat on the couch while Paimon awed at the sight of a plate of cookies resting peacefully on the table and grabbed a handful of it.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” Venti said as he wrapped his arms around the female’s waist from behind and buried his face on her neck. He fiddled with the ribbon that was tied to her dress while she started brewing tea for the guests.

“I already have enough. Staying in bed for days is even more tiring.” The faint scent of the sugar reached their nose as she took several and kept it in the sugar pot to bring it later.

He hummed as a response and watched her pour the freshly brewed tea on four teacups and placed it on a tray. His fingers wrapped on the handle and carried it before she could take it.

He didn’t want her to move so much and decided he’ll take care of this one. [Name] escorted him back to the living room and took a seat as Venti served the drink to Aether. The traveler thanked him and blew gently to cool it before taking a sip.

Sighing at the aromatic drink, Aether glanced at them. “Should we start?” He asked and settled the cup back on the table. “Of course, it’s better to begin right away. If I recall correctly, you were alright with helping me for one week, right?” [Name] pondered.

He bobbed his head. Paimon gave a curious look as she munched on the cookies. “Oh right! Traveler and I are happy to help you anytime! Uh… what was it that she asked us again…?”

Aether groaned at her lack of focus, too tired to even give her an answer. “I can discuss it with you if we take it to the sunroom if you don’t mind? It’s nice and bright out there.”

[Name] stood up from her chair and patted her outfit to tidy up the creases that formed. Venti’s brows arched in curiosity and inquired about them. “What are you doing?”

“I’m having him help me write some letters.”

He was beyond confused at such a simple request, yet why did she ask Aether to come all this way just for that if he can just do it for her? He furrowed his brows and looked down on the floor, feeling dejected that she’s not relying on him.

“I could’ve done that for you…” He muttered bitterly and clenched his fists. She felt her heart sink at his morose state and apologized. “I’m sorry, Venti but this is something different.” She cupped his cheeks as her fingers touched them affectionately. Rather than having the warm and loving feeling, it just felt heavy like something was weighing on his shoulders.

Breathing a sigh, he rested his palm over hers and leaned closer as their temples made contact. “Who are you writing to?” He whispered and admired the swirls of [eye color] in her eyes as they twinkled.

“Well…” She closed her eyes and smiled blithely. “Someone very far away.”

That was not the answer he was expecting. He whined at her enigmatic comment and kissed her lips as a counter much to her surprise and bashfulness to his direct public display of affection.

[Name] could feel the heat growing in her cheeks. By now they must be beyond attractive rosiness. She felt as if all her insecurities were writ large across her face and there was nowhere to hide.

“Ahem!” Paimon cleared her throat to garner their attention. Venti’s eyes focused on hers and hummed innocently as if nothing happened. “Seriously? Right in front of us?” She remarked and folded her arms.

“So? Any problems with it?” He asked in a snobbish tone and held [Name] close while she covered her whole face with her hands, too ashamed to face the guests and Venti himself.

“W-we should get going now, Aether. I don’t want to delay your travels any further.” She stuttered then looked at the bard. “Venti, can you stay here?” She pleaded and hoped her begging would work on him.

“Eh, why?”

“This is something private. I’m really sorry if I’m being surreptitious today, I promise I’ll make it up to you.” [Name] brushed her lips on his cheek before setting off to the sunroom with Aether and Paimon following after her.

The blonde looked behind his shoulder and stared at Venti’s small frame standing idly in the middle of the room. He felt bad for him that they’re keeping a secret from him. Aether has to fulfill the girl’s request. He hopes the Anemo archon won’t misunderstand everything.

By the time they arrived there, his eyes caught on the typewriter sitting on the lone table with Barbara situated on a chair, humming a song. She lifted her head up when she saw three figures from the corner of her eyes and greeted them with a big smile.

“You guys are finally here.”

Venti peeked from the window and watched as their lips moved to try to comprehend what they’re saying from the other side of the room. He tried his best to do lipreading but when [Name] turned her head, he immediately ducked and hid from her eyesight.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, not that because she almost caught him, but because of the outlander and his little companion. “I knew he was bad news.”

Hearing the loud screech of the chair, he jerked his head in the direction of the noise as his teal eyes widened and his mind went blank as did his heart at the sight of his dear toppling if it weren’t for Aether catching her in time.

The female’s chest tightened and her breathing was ragged and short as she clutched tightly to whoever was holding her for support. Everything turned cloudy and fuzzy, she blinked several times to recover her focus but to no avail, the world then went dark as several voices called out for her.

Venti panicked and soon dashed inside, ignoring the calls of the nuns that wanted him to stop.

—

“Are you okay…?” Asked the bard as he connected their hands together and rubbed circles on the back. “I’m fine. Sorry if I gave you a shock.”

[Name] was currently laying on her bed, tucked inside the blanket. Here she was again, stuck in her room with the smell of medicines and flowers wafting around the room.

When will she ever have a day to finally get out of here and enjoy the outside world with her friends instead of being cooped up alone? Venti continued letting his finger graze on her hand to distract himself and believed she’ll get well soon.

“I’ll be better right away.” She assured him with a smile. He stayed quiet and unheedingly interlocked their fingers to continue to play with it. [Name] didn’t mind at all. If that’s what makes him feel at ease then she’ll allow it without asking.

“Hey, Venti,” She called out quietly.

“Hm?”

“Can you sing for me?”

The motion of his finger halted as a smile donned his face. “Of course. Anything for you.”

He first started humming, improvising a ballad for her— to make a melodic and lilting harmony just for her. It soothed her ears listening to his soft voice as her eyes flitted, ready to set off to the wonderland of dreams.

Humming should be a soothing sound, dulcet tones creating a wordless melody, something to help her drift away to a reassuring Neverland. Venti’s gentle humming fills her room, he knows she prefers it if it’s sedating.

From now until then, [Name] will savor each note for they make her feel at home like nothing else can.

“Venti,” She uttered her beloved’s name one more time.

“Yeah?”

Her fingers dug on her blanket before shaking her head and smiling. “It’s nothing.” There it is again. [Name] became reluctant about what she’ll say. His brows knitted together at her furtive behavior.

Ever since Aether came, that’s how she’s been acting. Seven days of not being able to get close to her while they write, is it even possible for him to do that? The sisters watched him closely if ever he tried to sneak inside.

It really infuriated him that they’re separating him from her.

What other ways could they possibly spend time together without any disturbance? He snapped out from his daydreaming when the squeaky voice of the fairy reached their ears. He didn’t bother to look at or even spare a greeting to them.

So when the blonde stood near her bed and placed a pouch on her hand, it made him curious to know what was inside there. “[Name], we’ve brought the seeds as you asked!” Paimon exclaimed as she appeared over Aether’s shoulder.

“Will these be enough?” The latter asked. The female sat up and carefully opened the bag to see the contents. She hummed in affirmation and smiled at him in thanks.

“Thank you. W-was it a hassle to find these…?” She queried slowly. “It’s fine! We’ll do anything as you asked even if it’s killing abyss mages!” The traveler gawked at Paimon’s words before sighing and nodding.

She giggled at their words, putting down the pouch on the lamp table. “I wouldn’t go that far to ask such things, but thank you.”

“Excuse me,” A head poked out from the doorframe as Barbara revealed herself. “[Name] needs to rest now and it’s almost past the curfew hours. Sister Jilliana will be mad if she sees you’re all here still lingering.”

Venti’s eyes cast to the clock as he watched the hands ticked. “Isn’t it a bit too early?”

“What do you mean early? It’s getting dark already and we better go now! She really needs to sleep after what happened.” Paimon huffed whilst she crossed her short arms.

The archon groaned when Aether grabbed his shoulders and dragged him away from [Name], unwilling to let go. Venti removed his hand before running back to her and giving a short yet sweet kiss on her head, cheeks, and lastly her lips.

He slowly parted from her wanting to linger his lips on hers a bit more. The feeble girl looked up at him, his azure optics already glued to hers as a faint tint of red brushed on the apples of her cheeks. She closed her eyes when he pecked her head once more and whispered,

“Sleep well, okay? I’ll come to visit you again.”

[Name] nodded, finally laying down and tucking herself comfortably inside the blanket. Night rolls around and after a time the sandman came to heavy her lids. She felt the shuttering of her synapses, the quiet lure into sleepiness. As each limb becomes heavy and the heart slows to a more peaceful beat, the comfort of bed calls.

—

“Paimon’s so exhausted. Where are we going to rest anyway?” The pixie yawned as she trailed behind Aether. “[Name] already saved a room for us in the Knights of Favonius headquarters, we can go there now.”

“Wow, she already planned ahead, huh.”

Nighttime stretched ahead as long as the road they had traveled in the daylight hours, now charcoal-hued and cold. The birds were silenced, no one walked the streets, the only serenade being the ever-present chirping from the crickets that hid from shadows or maybe even from the bushes near the statue.

The Knights in front of the main door saluted to the Honorary Knight with him greeting them back. Opening the door, the familiar room people around him gave him a sense of nostalgia.

“Welcome back, traveler.” Jean welcomed him with a warm smile. “It’s good to see you again. I presume there were a few monsters along your way here?”

Paimon laughed and shook her head. “Nah, we wiped them out in one go. He’s really strong and no one is able to defeat him!” She exclaimed proudly while placing her hands on her hips as her chest was puffed out.

“Oh? I didn’t expect to see you here.” The Cavalry Captain then appeared behind Jean as he smirked seeing the two companions. “I thought the news of you coming back were just mere rumors, it seems like I was wrong after all.” He sighed nonchalantly.

“We can’t just ignore [Name]’s request so we immediately left Liyue.” The fairy replied. Kaeya hummed before bidding them a goodbye to go to archon knows where.

“You should take a rest. Your travels have tired you off after all. Noelle already cleaned the room and if you need anything just ask us.” Aether took note of the Acting Grandmaster’s words and bobbed his head in acknowledgment.

A yawn escaped his lips unintentionally as the corner of his eyes started to tear up from drowsiness.

“Yeah, we better need that. Paimon’s getting sleepy, I might pass out from here.”

With Aether and the emergency food wishing Jean a good night, they marched off in their room and slumped on the bed once they saw it, drifting off to dreamland.

—

After a sleepless night on the ward, [Name] sank into her bed. It was three in the morning and even the birds were quiet. There was no single sign of a human nor an animal walking outside.

She drank in the silence through every pore, soothed by its meditative quality. Each time a worrying thought emerged, she mentally jotted it down on a notepad and closed her eyes to drift those thoughts off and replace them with something positive.

When her uneasiness had finally leached into the void, she moved her weak limbs up the stairs to bed, then she lay there wrapped in her duvet— cocooned by the thick protective buffer of the absolute quiet.

A thumping was then heard from the window as she whipped her head in alertness. A small silhouette can be seen outside but was hard to make through to see who this stranger was because of the dark.

The window opened, making her panic until the kisses of the gentle breeze calmed her down and eased her beating heart back to its normal rate. The figure landed on the floor softly and approached her carefully.

The familiar green outfit and the smile she loved oh so much made her chest flutter in excitement and glee. She threw the blanket to the side and stared at the young man, eyes tinged with confusion and wonder.

“Venti? What are you doing here so late?” The said male giggled and flopped himself next to her and caressed her hair bringing it to his lips to kiss it. “Didn’t I tell you I’ll come to visit you?”

[Name]’s brows dug and averted her gaze. “Well yes, but I wasn’t expecting this kind of time would be your visit.”

He intertwined their fingers together and pulled her form close to his as he gave light kisses on her neck. A breathy sigh was evoked from her lips and laid her head on his shoulder, reciprocating his hold she missed dearly.

After giving her affections, Venti grabbed the shawl that was lying on the chair and draped it over her shoulder. “Come on, I want to show you something.” He gently pulled her up from her seat and took the pouch given by the traveler.

“Won’t the guards see us and catch you once they know you’re intruding again?” She whispered and hesitantly allowed him to lead her. “No worries. It’ll be really quick.” He laughed mirthfully without care of the consequences.

She heaved a sigh before asking, “Wait, why show it to me now? We can just do it when the morning dawn arrives.” He stopped his tracks in front of the window and faced her.

“I wouldn’t be able to do that. The curfew, Sister, and then the traveler will steal you from me again…”

She can feel her heart shatter at the sight of his downcast look but he quickly replaces it with a grin. “Now, don’t feel so blue. I can’t help but be saddened by it too. Let’s change it with a smile for something new?” He leaned close and brought his hand behind her as he rhymed, making her chuckle at his cute frolic.

“See? It suits you more with a smile than a frown that has been compiled. Now let’s make haste before the moon will be replaced.”

Venti pulled her as they exited from the opened window and knelt down on one knee with his back facing her. “I’ll carry you there,” [Name] looked around the area before obliging and wrapping her arms over his shoulder as he hoisted her up.

From the distance, a certain traveler was aimlessly walking around for a midnight stroll. Aether was having trouble going back to sleep and left Paimon resting in the headquarters to relax his mind. The familiar face of Venti caught his eyes, bringing him wide awake and wondering what he was doing.

It was even more surprising to see [Name] was with him. Wasn’t she supposed to rest to recover? What is she doing outside with him so late? He immediately hid behind the corner and watched them from afar in curiosity.

Venti carefully had his hold underneath her knees and surreptitiously sauntered towards the Anemo God Statue Plaza. He easily summoned the wind to lift them up to the statue’s hands and landed gracefully. [Name] brought down her bare feet on the cold surface and admired the view from atop.

“Careful.” He cautioned and held her arm. The female sat down and let her feet dangle at the edge. When Venti mimicked her actions, she laid her head on his shoulder surprising him but didn’t mind at all.

He took out a pouch he had taken from her room and placed it in her hand. “You wanted to blow these dandelion seeds, right?” She glanced down at it and nodded. “Yeah, but how do you know they were dandelion seeds? I don’t recall telling you about it.”

He cheekily smiled and laid his head on top of hers. “The scent of dandelion is easy for my nose to pick up. And knowing what you’ll do about it, I decided to help you.”

“Then can you cover your ears for a while?”

Venti did as he was told though it’s not entirely covered per se. He left a bit of space to listen and know what she’ll whisper to the seeds but got caught red-handed. “No eavesdropping! You know this is something private.” She pouted.

He lightly laughed and kissed her nose as an apology before covering them up again with his hands and turning his back.

[Name] brought her hands close to her lips and whispered her wishes onto it. A handful of it should suffice, maybe in another day, she’ll do it again. She heard from Sister Grace that the dandelion seeds will carry their feelings in their hearts with the wind.

If it is true then she hopes the Anemo Archon, Barbatos, will listen to it and lead her message to a distant place.

She gently blew them away and watched them scattered along with the air and drifted off as the glaze guided the particles to the unknown.

—

[Name] read the text on the paper written by Aether as she discussed some things about it. She closed her eyes and smiled at him gratefully as Paimon floated above her head to take a peek at what’s written on it.

Venti rested his chin on his palm and watched them from the other side of the room that separated him from his beloved.

What could they be talking about?

The sound of shoes’ heels tapping against the tile brought him back to the real world and saw the blonde deaconess holding a tray of pastries and cups of tea in it. He jumped to his feet and neared her.

“I can take it to them.” He outstretched his arms expecting Barbara to simply give it to him as he smiled at her blithely.

The girl moved the tray away from his grasp and shook her head. “No, you won’t. Though I appreciate your offer, I can do it myself.” She looked at him apologetically when he frowned. His eyes followed her figure entering the room and huffed.

“Sheesh. Why must nothing in life ever go right?” He slumped on the couch before taking another glimpse at the sunroom. He saw the Honorary Knight handed her another piece of paper as [Name]’s eyes scanned over the text.

A forlorn expression was then etched on her visage. Her eyes turned glossy while she read the letter and her shoulders shook tremendously, accidentally crumpling the paper from her hold and holding it close to her as if it was something precious.

Tears dribbled from her eyes, letting it flow freely on her cheeks as small drops of water fell on the ground. It hurt Venti to see her like this. It hurt him to see her cry.

His heart ached to see her in this vulnerable state that he could do nothing but watch from the other side, not even allowing him to approach her to give her the comfort she needed.

—

Another night came by quickly. Aether was strolling at the town square to craft some materials and buy some food before heading back to the headquarters. When he felt a light tapping on his shoulder, he turned around and saw Venti standing there with a smile.

“Oh, Venti. It’s good to see you again. Is something the matter?” He asked and faced him fully. “What are you doing?” The bard asked as he glanced at the bag he was holding.

“Just shopping.”

“Is it for [Name]?”

The traveler paused, thinking of what he should say. There was nothing to hide from him so he presumed it was safe to tell him.

“Yes.”

When he answered, Paimon appeared out of nowhere and crossed her arms. “Hey! Be careful what you say to the Tone-Deaf Bard!” Both of them ignored her as Venti continued to question him.

“Are you going to write letters with her again?” The blonde nodded in response.

“How long?”

Paimon grumbled but before she could lash out at him, Aether grabbed her legs and covered her mouth with his hand. “Six more days.”

Venti narrowed his eyes to the emergency ratio before looking back at him. “Who are you writing to?” The traveler’s mouth opened slightly and gave a quick answer.

“It’s something I can’t tell you.”

The archon clicked his tongue and glared, “Why?” His voice sounded more demanding than a question. Aether was taken aback by his tone. He never heard him so aggressive before that it made him shudder in fear.

“It’s something confidential.” It took him a lot of courage to reply to him, hoping the raven-haired male won’t outrage at his vague answer. This is the only question he won’t answer. No matter who asked, only he, Paimon, and Barbara know who this is written for.

“It can’t be someone from her family…” As much as it hurt Venti, he knew the fact [Name] was all alone and the Church had to be the one to take her in. He was always there for her, but so, who is this person she’s writing for that requires him not to be included?

“Hey, tell me. Who is it for?” He asked more softly. Aether stared at him for a second then sighed quietly.

“Venti, didn’t you come here for a reason?”

“A reason…?” He echoed. He hummed and placed his fingers on his chin, thinking. “[Name]’s asleep and the nuns won’t let me check up on her,” Venti remarked and folded his arms.

“Shouldn’t you need to rest as well?” Aether’s words made him snort in laughter. “Bold of you to assume that I require sleep.”

Paimon was finally released from her companion’s grasp and pointed accusingly to the bard. “Then shouldn’t you go to a tavern or something?! That’s what you always do when it’s nighttime!”

Venti let out an annoyed sound and looked at the small accomplice. “Well, I don’t want to!” Her eyes widened in shock and looked at Aether. “D-did you hear what he said? The Tone-Deaf Bard doesn’t want to drink?!”

The latter sighed and shrugged his shoulders unsurely.

“I’m going back! I bid you all goodnight!” Venti stomped his way out as the outlander watched his small form disappear from the distance, wondering what was his sudden change in tone all about.

—

Three days had already passed by and whenever Venti and Paimon saw each other, both of them had a glaring contest. It actually amused Aether to see this happened and when he told [Name] about this, it made her laugh.

He was assured to know that Paimon was unintentionally occupying Venti’s time. He didn’t tell her about this though since he knew she would stay silent and back out. Aether and [Name] were glad to see Venti was returning back to normal with his usual rhymes appearing more often than ever.

It did scare him whenever the bard gave him death glares when he’s not looking. He can feel those sharp glances ever since he came back to Mondstadt and he was sweating so furiously when he knew that.

At least this time, it was getting less and less.

Or so he thought.

“Will this do?” Barbara handed her the paper and [Name]’s optics skimmed over the words, silently reading it. Her eyes caressed the strokes of the pen, seeing the personality behind the lines and punctuation marks. Finally reaching the last words of the letters she closed her eyes and smiled.

“Yes, it’s perfect.”

“I’ll write along these lines then,” Aether said and took another piece of paper and placed it in the platen as [Name] thanked him. The door slightly creaked open but went unnoticed by the three.

Venti peeped at the small gap of the door and observed them. Instead of writing in the sunroom, they were currently inside her room to continue doing it. It was hard for him to find a location where he can keep watch of her, so taking a small peek won’t hurt right?

The frail female’s breathing suddenly became shaky and the tightness on her chest arrived once more accompanying it with immense pressure. It alerted her when she saw the door was fully opened for her to see Venti standing there with a panicked look.

“Venti...”

He didn’t know Sister Jilliana was there, so when she turned around, he quickly made up an excuse and looked away from them. “I-I was just going to call for the traveler. Something urgent came up.”

“Is that so? Is it alright if we hold it for a while?” The nun asked him to which he avoided making eye contact with her. “Can I have a short break?” Aether jumped in and waited patiently for an answer.

“H-huh? Why now?” Paimon asked. The blonde gestured her to play along and she quickly understood what he meant. Paimon flailed her arms in the air, an attempt to make it more convincing. “Oh! Um, yeah, we really need a break. I hope [Name] doesn’t mind it?” She meekly smiled at them.

The sickly girl shook her head and told them it’s fine. The chair creaked when he stood up and approached Venti who had a distant look. He closed the door quietly and followed him until they stopped near the altar.

“I suppose we both know that I just fabricated my words out there,” Venti mentioned that he didn’t bother to confront him. Aether nodded silently in agreement.

“I just wanted to check how she’s doing.” When he remained quiet, the archon called his name. “Hey, stop taking away the time she and I spend together.” He begged that his voice almost cracked.

He was desperate to just be with her.

“I’ll be gone in a few days.” The outlander stated and looked him directly in the eyes.

“Then at least please tell her I’ll be there while you’re writing the letters. I want to be by her side. I just wanna be there and hold her hand tight! Please!” Venti’s voice gets louder and louder, letting his words echo inside the church. He grabbed his shoulders and tightly dug his fingers onto them as he begged.

Aether deterred his view from his and grabbed his hand, putting it back to his side. He feels guilty for doing this to him, but he has to keep his promises. No matter how much he pleaded, he had to deny all of his requests.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept that.” The bard gritted his teeth and pushed him.

“Why?!”

He quickly regained his balance and looked away. “Excuse me, I have to go back.” The traveler left him alone in the nave as he strode back to [Name]’s room. Venti blankly stared at his back as his hands clenched into fists, making his knuckles turn white.

“Do you think we can finish today?” [Name] asked and stared at the stacks of paper neatly arranged on the table. “If we maintain this pace, yes.” The Honorary Knight replied. Paimon gave her another paper and asked if she could review it.

She suddenly took on a pale look, as if she’d been painted white-wash— even her lips were barely there. Beneath her feet, the wooden floor felt soft, not as much as even a firm carpet, but not right for oak plants. It was hard to make out the details of the room after the autumn fell outside; but after a while, she could make out the features of the room.

Before she could grab onto the letter, her form abruptly collapsed as Aether quickly caught her to prevent her from injuring herself any further. “[Name]!” Barbara screamed in worry and approached her.

“I’m… fine.” She assured them in between her breaths.

“But—“

“Please keep going.” She cut him off and looked at him pleadingly.

The wind blew through the room with a powerful fury, scattering the stacked envelopes as if they were leaves of fall. The slam of the door was the tempest inside Venti made audible.

It was how he wrote the pain in the air, hoping that someone would understand how to stop [Name] from pushing herself— praying that there would be enough assurance in the world to calm the winds that tore at his insides.

“That’s enough!” He shouted and ran to her, holding her weak form in his arms. “Just stop already!” Tears rolled down his cheek and cradled her close to him and cried on her shoulder, dampening the sleeves of her dress. When he felt someone touch his shoulder, he slapped it away.

No one should interfere with them. He had enough already. Can’t they see how critical he was to see her so weak as each day passed by?

“Why… why must you write these letters…” His voice was hoarse from his shouting and buried his face on her hair to take in her scent. “Who are you writing them to?” He cried as if his brain was being shredded from the inside. Emotional pain flowed out of his every pore.

From his mouth came a cry so raw that even the eyes of the people around them were suddenly wet with tears. “They’re important letters.” She said and brushed his hair with her fingers to calm him.

“They’re for someone I don’t know, right? Someone who doesn’t even visit when you’re sick!” [Name]’s eyes enlarged when his words entered her ears as she tightly clutched onto him. She can feel her own eyes swell up with emotions as she cries and let them escape freely without restraints.

“There’s nobody out there who’s truly worried about you!”

Everything was quiet except for their cries inside. When he pulled back, she wiped the salty fluid that stained his cheeks and leaned on his shoulder. “Are the letters more important than me?” He uttered, the tone in his voice was shaky and breathy.

[Name] kissed his head and ran her fingers through his hair to soothe him. “Nothing’s more important to me than you, Venti.” He sniffed and rubbed his eyes with his hand to get a clear view of her appearance.

“Why is everything full of lies...” Her brow arched in confusion as she felt his fingers tightly gripping her waist.

“You aren’t getting any better at all. They said you’d recover soon!” So many tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down on his face. His chin trembled and breathed heavier than he had before.

“I know that you’re… I’m going to be all alone again when you’re gone!” His throat burned from screaming. Even gasping for air was simply not enough for him. [Name]’s [eye color] optics are slowly but surely becoming glassy.

Tears are now streaming down her cheeks from his words. She hugged him tighter and whispered sweet nothings to him, no matter how much she tried to assuage him, it only failed as he continued to sob hysterically and screamed on top of his lungs.

“How much longer do I have with you?!”

Barbara sniffled her cries by covering her mouth with her hand and turned away as it ached her heart to know [Name]’s undecided fate.

“If I’m going to be left alone all over soon,” Venti grazed his fingers on her face and connected their hands, afraid she’ll disappear if he let go of her.

“Then forget about the letters and spend this time with me! Be with me! Please, [Name]!!” Aether slowly approached them and lifted the bard up by grabbing his shoulders. He knows he’ll try to escape from his hold and so he tightly grips his arm to stop him from getting close to [Name].

When he turned to face the traveler, there was no sign of tears. Not in his eyes or in track marks on his reddening face. His eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, and hard. Once more, Aether was the enemy. Venti’s states had no greyscale, only the polar extremes existed.

The blonde took in a deep breath, the burning hard stare would last only as long as it took him to think of the most brutally cutting things he could tear him down with.

“Let go of me, Aether!!” He ignored his request and did his best to hold him a bit longer until he calmed down. Venti gnashed his teeth and because of too much resentment he had for the traveler, he disappeared into the thin air with teal feathers fluttering along.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he ran and ran outside of the city. His calves burned, his breathing forming clouds in the air becoming short gasps. He started cramping and his body shook uncontrollably, finally stopping in front of the giant tree in Windrise.

He was on his knees on the ground, facing the tree, screaming and crying. His whole face is red and shouting at the very top of his lungs. His upper body and shoulders wrack with every sob that forces their way out, chest rising and falling unevenly as he gasps for breath, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

He balled his hands into fists and gripped his hair to let out a blood-curdling scream. Unbeknownst to Venti, Aether chased after him after his disappearance and stopped in his tracks when he saw his curled up form.

“Venti…”

The said male continued sobbing and disregarded his presence. “I’m taking the time you can spend with [Name] away for a good reason.” Aether justified.

“Shut up…”

“It’s only natural that this would be painful for you. You’re already carrying the burden of her illness on your body. So please stay strong for her.”

“Shut up!”

The archon lifted his unsteady body and faced him. Endless streams of cries continuously flowed on the sides of his face and choked out, “I made her cry…”

“No, you were worried about her condition.”

“You’re wrong.” Venti countered.

“I’m not.”

He dashed at him and punched his chest making him fall back on the ground. “You’re wrong! You’re wrong! She fell sick because of me!” He shouted and proceeded to throw punches at him repeatedly.

“You had nothing to do it with.”

“You’re wrong!!”

Each punch slowed down and grew weaker, allowing Aether to ease his raged up condition while Venti mindlessly poured out all of his emotions onto him.

“There was nothing anybody could’ve done.” The former muttered under his breath.

“Shut up!”

“Just like how the unknown god captured my sister from me. I couldn’t do anything to save her there… Nothing can be done about this.” The bard’s brows creased as he went quiet and stopped hitting him.

He already lost count of how many times he had cried on this day. His gaze cast downwards as he fell on the ground, breaking down.

“[Name]… [Name]…” Aether knelt down before him and rubbed his back reassuringly. “Why do you write those letters?” He inquired whilst his shoulders trembled.

“Because everyone has feelings they want to deliver to someone.”

“Who cares about that? They don’t have to be!” It only brought him more pain and isolation, and so Aether can be quite sure that the cries are of the desperate pain that keeps on slicing deeper.

The blonde’s golden optics were flicked with dolefulness, continuing to stroke his back. “No letter that could be sent deserves to go undelivered.” Out of complete silence, the cry arose. Out of complete reverence, the things of the world stilled to listen.

Venti’s mind was clouded with pain and sorrow, his heart grew cold and numb with pent up emotion. Over lands and seas, through forests and valleys. Every ear in the universe stilled to listen, every heart broke, so heavy so miserable his song.

—

It was the final day and they have eventually finished writing. It was time for Aether and Paimon to take their leave. Venti sighed in relief to receive the news that there were no more letters to write. No more Aether of taking [Name]’s time. And also no more signs to see the emergency food.

They were currently outside the Cathedral as she wanted to bid them farewell and safe travels. His warm hand made contact with hers and secretly poked his tongue out at Paimon to annoy her.

Her squeaky voice reached their ears and stomped her feet in the air as she faced her companion with an irked look. “Ugh, I can’t stand that Tone-Deaf Bard! Let’s just go already!”

[Name] chuckled while Venti only brought her closer to his body and slithered his arms around her waist protectively. He puffed his cheeks out as they watched their figure disappear below. Unlike her, he didn’t wave them goodbye much to her confusion.

She asked him about it in which she only received a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders and a short yet sweet kiss on the lips from her lover.

Aether was no stranger. He wasn’t a piece of bad news either. Deep down he knows he’s a thoughtful and sympathetic person.

I wish I could’ve read the letters they wrote.

He stole glances at her before pushing her inside the Cathedral to go back to her room and cuddle with her.

I wonder who they were for.

“[Name],” He called out. She hummed to let him know her attention was on him. He rubbed circles on the back of her hand and kissed the nape of her neck as he whispered softly against it.

“I love you.”

A small chuckle slipped from his lips when he saw how her cheeks flared up from his confession. She turned around and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, attacking him with shy kisses.

“I love you too.”

Seasons fade in and out like soft lullabies, their transitions slow but never faltering. Like mother earth herself they only turn in one direction, always onward and never back as the wax and wane of the pace of city life changes.

In summer, everyone is high in energy, all systems go. With the first wash of autumn air, moving over the high-rises and suburbia like a shallow wave, the people slow down to a quieter pace.

The winter is flatter still, but never falling into a negative spin, the folks of this city love the snow too much for that.

Then spring comes to wake the metropolis: people, trees, and blooms. Folks walk under newly unfurled leaves, smile at the fresh new flowers, and tilt their faces upward to the new warmth in the sun's rays.

Soon summer is back and the seasonal carousel is complete for another year.

All those seasons he had spent with her, he cherished them the most in his heart and held it dearly like a gift given to him. He kept the memories and spent his life with her during those past months.

Here come the drops, soft and steady, falling from a sky of white velvet. They come all together and yet as pioneers. And though he is soon quite wet, he stood idly in front, letting the drops blurred his vision.

They stood at the front of the funeral. Everyone's heads were down. Maybe it was them showing respect or maybe they were too afraid to look at what was coming. The coffin was pulled from the hearse by six strong men, all wearing suits. The silence dwelled as they exited the church. It wobbled as they carried it to the front and gently placed it down.

The coffin was dark stained cherry and it was perfectly polished. It had a cushioned and silky lining. Struggling to hold back the grief, tears flow steadily. Silently down the immobile face, a feeling of ache swarmed within him. The numbness and emptiness remained as they walked behind the mahogany coffin— the soul unwilling to acknowledge the finality of death, never to look upon her face again or feel her embrace. To see the warmth in her eyes, or be surrounded by her love.

Words from the minister, speeches at the service bring a fresh onslaught of tears, well-spoken words, a tribute to her life and love, everyone in black, dusky pink roses on the casket; they all watched the casket lowered into the grave through tear-stained eyes.

One by one they all left, leaving him alone standing in her grave, as he cried his goodbye to his love.

—

A dove was soaring in the sky, fluttering its wings in the air as Venti watched it fly over to him. In its feet was a paper rolled and clutched onto it. When it landed on his lap, he gently took the item from the bird and unfolded it.

His emerald eyes scanned over the writing, taking in each word inside his head.

Dear Venti,

Happy birthday! I’m sure there are many things that make you sad. You may be crumbling under the weight of your responsibilities. But don’t give in.

Even if you’re so lonely that it makes you cry, please don’t forget that I’ll always love you.

A lone tear dropped on the paper as his cheeks were stained wet from reading the letter he had received. He brought it close to his chest as if it were her that he loved holding so dear.

Four years passed by, and the fourth later had arrived.

Dear Venti,

Happy birthday! I love you with my aura, placing it about you like the deepest star-filled sky. Space and time have no meaning for my love, it has always been boundless and eternal. It is a love that self-sustains through even the meanest of winters, its own heat, and light is the warmth, the hope.

Even if you were cold to the core, I would wake you like the spring wakes the flower and watch you grow, watch you bloom. Everything that I am is yours… All I ask is to take care of yourself in the same way you would care for a person you love completely, in the same way, I love you.

The twelfth letter was delivered.

Dear Venti,

Happiest birthday, love! I love you so very much sweetheart. I have a hard time explaining how I feel. I have never felt anything like this before. You are always there for me no matter what.

You are the most loving, caring, compassionate, and absolutely most incredible person that I have ever met. Thank you for always being there, for the flowers— they are beautiful, for your kind words, hugs, kisses, and unconditional love. I have never in my life been so very happy. I feel much loved, beautiful, and very happy.

I'm so proud of you. You are a very strong person. It is really amazing that we are strong for each other in different ways. We truly understand each other and feel for each other. When you hurt, I hurt. When you are happy, I'm happy. I just love you so much and I never want to lose you. I give you my heart, my love, and my life for now and forever.

I love you.

He always waits for each year for his birthday to come, for her letters to be delivered to him. The messages were getting longer and longer as every year passed and even the past memorandum he had received, he still kept it with him.

Happy birthday, love! I hope you know that it’s okay to cry once in a while. Whenever you're anxious or afraid, always remember I’ll always be here. I love you more than life itself. There are no words I can say to truly tell you how much I really love you.

I want to thank you that you were the reason I stayed strong even if I was sick. I learn more and more from you every day. My heart is forever yours. I know saying, "I love you" is powerful, yet I feel it's not enough.

You give me the most amazing feelings inside. It feels great to actually love and be loved in return. I love you so much, I wish I could repeat it to you so many times.

Please remember, I’ll always and forever be watching over you.

Now here he was at the hands of the Statue, watching the skies move as the dove once again landed on his shoulder. His eyes caught on the sight of the dandelion seeds soaring past as a smile tugged his lips.

He remembered [Name]’s wish for him when they were out here to blow the seeds away late at night. So every time he sees a dandelion up above in this statue, it reminds him of her and he’s here to fulfill it.

—

“Welcome back.” Jean greeted from the office as Aether placed the stack of letters on the table. “That’s a lot of letters.” Kaeya whistled in amusement and ran his fingers on it to feel the scratchy and thick envelopes.

“They’re letters set to be delivered to Venti over the next fifty years.” He announced and stretched his arms to relieve the cramps formed in his limbs. Lisa almost spitted on her tea and gawked at him in surprise.

“F-fifty years? No wonder why you wrote so much.” She set down her cup and grabbed a napkin to wipe her lips.

“Were you alright?” The Acting Grandmaster asked in worry. Aether and Paimon nodded as they smiled. “It was no biggie for us.”

“I must say this is a wonderful idea,” Kaeya remarked and grabbed a stack of it to feel the weight on his hands. “I’m already excited to see them delivered every year.”

“Me too, but…” Their chattering ceased as their focus went on his face which had his cheek dripped with liquid. It was surprising to see the traveler cry in front of them, though they didn't dare open their mouths to point it out.

“By the time they are, [Name] will already be gone and she’s still so young— so quick to get lonely, will have been left by the one he loves so much.” Crying is natural and strong for it belongs to those with the courage to show their vulnerable self, and this was none other than Aether himself.

He recalled the day he saw both of them snuck out from the Cathedral. He didn’t mean to watch them, but he knew how both of them cared for each other so much and their love for one another just by observing [Name]’s words written on the letters and Venti’s affectionate yet protective hold on her.

He understood how Venti felt. He knows the feeling of losing someone you love so dearly. The bard already told him about his history with his friend from long ago and now that it was recurring again, it aches his heart to know he’ll lose someone again.

It’s like history is repeating itself.

“He’ll be all alone again. I…” He balled his fists and closed his eyes tightly. The tears trickled down his face as he sobbed quietly. The members of the Knights approached him and rubbed his back to comfort him.

“I was fighting back tears the entire time I was there.”

“Yes, but Aether,” Lisa lifted his face and looked at him with gentle eyes. “He will receive the letters you’ve assisted [Name] writing in.” He wiped his tears and eyed the envelopes with lustrous vision.

“Besides, no matter how far apart they may be…

loved ones will always watch over you.”

heavily inspired by violet evergarden

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact venti x reader #venti x reader #venti #genshin impact venti #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact fanfictions #genshin x reader #aether #elliwrites #venti angst

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bqstqnbruin · 3 years

Text

I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call

OK so here we are with the penultimate part! BIG MASSIVE THANK YOU to the absolute loves of my life @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys and @fratboytj for helping me write this because I am a dumpster fire of a human and this would still be unfinished had it not been for them 💛💛💛

Hope you like it!

Read the whole series: I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

---------

“This right here is our issue!”

“I don’t care. You need to leave.”

---------------

You and Evelina were leaving for Los Angeles the next day, the presentation not quite done yet as your boss bombarded both of you with texts asking for updates while you were just trying to relax at home after what had been a stressful week of work. The two of you had turned into gremlins as soon as you came home, hair tied back, sweatshirts on, hoods up, facing each other while sitting cross-legged on your living room floor, typing faster than you probably needed to every time your boss sent a new suggestion.

“Does he really think adding in a transition between these two slides is going to do anything? Like, there are no other animations in the entire presentation, why these two slides?” you huff, pushing the fly-away hair out of your face as you look to Evelina, hunched over her laptop with her computer screen illuminating her face.

Your phones continue buzzing as you try to put the finishing touches on your laptops. “Whatever this man is smoking, I need some to deal with him,” Evelina mutters. You look up from your computer, questioning the statement that just came out of her mouth. “What?” she asks, “Don’t act like you wouldn’t, too.”

“I’m texting him and telling him we’re going to stop for the night and talk with him in person about it tomorrow at the airport and on plane,” you tell her, setting your computer down next to you. You lay down on the floor, stretching your body out with your hands over your head, your toes pointed, groaning so loud you practically scream as your phone lays silently next to you.

“Have you heard from Matthew?” Evelina asks, breaking the silence that was normally broken by texts from him.

You shake your head, sitting up again. “Not a word.”

“Have you tried to talk to him?”

You take in a deep breath, closing your eyes as you pick up your laptop again. “Nope. Nothing posted on our stories on Instagram or Snapchat in a week, no texts, no calls, no Facetimes, our streak gone on Snap. We’re both radio silent,” you start, trying to fight back the tears that you knew were coming. This was for the best, maybe. You didn’t need to be preoccupied with the idea of liking someone that was just going to hurt you. He was only meant to be your friend. Your best friend.

“I’m sorry, babe,” she says, turning her head. A small piece of paper under your couch catches her eye, stretching to see what it was. “What is this? ‘For Ev and Hg’ Who’s Hg?”

“I think that’s me,” you say, reaching for the card, Matthew’s messy writing scrawled across the small paper. It must have fallen off the box that had the jerseys in it, you figure.

“That’s not right,” she says, pulling a laugh from you.

“Matthew calls me that: Hg is the chemical symbol for mercury, coming from hydrargyrum, the Latinized form of the Greek word hydrargyros, which means water-silver. Mercury stops oxygen from reaching the brain and it drives you crazy. He’s saying that I drive him crazy,” you explain, a sad smile on your face as you play with the card, curling the corners of it slightly just so you had something to do.

“That is surprisingly smart and cute for him,” Evelina gushes, a sudden wave of sadness washing over her. “I think this is my fault,” she admits.

“What?”

“Matthew not talking to you. Matthew knowing about the list.” You stare at her, not sure what to say. What was she talking about? “I told him about it the night you started it.”

“What the fuck?” you scream, “That’s the reason we had this whole fight in the first place. That’s why we aren’t talking right now. Ev, you ruined my friendship with Matthew!”

“You’ll get through it,” she tries to reassure you, unable to look at you. “Couples fight all the time.”

“We were not a couple!” you yell, standing up. “And now, because of you, we never will be.”

“Is that what you wanted?” she yells back, getting up with you as if you were about to start physically fighting. “Do you want to be a couple? Or do you just want him to be your friend? I don’t care anymore, but until you figure out what the fuck you want, you can’t fix this.”

You look down at your feet, wiggling your toes in the socks you had on. “You’re right,” you admit to her, trying to stay as calm as you could. “But why did you have to tell him about that list? What do you think it’s like to find out that someone you care about has been keeping something like this from you?” You stand there quietly for a minute, neither of you sure what to say to the other. “I’m going to go to my room,” you say, finally breaking the silence, “Just, don’t bother me for a little bit, ok?” You don’t let her answer, picking up your computer from the floor and retreating to your room to lock yourself in for the time being.

Evelina sits down on the floor, trying to figure out what she can do. This was her fault. Or was it yours? She had suggested the list, but you were the one who went along with it. She made the bet, but you wouldn’t drop it. She wanted you to be with Matthew, but you have been fighting it no matter what everyone else tells you.

She shakes her head, picking up her computer, a reminder from her calendar coming up in the top corner: Flames @ Kings, 7:00 p.m. Friday. Staples Center. With all this bullshit, would you even still want to go to the game? Evelina pulls up her phone, hearing loud music coming from your room, thankful that you wouldn’t be able to hear her conversation.

“I can see on her Spotify that she’s playing the playlist we entitled “depressed bitch” when she broke up with her last boyfriend and I can’t stand to see her like this. Why did you have to bring up the list?” Evelina barks into her phone.

“Why did you have to have Y/N start the list in the first place?” Matthew’s voice comes through on the other end. “With no list, then we wouldn’t be in this fucked up mess in the first place. You’re the reason I’m not talking to her.”

She knew he was taking his anger out on her. And he’s right, as much as she hated to admit it. “I know it’s my fault,” she says, begrudgingly, “which is why I’m trying to fix this. She cried for five hours after you left last week. She did not sleep for two days and I think the only reason she did was because our boss is an exhausting jackass. It’s because of you and me, and she’s made her peace with me as far as I can tell. I need you back in the picture.”

“Why?”

“Matthew,” Evelina groans, hating that she had to explain her reasoning to him, “you’re good for her. You’re good to her. You listen to her. You hear her. From the moment you met her, you were absolutely infatuated with her.”

“Yeah.”

“So why haven’t you talked to her in a week?”

She hears him let out a deep sigh, swearing she could hear him sniffle as if he were crying. “Because I’m in love with her. I love Y/N. And I know that the more I try to pull her back to me, the harder she’s going to push away.”

“Why do you love her?” Evelina asks, grabbing her computer, an idea popping into her head as she balances her phone between her shoulder and her ear, pulling up a blank document.

He scoffs, starting, “Her way of relaxing herself is by ranting about obscure facts that no sane person would actually care enough to read, let alone commit to memory. And she absolutely lights up when she tells you this stuff. She has this, this soft smile that still somehow reaches her eyes when she’s talking. At the end of her rant she makes that face where she scrunches her nose because she thinks it’s embarrassing that she just spewed all those facts to you.”

“Keep going,” Evelina instructs him, her fingers flying over her keyboard as he talks.

“Are you typing?”

“I’m working on...work. Keep going, I’m listening,” she says fast, hoping that he wouldn’t question her.

“I like how she dresses, and I know you think she doesn’t have good style but hear me out: she dresses how she’s comfortable. She doesn’t dress up often because it’s not something she wants to do so it’s not something she does do. But, fuck, when I see her dressed up in the slightest, she looks beautiful. She looks great in anything she wears.”

Evelina couldn’t help but smile as she continued to type, not even needing to egg Matthew on to keep spilling his guts to her, his voice getting more confident with everything he listed. “Have you ever noticed how she doesn’t hold a pen correctly? What was it, her grandmother taught her to write outside of school so when she went to school and already knew her teachers saw that so they didn’t focus on her and catch that she was holding it wrong? So now she’s constantly playing with it to distract herself from that fact, which makes no sense, but whatever. And she has ink all over her hands all the time because she keeps twirling it between her fingers and dropping it.”

“She’ll joke that it’s ‘abstract art.’” Evelina cuts in, both of them laughing.

“Come on, even you love that. She’s so stubborn. Once she gets any idea in her head, she won’t give it up because she knows she’s right. It drives me crazy.”

“Mercury,” Evelina mutters.

“What was that?”

“We found the card that you wrote with the jerseys,” she explains, peeling her shoulder away from her face and holding the phone with her hand for a moment, “You call her Mercury because she drives you crazy.”

Matthew stays silent for a moment, forgetting that you were supposed to see him in Los Angeles against the Kings that Friday. “Are you still coming to that?”

“You mean is she still coming with me?” He doesn’t answer again, leaving Evelina to fill the empty space in the conversation. “I’m going to try to get her there. I want her there. And I know she wants to be there, too.”

“I remember the night we met,” Matthew says, changing subjects, not wanting to think about the possibility of not seeing you at that game, “it was just a normal night out with the guys and then two girls who we hadn’t seen before walked in. And normally we wouldn’t think anything of it, but,” he exhales, “I don’t know. The entire energy of the bar changed. All of us felt it. And then the two of you walked up to us. You were fucking annoying,” he jokes, earning a scoff from Evelina.

“Watch yourself Tkachuk, don’t make me mad right now.”

Rolling his eyes, even though he knew she couldn't see him, he continues, “The guys loved you immediately, it was like you had known them for years the way you fit in. But then there was Y/N. She’s your exact opposite: you were this loud force of nature but she was quiet. There was just something about her that I had to get to know her. I knew she was different around people she’s comfortable with and I just had to be one of those people. Couldn’t even tell you why.”

Matthew keeps talking, Evelina typing as he keeps telling her about his feelings. In a lull in your music, you can hear her laugh from your room, thinking to yourself that you were glad at least one of you was having fun with whatever it was they were doing. You finally sit up, having been sprawled on your back on your bed staring at your ceiling trying to think of something, anything that wasn’t Matthew. You look around your room, trying to ground yourself from the pain you felt from not hearing from him, not wanting to reach out to him to begin with. You see your computer on your dresser, forgetting that you put it there once you got to your room, getting up to put something on from Hulu.

Out of the corner of your eye, in the reflection of your mirror, you see a black sleeve sticking out from the rest of the clothing that was hanging on the back of your door. You put your computer on your desk, flipping through the clothing to see what it was. You pull it off whatever hanger it was on, a wool winter pea coat, definitely not yours.

Because it was Matthew’s. When you first met him, you were so comfortable around each other. You could go over his place with ease, not feeling awkward when you fell asleep on his shoulder while watching a movie, feeling completely normal when you woke up the next morning and used his bathroom as if it were your own, eventually keeping some stuff there for when you did stay over, no matter how little use it served you the night after the charity event.

He was the same at your place. He has stuff around your room everywhere, you never really blinking an eye at the pair of his sweatpants and the tshirt that were somewhere in your drawers for when he slept over. Not even a year ago, he left in the sweatshirt, the coat he wore the night before left on the couch without you realizing it, making its home on the back of your door only to get shuffled right up against the wood as you hung more and more clothing in front of it.

You walk over to your bed, not taking your eyes off the coat. You sit down on your bed, hearing some sort of jingling sound from somewhere in the coat. Digging through the pockets, you can feel something metal in the front right one, a piece of paper poorly folded around it. Should you be going through the pockets of someone else's coat?

Who cared at this point? You take out the contents of the pocket: a key and a receipt. Your heart was racing, having a feeling about what both of these things meant. The receipt was dated the night you went out to the bar when you moved to Calgary, the night you met Matthew and the rest of the boys. Matthew’s name was on the bottom signaling that it was his, a few drinks circled by who you assumed was him.

Those were the drinks he bought for you that night, the drinks he would always ask you if you wanted befor you could get a word in first, ‘vodka sour = lemon,’ and something else you couldn’t quite make out written on the side. The next time you were out with them, a vodka sour was the drink he bought you because you told him you liked lemon but hadn’t found a drink that you liked with it in it. That was the drink he bought you the night of the charity event.

On the back of the receipt, again in Matthew’s handwriting, ‘my home is your home, Y/N.’ In your hand was a key, with a lemon charm hanging off of it.

It was a key to his apartment.

You couldn’t begin to fathom the emotions that washed over you in that moment, knowing that he was going to give you his key, probably before you even thought of giving him one for your place. Fuck, you didn’t even give him one, Evelina did. You didn’t even think about it, and there he was, a key for you, planned out, thoughtful, meaningful. You felt like crying because of sweet it was.

You pick up your phone, pulling up Matthew’s contact to call him. Your finger hovers over the button. All you had to do was press the button, and you would talk to him for the first time in a week. Before you can tell yourself no, you hit the button, a picture of the two of you coming up on your screen, ‘Matthew, calling,’ rolling over your phone in bold white text.

You didn’t even know what you were going to say, holding the phone to your ear. Actually, you knew what you wanted to say, hearing the phone ring, and ring, and ring. It wouldn’t stop ringing.

It was a sign. One that you shouldn’t be calling him, hanging up immediately and blocking his number so that he can’t try to call you back. If you were meant to be with him, then he would have answered when you wanted to talk to him most. He would have called you first.

Every emotion you felt turned into anger. You wanted him to call you. You wanted him to be there for you, because if this were happening with another guy, Matthew would be the one sitting there on the bed with you talking you down when this hypothetical man didn’t answer.

“Mother fucker!” you scream, throwing the key against your door, letting it drop to the ground, wishing it was smashed.

Evelina hears you, hoping that the conversation with Matthew would end soon so that she can go check on you when he says, “What about how she’s always so quick with her chirps? I have never met someone who’s so fast with a comeback. She’s better than any guy in the NHL. Better than anyone,” Matthew says, still on the phone with Evelina, his voice getting quiet. “Better than anyone,” he repeats himself.

“I’ve known Y/N’s last two boyfriends and between her and Thomas recounting the high school boyfriend, I feel like I knew the third,” she says, partially regretting bringing up Thomas’s name, “You really love her?”

“Haven’t I said that already?” he snaps.

“Yes, but I want you to say it again. She is my best friend and has had plenty of people say that they are in love with her. You’re the first one she’s been in love with back, though.”

Matthew’s breath hitches at those words. If Evelina was saying it about you, then it had to be true he figured. “Of course I do.”

“Ok,” is all Evelina can say, leaving the two of them in silence for a few seconds.

“Uh, bye, I guess,” Matthew says, hoping the awkward silence that fell between them would end.

“I’ll text you later about something. Bye,” Evelina hangs up the phone, letting out a long sigh before getting off the floor. Wandering to your room, she knocks on your door, waiting for any sign of life from you to tell her she could come in. “What is this?” she asks after stepping on the key, handing it back to you, plopping herself down on your bed..

“Matthew was going to give me a key to his apartment,” you tell her, waving it around in the air.

“When?” You shrug, honestly not sure how long ago the coat was left there, not sure how long it had been in his pocket in the first place. “I need to ask you something,” she says.

Not really paying attention, that stupid key in your hand, you answer her anyway, “What?”

“Do you like him?”

“Him who?”

Evelina rolls her eyes at you, telling you who even though she really didn’t need to. “Matthew.”

“Of course I do. He’s my best friend besides you.”

“Do you love him?”

“Why hasn’t he called?” you ask, quietly, her instead.

Evelina sighs, “He probably wants to give you space,” she tells you, even though she knows the real answer. “He just wants you to go to him when you’re ready. You know he would never push you to do something you don’t want to.”

The two of you sit there in silence for a moment, neither of you sure what to say. Would Matthew want you to reach out first? If he did, why didn’t he answer the phone just now? “Y/N,” Evelina presses, you knowing that she wanted you to respond to the question you intentionally left unanswered.

You pick up the receipt that was beside you, the key still in your hand, wondering how he could have thought yo give you the key before you even thought about it yourself. And why did he never give it to you? “Ev. I said no. He’s just like Thomas. He loves me and I don’t feel the same way, and I’ve lost him just like I lost Thomas,” you insist.

“You didn’t lose him,” she tries to reassure you. “This is going to work out.”

“How do you know that, Ev? He means everything to me. You and him are the two people outside of my family that I care the most about. What does it say about our friendship that we get into some stupid fight and now we don’t talk for a week?”

“Y/N,” she lets out a small laugh, “He loves you.”

You shake your head, swallowing hard as you turn the key over in your hand for what felt like the thousandth time. “If he did he would be here right now. He would have called, he would have done something to show me that he cared about me.”

“Y/N,” she tries.

“No, Ev. Can we just drop it?” you beg, reaching over to your nightstand and throwing the key and receipt in the drawer. “We have to work on our presentation, we leave tomorrow, and we still need to finish packing.”

The rest of the night was spent by the two of you not saying more than monosyllabic sentences to each other while you worked on the finishing touches of your presentation, packing the last of what you needed for the trip and triing to get your mind off Matthew. You zip your bag up, satisfied that you were finished when you see the jersey Matthew gave you sitting there on your floor, in a pile of other clothing you meant to put away.

You pick it up, like you did the jacket that was now sitting on the couch, a note laying on top of it for Evelina to give it back to Matthew. Sighing, you fold up the jersey, leaving your room to go put it with the coat. You didn’t want it. You had no need for it. All you could do was let it go.

You couldn’t sleep the night, any time you closed your eyes and managed to doze off, Matthew’s image flashed through your mind. Every single memory you had with him seemed to be manifesting themselves in your dreams, unable to shake him no matter what you did.The nights you spent together on the couch watching whatever was on TV, teaching him to make your favorite cookies, even though he burned them to a crisp no matter how many times he would check the oven, the two of you going Christmas shopping for your families, buying each other the dumbest gifts you could find to see who you laugh harder. Not a single bad memory came up, besides the last time you saw him. Was everything with Matthew actually that perfect? Or were you blocking things out?

Your alarm goes off but you were already awake for it, groaning loudly prompting Evelina to come running to your room. “Are you ok?” she asks in a panic. “Babe, did you sleep at all last night?”

You didn’t even want to know how awful you looked, just hoping that you would be able to cover it up with makeup and get some semblance of sleep while on the plane even if it were only a three hour flight. “Maybe an hour?” you guess, even though you were sure that was an over exaggeration. “Whatever. We have to go get ready.” You get out of your bed and storm to the bathroom, closing the door before Evelina could even say anything.

You looked like you had been hit by a truck, hating how you came across as you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were red, the bags underneath them so rich in color they could probably be designer, your skin discolored like you were sick. You would need makeup and a miracle to fix yourself at this point.

“Y/N?” Evelina says, opening the door without you inviting her in. “I found the coat and jersey.” You make eye contact with her through the mirror, pursing your lips and nodding as you get back to putting on your makeup. “You really don’t want them?” You shake your head, swallowing hard. If you kept them, then they would tempt you to go back to him. Getting rid of them was the only thing you could do. “I put them in my room for now, ok?” You nod again, still not saying a word.

“I’m worried about you,” Evelina says. “Even with those other guys you’ve broken up with, they have never left you this broken.”

“I’m over it. I’m just tired.”

“We both know you’re lying about this. You know how you feel. You know that you’re in love with him, you always have been.”

You put your makeup down on the counter, staring at the powder in it’s container. “I can’t say it.”

Evelina takes a step back. “What?” she asks, surprised by your response.

“Thomas said he loved me, and that was it. The friendship was over and we haven’t seen him in years. If I say it to Matthew, if I admit it at all, then it’s going to be done. It already is done and I never said it.”

Evelina could feel her heart breaking, trying everything she could not to start crying in front of you, worrying that it would set you off as well. “You know that’s not true.”

“I do in my head, but not in my heart,” you say, letting out a laugh, “That sounds like something from a stupid Hallmark movie.” Evelina lets out a small laugh with you as you continue. “Can we just drop it this weekend? We just have to get through this conference. And get through a weekend with our boss.”

“Ok. I’m gonna go finish getting ready, then,” Evelina says, backing out of the bathroom.

By the time both of you are finished getting ready, your boss had texted you that you needed to be outside waiting for him in the next ten minutes when they pulled up with the car that all of you were taking. “Ok, last check. Boarding passes?” you start your list.

“Mine is the front pocket of my bag, yours are in the folder you have with your computer.”

“Passport?”

“Same places as the boarding passes for both of us.”

“Computers?”

“Side pocket of your bag, middle of my bag.”

“Chargers?”

“Somewhere in my bag I have a phone charger and a computer charger for both of us.”

You keep going through the long list, both of you knowing where the other kept everything. You freeze when you get to the last thing on the list, written in Evelina’s hand writing instead of your own. “Jerseys.”

“I have mine. Yours is in my room.”

“Good,” you say, almost completely forgetting about the game. You shake your head as if to physically shake the thought of Matthew from your mind. “Got your keys?” you ask Evelina, her waving them in your face as you grab yours, too. “Let’s go then.”

The two of you lug your stuff towards the door, opening it and ready to leave when you see him there. “Matthew?” you say, surprised to see him standing in your doorway, a bouquet of flowers in hand, a guilty expression on his face as he looked like he hadn’t slept for days. “What are you doing here?” you ask in shock, feeling your heart start to race.

“Can we talk?” he asks quietly, debating on stepping into your apartment or not.

“No. We’re leaving for the airport now, we don’t have time,” you tell him, trying to move past him.

“Come on, we need to talk,” he insists, putting his arm against the frame of your door to stop you from moving past him.

“Why should I listen to you?” you ask, looking up at him.

“Because I love you.”

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #calgary flames #calgary flames imagine #flames #flames imagines #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines

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holycow99 · 3 years

Text

石田お寿司 12/9/21 stream translation Part 1

This is not the full translation of the stream. I only translated the parts I could understand & interpret or parts I found interesting/important. I’m still a beginner in Japanese, so the translations may not be accurate. If you want to repost, please repost at your own risk.

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I: Hello. Can you hear me? Good night. (t/n: He’s replying to a comment.) You can hear me? Hello. Welcome.

I: My tone sounds great today, ***-kun? (t/n: OP commented that his tone sounds great.) Of course I’ll be excited in the beginning of the stream. But only in the beginning.

C: Your voice somehow sounds young.

I: It’s because I just slept.

*Typing on twitter

I: I finally did it. This is a simultaneous worldwide stream. Do you understand it? Ah, I’m so tired. I’m tired of sleeping.

I: I’ll be drinking my coffee. Itadakimasu.

I: It was a long vacation, wasn’t it? When was the last time you guys heard from me? On September…Well, it doesn’t matter.

I: I don’t have anything particular to do for this stream. I just felt like it.

C: I’ve been listening to your streams repeatedly during holiday.

I: Thank you.

C: We last heard from you at the end of August.

I: I see. Thanks.

C: Thank you for your hard work on the manuscript!

I: I did the rough sketches first. I was brainstorming.

*Someone commented on Animal Rap.

I: Animal rap? I actually wanna try this. Actually, I’ve done recording for one video, but won’t it be scary if suddenly in the middle of the stream, animal rap video is uploaded. Without saying anything, suddenly there’s a new animal rap video being uploaded. Won’t it be scary stream?

(t/n: I’m not sure if the translations for this part is correct. He said something more but I haven’t reached this level of Japanese understanding skill. Forgive me.)

C: Animal rap itself is scary, so it’s okay.

I: What a hilarious thing to say. Are you actually afraid of animal then?

C: Have you got vaccinated?

I: Nope, since I’ve been locked up in my house. I want to though. I want to get injected a lot. Around 10 times.

C: Sensei, did you read Berserk chapter 364?

I: Is it the final chapter?

Y****: Let’s inject the head.

I: Nice one, Y****. Well, since Y**** is an introvert at school, he must be a non-popular kid. Because he doesn’t have any friends, he can’t wait to meet me. Is it like that? Hahahaha.

I: I’m not even aware of the things happening around me. I don’t even know when the exhibition in Osaka will open. I want you guys to tell me about me.

C: I’m aiming to be a mangaka, but having someone that can be a mentor for me to learn from is better, as expected?

I: I don’t think so. It depends. In some degree, it’s better to do it by yourself. If you really wanna write a manga and you wanna create an environment that allows you to do so, if there’s a chance to be an assistant, I think it’s better for you to grab it. Because you’re still not familiar with how these things work. I think it’s better to be an assistant first. You don’t have to be one for a long time though.

C: I want to diet. Where should I start?

I: Record your weight. Measure your weight and record it in calendar. Doing that makes you feel conscious about your weight. You’ll probably can lose weight that way.

C: Are you still eating oatmeal?

I: I’ve been eating Onigiri only.

C: I wanna change job, but I’m anxious to because of the economic situation. Please encourage me!

I: It’s better for you to change job, since you said you wanted to. I think everyone is anxious. There’s no one who isn’t.

C: I’m happy that the JJ illustration that you posted on twitter will be made into goods!

I: Yeah, without my permission. Hahaha. When the illustration was made into goods without my permission, I was like “Eh? This is…”. I’ll stop talking about this. Hahaha. I won’t talk about this.

*Someone commented about Kingdom exhibition.

I: I wanna go to the Kingdom exhibition.

I: What I said just now (about JJ illustration) was a lie. Please forget about it. Are there companies like that? Of course not. I was just joking. If that’s the case, then anybody can freely turn my illustrations into goods. Though there’s a person who sent me the PugMax t-shirt.

C: I wanted to be a mangaka when I was small. As I got older, I only immersed myself in the real world. I’ll be a civil servant starting from next year. I don’t have the courage to challenge myself, so I want to give my unconditional support to those who are.

I: I don’t know how old you are, but you can still draw even if you become a civil servant. Just draw one if you really want to.

C: You have to collect royalty.

I: I do get royalty. I get 5 yen in total.

C: How old will you be this year?

I: 250,000 years old.

C: How are you?

I: Like usual. But I made progress on the manuscript, so I’m relieved. I kinda forgot how to draw it.

C: I thought you were in your 30s.

I: Nope, I’m far older.

C: You haven’t started game streaming?

I: I’m haven’t decided yet for today.

*People were discussing about his age.

I: Doesn’t matter how old I am.

C: Do you prefer women with long hair or short hair?

I: Short hair.

*People commented about Heavy Rain.

I: Oh, you want to see me playing Heavy Rain? I’m okay with that. I’m okay with playing games or anything. I’ll be a yes-man for today. Everyone’s yes-man & toy, Ishida Osushi.

*Someone commented about Animal Rap again.

I: I wanted to say something about this. I’ve done the animal rap video. I only upload videos I’ve received from the animal themselves, not me. But I was afraid to upload it, so I refrained from doing so. I wanna try uploading the video while streaming. That’s what I wanted to say. Well, it doesn’t really matter. I just upload it after I finish streaming. I don’t understand the need to upload the video and streaming at the same time.

(t/n: He said something more, but again, info on Animal rap is hard for me to decipher. I’m really sorry.)

C: What did you watch recently?

I: Movies.

C: There were people who got scared by the fact that Ishida Sui raps.

I: No, you’re wrong. Ishida Sui doesn’t rap. Ishida Sui doesn’t do streaming as well.

C: Do mangakas have the chance to meet women?

I: It depends on the person. The ones who’re locked up in the house won’t. But…That’s right. You might if the workplace has mixed genders. You also have the chance to meet people during party or some sort. I’ll always be at the corner every time I go to parties. It’d be nice if the party was fun and the staffs could enjoy themselves. I also said that I went to parties to take a break, but I hated it.

C: You’re not going to parties?

I: Nope, I won’t. The company doesn’t hold them as well because of the current situation. Even if I did, I wouldn’t know what to do. I don’t really eat the food, and introducing myself to people is tiresome.

I: S****** is here.

S******: Ishida Osushi can become a pro mangaka.

I: I’m aiming for it.

C: Fukuoka suits you, sensei.

I: Somehow, I feel grateful. It’s like you’re telling me that it’s okay for me to live in Kyushu.

(t/n: Kyushu is an island where Fukuoka is located.)

C: Sir Osushi, what do you think of Sir Sui?

I: I have a murderous intent towards him.

C: Does the thumbnail hold any meaning?

I: It does. Look forward to it.

C: Being a streamer suits you (Osushi) better than being a mangaka.

I: Hahaha.

C: The drawings of Neji (JJ character) by Ms. Towada were wonderful!

I: That’s right. Neji drawn by Ms. Towada. I want you guys to tell me something like this. I want you guys to tell me about my current situation. Things like, “would you retweet this?”, “This is JJ’s…”, “The CD’s also…”. Let me change my twitter account. First is Ms. Towada, right? Let’s retweet Ms. Towada’s tweets. I thought of drawing something like this. She drew quite a lot. She drew him more than me. I feel bad having her to draw it. I feel grateful rather than feeling bad. She drew a lot of them. Yonaga’s illustration looks nice. I see… There’s like an incomplete rough drawing. I thought of copying and drawing that illustration. I’ll just retweet this. Tell me what should I retweet next.

C: Is Ms.Towada doing well as well?

I: I talked to her a few days ago.

I: Do read Fool Night.

C: Do you like Aespa? (t/n: Aespa is a kpop girl group. Ishida had drawn one of the members.)

I: The girl caught my attention. I thought she was beautiful.

*Someone commented about his illustration of Ano-chan. (t/n: Ano-chan is a Japanese singer. Ishida had come to her radio programme once, and he did the album cover for her latest album.)

I: Ano-chan! What happened to that? Have you seen the album cover? It’s already out?

*Someone commented about Fool Night.

I: The world in Fool Night is super amazing. It was quite a while ago, the person in charge of the Superior magazine watched one of my streams and asked me if I could write some comments. I was like “Don’t tell me that!” (referring to watching his stream). I hate being seen. But then, I was like “whatever.” I usually turned it down, but I just wrote for this one.

*Someone commented about Wooma (t/n: an illustrator.)

I: Who’s Wooma? Let me check it.

C: Sensei, I’m a good child. So, is it okay for me to sleep?

I: Yes, of course.

C: Sensei, do you smoke?

I: No.

I: Ah, Wooma is the illustrator for the song ‘Usseewa’. Sorry for the lack of knowledge.

C: Do you watch Christopher Nolan’s works?

I: I’m not that familiar with movies, but I may or may not watch it. I’ve been getting into movies lately. I searched for the movies Takahashi Kunimitsu told me about. You tend to watch anything when you’re obsessed with movies, right? I was also obsessed with history for a while after I learned how fun it was from Takahashi Kunimitsu. I’ve been reading 2-3 books on history a day lately.

C: Until what time are you gonna stream?

I: Today is infinite as well. We have another 12 minutes left. Haha. I’ll keep on streaming today. I won’t end the stream today. It may end tomorrow. (t/n: He definitely kept his words.)

C: Sensei, do you like itzy? (t/n: Itzy is another kpop girl group, and Ishida had also drawn one of the members.)

I: Yes.

I: Tomorrow is a holiday? There are people who are not working tomorrow.

C: What are you drinking?

I: Coffee.

C: You only need another 800 people to reach 30,000 subscribers.

I: Yeah. It’s gonna reach 30,000. I have to make an appreciation stream or video for 30,000 subscribers. A lot of youtubers are doing this, so I have to do it too. I wanna do it. Feels like a youtuber. Isn’t it fun? I wonder what should I do for it? What would be fun? Let’s go with this concern first. I get lost if I don’t go one-by-one. It’s one of my bad habits.

*They’re planning on what Ishida should do when he reaches 30,000 subscribers.

C: Show your nails.

I: I don’t do manicure.

C: Heavy Rain.

I: Wanna play Heavy Rain as well.

C: Please let us hear your sneeze.

I: There is such person sometimes. Creepy.

C: Why don’t you play Ghosts n Goblins for now?

I: After the stream, I felt like playing the game. They had something like magical clock, though I forgot the name. The one that double the speed of the game. I really wanted to play that, honestly. Though, it wasn’t suitable for streaming. I thought of playing it in my own time. I really like that kind of games.

C: Will you sing when you reach 30,000?

I: During the previous silent stream, Queen Bee’s song was playing. Those who watched may know. I thought of appearing for a moment and sing and then end the stream. I wouldn’t do it, but I just thought about it. At that time, I wanted to try having just an illustration stream.

C: I’m waiting for an autograph session after the Corona ends.

I: The pandemic probably won’t end for at least 2-3 years.

*Someone wanted him to sing Gaston’s song.

I: Gaston. Singing, huh? Hahaha, why am I having second thoughts? I thought I’m okay with anything.

C: how about a karaoke battle?

I: Karaoke battle, huh?

C: Do you have any piercings?

I: I’m not wearing one right now, but I do have it. (t/n: I didn’t expect him to have a piercing. He’s really different than what I imagined a mangaka to be. XD)

C: I’m hoping for JJ’s song covers!

I: JJ? JJ’s songs are difficult. It was super hard during the time I did the covers. Seriously, when I heard it back…The cover for the opening theme was scary. I thought my singing ability had increased since I recorded this one the last. A few months ago, I listened to it after a long time, it was…what should I call it? A sutra, no, a curse. Me and JJ’s opening theme. I forgot the title of the song. Jack and something. There were parts in the songs where the female and male characters had to harmonise. To convey that part, I had to cover the song multiple times. I multiplied into 7 people, since I had to record as Kisa as well. When I was recording Kisa’s part, the other version of me at the back, probably Kai, was harmonising with me. I was told to deepen my voice by Mr.Kasama. So embarrassing. The voice was really low. I was drawn by Mr. Kasama’s voice. His voice was really good when he said ‘Broccoli’ for the cm.

*Ishida imitating Mr. Kasama.

I: It’s cooler than this.

*Imitating him once again.

I: I was like “So cool!”

C: Invite the animals that appeared in Animal rap as guests.

I: That’s a good idea. But what would the guests be doing? It’s absolutely hard to do that. It’s hard to invite the animals because of corona.

C: The title is “Jack & Jeanne of Quartz”.

I: Right. Thank you.

C: Won’t you invite Hanae?

I: I won’t. That’s impossible. (t/n: I want to see him playing horror games with Hanae Natsuki.)

Part 2

#ishida sui #tokyo ghoul #jack jeanne #choujin x #chojin x #ishida sushi channel

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linkemon · 3 years

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Hinata Shōyō x Reader (selfship)

Selfship made for cekoladowyjogalik on Wattpad. She let me choose a character to write for ^^

Friendly reminder that English is not my first languge. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here.

✲ You and Shoyo have known each other since kindergarten and went to Karasuno together. He absolutely adored you when you were little. Nothing has changed in this regard.

✲ As a child, he made crooked flower wreaths for you. He asked his mother to teach him specifically to make you happy.

You also exchanged friendship bracelets. You still keep them in boxes in your rooms.

✲ Sometimes you just need a moment for yourself. That boy is full of energy and is everywhere. He sometimes forget that you need to rest. He needs to be reminded of this all the time.

✲ You are used to frequent chit-chats about volleyball. Beloved sport takes up a lot of space in Hinata's head. You are taken to every possible game except his official ones. He prefers when you're away because he's too stressed that he'll mess up something in front of your eyes but is ashamed to tell you about it.

✲ Shoyo admires your interests. Especially drawing. He always looks over your shoulder when you create. He says the art is great as soon as you draw anything (even if it's just a sketch).

✲ He is the complete opposite of you when it comes to organizing things. You complement each other perfectly in this regard.

You help him with his studies because he often does not remember that there was homework. In return, he pulls you out to do spontaneous things together. He will take your hand and go play a volleyball with random people.

✲ You bought him a calendar with famous volleyball players so that he would stop forgetting about everything and sort out his plans.

He gave you a soft jumper in your favourite color. Yachi had to help him because he didn't know what size you were wearing. He was very proud of himself because you wear it a lot at home.

✲ Hinata is perfect for you. He is a wonderful friend before being a wonderful boyfriend. He supports you in everything you do and is always ready to listen to you.

✲ That boy had a lot of trouble confessing his feelings. He did it spontaneously. He was sweating all over, and he couldn't express himself: Near you my heart is going boom, boom and I feel so... wow, it's impossible to describe!

✲ Before his first date, he spent the morning on the toilet as always when he is nervous. It was even worse than before the big games.

You went to an amusement park together. The carousel and petting zoo were your favourite attractions. Shoyo pretended to be animals to make you laugh. He was particularly good at imitating monkeys.

✲ Team Karasuno absolutely couldn't believe that their shrimp had found a girlfriend. Especially since you don't flaunt your relationship. Nothing much has really changed except that you walk hand in hand and kiss his cheek. Hinata is not ready for more. His poor heart wouldn't take it.

✲ He wants to know about your worries. Shoyo knows that you like keeping them to yourself but will also try to get something out of you:

Do you want to talk?

Not yet?

...

How about now?

He will try to cheer you up. He'll buy a big tub of ice cream, wrap you in a blanket and play your favorite movie on TV. He really wants you to feel better again.

✲ You have good relationship with his family. Especially Natsu worships you. As for his mom, she stuffs you with food and packs leftovers to take home. She thinks you are perfect for her son, and she is happy for you two.

✲ Your three years in high school have passed quickly. You are a couple that never argue and if anything it's about small things. You can't be angry with each other. Especially since Shoyo's sadness melts your heart. You cannot imagine him without a smile.

✲ Now Hinata is a grown up. He's gotten a little more serious but deep down he's still the same positive person. You manage to keep the long-distance relationship, despite his stay in Brazil. You visit each other on every possible occasion. Whether it's a holiday or a vacation, it doesn't matter. You also chat on webcam every day. The boy is going to suggest that you move with him to this country because only six months have passed and he cannot live without you. Get ready for the festival in Rio de Janeiro, because he promised to take you there...

#hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shouyou #haikyuu x reader #haiykuu!!#selfship

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prose-for-hire · 3 years

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The Devil’s in the details

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: “Satanism for dummies? Interesting choice in books...anything you want to tell me?" And Fluff With spike

Requested by: Anon

Warning: Reader is a killer. They kill a person. For the Devil. Kidnap. Big blood mention. Mention of hiding a body.

A/N: Okay. So it’s not fluffy but I’ve injected some cuddling with Spike into it cos I got carried away with the plot. Hope this is okay anon - I got carried away. I can write you something fluffier (after Halloween) if you want to drop another request... Happy Halloween month !!

It was that time of year again. The yearly struggle where you had to offer a sacrifice to the Dark Lord again to ensure he kept his end of the bargain. Halloween night was circled and underlined in your calendar in thick red pen. Blood red. A coincidence, of course. You sighed, planning out this year’s would be tricky.

You had your boyfriend to think about and people knew you in Sunnydale now, it was hard to keep under the radar. You were practiced in what you needed to do, knowing there was no other way around it. As far as Spike was concerned, you were a sweetheart. A pure, innocent person who wouldn’t so much as look at someone the wrong way.

He was convinced you had never said a swear word and he was equally convinced you would turn to dust if you even attempted it. As far as he was aware, you knew nothing of demons or vampires or anything other than your pleasant life. And this is how you wanted it to stay.

However, Spike had long been trying to find a way to tell you about the supernatural. The Hellmouth. He didn’t want to scare you off, so he had been lying or more avoiding the truth. He wanted to tell you this year though, before Halloween.

You loved him but there were certain things that you would rather he didn’t know about you. For now at least. Especially the fact that you already knew he was a vampire. You smiled at him softly, leaning in and kissing his cheek – a greeting you always gave. He loved it, it was as if he was a husband returning home. He felt cherished by your affection. You never shied away, you wanted him to feel loved. Always.

“Can’t believe it’s been two years and I’ve never so much as had an invitation before, love”

“We did agree Spike – you have your space and I have mine”

“Yeah, but all your crap is in my space” he raised his voice an octave higher to cement his point, “Most men would have left over it, y’know” he added, pointing at you for emphasis.

“Then I’m very lucky to have such an understanding and kind boyfriend” You smiled, squeezing his hand before letting go, “God, your hands are always so cold”

“It’s my condition, love. Anaemia – always, uh, makes me cold” he muttered, not convincing anyone. But you just nodded along, smiling.

Spike had always meant to tell you but had never found the time. Besides, you had your own secrets (he wasn’t stupid he just didn’t suspect the truth) so he didn’t feel so bad about lying. Most of the time.

It was finally Halloween. You knew the drill. Spike would stay in and you would go where you were directed. You woke up to the same mysterious name written on a piece of paper you always did. It was the kind that would combust when you fulfilled your end of the bargain.

You walked up to the bar to order your drink, reading the nametag and smiling. This was getting easier every year. It almost made it difficult to feel the guilt anymore. You spent your evening talking to him, waiting until his break before you managed to subdue him and bring him back to your apartment. Usually, hitting them over the head and dragging them into the boot of your car seemed to work. Your neighbours were usually out and if anyone stopped you, you explained it was an elaborate costume.

You were sat watching a gory horror film with the volume up high as you waiting for your new bartender friend to wake up from his little nap. He was propped up on the couch beside you. You had zip tied his hands and feet but you weren’t so cruel that you would cover his mouth.

He finally started to come around as the humorous film started to get good. You shrugged, you were sure you could rent it for some light-hearted entertainment another day. They never quite got it right anyway. The blood was never the right colour.

He opened his eyes and started to yell. You hushed him and helped him regulate his breathing until he calmed down. When he eventually calmed down you explained the situation calmly, “So, listen, you’re gonna die tonight. But it’s for a really good reason so, at least there’s that” You nod along with yourself, smiling sweetly as his eyes widened in horror, “Okay I have to do a little ritual now that you’re awake just uh, stay still”

You got up, switching off the tv and lighting the red candles that had already been arranged in a circle on your coffee table. An ornate knife was in the middle of the circle. You closed your eyes, chanting some well-practiced verses. You motioned your arms slowly and you felt the warmth in the room dial up. The familiar crackle of flames started to sound around you.

You took the knife from the centre and awkwardly helped the man up, before slicing the blade across his throat. The liquid oozes from his wound and he started to sink to his knees, his blood splattering everywhere.

“Fuck, not on the rug!” You looked horrified, “What is wrong with you?! Over the chalice!” you hissed as if it was the poor man’s fault. You grabbed the chalice and held it under his neck, trying to

The man slowly lost his life as you took the most important part for yourself. His blood. You sighed, rolling your eyes at his crumpled form as his blood soaked into your now ruined rug.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on your door. Shit.

You slip your clothes off and grab the nearest items of fresh clothes so you could go to the door. In your haste, you almost slip on the pooling blood as you make your way to the door.

“What?!” you shouted, scowling at the visitor before you realised who it was, “Oh, Spike! Hi. It’s Halloween… you said you stay in on Halloween in case of the cute kids wanting candy”

“I said that-?” He questioned, before he caught a distinct smell of something he knew well. His stomach rumbled to confirm his suspicions, “What’s going on? I can smell-”

“Smell what?” You ask innocently. He squinted, before shrugging. It must be a different apartment in the block.

“Uh, nothing, can I come in?”

“I’m actually pretty busy… I’m, uh, I’m… baking” You said. Nobody, especially not yourself, was convinced by that excuse. But Spike just smiled slightly and nodded before asking once more, “Look, I need to come in. It’s… important. I gotta tell you somethin’ or my damned head will explode” he gestured at his head as he shook it, “Can I come in?” he pressed once more.

“Uh…” You look at the mess behind you that you’re concealing from his view by the door, “Just… give me time to clean the place up. I’ll be… 10 minutes” You muttered, slamming the door in his face and putting the lock on – just in case.

You clean the best you can, using so much bleach you were worried you would pass out. You sigh. Every year you tell yourself to put plastic sheeting down and every year you forget and end up ruining an item of furniture you were fond of. That was the real sacrifice you had to make, you sighed again as you rolled the poor man up in the rug and pulled him away. You found him a spot to rest in your tub. Hopefully Spike wouldn’t pick today to use the bathroom. The rug and the bleach all thrown in there too.

The blood now up the best it could be, you manage to find a roll of cookie dough to put in the oven. You sweep all of your occult stuff into a box and hid it under your bed and cram the rest into the cupboards.

You had been twenty five minutes, but hoped Spike just presumed that you were house proud.

“I like your place, pet. Spotless” he said perusing the area. He smiled, it smelled of you and… cleaning products. Bleach. Oh, and cookies he smiled. He hoped that you would let him have some later on.

They say love is blind, and Spike was completely head over heels in love with you. So much so, he could only note the smell of cookie dough and you and didn’t think to question the smell of the blood that had been thinly masked by bleach.

He then eyed something on the coffee table that you had set down during the heavy-duty cleaning, “Satanism for dummies? Interesting choice in books...anything you want to tell me?" He joked, a slight smile as he started to flip through it. You grinned back, trying to conceal the fact that you were wiping beads of sweat from your brow when he looked up by scratching your scalp.

“It’s for Halloween – they were handing them out at the… mall”

“Uh, sit down pet” he said, sitting down in the same spot your previous guest had, “I need to… there’s somethin’ I need to say” he started to explain. He had chosen now to reveal who he really was. The fact that he was a vampire. He insisted he loved you and that it wouldn’t change anything between you.

You gasp, perhaps over exaggeratedly but you were actually surprised that he would choose now to tell you. You of course knew about demons and you were unsure if he was telling you this so he could take a bite from the body in your bathroom tub.

“I mean it – I’m… a vampire” He showed you his game face, taking your shock for disbelief. You cup his cheek gently, insisting this would never make a difference. You traced your thumb over his features and he closed his eyes at your touch.

“I will always love you. No matter what” You insisted, leaving a chaste kiss against his lips. He nodded slowly, smiling at your insistence. You caressed him softly, hoping he could feel the sincerity of your actions. You honestly weren’t scared of him. Or repulsed. You felt so deeply for him. You held him close to you as he flipped on the tv. You both settled into the sofa, stroking through his hair softly as he closed his eyes and leaned into you. You kissed his temple and whispered your continued affirmations. That you would never leave him. That you could never stop loving him.

You heard something and cast an eye to the kitchen, which you could see from your living space. The familiar figure you met every Halloween was there. The Devil.

You smiled, winking at the Devil as he took his offering as if he were Santa sneaking in on Christmas night. He smirked, drinking from the cup and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He clapped his hands and left which you caught from your peripheral vision.

You smiled warmly. It was all worth it. You were satisfied as you snuggled into Spike’s now open arms, you would keep the love of an immortal for another year at least.

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wantaichi · 4 years

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karasuno as guy best friends

all platonic over here, folks.

[reuploading due to tagging problems grr]

SUGAWARA KOUSHI made you swoon the first you met him and no one could blame you - ‘hii i don’t think we’ve met, i’m suga :)’ cue hand shake and soft hand squeeze and pretty eyes staring right into you melting your insides.. he’s just naturally sweet towards everyone and you learn this eventually. loves giving head pats and asking about your day and telling you to ‘take care text me when you get home!’ you‘re always telling him whoever he’d end up with would be the luckiest person on earth and you’d never forgive them if they hurt him. the type of guy best friend who spams your profile pic with comments - ‘wHO IS SHE’, ‘ohhh she glowin!’ - and acts all surprised as if you hadn’t just asked him to choose that photo for you. has a sixth sense for you that’s always so on-point he could tell when you’re faking a smile and would drag you out of the room discreetly saying ‘c’mon lets talk’

DAICHI SAWAMURA acts as the parent/legal guardian throughout your friendship, always reminding you to drink your water and to drop instant noodles from your diet. he has your birthday penciled into his planner and phone calendar, remembers your hyper-specific coffee order from starbucks, and knows all your pet peeves - from slow walkers to being told to ‘chill’ because it invalidates your feelings. the best friend you can trust to do your yearbook write up for you because he knows all your best qualities and remembers all your achievements by heart. doesn’t seem to be aware of his own popularity - his mental age surpasses that of people his age - and couldn’t be bothered with anything concerning romance so you’re always trying to pimp him out set him up with friends and friends of friends who are dying to date him

ASAHI AZUMANE’s always seen as the understated friend in the group just quietly soaking up everyone’s stories in the background but actually has a comedic streak only you and few others know about. it’s easy to miss because he’s too shy to say his jokes out loud so he mumbles them to himself, and they’re so insanely corny - delivered with a straight face - it had you tearing up from laughter the first time you caught him. you love that his brand of funny is free from any kind of attention seeking and feel lucky to be one of the few to witness this side of him. his sense of humor shines best when innocently poking fun at his close friends like doing accurate re-enactments of suga smizing at his reflection or daichi holding his screen 10 inches from his face, or when you’re expressively telling a story and he goes “do that face again” so you do it and he’s like “one more” and idiot you does it again before realizing bitch is trolling you ugh

NISHINOYA YUU is your wild card friend - you never know when he’d show up to things, but when he does, everyone knows. the friend you wished upon a shooting star the way Lilo did and ended up getting a gremlin smh. he’s the spark plug for spontaneous action in your life - would randomly text blast everyone on a weekend to hangout and watch that rooster fight in his neighborhood or go feral at the batting cage downtown, and you’re like wtf...game. deep conversations aren’t really his thing but you’re always so down for anything, to ride along with all the shit he enjoys and listen to his ramblings and it’s that rawness he loves about your friendship. the best friend that has a tendency to go missing in action all of a sudden and no one knows where he is but will randomly hit you up at 10pm to grab ramen with him or those ghetto ass meals ($0.80 rice burgers ftw) on the sidewalk that give you both diarrhea

TANAKA RYUUNOSUKE tried to shoot his shot with you the first you met; now cringes whenever reminded about it because you’re a sausage to him now, as sausage everyone else on the team. the best friend who’s down to hang out literally from morning ‘til dawn, have friends over for a week, go out for late night visits or spontaneous road trips - really anything that serves an excuse to be with the bros (including you). you’d joke about growing sick of each other’s company but deep down you know he’s the one person you could never tire of and run out of fun things to do with. the best friend you could simply be drinking grapefruit shochu with or eating cup noodles and it’d still be one of the most memorable moments with him. the most reliable especially when you’ve gone through a messy break up or when it’s red season - will come over with a whole bag of instant ramen, some takoyaki and some ibuprofen (regardless of the situation)

you and HINATA SHOUYO hit it off within the first hour of meeting each other. you’ve screeched talked about everything there’s to know about the other - volleyball, school life, mutual friends, music taste, siblings, irrational fears and childhood traumas - added each other on facebook, followed each other’s instagram, made plans to watch that game in another school; all within an hour. there’s just something about him that makes it easy for you to open up about anything. the friend that gets you all flustered at the start because he’s so touchy and always poking and hugging you every chance he gets (turns out he’s an accidental flirt). he’s your number one fan and cheerleader and has a way with words that always lifts your spirit, but also definitely the best friend who always gets you sent out of class because your thumb wrestling match or game of tic tac toe got over competitive

KAGEYAMA TOBIO isn’t sure who or what exactly counts as a best friend but he knows which people to trust and which ones trust him back and accept him as he is. yours is a friendship where seeing and talking to each other might happen every few weeks (or even months) but knowing you can count on the other for support and encouragement. there’s never any pressure to be more expressive and he feels comfortable to just be his normal self around you; you’ve probably bonded over mutual interest like volleyball or just sports in general, something that made a lasting impression and led to keeping in touch. you can’t be there in all his games but you make sure to stay updated and send him a ‘congrats!’ or ‘you did your best!’ after matches. you’re sometimes mistaken for his s/o (with how comfortable he is with you), and though neither of you give a shit and even ride along with it sometimes, deep down you’re both thinking: ‘HARD PASS’

YAMAGUCHI TADASHI - timid and innocent, that’s the first impression he gives off to a lot of people. he seems hard to get to know at first but all it takes is a little kindness and authenticity for this boy to warm up to you. deep down he’s hemorrhaging with happiness whenever someone introduces themselves and welcomes him as a friend - he’s never really sure if people like him and he doesn’t like imposing on others. even on a best friend level you’ll learn that there’s so much more layers to him - that he’s loudest when nerding out on things like underdog athletes and comics and art, that he has an eye for aesthetic and beauty and is easily attracted to pretty faces and stylish dressers (but is blind to red flags sighh). he keeps you updated with the trendiest stuff like that milk tea store that just opened or that new release on netflix — always up to date with everything ugh

to TSUKISHIMA KEI, people are either strangers or friends. you could be talking or working together on a daily basis but he’d still consider your friendship superficial; inversely, you could be hanging out only once/twice a week but your conversations would always be interesting or challenging enough for him to keep you around. you’re most likely the louder one or always the one initiating conversations and asking to hang out with him; he’ll call you annoying but secretly appreciates your genuine interest in reaching out to him. you’ll know he acknowledges you as a friend when gives you song recs based on your music taste or asks for your opinion on things - should he get new headphones or that limited edition t-rex figurine? he’ll engage you in debate while studying, in talks about social issues and maybe some existential stuff and you’ll learn that the unforeseeable future led by your generation keeps him up at night

a/n: because my guy best friends started messaging out of nowhere and i’m missing them more than usual.

#karasuno #haikyuu #tsukishima kei #hq!!#haikyuu!!#kageyama tobio #hq headcanons #haikyuu headcanons #sugawara koushi #daichi sawamura #azumane asahi #nishinoya yuu #tanaka ryuunosuke #hinata shouyou #yamaguchi tadashi

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imekitty · 4 years

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If you're interested, I'd have a suggestion for a DP oneshot: it takes place in a classroom, with only Danny and Paulina in it since they're retaking a test they failed. Unfortunately for Paulina, she still doesn't have a clue about the right answers; Danny, on the other hand, having spent a lot of time studying, knows exactly what to do and is almost done. But just as he's about to put his signature, Paulina walks up to him and sweetly asks him what he would like to do since there's still ...

So I know you sent more asks basically giving an entire outline from start to end. However, because I like more freedom when writing, I’ve decided to go with the premise of Danny and Paulina in detention together to get help for a failed test and create my own story. I encourage you to write your full idea yourself if you would like to see it! :)

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“Danny, why are you still here?” asked Sam as she shut her locker. “Lancer’s gonna be mad if you’re late for detention.”

Danny groaned. “You’re right. I’m going.”

“Good luck, dude,” said Tucker. “Text us when you’re done and we’ll meet you at Nasty Burger or something.”

Danny grumbled agreement and headed to Lancer’s classroom. Lancer gave him a dull stare from behind his desk as Danny reached the doorway.

But there was another student sitting at one of the front desks, a student who escalated Danny’s heartbeat.

“Paulina?” Danny stammered. “Am I interrupting something? Should I wait outside?”

“No, Mr. Fenton,” said Lancer. “Miss Sanchez also failed our most recent test, so I’m giving both of you some extra help.”

“Hi, Danny,” greeted Paulina, her voice sweet and sultry.

“Hi.” Danny felt stuck in the doorway but forced himself to walk into the room. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect to see you here.”

Paulina laughed. “Well, I can’t say the same about you. This is exactly where I’d expect to see you.”

Danny took a seat next to Paulina. “I don’t actually get detention that often, you know.”

“Yes, you do, Mr. Fenton,” said Lancer, turning to face the whiteboard and write notes with a fresh blue marker. “You currently hold the record for most detentions received in a semester.”

Danny blushed. Paulina giggled softly.

Lancer began drawling on about some poet who died but Danny could barely pay attention. Oh, he certainly tried, but being so close to the most beautiful girl in school was really hurting his concentration.

He stole glances at her out of the corner of his eye. And one time, he swore he could see her looking at him as well.

After lecturing for some time, Lancer assigned a few independent practice exercises from their textbook and disappeared out into the hall. Danny could hear the voice of another English teacher in the school and knew Lancer would likely be talking to her for a while.

Danny looked down at his textbook. He was supposed to answer questions about poetry devices or some other thing he still didn’t really get. He had no idea why English was such a pain in the ass. He definitely didn’t know why he had to learn all this crap about poetry, like when was that ever going to help him fight ghosts or do anything actually important?

His gaze travelled down the textbook page to his blank sheet of paper and then across and off his desk to Paulina, who was busy writing. She stopped when she caught him staring at her.

“Can I help you with something, Danny?” she asked, her tone snide but kind.

“Sorry.” Danny sucked his teeth. “So, um… You failed the test too, huh?”

Paulina breathed hard out her nose and sat back in her seat. “Yeah. I didn’t really have the time to study, you know? And I guess I didn’t realize it would be as hard as it was.”

“Didn’t have time to study?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I’m not, like, stupid.” Paulina chuckled. “I could’ve passed if I just wasn’t so busy.”

“Busy with what?” asked Danny. “Do you and the A-List hang out a lot?”

“Sure, but that’s not what keeps me busy. Cheerleading, for one. We have to practice all the time, sometimes even in the morning. And the mornings we don’t practice, I’m still getting up early to get in a run and some exercise. I’m the cheerleading captain, you know. I have to keep everyone at their best and motivated. Every day, I’m working out choreography for new routines and figuring out new fundraising ideas.”

“Don’t you have a coach for that?”

“Yeah, of course, but I still do a lot. Cheerleading isn’t just some silly girls’ activity, you know.”

“I—I didn’t say it was—”

“I have to make sure everything and everyone is ready for practice.” Paulina pulled back a finger on one hand as she listed off responsibilities. “I have to text all the girls and let them know about changes in our practice schedule or upcoming events. If any of the girls aren’t getting along, I have to try to keep the peace as much as possible so that we’re still a team. I’m also the one greeting visiting cheer squads during games, making them feel welcome at our school.”

“I didn’t know you did all that,” said Danny.

“The coach manages our time and schedule and makes sure none of the girls are failing in their classes, things like that, but I’m the one really communicating with the girls, you know?” Paulina sighed. “But I wish that was all I had going on.”

“You’re busy with other things?”

“Yeah, being as popular as I am, I’m often being asked by teachers and student clubs to do things. Advertising stuff, endorsing student council candidates, making appearances, giving fashion advice for uniforms. And I never turn anyone down, I always say yes.” Paulina leaned back and looked at the ceiling. “Sometimes I wish I could just say no.”

“Why don’t you?” asked Danny.

“Because it’s expected of me. Being popular means doing things to maintain that popularity. If I start turning people down, they’re gonna think I’m a bitch, you know?”

“But you turn guys down for dates all the time.” Danny smiled and propped his elbow on his desk. “Me being one of them.”

Paulina also smiled. “Personal things like that are okay to turn down. I mean like anything to do with the school and clubs. Of course I can’t just date every guy who asks me out. Can’t give the impression I’m easy either.”

She looked ahead at the whiteboard, her smile vanishing.

“I do get a lot of guys asking me out,” said Paulina. “I know it’s just because I’m pretty. But looking this pretty all the time is work too. I have to eat right and watch my weight and exercise and spend half an hour each night on my skin care routine and an hour each morning on my hair and makeup and then touchups throughout the day. I never know when someone might take a picture of me and send it around. I can’t risk ever looking bad.”

“You have never looked bad,” said Danny. “Like ever.”

Paulina’s smile returned. “Thank you. That’s sweet.” She groaned and stretched out her arms. “But I tell you, Danny. I probably only get three to four hours of sleep a night. I’m running on coffee and energy drinks all day long. This detention is really cutting into my time, too. I’m probably gonna be up late finishing all my other homework.”

She continued to stretch. Danny normally might’ve enjoyed watching her but he was too struck by her words.

She only got three to four hours of sleep a night?

But… That was how much sleep he usually got a night.

And yet she looked amazing every day and he knew he was just a pale haunted mess with dark eyes.

“So what about you, Danny?”

Danny blinked. “Hmm?”

“Why did you fail this test?” asked Paulina.

“Oh. Um.” Danny looked up and to the right. “I was also too busy.”

“Oh, yeah?” Paulina tossed a piece of hair over her shoulder. “You do come to class late a lot. Do you have like some sort of astronomy club meeting in the morning?”

“Astronomy club?”

“Yeah, don’t you like space and stuff?”

“Oh. Yeah! I do. But I’m not in the astronomy club.”

“Really? I would think you’d be their president.” Paulina chuckled. “Well, are you in any school clubs, then?”

Danny thought about the meetings he had with Sam, Tucker, and sometimes Jazz about their ghost-fighting strategies. “Not school clubs, no.”

“Any extracurricular activities at all? I know you don’t play any sports.”

“No…”

Paulina pursed her lips. “Well, then what is it that keeps you too busy to study?”

Danny looked off to the side, humming softly to himself.

“I often see you with Sam and Tucker after school at the Nasty Burger. Or on Saturdays at the mall.”

Danny turned back to her. “Well, yeah, we like to hang out after school to wind down. Don’t you hang out with your friends? You don’t do all that work all the time, do you?”

“Yeah, of course! I’m actually scheduled to hang out with them right after detention.”

“Scheduled?”

“Yeah. It’s important to me to make time for my friends, so I often schedule it to make sure it happens.” She tapped open her calendar on her phone and showed it to him. “I even keep Saturday nights free for possible dates, see?”

Danny stared at the empty slot under Saturday and wondered if this was a hint and if she wanted him to ask her to go out on Saturday.

But no way was he about to risk embarrassing himself by asking.

“So do the three of you do something that keeps you too busy to study?” Paulina put her phone back in her lap. “You, Sam, and Tucker, I mean.”

Danny scratched through his mind, raking for something, anything that wasn’t the truth but also maybe not a complete lie. He couldn’t let Paulina think he was just lazy and hung out with his friends eating burgers or walking around the mall all day.

“We, uh… Yeah.” Danny pretended to cough. “We help my parents out with their research.”

“Research?” Paulina scrunched her mouth. “You mean, like, ghost stuff?”

Danny nodded. “We sometimes test out their inventions.”

“That sounds kind of dangerous. Is it?” Paulina narrowed her eyes, appearing to scrutinize him. “Is that why you so often have injuries? Like that bruise by your collarbone there?”

Danny hastily tugged at his shirt collar. “Oh. You noticed that?”

“Yeah. Of course. A lot of people notice you’re often sporting some new cut or bruise.”

“Oh. Well, that’s, uh—”

“I’ve even heard some teachers say they might need to call CPS.”

Danny’s stomach flopped. “What?”

“Yeah, I hear lots of things teachers say since I’m around the whole school a lot.” Paulina shrugged. “But I’ve noticed Sam and Tucker sometimes have injuries as well. So is it from helping your parents out with their ghost research?”

“No, it’s not like that!” said Danny quickly, almost panting with the effort. “We just sometimes test out their inventions, give feedback, strategize on how to catch certain ghosts. Just stuff like that, nothing huge.”

“Ooh, catch ghosts like the ghost boy?” Paulina’s tone changed to almost a squeal. She held her hands near her chest.

“Uh.” Danny swallowed. “Well—”

“If your parents do ever catch him, you must let me know, okay?”

“I—”

“Because then I can get the A-List together so we can find a way to rescue him!”

Danny stared at her. “You’d really do that?”

“Well, of course! The ghost boy has done so much for all of us. He even saved my life once, you know! I could never just let him be captured.” Paulina lowered her voice. “Oh, but please don’t tell your parents that.”

Danny slowly nodded, holding back a smile. “Oh, sure, I would never tell them that. You have my word.”

“Here. You should have my number.” Paulina ripped off a corner of her notebook paper and scribbled some numbers on it before handing it to him. “Call or text me if they ever catch him, okay? Please?”

Danny took the piece of paper from her, feeling like he was in some sort of trance. Did this just happen? Did Paulina Sanchez, the most gorgeous girl in all of Casper High, just give him her number? To her cell phone? Like her personal cell phone?

He very carefully folded and placed the paper in his pocket. “Sure, absolutely. I’ll definitely call you if they catch him.”

She smiled and hummed, such a cute sound that made his heart flitter. But then her smile faded when her gaze travelled to his collarbone. Danny casually raised his shoulder and pulled his arm across his body to cover the bruise.

“So.” Paulina’s pretty full lips smacked. “If those injuries you keep getting aren’t from helping your parents with their inventions, then where are they from?”

Danny could feel sweat forming behind his ears.

“I mean, you’re not really that clumsy, are you?” Paulina chuckled.

Danny also chuckled, not really sure why except that she was doing it and he had no idea what else to do because he couldn’t tell her the truth and yes he was clumsy but no not that clumsy but what else could he tell her?

What would protect his parents? What would protect him?

Her expression grew warier the longer he stayed quiet.

The classroom door opened. Danny and Paulina promptly faced forward and hunched over their desks.

“Sorry I was gone so long,” said Lancer as he reclaimed his spot at the head of the room. “How are you two understanding everything?”

Paulina looked up and smiled, a secret smile Danny could tell was meant for him even though she never once glanced in his direction. “I think we’re understanding just fine, Mr. Lancer.”

Lancer looked over her notebook page and nodded his approval. Danny had no idea why he even bothered to try covering his completely blank page when Lancer came to look over his work.

“Why am I not surprised,” muttered Lancer. He knelt beside Danny’s desk with a sigh. “All right, Mr. Fenton. Let’s do this first one together to get you started.”

Behind Lancer, Danny could see Paulina flash him a smirk before returning to her own work.

He had always thought he was just busier than other students, had more responsibilities and expectations than everyone else. But he didn’t even have extracurricular activities like most students. Ghost fighting was his extracurricular activity. And somehow Paulina and everyone else still managed to do okay so why couldn’t he?

Maybe he really wasn’t that different from other kids his age after all.

Lancer was trying to talk him through something. Paulina was still wearing a small smile as she did her own work.

Danny nodded to himself and focused. He could do this. He could be like everyone else.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #paulina sanchez #pink astronaut #imekitty writes #imekitty ask #prompt writing #helled-blog

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the--social--anarchist · 5 years

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Study Tips for Chronically Ill Students

Most bloggers aren’t writing for the chronically ill audience. Typical tips, tricks and hacks on productivity, motivation and studying just don’t work for us. As a chronically ill student who’s in her last year of undergrad (yay!) I decided to share what I have learned over the (many) years.

1. Get comfortable. Seriously. Don’t force yourself to sit at your desk, or go out to a coffee shop to study. Most people will tell you not to lay in bed while you read your books but if you are anything like me, getting ready and driving to the library or Starbucks just takes too much energy. I recommend making yourself a nice set up with everything you need. If you can tolerate sitting at a desk don’t skimp out. Buy yourself a decent, ergonomic office or gaming chair. Make sure you have a drink, a snack, your medication, charges, books, and anything else you need within arms reach. The less you have to get up the more energy you are saving.

2. Take frequent breaks. Okay, this may sound contradictory to tip #1 but hear me out. Everyone person is different, every body is different, and every day is different. Some days your symptoms are just so bad you need to get comfortable and try not to move. But other days you might be fighting brain fog and mental exhaustion. So get up, or even just stop and sit for a minute to rest your mind. Some days I will stop every few sections and get up to do something small like apply a face mask, go back to studying, and then get up in 15 minutes to wash it off etc. Just find what works for you.

3. Write shit down. Write everything down. And write it in multiple places. Again, brain fog is such a bitch, but writing things down multiple times in multiple places will help you remember. I have a paper calendar that I write all my assignment due dates, doctors appointments, and other important things onto, but I also have an assignment check list with all of my upcoming assignments in my notebook. Also, I keep a huge running list titled Never Ending List of Shit To Do with boring chores and tasks that need to be done like doctors to call, bills to pay, letters to mail etc; and I use that list to pick and choose what I’m going to do each day and fill that out on a sticky note or another small insert that serves as my daily to do list.

4. Establish a routine. But don’t be discouraged if you can’t follow it to a T and don’t be afraid to change it up. My routine changes a lot because my symptoms and body are constantly changing too. Also, it’s important to note that a routine is not the same as a schedule. This is important for those of us with chronic illness because its just not feasible to assume we will be able to get up at the same time every day, eat lunch at the same time every day, and study for the same amount of time every day.

5. Stay (way) ahead of schedule. You never know what life is going to throw at you, especially when you are chronically ill. Unfortunately, we can’t plan our flares, but we can prepare for them. If you know you suffer from migraines that will knock you out of commission for 3 days then make sure you are always 3 days ahead of schedule. Something I highly recommend is doing a little bit every day, even if its only 20 minutes of reading. Of course, sometimes we need a break and that’s okay too! Self care is important!

6. Online classes are the best. So many people say online classes are hard because you have to be super disciplined, and that it’s easier to have the accountability to show up to class, but I highly disagree. Online classes give you the freedom to read when you want, listen to lectures when you want, sleep when you need to, and stay comfortable in bed when it would be impossible to get to class. I work solely online and if it weren’t for the option of online classes I would not be in college right now or anytime in the near future.

7. Audio is your friend. Honestly, this is a tip for everyone in high school or college out there. Sometimes we are too tired or in too much pain to stare at a book or screen, or sometimes we need to utilize our energy wisely and multitask by listening while we clean the house. And this isn’t limited to audio text books. There are so many YouTube videos, podcasts, documentaries and more that you can easily just pop on while you are resting or doing chores! I listen to my lectures while I do my nails every week.

8. Don’t rewrite your notes. Don’t write them at all if you can avoid it. Almost all of my professors supply chapter outlines or summaries that I can just print off and fill in extra notes on. If you do need to write your notes I suggest typing them, or only writing them out once, and only what is most important. Whatever you do, don’t rewrite them, and for the love of god do not waste your time trying to make them look like an Instagram photo. Ain’t nobody got spoons for that.

9. Try to balance your course load appropriately. If you are taking a full course load try to even out the number of upper division classes you take with some easy classes, as well as some boring and some interesting. Alternatively, don’t be afraid to drop classes and go down to part time, even if just for one semester. I have tried to stay full time all year round since I re-enrolled in school fall semester of 2017, but spring of 2019 my health took a drastic decline and I did drop down from 5 classes to 3. I also took summer of 2019 off to focus on my health and came back this semester (fall 2019) ready to rock and roll. Seriously, do not be afraid to drop classes. It felt like the end of the world when I did it, but it was absolutely the right choice for me. It saved my GPA and my sanity.

10. Talk to your professor. And your university, and your classmates, and your adviser, and anyone else around you who can offer resources and support. Every university and college has a Disability Services Coordinator Student Center available to request accommodations. The information to contact the center should be listed on your syllabus and the school website. They can help with everything and anything disability related. And if you feel comfortable you should really talk to your professor. Just give them a heads up and inform them of what’s going on. As for your classmates, its always good to connect and find a study buddy or someone you can borrow notes from whether you have a disability or not!

I really hope this list can help some fellow chronically ill students out there. This is what I have learned in my 5+ years of attending college with various chronic and mental illnesses. I truly live by everything I talked about in this post and I have been fairly successful in my academic career. Please re-blog this post to help a fellow student who may have a chronic illness or disability! Happy studying!

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wholesomemendes · 4 years

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Fallen on Deaf Ears

Summary: You’re Shawn Mendes’ personal assistant which is all fun and games until feelings begin to change between the two of you. Words are said that could either ruin your friendship or help it grow into something more.

Author’s Note: Hi guys! This is my first attempt at writing for Shawn, but you have to start from somewhere. Anyways I hope you enjoy it! And please let me know what you think!

“You coming out with everyone tonight?”

The sound of a voice brought you back to reality, snapping your head up to be met with the most beautiful brown eyes you had ever seen. “Oh, um I don’t know, Shawn. I have a lot of emails to catch up on and I haven’t even started the calendar for May yet,” you responded, tearing your eyes away from where he was leaning on the door of the green room. After tonight’s show, you had sneaked away to the green room to finish up some work that was piling up lately, only after giving Shawn his celebratory hug of course. He didn’t have another show for 3 days, meaning the boys usually wanted to go out to drink, something they couldn’t do on a show night in order to preserve Shawn’s vocal chords. You honestly could go without the drinks, knowing you would have to stay mostly sober in order to take care of your giant man child. Even though you were off hours, being Shawn’s assistant meant there was never really an off time. If he needed something, he knew he could rely on you, either as an assistant or even a friend, and it went both ways. Although as much as you loved spending time with him, probably more than you would like to admit, you needed to catch up on the work that he had been distracting you from lately with his daily exploring.

“Pleaseeee,” Shawn borderline whined, “You have two days of doing absolutely nothing coming up, can’t you just do your work then?” The soft pitter-patter of footsteps got louder as he approached where you were sitting comfortably against the armrest of the couch, lifting your legs up to put them in his lap.

You peered at him over the top of your laptop, losing your focus for a second over the way the muscles in his arm were practically begging to rip open his shirt from the way he was leaning his head on his hand, “Becauseeeee I have a feeling someone is going to prevent me from doing said work on those next two days off. Would I be wrong in saying that?”

“I don’t prevent you from doing work!” he feigned offense, placing his large, tattooed hand over his heart. You glared at him again, earning a scoff from him, “I don’t!”

“Sure you don’t,” returning back to your work, you forwarded an email to Andrew about some radio interview in the next couple weeks before your laptop was pushed shut, almost pinching your fingers in the process. “Shawn!”

“Please come tonight,” he pleaded, giving you those puppy dog eyes he knew you couldn’t resist, “I don’t want to go if you don’t.”

Of course he was guilt tripping you. And you both knew he meant it when he said he wouldn’t go without you, the boy didn’t lie. You stood your ground, trying to act like his adorable face wasn’t breaking down your facade, “Fine, I’ll go, but don’t expect me to save you when you get so drunk you can’t stand.”

“I won’t I promise,” he smiled that genuine, happy smile that filled up his whole face before launching himself into your lap to hug you, “You won’t regret it.”

__________________________

You regretted coming. It was hours after midnight, your feet ached, the stench of sweaty, drunk people consumed your senses, and Shawn was no where to be found. After 2 hours and countless shots later, he transformed into the clingy, manchild that is drunk Shawn, meaning that you had to be on high alert to keep watch of him. But your bladder could only hold out for so long, which is how you found yourself in the present situation, aimlessly looking around for any signs of the tall, curly haired giant that had wandered off while you went to the bathroom for two minutes.

Just as you had almost given up hope, you felt a large hand wrap around your arm and a warm breath against your neck, feeling the presence of someone much bigger than yourself behind you. Before you could even think about trying to pull away, a familiar slurred voice filled your ears, “You know, you look awfully pretty tonight m’lady.” You let out a sigh of relief and turned to see the beautiful boy staring down at you with glazed eyes and a wide smile, a bright blush on his cheeks from the alcohol.

“You scared me,” you laughed, shaking your head, “Thought you were a stranger.”

“’M not a stranger,” Shawn responded, eyebrows scrunched up in confusion, “You work for me, remember? You’re my girl right?” He placed his hands on your shoulders and stepped back so that he could extend his arms fully and scrutinize your face. His eyes scanned you up and down, finally settling on your face with a satisfied huff of approval, “Yeah, you’re my girl.”

He pulled you into his strong arms as you laughed, “I remember bubs, just couldn’t see you from behind me. You told me you would stay at the bar while I went to the bathroom.”

“I did?” he questioned, pulling back to look at your face, “Are you sure?”

“You did, what happened to that?”

“Got distracted or something,” he mumbled into your shoulder, “Don’t remember. I missed you.”

“Did you now?” you asked, ruffling your fingers through those curls you love so much, earning a muffled yes in response.

A few moments of silence passed, his body engulfing yours as the two of you stood in the middle of the crowded club, “You smell so good, honey. Wanna make you mine.”

Your heart stopped for a moment, heat rushing to your cheeks from his drunken slurs. “Shawn,” you cupped his face in your hands for him to look at you, “you’re drunk, we should go back to the hotel.”

“Will you come back with me?” he asked, silently pleading with you with those damn puppy dog eyes.

“Yes, my room is kinda connected to yours,” you laughed as his face lit up, mumbling something along the lines of “’M so lucky” under his breath. You called an Uber as he leaned his weight against you, stumbling out of the club for the night.

__________________________

“Come on, Bubs, just a couple more feet and then you can get to bed.” Getting Shawn in his bed at this state was near impossible, but on duty or not you weren’t going to leave him on the side of the road for tomorrow’s headlines to pick up. Finally collapsing on his bed, you started unbuttoning his dress shirt to get him ready for bed.

“Hey, hey! You can’t undress me, I have a girlfriend,” he protested, pushing your hands off him.

“Since when do you have a girlfriend, mister?” you raised a brow at him, watching as his eyes fought to stay open.

“I don’t. But there’s this really pretty girl that I wanna date and I don’t think she’d like it if you were taking off my clothes.”

“Oh really? What’s she like?” you tried to distract him as you continued to take off his shirt.

“She’s gorgeous, like a literal goddess and she’s got the most beautiful eyes that I just get lost in all the time. She’s also super smart, like I think she could be on Jeopardy she’s so smart. Did you know I’ve been on Jeopardy before? Well not on Jeopardy, but like as a question? I’m not smart enough to be on Jeopardy cause I’m not as smart as she is. But I also didn’t go to college like her cause I’m not smart enough for that, ‘s why I became a singer.” A chuckle left your lips at his little drunken slurs, allowing you to take off his shirt and begin on his shoes. “Oh, and my girl is also the kindest person in the entire world. She has the biggest heart and that’s saying a lot cause she’s teeny tiny. I can rest my head on her head when we’re standing, but it’s ok cause she’s cute. Really cute. And she also makes the best grilled cheese sandwiches when I ask her to come over in the middle of the night, and sometimes she gives me throat massages before or after my shows.”

Your hands still where they had begun to unbuckle his belt, his words making you realize just who this mystery girl he was talking about was. “Shawn, I work for you, we can’t date.”

“Wasn’t talking about you, was talking about my girl.”

“Mhm, this girl sure does sound a lot like me.”

He took your face in his hands and began to stare into your eyes, “You do look a lot like her. Are you her?”

“Yes, I’m her, Shawn and we can’t date,” you removed his hands from your face and turned back to his belt.

“Why not?” he asked hurt, his drunk mind not being able to comprehend why the girl of his dreams didn’t want to be with him.

“Because I’m your assistant, bubs, I work for you which means we can’t date,” a pleased sigh escaped your lips once he was finally left in his boxers and you began to stand up so that you could head back to your room for the night’s sleep you were looking forward to.

‘But I like you.”

“I like you too,” you told the curly haired boy with small smile. I love you your mind screamed, but your rational brain did what it did every day and told you it wasn’t possible.

“Then be my girlfriend,” he huffed, reaching out to take your hands and pull you between his legs.

You stared at his disappointed face, threading your fingers through his long curls you loved so much, “I can’t, bubs. Besides, you’re drunk right now. Let’s get you to bed, how does that sounds?”

“‘M not going without you,” pulling you into his arms, pressing his face into your stomach, “You’re not going anywhere.”

You sighed trying to push him away to no avail. What harm would one night do? It’s not like the two of you hadn’t shared a bed before. It wasn’t rare to find the two of you cuddled on a couch between interviews or as a result of a night out, bodies intertwined under the covers. Nothing ever happened, but a small part of you almost wished that it had, and that was the part aching to just hold him for one more night. “Ok, just let me grab one of your shirts to put on instead of this dress.”

Ruffling through his drawers, you found a spare t-shirt that you knew would end up looking like a dress on you, opting out of finding a pair of sweatpants. You slid out of your skin tight dress, sighing in relief at the feeling of being free of it. “Wow,” you snap your head at the sight of Shawn sitting on the edge of the hotel bed, a dopey smile on his face, “You’re really pretty.”

A soft blush creeps up onto your cheeks as you pull the shirt over your head and climb into bed next to him, “Thanks, you’re not that bad looking either, rockstar.”

He situates himself under the covers, maneuvering so that his arm was laid across your waist with his head on your chest, legs intertwined, “I love you.” His soft voice is almost incoherent in the night, but your ears pick it up in the silence. Your breath catches in your throat, and hearing his steady breathing gives you some courage, knowing the words will stumble on deaf ears. “Shawn?” you whisper. Nothing. Not even a hum. “I love you too.”

__________________________

Mornings meant consequences. The bright Miami sun filtered through the hotel windows, causing you to squint your eyes at the unpleasant light. A heavy weight was placed around your body and it felt like an absolute dream, causing you to close your eyes once again and bask in the feeling. That was until you felt a hot breath on your neck that made your senses wide awake. You tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but that only made his steel grip on you tighten. “Shawn,” you whispered, failing to move his arm. He hummed in response, pulling you closer to his partially covered body. “Shawn,” you said a bit louder, making him hum again, “wake up.”

“’M tired,” he mumbled into your hair, “Just wanna cuddle.” He pushed his body onto yours, his hips pressing into your lower body, causing you to freeze.

“Shawn get up,” you say quickly shoving him off you, much to his dismay. He covers his eyes with his arm as you sit upright, trying to process the past few moments.

“Stop yelling,” he whines, letting out a deep breath, “my head is pounding.”

“That’s what you get for recklessly drinking last night.”

“At least I’m not stuck up all the time and too worried about my job to let loose like someone else I know.”

“Excuse me,” you asked looking over at him, shocked and frankly hurt by his words. It wasn’t your fault that you didn’t have a perfect singing voice and good looks to be a multi-millionaire recording artist like him. Yes, you won’t deny that sometimes working for him just felt like hanging around an old friend, but at the end of the day you worked for him. It was work and whether he liked it or not, that’s how you had to treat it.

“Listen, I shouldn’t have said that,” he sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“Are you really? Cause sometimes I think you do believe that.”

“No I don’t, I just-” rubbing a hand over his face in an attempt to open his eyes, he stares up at the ceiling, “Sometimes I wish you would just stop treating everything so professional all the time. I don’t understand why you can’t just enjoy something without worrying about your job.”

“You know what, Shawn, I take care of everything for you! I organize your schedules, I help you get ready for concerts, pack your bags, take care of you when you’re sick, I even help you when you’re drunk god knows where in the middle of the night because you want a ride home! And that’s just the tip of the iceberg! I know sometimes we act like we’re friends, Shawn, but this is my job. So no matter what happens between us, at the end of the day I’m getting paid to be here. That’s why I’m here. Not because I’m your friend.”

He watches as you stand up, grabbing your clothes from last night, leaving his heart to ache in his chest, “You don’t mean that.”

Before you turn the door handle to your room, you spare a glance at the broken man in his bed, your own heart weighing heavy knowing you’re the one that caused the pain on his face. “I’ll see you around Shawn.”

__________________________

Nothing could have prepared you for the tension that would have followed between you and Shawn. He didn’t speak to you for the next two days, unless he needed information on something, which usually resulted in an email or text from him even if he was only 5 feet away. You didn’t blame him. You knew your words hurt him and you wanted nothing more than to take away his pain and be there the way he wanted you to be. But you knew you couldn’t do it. You weren’t going to be Shawn Mendes’ personal assistant forever, and when it comes to finding a new job, you know that someone that had a relationship with their previous boss wasn’t exactly the type of person companies were lining up to hire. Besides, the bigger issue at hand was what would happen if it didn’t work out. How would things turn out? Job aside, you don’t think you could handle it if you lost Shawn. Nothing could be worse than this, you reasoned with yourself, but you couldn’t help but think that if the two of you broke up, there would be no way of getting your Shawn back. Then again you didn’t know how much longer you could take this.

Everyone in the team could tell something was wrong. The two of you went from an excessive amount of contact to absolutely nothing in a matter of 24 hours and no one could wrap their head around what happened. Neither one of you would talk about it and would brush someone off if they asked, so for the next week, there was a growing tension in the air. No talking between the two of you. No cuddles. No teasing. And no after show celebratory hugs.

__________________________

Day 8. 8 days without Shawn and you were starting to go insane. You missed him so much you were physically hurting on the inside and all you wanted was to melt in his arms while he held you tight to his chest. That’s what led you to knocking on his hotel room door in the middle of the night, knowing he would be awake. After not receiving a reply, you slowly opened the shared door that hadn’t been used for days and peered your head inside, finding him strumming his guitar on the hotel balcony. You stepped into the room, quietly shutting the door the best you could before making your way to where he was sitting, beautiful melodies flowing out of him. It was entrancing listening to him play, and from what you could make of his quiet singing, it was another beautiful love song being created in his mind. “I’m surprised you’re here,” his voice broke you out of your trance, “Thought we weren’t friends.”

“I came here to apologize, I feel terrible for what I said....and I missed you,” you confessed, watching your toe move around the cold concrete, the only thing grounding you right now. He stayed silent at this, continuing to move his fingers methodically on his guitar. “Its beautiful by the way,” he looked up at your words, your eyes meeting his for the first time tonight, “the song.”

He nodded, focusing his eyes on the strings once again, ”It’s about you. They all are.”

You sighed, slowly walking over and taking a seat next to him, “I’m sorry, Shawn, I really am. I didn’t mean what I said at all I just...I don’t know.”

“You know for someone who’s so smart you never seem to know anything when it comes to how you feel,” he quipped and you couldn’t blame him for acting bitter towards you.

“I know, and you can hate me all you want, but I can’t do this anymore. I miss you. I miss your little jokes and your cuddles and I really miss the look in your eyes before you hugged me after a show. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I want things to be back to normal so bad.” You couldn’t stop the small tear that fell from your eye and suddenly, as Shawn’s guitar playing stopped, the sounds of the cars in the streets never sounded so loud. You fiddled aimlessly with your hands, never looking up in fear of what you’d see on his face, “I like you a lot, Shawn, but I’m scared. I’m so scared because you’re you and I’m just me. I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future and I’m terrified. Yes, I worry about how my career would be impacted if I dated my boss, but the main reason I’m so scared is because I can’t lose you.” At this point tears were flowing down your face and you placed your head in your hands, unable to stop them.

His hands were rough and calloused from years of playing guitar and a stark contrast to your smooth skin as he moved your hands away and cupped your face. The dark blue sky shined down on the two of you, and as you brought your eyes to his, you swore he was a god by the way the moonlight was glowing on his face. He smiled softly at you, his eyes holding such sincerity and truth in them, “Listen to me, I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. Hell, I don’t even know what’s going to happen tomorrow. But what I do know for sure is that I need you by my side to get through it. I want you in anyway that you’ll give me, but I promise that if you give your heart to me, I won’t break it. And I don’t break my promises.”

“I know you don’t,” you let out a sad laugh before wiping your tears, causing Shawn to take your head in his hands again to wipe your tears, “I want to give you my heart, all of it.”

A smile broke out onto his face, making your heart glow just from seeing him happy, “Really?” You nodded and he brought your face closer to his, resting his forehead on yours. His eyes looked at your lips and you found yourself doing the same, longing for the feeling you had been dreaming about for years. “Can I kiss you?” You didn’t respond, instead leaning forward and connecting your lips.

You didn’t know if this was real or a dream. But there was no way that this could be a dream because it felt better than anything you could have ever imagined. His lips were soft against yours, which was no surprise given how obsessed he was with chapstick, and the feeling of it was enough to make you dizzy. When you finally pulled away he kept you close, afraid that if he let go, you would disappear, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” except this time, your words didn’t fall on deaf ears.

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mosh-4 · 4 years

Text

new friends, new music | A.I.

Ashton Irwin Imagine:

Ashton Irwin – you’re their opening act, and you write a song with Ash.

singer!y/n x Ashton

(the first song is Tennis Court, and the second is Ribs, both by Lorde. let’s pretend here, friends)

Being the opening act for 5 Seconds of Summer is great. You were loving it. The energy and support from the crowd was life changing.

However, part of you felt like there was something missing. You felt out of place. Every night, you would perform the same set of songs you had written for yourself while at your university, and your manager had encouraged you to record them and put them out. You were a baby musician and followed their guidance, but now that you have grown, you can’t help but feel like your music isn’t ‘you’ anymore.

To you, it felt sloppy and anti-climactic. If you weren’t confident or happy with your music, how could the crowd be?

You wouldn’t blame them if they put you on blast on twitter. You felt the same way.

The solution to your problem was to just not write bad songs. Easy right? So, you spent the majority of your bus time either sleeping, eating, or writing music. It wasn’t horrible.

You were on bus two with the second opening act. They were a three-member band, and you got along with them pretty well. You wouldn’t personally choose to hang with them, but you lived together on a tour bus so you couldn’t really escape them.

The bus assignments were pretty loose. You slept on bus two, but you weren’t confined to it. The members of the other opening act occasionally spent their time on bus one with headliners. You cherished that time because it was quiet enough for you to work on your new music, and you could be as loud as you wanted.

The tour was currently traveling from Charlotte, NC to Nashville, TN, and you were alone in your bus. Or, so you thought.

***

You were sitting in the back lounge of the tour bus with an acoustic guitar resting on your lap and a pair of rose gold headphones resting on your head.

You began to strum opening notes of the melody you were working on while humming and mouthing some lyrics to go with it. You would stop every once in a while to jot some notes down into your little notebook. You had been in your head for quite sometime until you decided you needed a break.

You played through the work in progress once before you got up to lock it in your brain. You strummed and sang along with the lyrics you had just written as loud as you pleased. Once you finished and felt content with your work, you got up to grab a snack and drink from the kitchen area.

With your headphones still securely placed on your head, you began to blast some Panic! At the Disco and scrolled through Instagram as you trekked to the kitchen. Following your usual route without paying attention, you climbed onto the booth table seat to reach the top cabinet that you placed your snacks in. You placed a hand firmly on the wall to keep your balance.

Unfortunate for you, the bus hit a bump in the road causing you to teeter off the booth seat with your graham crackers in one hand and you phone in the other. You braced yourself for your inevitable fall before you felt a hand grab you by the waist.

“oh my god.”

You jumped from the sudden contact and pulled yourself away from the person after regaining your balance.

Your mighty savior laughed at your outburst.

“are you alright?” the Australian asked after he quickly finished laughing.

You looked up and slid your headphones to rest on your neck. The one and only Ashton Irwin sat at the very booth seat you had just climbed on. You had nearly stepped on him.

“I’m fine. You just scared me,” you said taking a breath. “I’m sorry. I was in my head, and I totally didn’t see you there.”

“don’t sweat it. It’s fine,” he said glancing to your box of graham crackers. “you might have to share some of those with me, though.”

Now that you had finally calmed down, you set the box down on the table before moving the grab a water from the fridge.

“do you want anything to drink?” you asked in an attempt to be hospitable to guy you had nearly climbed up just to get a few graham crackers.

“I’m good. I helped myself earlier,” he said while scrolling through his phone.

You grabbed a drink for yourself before taking a seat across the table from him.

To be honest, he was kind of intimidating, and you had never really had a conversation with him. Of course, you had listened to his music, and you were a fan. He and the rest of his band just felt unapproachable to you.

He typed a few things into his laptop before going back to his phone.

“i-uh-can go if you’re super busy,” you said preparing to leave him a sleeve of graham crackers and head back to the lounge.

He immediately snapped his eyes to you.

“no,” he said quickly. “I’m not doing anything important. I’m just putting some dates and events into the calendar on my phone that my manager emailed the band. You don’t need to leave.”

“okay, are you sure? I don’t mind.”

“no, seriously. You should stay.”

“okay,” you softly said as you opened a sleeve of graham crackers.

You slide the half open sleeve to him, and he grabbed two before sliding it back to you.

“so how come you never hang out with everyone in my bus?” Ashton asked with an eyebrow raised to you.

You grabbed a cracker for yourself. “I like to work on some stuff when its quiet. Nothing personal against hanging with everyone, I just need a moment to myself.”

“cheers to that,” he said tapping his graham cracker against yours.

“so why are you visiting bus two?” you leaned back in your seat.

“it got a bit chaotic in bus one, and I needed a break for myself,” he paused to take a bit. “I could feel a migraine coming on.

“oh, do you need something for it? I’ve got ibuprofen-”

“nah,” he shook his head. “I had a small nap, and it went away.”

“oh okay. I’m sorry if I was being loud back in the lounge.”

“no, you were fine. It was calming,” he admitted while examining your face. “whatever you were working on sounded really good. Are you going to add it to your set?”

You took a swig of your water. “I’m not sure if I want to. The song feels too personal to share right now. I don’t think I’ll be playing it until I start putting out music that’s more me, you know?”

“that’s more you?” he squinted his eyes at you. “not a fan of your current stuff?”

“hardly,” you admit. “it just feels too out of place. Half of those songs I wrote at 2 am for a music theory class in college, and the other half are manufactured pop rock songs. My manager wanted me to put out an album so badly that he didn’t really care what went into it, and now I can’t perform them without cringing. I’ve just- uh- I don’t know- like- I feel like I’ve just kinda-I don’t know-”

“you’ve grown,” he shrugged.

“yeah. I have,” you pause looking him dead in the eye. “and I need my music to progress with me.”

“I get that. You’ve found the music you want to make, and you want to perform music you’re passionate about rather than the stuff you’re given. Nothing wrong with that,” he shrugged before leaning forward. “so how many do you have written?”

“songs?”

“yeah, how many songs do you have written?”

“like twenty, but I only like four of them.”

“counting the one you were working on earlier?”

“no, that’s not finished yet.” You took another chomp out of your cracker.

“okay,” he nodded. “can I write some stuff with you?”

“really?” you almost choke. “you want to work with me?”

“yeah, why not?” he smiled. “we’ve got nothing to do for the next three hours.”

***

You and Ashton sat on the floor of the lounge working out a song. You both had guitars on your lap while you worked out melodies. Ashton was tapping out a beat on the body of the acoustic he was borrowing. You hummed along to the melody you were working on before snapped up straight and slung the guitar off your lap.

You leaped up to grab your notebook from the couch and began to flip through it until you found your page. You set the book down in front of you as you place the guitar back on your lap.

“what if, it went like this,” you started before strumming the melody. You began to sing:

“baby, be the class clown,

I’ll be the beauty queen in tears

It’s a new art form,

showin’ people how little we care”

“I like it, yeah, yeah, let’s keep running with it.”

“okay, keep the beat that you were doing,” you said before you went back to your singing.

“baby, be the class clown,

I’ll be the beauty queen in tears

It’s a new art form,

showin’ people how little we care

We’re so happy, even when we’re smilin’ out of fear

Let’s go down to the tennis courts and talk it up like yeah (yeah)”

Ashton let out one of his bleated laughs. “where did you get ‘tennis courts’?”

You let out a little laugh as he distracted you from you train of thought. “I went to a private high school. We had tennis courts that the popular kids hung out at.”

“that’s ridiculous,” he laughed.

“I know.”

***

“But my head's filling up with the wicked games, up in flames

How can I f*** with the fun again, when I'm known

And my boys trip me up with their heads again, loving them

Everything's cool when we're all in line, for the throne

But I know it's not forever (Yeah)

Baby be the class clown

I'll be the beauty queen in tears

It's a new art form showing people how little we care (yeah)

We're so happy, even when we're smilin' out of fear

Let's go down to the tennis court, and talk it up like yeah (yeah)”

You sat singing the song you and Ashton had just finished into your voice memos while he tapped out the beat for you.

“that was so cool.”

You smiled sheepishly at the drummer after you had finished voice-memo-ing your song.

“thanks.”

“that’s gonna be a banger,” he laughed adjusting his hair. “what else do you got in your little book?”

You laughed before tossing it into his lap. “beware, some of it’s angsty, but I trust you not to judge too harshly.”

You stood up to grab you both some more snacks and waters while Ashton flipped through your countless pages of lyrics.

“hey, I like this one,” he shouted from the other room.

“which one,” you shouted back.

“it feels so scary getting old.”

Your feet padded into the room with your arms full of the box of graham crackers and waters.

“that’s a dark one.”

“I don’t judge.” He said looking up from the one of the pages. “it’s that all you eat?”

Ashton laughed at you as you shoved a cracker into your mouth. So much for not judging…

“is there something wrong with that?”

“extremely,” he laughed grabbing a cracker for himself. “you do eat other foods, right? With nutrients and stuff?”

“yeshf,” you replied with a full mouth. “it’s a snack. I’ll eat actually food when we stop for dinner.”

“can I buy you dinner?”

“uhhhhh-”

“so that we can talk about more song ideas, you know?”

“oh, yeah, sure,” you nodded. “I would like that.”

“cool, so let’s work on this one,” he said directing your attention to the page with the lyrics written on it.

“damn that’s angsty,” you said after you scanned the page. “let’s do it.”

***

“This dream isn't feeling sweet

We're reeling through the midnight streets

And I've never felt more alone

It feels so scary, getting old

I want 'em back (I want 'em back)

The minds we had (the minds we had)

How all the thoughts (how all the thoughts)

Moved 'round our heads (moved 'round our heads)

I want 'em back (I want 'em back)

The minds we had (the minds we had)

It's not enough to feel the lack

I want 'em back, I want 'em back, I want 'em

You're the only friend I need

Sharing beds like little kids

Laughing 'til our ribs get tough

But that will never be enough”

You bopped back and forth to the beat as you sang along to the beat Ashton was giving as you sang the song you had just thrown together.

When you finished, Ashton let out a whistle.

“another one, baby, another one. THIS IS ROCK N ROLL BABY,” he screamed excitedly as you laughed before collapsing onto the couch next to you.

Both of your heads’ rested against the same cushion just inches apart.

“I’d say today was quite productive,” you whisper tiredly between the two of you.

“we did good,” he raised his hand to bump his knuckles against yours.

“we did. Pretty good team, huh?”

You were both stuck in a post-songwriting-genius session haze, and both of your eyes linger just a little too long on each other.

Thankfully, the bus lurched forward as it stopped at the rest stop to fill up and for everyone to grab dinner, which pulled you both from your little world.

Ashton was the first to break the gaze as he pulled himself off the couch to help you up.

“c’mon, let’s go get some real food.”

You groan as he yanks you up from the couch before you head to tear apart your bunk to find your pair of converse.

…and that’s how you became best friends with Ashton Irwin…

hi friends! i know it’s been a while, but i’m back. let me know if you want to see more singer!y/n x Ashton xx - mosh

#5sos #ashton irwin #ashton irwin imagines #ashton irwin imagine

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hazelandglasz · 3 years

Text

Tin-Tanium, A Klaine Advent Calendar

Hi! Yeah, I decided to write all of the Klaine Advent prompts in one story going back the steps of a ten-year anniversary.

Merry Christmas, happy holidays everybody, and I hope you’ll enjoy this compilation!!

Abashed

Over ten years, there are many opportunities for a couple to embarrass themselves.

Kurt has plenty of memories that fit in that category, Blaine too.

Blaine and Kurt together, too.

Whether it’s from their early days (Kurt still can’t believe he used an entire notebook sketching their hyphenated names around hearts) or from the most recent years (Blaine prefers to hide his face in his hands rather than face the recollection of “Glitter Vampire”, no matter how many times Eliott tells him that it’s still a fan favorite), they have managed to feel abashed more often than not.

It’s not like they mind, though.

Being abashed only lasts a moment--the memory, the joy of it, that lasts forever.

Brake

Slow and steady wins the race, doesn’t it.

So, sometimes, even though neither of them wants to slow down, one of them has to pull the brakes.

Oh, it’s not always when they are tearing each other’s clothes apart, get your mind out of the gutter.

(... they do have to slow down their loving romps sometimes, but it’s rarely because they want to and more because of coitus interruptus.)

They learned how to brake to keep their paths aligned; slowing down in their own rush to get all they want out of life in order to get there together.

And winning the race of life together is the only win Kurt and Blaine are interested in.

Careless

Kurt listened attentively, when his father told him to always be careful about his husband’s needs.

Blaine listened too, when Burt told him that though Kurt doesn’t always say it aloud, he has a way of communicating his emotions that Blaine has to “listen” for.

They do care for each other, throughout the years.

But.

But as careful as they are, or try to be, they can also behave in a careless way.

Though they always try their best, neither Kurt nor Blaine can avoid letting their worst lashing out.

Eventually, though, they learn the real lesson behind Burt’s words:

It’s not about never hurting each other--it’s about being able to heal from that hurt together, to talk about it and grow from it, together.

Dispensable

Every Spring, Blaine has the same problem.

Well it’s a problem for Kurt, anyway.

The moment the weather turns for the slightly better, Blaine turns himself into a white tornado, cleaning the apartment from floor to ceiling.

And, without fail, he always tries to hunt for the Dispensables.

“Why, pray tell, is this pile entirely composed of things from *my* side of the closet?”

“Because *you* have almost everything in duplicates.”

“They are collectors! If I ever use them or damage them, I will have a replacement.”

“They are taking too much room!”

“Not as much as your collection of cameras!”

“How dare you.”

Blaine pauses, holding a scarf in one hand and an empty cardbox in the other, before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“Maybe I overdid my impression of Marie Kondo.”

“And maybe I do have a hoarding problem.”

“Maybe we could do that sorting together.”

“Maybe we could find something else to do with all that free time.”

Blaine drops the box on the floor and carefully folds the scarf on the back of the couch.

“I like the way you think.”

“You even put a ring on it.”

Event

One lesson the Hummel-Anderson household always applies: make an event out of every possible situation.

During the first years, it does make sense. They celebrate their successes, their achievements, as one does.

Then, it grows into something almost like a private joke between them: every little source of happiness becomes the reason for a party, a true event, even if it’s just opening a bottle of champagne while they sit on the floor, munching on a bag of chips, just because there is a Golden Girls marathon.

Because when you find things to celebrate with the person you love most, the sad things are just a little bit less sad.

Farm

Blaine wakes up in a jolt, something pulling at his unconscious mind to pull him from his dream.

Maybe it’s the cold spot in the bed next to him, or maybe it’s the grumbling sound coming from the living room.

“Kurt?”

“...”

“Kurt what are you doing?”

“Nothing?”

Blaine comes closer, and Kurt is sitting on the couch with his laptop on his bare knees.

“Are you watching porn? ‘Cause you know you wouldn’t have to hide it from me.”

“Not porn.”

“Okay?”

Kurt closes his eyes before looking away, turning the laptop’s screen toward Blaine. “Don’t laugh.”

“Why would I--oh.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t expect that.”

“I know.”

“Farming Simulator 2010, that’s …”

“I know.

“... vintage, is what I was going to say. Any particular reason you needed to play that game at 2.14 AM?”

Kurt sighs, leaning his head into Blaine’s torso, now that Blaine stands closer. “It relaxes me.”

“Okay.”

“And I have been very tense.”

“Don’t need to tell me.”

“I know; so I wanted to unwind on my own to be a better husband.”

Blaine bends over to press a kiss to the top of Kurt’s head. “Farm away, darling.”

Grey

TW: anxiety

Most of the time, with the help of his therapist and different techniques he has developed over the years, Blaine can keep his anxiety at bay.

But some mornings, it’s not as easy.

Some mornings, the anxious little voice telling him he’s not worth the space he occupies is the loudest in his mind the moment he wakes up.

Some mornings, the sighting of grey skies without even a spot of blue can send him into a downward spiral he can’t seem to shake out of.

But with each passing year, Kurt becomes more attuned to the little physical signs Blaine’s anxiety lets out.

The tension in his shoulders, even as he wakes up, to which Kurt responds by closing his arms around Blaine’s upper body, forcing him to breathe with him until the tension melts away.

The way Blaine doesn’t say a word and doesn’t look directly at Kurt, to which Kurt responds by putting a cup of coffee in front of him and by kissing his temple.

Yes, Blaine’s anxiety is always around.

But with Kurt’s help, Blaine can keep it at bay.

History

Though they share a love for musicals, Kurt and Blaine don’t always have their obsessions in sync.

Unfortunately, it sometimes clashes.

Fortunately, the married couple has found a solution to keep from fighting over songs.

Medleys meet the Exquisite Corpse.

“I don't wanna talk

About things we've gone through

Though it's hurting me

Now it's history”, Blaine sings.

“History has its eyes on youuuu,” Kurt responds.

“You can dance

You can jive

Having the time of your life

See that girl

Watch that scene

Dig in the dancing queeeeeeen.”

“Hey not fair, there is no queen in Hamilton!”

“Hey, you’re the one who keeps insisting that Eliza is Queen!”

“True.”

Inconclusive

Around the seventh year mark, they wonder if they should … well, expand their couple’s horizon.

It’s a secret to none of their friends that the Anderson-Hummel have insane chemistry with one Starchild.

One evening, using the pretext of celebrating the comeback of the cronut on the foodie scene with one too many bottle of champagne, the three of them end up in bed together.

Some lubricant, condoms, giggles and panted names later, Kurt looks over the stunned figure of their friend to brush his fingers through Blaine’s sweaty curls.

“So?”

“Inconclusive.” Blaine sighs. “Yet.”

Eliot snorts between them. “Round number …?”

“Who’s counting?”

Join

A good way to keep the spark in its first meet glow is also to surprise each other.

One evening, Blaine comes home to Christmas lights suspended in the whole apartment.

“What the …”

“Welcome, sir,” Kurt says, wearing the Ringmaster’s outfit from his run as Barnum in Broadway’s Greatest Showman. “Would you join me for a very special evening?”

“I would,” Blaine says, smiling as he puts his hand in Kurt’s, and feeling his cheeks burning when Kurt brushes his lips against Blaine’s knuckles.

The evening is very special, Blaine tied to the armchair while Kurt takes off his whole outfit and feeds him bits of cheese and fruits and toasted bread.

Knit

“I’m bored.”

“I know. Why don’t you learn a craft?”

“Remember the last time I tried to learn a craft, like you put it?”

They both turn to the potter’s wheel they recycled into a coffee table. “Right. Maybe something less …”

“Space consuming?”

“Complicated.”

“What about knitting?”

“There’s an idea.”

Two days later

“Wha--”

“What?”

“Mon chéri, when we said knitting, I thought it would involve a couple of yarn balls and some needles.”

“This is yarn.”

“No, it’s not.”

Yes it is.

Learn

In a couple, some things come naturally, as easy as breathing.

Loving each other, for example.

For Kurt and Blaine, it’s knowing that whatever the storm, the tide will always bring them back together.

And some things are learned, through time and Life lessons.

What to cook as comfort food, for example.

For Kurt and Blaine, it’s finding out that they needed to be apart to be better for each other.

Some lessons are hard-learned, but eventually, they feel like they have always been known.

Meet

Dan is ready to slip under the table to take his ritual Christmas nap when Cecilia asks the question.

“How did you two meet?”

Now, all Dan can do is groan. “Nooo,” he moans, “why did you ask that?”

“Excuse you,” Kurt says, ruffling his son’s hair. “Don’t you like the way we met?”

“I heard that story at least 221 times,” he says, dropping his head to the table. “Besides, it’s just weird, when you think about it.”

Cecilia cocks one eyebrow at him. “Now you have to tell me.”

“Let me--”

Dan holds up his hand to stop his father in his tracks. “Nah, nah, nah, let me, because they will tell you that it’s so romantic, but in reality, Dad went to spy on Papa and Papa lied to Dad about a shortcut …”

Nip

“What is that thing sitting in that... thing?”

“That is a cat and she is sitting in a basket I knitted, thank you very much.”

“Since when do we have a cat?”

“Since Mrs Gimm’s had a litter and this one picked me.”

“Ah.”

“She went for me like she always knew me.”

“Aww.”

“And then she nipped my fingers.”

“That explains the band-aids.”

“Maybe.”

“So you decided to bring a feral cat into our house with a newborn because the only thing you knitted is that basket?”

“Feral, come on, maybe that’s an overkill, look how sweet she--Ouch!”

“Here, another kitten band-aid. Let me try.”

“Oh right, you’re a big beast tamer, right?”

“...”

“Is that her purring?”

“Either she’s purring or the neighbor just started a plane engine.”

“Oh yes, you’re purring, you little princess you …”

“Ahem.”

Opinion

Any couple counsellor will tell you this:

If you want a relationship to last, the most important thing to do is compromise, to make sure that both parties are happy.

Any couple will tell you this:

Some opinions are better than others. The only thing you can do, before choosing a hill to die on, is take a step back, breathe in and out a couple of times and--

“That’s so stupid it’s a wonder you can still breathe and talk at the same time!”

“I can’t believe you actually think that! What’s between your ears, lukewarm water?”

--start World War Three over the importance of the Beatles versus the Rolling Stones, I guess.

Possible

More seriously though, finding a middle ground is important, in any relationship. And the way to that middle ground can sometimes be summarized in one word.

“Possibility.”

Do you think you could agree to let me cook tonight, even though you say I burn everything?

Maybe.

May I buy regular milk instead of almond, because it gives me stomach aches?

You may.

Isn’t it your turn to change Kitty’s litter?

...Possible.

In just a few words, you can save your relationship from self-destructing, isn’t that something?

Remarkable

Over the years, through thick and thin, through storms and easy flows, the relationship formed by Kurt and Blaine only strengthens.

A fact that seems remarkable for a lot of their friends.

Their New York friends, I should say, since their Ohioan friends are not surprised to see them growing only stronger and more in love as time passes by, leaving them more united than they ever were when they were younger.

Is their relationship remarkable? Of course.

But not because they still look at each other with sparkles in their eyes, especially when they think nobody is watching.

No, it’s spectacular because it reminds everyone lucky enough to be with them that Love does exist.

Sisters

Over the years, Kurt and Blaine consider that they are the ones lucky enough to have been graced by the many women who entered their lives and remained there as chosen sisters.

Mercedes, Tina, Santana, even Rachel, of course, soul sisters who were meant to support them and challenge them to become better men.

Marley, Unique, Kitty, Jane--younger sisters who help both men to grow into mentors and future parents for Cecilia.

Lissa, Annie, Agnes--sisters of all ages who learn from them and teach them in return what they learned during their own lives until they met the couple.

Glee Club had taught them that family didn’t have to be born from blood, but life brought them a constellation of sisterhood that surrounds them and protects them, in a way, from themselves, from ever thinking they cannot get better.

Tub

“Blaine, I know that you’re really going Method for that role, but could you stop with the 1980, 1990 lingo?”

“As if!”

Kurt sighs before deciding to move on. “Do you like that ice cream? It’s from the new shop down the block.”

“It’s da bomb, hubby.”

“‘Da bomb’, really?”

Blaine has the decency to look slightly bashful. “Overdoing it?”

“Just a tad.”

“I’ll keep it to the theater, then.”

“Tubular.”

Ugly

When one uses his body as its professional tool, one is very peculiar about the way they see themselves.

And sometimes, as strong-minded the individual may be, societal expectations can become too heavy.

“Now I get it. I don’t get parts because I’m ugly.”

“Who said that?”

Kurt slams the bathroom cupboard closed, shaking his head at his own reflection. “I don’t need anyone to say it,” he seethes, “it’s obviously why none of the directors I auditioned for ever called back!”

Blaine comes to lean against the bathroom’s door frame. “Kurt …”

Kurt bends his head. “Blaine, don’t start. I know, deep down, that it’s not the reason, and that I’m not ugly. But right now,” he adds, turning his head toward Blaine without meeting his gaze, “that knowledge is buried deep, deep down.”

“Okay.” Blaine stretches close to Kurt, pecking his cheek. “Take all the time you want. But if you need my help digging for proof that you are quite the opposite of ugly, I’m right here. If you want to mull over it in silence, I can let you do it, and just stay here by your side, or walk around the block.”

“No. Stay.” Kurt finally looks up, leaning his forehead against Blaine’s. “I don’t feel so bad when you’re around.”

Vanish

Sometimes, when you are a couple of married actors, you have to accept that your husband is going to get a job when you don’t.

“I got the job!”

“See, I knew you were going to get a break! Which job?”

“The ad one!”

Blaine cocks his head to the side. “Which one? The one for the hotels?”

“No, the one for the detergent. You know, the pink one?”

“Vanish?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” Kurt chuckles. “I should try and remember it before the shoot!”

“I’m very proud of you,” Blaine says, pulling Kurt against him for a kiss. “Want to rehearse your text?”

“I would, if you weren’t unbuckling my be-hey!”

“Look, I can make your pants just … vanish.”

“You’re terrib--oh, wow.”

Worthless

Along the years, along the moves, along the different steps in Life, people gather things.

Not necessarily the most expensive things in the world, just mementos.

Little things, really, that most people would discard as just worthless junk.

But for Blaine, for Kurt, those little things are more precious than any of the things they bought once they started to get financially comfortable.

Like ticket stubs and Playbills from the shows they saw together.

Or like a ring made out of gum wrappers.

Yard

Speaking of financial comfort.

Once they became a household name, and once their student loans were reimbursed, both Blaine and Kurt agree.

If they are to be a family, if they are to raise a kid (or many), they need to buy a house.

It takes them a while, but they manage to save enough money to put the down payment on a cute little house in Jericho, a house with a luxurious yard where Kitty Cat can pretend to be the tiger she once was, and where their babies will be free to climb the trees and run around and drive their little bicycles or whatever.

“Quite the white picket fence, Hummel.”

“Anderson Hummel, and yes, so what.”

Santana rubs her very round belly. “Not complaining, nor criticizing. Just observing. I didn’t picture you as Wisteria Lane-adjacent.”

Kurt shrugs. “Nothing Desperate about wanting a good environment to raise a family.”

Zealous

As they reach their tenth year anniversary, Kurt and Blaine feel like they have reached a point in their relationship where their ship is sailing on its own, so to speak.

They have found their groove, they can still surprise each other while knowing each other’s habits and needs, and they have their baby.

Who cries every night.

Blaine is at his wits end looking for a solution to soothe his son’s teething pain, but nothing works.

Or so it seems.

“This here's a tale for all the fellas

Tryin' to do what those ladies tell us

Get shot down 'cause you're over zealous

Play hard to get, females get jealous …”

The sound of the song is the only sound around the house.

No cries, no whimpers.

Just Kurt, apparently “bursting a move”.

“Kurt?”

The song stops, along with one of Dan’s hiccups that announce a storm.

“Keep going, keep going!”

Kurt hesitantly returns to the song, coming into view as he bounces Dan in his arms.

“Young MC, really?”

In the same melody, Kurt replies between his teeth. “I don’t know what came over me, but I just started singing while he was crying and he sto-opped.”

“Magic.”

“Quite.”

“We need to give our thanks to Shuester, uh?”

“Over my dead body.”

#sometimes i write #klaine advent #todaydreambelievers #klaine

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apathycarestostudy · 4 years

Note

Any studying, motivation and procrastination tips please? Desperately in need of some before a new academic year starts.

Hello hello! Yes! I’m sorry I took a bit to get back to you with these - I just wanted to give you the best I got. So here ya go, I mixed up everything you asked for in a couple of strong tips. I’ve divided into preparing for the new semester, study tips, and then procrastination tips with a sprinkle of motivation all over it.

Prep:

Sooo the academic year is right around the corner (or dreadfully yet, already here), and you need to shift to get with the times. Fixing your sleep schedule? Getting your syllabus ready? That’s all important and good, but how do you keep the determination strong as the first few weeks go by? How to prepare better?

make a lessons learned note

I learnt this from my internship. It’s a good practice that after a project, you take some time to review what happened during the project and create a final report, concluding it with a couple bullet points of the lessons you learnt from it. If you need a feel of what that looks like, here’s my lessons learned from last semester:

Using OneNote is a waste of time

If you don’t keep up in the beginning, you’re going to show up for attendance and give the bare minimum to move on

You need to learn how to speak up during class - you know the answer, what’re you so nervous about?

Don’t fear marking up your books - it’s yours??? You paid for it??? Using highlighters are useful if used appropriately

Be careful about helping people - you’ve been caught four times helping friends while they kept stuff from you and got ahead

Y’all I had to stop myself lol. I planned to write my top three, but then kept clicking enter again and again. Well. Now you know my concerns.

Getting back on track though, you should take some time to write down the stuff you learned from last semester’s experience to know what you’re going to take with you, and what you’ll quit doing. It’s a strong, positive start, and it prevents you from making the same mistakes again.

delete/move stuff off your phone + organize your laptop’s folders

It’s better to keep our phones clear and ready for the new semester’s mess, right? I have a bunch of screenshots, and files, and notes on my phone that I don’t need to keep anymore, but I’m a bit of a hoarder :))) I like to keep stuff in case I wanna look back, be that girl people just know has something they’d need, or hell if I need to retake a class (it’s happened unfortunately). Maybe you got a junior you want to pass your stuff along to. So what do you do? Move it to your laptop of course!

Well, that’s what I do. If you don’t have a laptop, you can upload it somewhere (google drive etc.), attach them on emails, anything that works for you! There’s always somewhere you can put your stuff that’s private and safe.

That goes into my next point - be sure to take the time to reorganize your spaces now. Since I put it on my laptop, I organize my folders to my liking, make sure everything is where it should be with older ones, and create new ones for the coming semester. Just pop on some music, sit down and get cracking. It gives me a pleasant feeling after I look at everything when I’m done.

set up your calendar/planner!

This is a recurring tip that I think is good enough to reiterate. Whatever method you use to keep track of stuff needs to be updated, upgraded, and ready to go! If you’ve used something that failed mid-way through last semester, or you didn’t like but had to keep with it because you were in too deep, put that in your lessons learned record. Here’s your chance to change to a better system. It’s fine if you already started your new term - it’s still early enough to switch/set up a new one!

Make sure you don’t overdo it though. The point of this is to keep track of, say, assignments and quiz dates, not spend an unnecessary amount of time organizing and stuff and falling into the pit of preparing to study. If it works for you and has been working for you - keep going! But if it’s taking time and having any negative correlation to your performance, it’s better to do away with it than to keep going and have it be another lesson learnt next semester. I’ll be the first to say that I tried setting up a bujo for myself - bought markers and washi tape and all - and I gave up after three days of using it. And I set up an entire month and then some. It hurt my soul to admit that it was a waste of time for me, and not keep beating at it, but I did, and now it’s sitting here mocking me everyday. But I have time to watch it mock me ;)

My go-to organizational system: Microsoft To-do (not sponsored :((), phone’s calendar, phone’s notepad. That’s it.

create a night routine

People usually say fixing your sleep schedule and having a night/morning routine is good, but in my opinion, a night routine is stronger than both. For some reason, for the life of me, I can’t get my sleep schedule right unless some force stops me from staying awake. I tried getting in bed early and throwing my phone across the room - but I’d lay there for hours thinking about the next day so I don’t bother anymore. The morning routine just ruins my mood because I’d either fail miserably and feel worse, or feel overwhelmed. It’s better if both happen either circumstantially or organically for me.

Night routines set an easy-going mood, and it’s full of potential because it also sets the scene for the next day. By night routine, I don’t mean what you do before you sleep, I mean the consecutive things you do every night. For example, I play a round of games with my siblings (card games and board games), then shower, do my skin care routine (wash-toner-moisturizer that’s it lol), watch a video as I’m combing my hair (and then watch a couple more), feed my turtle, and then see what I want to do. Sometimes I sleep right after, other times I’m on my phone or reading a book. But just this set of recurring events calms me down when my life is chaotic, and it’s easier and more doable than morning routines for me.

Action:

Now we’ve set the scene, so it’s action time (I’m so lame).

don’t let work pass you by

In regards to studying, this is the - BIGGEST - tip I can ever give you. The ironic thing is, it’s still going to happen no matter how much you try, and that can damper your mood and your drive, but here’s my tip: MILK IT FOR ALL IT’S WORTH!!

If you know it’s going to happen eventually, don’t let it affect you - focus all your efforts not in doing it everyday, but maintaining it for as long as you possibly can. Don’t let your studies pass you for even a second. Work it like you work a job as long as you can, and you’ll end up surprising yourself on how much you had completed when you gotta review for quizzes and exams.

You know how they say exercise and earn your shower everyday? How about study and earn your play time everyday :)))

if it does, work backwards

So we’re here. You’re behind by two weeks. Like I mentioned up there, we knew we were going to end up here eventually (and if you didn’t, share your ways lol. no matter how much I cred myself with studying and getting shit done, I still don’t know what’s going on), so now what do we do? Work backwards. The prof/teach is at point S and you’re still curling the bottom of J? Start from S and go to R, then Q, then P....while maintaining the new stuff you’re learning after S. Pinch it in. We should aim to follow the class as much as we can so it’s more effective to study backwards and keep going with it. It’ll also help killing the thing that’s refusing to let you go faster with the beginning stuff, and you’ll be reviewing what you learnt in real time along with the class.

Don’t know why I said the previous tip was the best I had to offer when we both know that this one is the real G.

pathetic notes are still notes

This one is a weird one - I had an issue with notes for a beat. I have this belief that you should always make notes every class, no matter how much new stuff you learn, but then there’ll be days where I write three lines and it just hurts my soul for some reason. I guess it’s the incomplete page? The three lines I’ll add tomorrow and face this again? Not sure. But whatever it is, do not stop writing notes! If you learn something new that’s not written anywhere, or hell you just wanna jot it down somewhere more accessible, always write it down, no matter how pathetic your notebook’ll look. I had to get over that, so I thought it would be good to mention. Always. Take. Notes. Nothing is too much information on the race to securing your livelihood.

If you can’t get over it, maybe try printing the slides and making your notes on the borders. I started doing this for more technical courses that don’t get a lot of notes, and it works really well having it in one place.

(I should pin a picture, idk, I’m really proud of it.)

starting strong is good, consistency is even better

In the end, that person who walks in stronger than last semester are plenty, but the one who wins in the end is always that one person - what makes them different? They don’t watch the ones who’re running strong in the beginning and mess up their pace by either trying to keep up with them, do more, or discourage them. They maintain a consistent effort and benefit in the end. It’s the story of the hare and the turtle - consistent, slow effort beats rushing and getting out of fuel in the last stretch.

There was this one semester where it seemed like half my class decided that they were all going to be on all of a sudden, and it threw me off, made me insecure, and then I started comparing myself to them. The only thing that saved me was that I kept my consistent effort in the meantime because I had consequences if I didn’t perform - so at the end of it, it didn’t matter how hard they started. Only two out of the thirteen elevated their rank. And I was where I needed to be, so that feeling was wasted.

Well, not completely wasted now since I’m telling you. Focus on yourself. Stay consistent. It’s good to be aware of where everyone is, and use it to motivate you, but no negative feelings that’ll hold you back. Release it.

(also pro-tip: teachers don’t care about the loud ones, they care about the consistent ones)

Procrastination:

Now we got the ball rolling - how to avoid this monster? Also, if you still haven’t gotten the ball a-tumbling,

what do you fear?

Oftentimes it’s the fear of something that hinders us from starting. My common fears that keeps me procrastinating are fear of failure, fear of taking too long and wasting time, fear of finding out how little I know of the thing I haven’t learnt yet - I could keep going forever. It’s easier ignoring it and treating it like it’s not there than to face it, I know. But we wanna be better, so how can we?

Write down what you feel, get it out, and then study. A lesson I learnt from last semester was that journalling before I studied helped immensely. Just try it for a session - get out what you’re thinking about, and end it with an action item (I’m going to do xyz now) and then do it. It’s like a weight being lifted off of you. I’ve never felt so light studying in my life, I feel.

do, don’t tell yourself you will, do

shameful self plug: read this to see what I mean (specifically the you don’t need a lot to get started ramble)

don’t take on more than you can chew

Something that can kill your grind is if you overwhelm yourself by tying yourself down to things you know you won’t be able to handle later on. It kinda plays off the doing too much in the beginning - you’re setting yourself for failure if you don’t think through your decisions, and then fall into procrastination with the things that’d breed the most consequence. So be careful.

I’m not saying don’t apply yourself - it’s really good to get as much experiences (fun and useful) as you can. But don’t let it be at the expense of what matters. Your health, your faith, your studies - all these things matter more than....insert something here....yeah.

start everyday intentional, end every night with intentions

I’ll end it with this. Start your day intentional on getting stuff done, and you can cleanly avoid procrastinating. End it with good intentions for the next one, and you’ll keep this habit going. Whatever that is, finding your happy place, making a to-do list, praying, journalling, talking to someone - always try to wake up with the mindset that this’ll be your day, and end it with a pat on your back and a promise to do better - if you managed or not. Everyday is a new chance. Every midday is a chance. Now is your chance. It’s just a matter of being hungry and taking it.

Ooof I took water breaks writing this, and it still felt like I had more to say. Sorry for the length lol - I hope this helped in any way. And good luck! New semester, same you, new mindset, better results ;)) (I’m so lame lol).

By the way y’all, if you happen to be loud and consistent, share those tips also lol.

Here’s to our collective success!

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excitedlysuffering · 4 years

Note

Can you do that headcanon collection thing for Kiba please? Thank you very much

I’m so sorry for the wait I’m really struggling with inspiration rn like I have all the words but I just can’t write?? Anyways I hope you like nonnie❤️✨

Kiba Headcanons Collection

What He Looks For In An S/O~

Someone who appreciates animals. Of course, dogs are his favorites, but he doesn’t hate animals at all, not even cats.

Someone wild who knows how to have a good time, just like Kiba. He won’t enjoy dating a square, just being honest.

He wants a woman who’s not afraid to stand on her own two; the Inuzuka clan is primarily a matriarchy, meaning he’s used to strong-willed women.

He’s going to need an emotionally open person, he pretty much wears his heart out on his sleeve, so Kiba needs someone who can articulate their feelings.

He’s a possessive person, it’s in his nature, so a patient s/o would suit him best.

The saying ‘she’s beauty, she’s grace, she’ll kick you in the face’ is literally everything he’d ever want.

I can see him with someone smaller than him just because he has a thing for size differences.

He loves confidence and would swoon if his s/o took charge sometimes, in daily life, and in the bedroom.

Kiba is big on physical affection, so someone with the same love for touch is preferable.

Kiba leaves constant hickeys and you can’t convince me otherwise, so they’d best be used to it.

Akamaru has to like you. Period.

Relationship With Kiba Stuff~

This boy loves HARD, like with his whole heart, and he’s not afraid to show it either.

He’ll love taking you out on adventurous outdoorsy dates, usually, Akamaru will come with but every once in a while it might be the two of you.

He likes games and challenges. I could definitely see him turning a treasure hunt into a date.

He actually loves going on missions with you (there’s nothing sexier than watching his girl kick ass) and will let you do your thing without unnecessary worrying.

He’s not huge on giving gifts all the time, but he does enjoy treating you to nice places and dates.

He has the nose of a dog. So he can smell your… week before you even know it’s there.

“Hey, (Y/N)... I, uh, thought you could use this!” *shoves snacks, a heating pad, ice cream, and a teddy bear in your arms*

He’s not the greatest at picking up on moods, but once he figures it out he’ll be all over it.

You’re probably good friends with Hana and Tsume, which Kiba appreciates, even though he hates sharing you.

He definitely takes you to see the dogs and the puppies, especially when one is just born.

He’s unashamedly sensitive like just love him, please.

How To Annoy/Lose Him~

First of all, if Akamaru and you don’t get along. Akamaru was there from birth so, you know, if he doesn’t like you, sorry hun.

It’s one thing to be appropriately possessive, like not letting girls walk all over you to your man, but he does have female friends and he does not want to be caged.

If you’re not family-oriented. The Inuzuka clan is very much a pack family and everyone is very close.

Don’t ignore him or neglect him, he will be hurt.

Kiba enjoys playful banter, but he also knows where the line is and he expects you to as well

Being a genuinely rude person. Okay, yes, Kiba has anger management issues, but he’s not a mean person.

Not having compassion/empathy for others. It’ll disturb him, I promise.

Arrogance and vanity. Kiba knows he’s the shit alright, but he’s not a total jerk about it, and he expects the same from you.

Soft Kiba Things~

He’s actually pretty good at remembering things like important dates (thanks to his trusty calendar) so you’ll be hard-pressed to find him forgetting things like birthdays or anniversaries.

He has a dog plush toy that he will give to you when he’s off on missions. But when you’re off on missions, he’ll use your pillow since it smells like you.

He’s a huge cuddler and the position doesn’t matter as long as he’s close to you. (makes an adorable little spoon btw)

He definitely has a secret photo album/box full of candids, drawings from Sai, and little things that reminded him of you (i.e. a pretty flower, a quote, or a trinket) but he’d rather die than let it be found, it would ruin his bad-boy persona.

I feel like Kiba would like to feed you every once in a while. Like not in a weird, fetish way (iykyk) but a romantic thing that was rare?

He would love to train with you, like wow that’s my s/o and they’re so strong?

Kiba genuinely melts inside when he sees you and Akamaru interact. Like that’s his life long companion and the love of his life being friends? Woah.

He’s touch starved but for no reason at all except for the fact that he loves physical affection so please give him all the cuddles.

Random Kiba Facts~

His love languages are physical touch/quality time.

He’s not scared of thunderstorms in a traditional way, but just like dogs, the sounds and lightning are overstimulating and he’ll usually spend it with ear canceling headphones and in the basement.

Since everyone has a unique natural smell (he really liked yours) he’ll most likely complain if you wear heavily scented perfumes/body wash.

He knows he’s not naturally responsible so he creates detailed lists and schedules for himself.

Kiba has a perfectly working bed, but he always ended up on the floor so that’s where he sleeps now.

Contrary to popular belief, he likes to go as vampires for Halloween (he says he’s a werewolf 364 days of the year let him have one day) because of his fangs and ‘drop-dead beauty’ (his words).

He radiates heat like a furnace but somehow still finds a way to be cold at night?

Kiba has a good singing voice. It’s deep and melodious and no one can tell me differently.

He’s alright at regular cooking but amazing at gathering spices because he can smell the combinations and stuff so he’ll help you season things, but that’s about it.

He’s a huge overthinker please help him

Little Things~

Favorite:

Place to kiss: The space where your neck meets your shoulder, something about it just really riles him up.

Way to hug: He loves lifting you up so your legs wrap around his waist. He loves holding you and being able to kiss your neck.

Thing to do with you: He loves hiking or going on long walks, especially at sunset or sunrise.

Cuddle position: He actually loves to lay on your chest and listen to your heartbeat with your arms wrapped around him.

Type of date: Basically anything that includes physical activity or adventure.

This or That:

More of a spring person, a lot of new puppies are born then and the weather is finally nice again.

Morning kind of guy, he loves to go go go and his activities usually require daylight.

He likes to cook, even if he’s not that good at it. He’ll enjoy helping you in the kitchen.

Rarely reads for any reason. Don’t read to him either, he’ll be super bored.

Conflict Happenings~

The two of you will probably have more stupid ‘I’m right, you’re wrong’ type arguments, more than real fights tbh.

That is not to say that Kiba won’t participate in a fight. Cause he will.

The both of you are probably screaming so loudly no one knows what anyone is saying it’s just loud.

You getting mad will turn him on tbh (and vice versa too tbh)

Depending on how bad the fight is, he might just start making out with you or yell at you more for distracting him with your hotness.

You’ll be hard-pressed to make him back down during a fight if he’s truly heated, so pick your battles wisely hun.

He really can be sensitive, especially since he will value your opinion so much, so be careful with your words.

In general, he’s not really focused on hurting your feelings, more on winning the argument.

Will probably storm off for a while to calm down, but he is always back before the day is over.

The two of you are used to having fights like that, so a big cuddle session is in order when it’s all said and done.

Modern Kiba~

He’s definitely the sexy bad boy you couldn’t bring home to mother and he both owns and rocks his persona.

He secretly (not so secretly) likes dogs more than his peers, even if he is usually very social.

He’s the one who always manages to bring alcohol to the parties.

I could see him on a football or soccer team, and being really good too.

He’s charismatic, funny, good looking, street smart, and has all the It Man™ qualities and I know he’s the captain/president of some club or team.

He’s not naturally super smart but his mother ingrained good habits into him so he’s generally pretty good at studying, probably still has a tutor though.

He’s a very subtle F-boy, has a few girls he does regularly that don’t know about each other and that’s that.

He probably has a part-time job at a shelter, since he’s not big on working.

Always at parties and is always the center of attention. Everyone loves him.

The red fangs were a result of him being absolutely hammered yet everyone seemed to find them incredibly hot.

He’s a loyal friend, but he also won’t hesitate to cut you off if you wrong him (he liked his dog better anyway)

He’s so messy it’s up to his roommate to keep him in shape, and thankfully it’s Shino, who somehow manages to keep it a decently tidy living space.

Has the worst hangovers ever but still never learns??

He’s the wild friend that spices up everyone’s life and knows that you need his craziness.

Bite me, Kiba, plz

#naruto scenarios #kiba x reader #headcanon collection #requested

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mandadoration · 4 years

Text

you’re a fine girl - i

summary: Agent Whiskey would really like you to say his real name for once, and you refuse, playing this little game of his until he finally makes you say it. The circumstances for it aren’t exactly ideal, though.

word count: 3, 758

pairing: agent whiskey (Jack Daniels) x reader

warnings: canon-typical violence (and then some), swearing

a/n: Don’t ask me how the layout of Statesman HQ works. I really don’t know, and I’ve watched the movie to try and glean some more info, but I’ve decided, like many things, to bullshit it. This will have a predetermined length of three chapters!

chapters: i

Read this on AO3

You think it’s hilarious just how stereotypically American the Statesman agency was. Besides the front of it, a Bourbon whiskey distillery that just happens to have racehorses (you never understood that part) on a large expanse of land and have a large influence on the liquor industry all over the US, the agents that were a part of it were just so in-your-face full-blooded American. Hell, even your equipment reflected that, with electric lassos and souped-up sawed-off double barrel shotguns, to cowboy boots with razor sharp spurs and Stetsons designed for stealth and espionage. Statesman was 100% committed to proudly showing off their roots. But you couldn’t really shit on them too much since you were one of their agents as well. That would be severely discrediting you and the work you do.

Even if some of the agents teasingly call you a city-slicker.

Although you were a Statesman through and through like your mother before you, you had been raised on the less… southern half of the country because of where she was mainly stationed. Good ol’ New York was a whole different territory than Kentucky. She had still made sure you kept up with your training and be ready at a moment’s notice to take over for her. Statesman were proud of their line of agents, names often passed down from parent to child. Built in loyalty, you supposed, and a good way to keep an eye on those who knew secrets. As the world expanded and keeping the peace grew harder by the minute, they’ve strayed far from that tradition, and the organization grew to include people that had no prior connection to it. Your mom had been insistent she at least stay true to that part of Statesman, and often showed you how to watch over New York from the high rise building to groom you for the position in the future until you graduated from your unofficial codename of Ice Tea. But you had moved south to live on a small ranch a few miles from the distillery after she had died on a recon mission instead of staying up north in the concrete jungle. You inherited her position and her moniker as Agent Brandy, supervisor of the intelligence part of the agency and relocating to home base at the same time, but Agent Whiskey had taken up position up in New York in your stead.

Speaking of Whiskey, there he was, sauntering up to you with a smile playing on his lips as you flicked through reports on your tablet. You spare him a quick glance and a polite smile before you turn your attention back to the reports and mission debriefs, hoping that was enough to leave you alone, but instead he leans against your desk and crosses his arms, and you try your damndest not to look at how his arms make the seams on his jacket strain.

There’s no animosity between you and Whiskey at all, and you’ve said as much when Champagne informed him he would be taking over the New York territory instead of you. You didn’t feel guilty or mad or anything really that you decided to move closer to Statesman because it was your choice, and Whiskey had taken it in stride. You two were just doing your jobs, and that was all. You would even go to say that you were close friends with him, giving him pointers about the secrets of New York while he told you all the gossip about the other agents. The work he did would make your mother proud.

But why was he so insistent on hanging around at the Statesman headquarters in Kentucky so much?

“Your mission debrief isn’t scheduled until Tuesday, Agent Whiskey,” you say, eyes roving over your calendar before swiftly swiping it off your screen to pay closer attention to Tequila’s report. That man was awful with writing. Did he even have the spell check on? You click your tongue and run the editing software, intent on letting that run in the background while you browsed through various agent requests (there was Gin asking if you could fashion a 200 proof liquor), but Whiskey puts a hand on your tablet and pushes it out of your view.

“I know, sugar,” he says in that damn Southern accent that manages to make your ears burn. “Just thought I’d come down here to see my favorite intelligence supervisor.” You roll your eyes, but can’t help the smile that threatens to split your face. You turn your tablet off and put it down.

“Do you know many intelligence supervisors?” you ask, but your efforts to get him to leave are already an afterthought at the back of your mind. Every time you hold a conversation with him, the amalgamation of your New York and Southern accent sounds crass compared to the honeyed drawl of Whiskey. Two completely different regions. You suppose he might feel the same whenever he’s in New York. Perhaps you two had more in common than you had initially thought.

You’re off track. It’s maddening how easily he is able to pull a smile or a laugh from you and completely derail you. Even on the worst of your days, he’s able to ease you with just a reassuring smile or touch. Whiskey shrugs and shifts where he sits.

“You got me there,” he laughs. “But that don’t mean I can’t come see you, does it?” You rest your chin on your hand as you fiddle with your tablet pen. He’s trimmed his mustache, you note.

“I suppose it doesn’t, Agent Whiskey,” you say. Anytime he flies over to the Statesman HQ, you usually see him the same day he lands, if not, you’re the first thing he goes to see. It’s sweet.

“What does it take for me to convince you to call me Jack, sweetheart?” Whiskey asks, nearly whines, really. He’s been insisting you call him by his real name in private recently, insisting that you were far past those formalities.

“When you stop calling me those pet names of yours,” you retort back. He looks mock-offended.

“That’s never gonna happen,” Whiskey says. You raise an eyebrow.

“Then there you have your answer,” you say simply, and go to pick up your tablet again when it chimes, but Whiskey stops you and pushes it back down flat against the desk.

“You work too much,” he says, as if that was a decent enough reason to interrupt your work. “Pay some attention to me instead.”

“And I’m starting to think you don’t work enough,” you sigh, and slide the tablet out from under his hand and you turn it back on and check over the editing software. “God knows you spend enough time pestering me.” You don’t tell him that you don’t mind. In the hectic pace in your lives, Whiskey is a nice constant that you find yourself falling back on.

The software has managed to fix most of the typos and obvious grammar issues, but it’s mangled the nuances of Tequila’s informal writing. You sigh again and swipe the report onto your computer screen to manually edit it before you can send it to Champagne. Whiskey hops off of your desk, and he walks around it to lean over your shoulder to skim the report as well.

He’s close enough for you to smell his cologne. Smoky, mellow, and warm.

“Why don’t you just send that off to Ginger to edit? Or Soda?” he asks, voice rumbling in your ear. “‘m sure you have other things to do other than grade Tequila’s piss poor work.” You clear your throat and try your best not to become too distracted.

“They don’t have high enough clearance to read this report,” you answer. “Nor do I think they have the patience to. Besides, Ginger is tech and Soda is medical. They’d either shoot themselves or shoot me.” Whiskey laughs and leans in a little closer.

“But I have the clearance to read this as you edit?” he asks, voice low. “You flatter me, Brandy.” You blink, then gasp, whirling around in your chair and narrowly missing clipping his chin with the back of your chair as you push him away from you and back around your desk, smacking him as you do.

“You are a menace!” you exclaim. Whiskey just laughs, humoring you and letting you push him when it would be frightfully easy to just stand there. He blocks your hits and eventually grabs a hold of your wrists to stop you.

“You love it,” he says, and your face flushes as you try to scowl at him.

“Get out of my office so I can finish this report,” you order, pointing at the door. Whiskey pouts, but makes his way to the door.

“Yes, ma’am,” he sighs. He tips his hat at you. “You be a good girl while I’m gone, sweet thing,” he says in a sing-song voice, and the door clicks shut behind him before you can do some serious bodily harm to his person.

---

You don’t really know what constitutes being “a good girl”, and you don’t really have the chance to find out because you meet with Whiskey again a few hours after he had barged into your office when Champagne calls you up to discuss some technicalities that he had remained vague on.

It’s a short underground tube ride to the Statesman office building a few miles outside the distillery, and an even shorter elevator up to the top floor. Whiskey is already there when you walk in, so you go ahead and take a seat across from him, pulling up your notes in case anything important pops up. You give him a small wave, and he tips his hat at you with a smile. You turn to the man sitting at the head of the table.

“Well, Champ,” Whiskey says, “why’d you call us here?” Champagne fiddles with the lid of a decanter of whiskey before he smacks his lips together and leans back in his chair.

“Statesman is considering adding another location in California, and I need your expertise,” he announces. He motions to you. “Sent the plans to your tablet, Brandy, but here’s the gist.” The t.v. screen at the other end of the table switches from Statesman stocks to a blueprint of a high rise located in San Francisco, alongside some smaller buildings scattered over the city. “I’m planning on sending Chardonnay over to oversee construction, but this is only the third location to be located in such a large city.” You skim over the notes. Although they wouldn’t be building a distillery, there would be a sub-HQ over there, as well as some Statesman-sponsored bars to keep up surveillance. “The first one being New York, and the other in Nevada.”

“Is there something we should keep an eye on?” you ask, scrolling through various material requests. While the other could handle the usual materials, you would have to put in a special order for the military grade stuff. “What’s the occasion?” Champagne shrugs when you glance over your tablet.

“It’s been something I’ve been thinking about,” he says. “Stocks are doing good, and there's no looming threat- seems like a good time as any.” You nod.

“Then why us?” Whiskey asks. “I think Brandy is more than capable of handling this herself.” Champagne furrows his brows.

“You are in charge of our New York office, aren’t you?”

“Brandy grew up preparing to take over for it,” Whiskey says.

“Well--”

“He’s right, sir,” you pipe in. “Whiskey’s about to go in for a mission anyways. There’s no point loading his already full plate. I can handle it.” Champagne presses his mouth in a hard line, but eventually taps the table.

“Alright then. Brandy, I’ll let Chardonnay know you’ll be taking part in it so he can refer to you with questions. Agents, you’re dismissed.”

Whiskey moves for the door, but pauses when you don’t follow him. You wave him off. “I’ll catch up with you; just need to talk to Champagne about something.” He nods, and leaves. You back around to face Champagne with narrowed eyes. “What are you up to, old man?” He tilts his head and pours some whiskey into his glass.

“What do you mean?”

“Bringing Whiskey into this,” you clarify. “You know I can handle this project by myself; why try to rope him in?”

“Thought it be a good experience,” Champagne says, taking a sip and swishing it around his mouth before he turns to spit it out into the spitoon. You wrinkle your nose.

“For Whiskey?”

“For the both of you,” he corrects. “Whiskey gets to learn more about the technical aspects, you get to, well, spend time with him.” You raise an eyebrow.

“And I want to spend time with him because…?”

“Don’t you know?” Champagne asks. You shake your head.

“What? We’re good friends, but we’ve got different jobs,” you say. “So I don’t see a reason why I should be spending time with him outside of what’s necessary.” Champagne just hums with a pensive look on his face.

“Alright then, girl.” He waves a hand at you. “Off to work.” And Champagne doesn’t elaborate any further.

---

You are far too busy trying to sort out the semantics of some sort of stirrings of a coup on a Chilean website to go and debrief Whiskey when Tuesday rolls around, so you send Ginger in your stead. She accepts without complaint, but you can see how she frowns when you tell her so. You’ve never gotten the details as to why the two never seem to get along, but Ginger is the most capable person you can think of to take care of things when you’re not able to.

It takes you a solid 45 minutes to try and go through the Chilean Spanish compared to the Castilian variant you know, but you determine that the rumors of a coup bears no real weight and all it is are empty threats despite the traction it’s gained so far. You suppose you could’ve run the translation, but there were too many nuances and codes that couldn’t be translated over. Just to be sure, you set up a surveillance bot to continue to track the progress and alert you if anything significant happens. By the time you do, Ginger walks in, looking a little frazzled. You frown. “You good, Liz?” Ginger just puts down the debrief folder on your desk as she plops down in the chair across from you. You raise an eyebrow, but slide the folder over and survey the notes she’s taken during the debrief. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just Whiskey complaining that he has to fly to Spain to deal with some black market firearms dealers that have gotten too confident. Apparently last time he was there, some sailors tried to swindle him. There’s some quotes of his with choice words in the margins saying so, accompanied by a doodle of him with an angry expression. “Whiskey give you a hard time?” you guess. She nods and takes off her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“I honestly don’t understand how you can stand him sometimes,” she says. You shrug.

“He treats me fine, if not a little persistent,” you note mildly. Ginger snorts and puts her glasses back on. “Hasn’t given me a reason to dislike him. Yet.”

“That’s ‘cause he likes you,” she says. Your stomach flutters at her comment. Then after a moment of pondering, Ginger says, “Think he was in a bad mood because you weren’t the one debriefing him.” You frown.

“Would it have mattered if I did?” you ask. “You’re perfectly capable.”

“It’s not capability,” Ginger sighs, leaning forward and resting her forearms on your desk. The motion jostles the cup of pens on your desk and you reach to adjust it back to its place. You click a few things on your computer to pull up the flight details for Whiskey. Scheduled for 5:50pm, an overnight flight that lands in a remote location in Madrid where then he would be promptly escorted to Andalucia.

You wonder if he’ll come visit you before he leaves.

You shake the thought out of your head before you go back to look at Ginger, who’s looking at you curiously. “If not capability, then what?” you ask, fighting to keep down the blush that’s threatening to overtake your face.

“You really don’t know?” she asks, almost critically. You furrow your brows. There’s that question again.

“Is there something I should know?”

Before Ginger can answer, a knock resounds at your door. You give Ginger an apologetic look before you call out, “Come in!” You don’t know why you’re surprised, but it’s Whiskey, again, with a bright smile on his face before his eyes darken at the sight of Ginger. She bristles.

“I’ll see you later,” she says, reaching over and giving your hand a small pat before she gets up to brush past Whiskey, and she closes the door behind you. Whiskey seems to relax at that, and takes the seat she was in.

“If you’re here to complain about going to Spain, Agent Whiskey, I can’t do anything about it,” you immediately say before he can get a word in. He takes off his hat and puts it on your desk, running a hand through his hair.

“I wasn’t here to complain,” Whiskey says, chuckling. “You wound me, Brandy.” He puts a hand over his heart and stares at you with a woefully sad face, looking at you with big, warm brown eyes, akin to a kicked puppy. “Missed my favorite intelligence supervisor at the debriefing.” You throw a pen at him, but he just catches it and puts it in with the rest without breaking eye contact.

“Doubt you’re here just to see me,” you say. “Shouldn’t you be packing for your flight?”

“I’ve got time,” Whiskey says. “If I remember correctly, it’s not until 6:00. Gives me a little under 2 hours until I gotta leave.”

“5:50,” you correct him automatically. “So less than that. You’ll wanna leave in an hour or so to account for traffic.” The grin that spreads across his face makes your heart beat a little faster.

“You keepin’ track of when I’m ‘bout to leave?” he purrs, leaning forward. You scoff, but think in the back of your mind that there’s some truth to that.

“I’m the one that booked your flight with Triple Sec,” you say dryly. “Be weird if I didn’t know what time exactly, Agent Whiskey.” Whiskey hums, but leans back in his chair and spreads his legs in an almost obscene matter that leaves you thrumming in your skin.

“Jack,” he says.

“Hm?”

“My name is Jack.” You laugh.

“I know what your name is, Agent,” you say. “It’s kinda my job to know everybody. Feel like we’ve already talked about this about a million times by now.”

“Still, it’d be nice to hear you say it,” he says, almost absentmindedly as he picks at his nails, brows furrowed in a vulnerable expression. Your face falls at his soft tone. To be honest, your refusal to say his name was more because you perceived it as a game. Whiskey would press you to actually call him by his name, and you would coyly refuse, and he would leave with a promise that he would get you to say it one way or another. But something is clearly bugging him.

You reach a hand forward, towards him, touching the other edge of your desk. Close enough for him to reach for it. His gaze snaps to your hand, and something tells you that Whiskey wants to. There is some kind of longing in his eyes that the firm, hard line of his mouth is trying its hardest not to betray. “You okay?” Whiskey’s fingers twitch. Something holds him back.

He clears his voice, forcing a smile on his face, and the moment is broken. “Right as rain, sugar,” he says. “Pre-mission jitters, I suppose.” You suppose that’s not totally unwarranted. Whiskey would be going on into the field on his own due to the delicacy of the mission, the only backup available being Triple Sec piloting the plane. And, well, Whiskey didn’t exactly blend in with the typical Madrid population with his loud voice and louder personality. Statesman didn’t have a base out in Europe either. You give him a reassuring smile, and you try not to think too hard at how the tension seems to melt out of him at that.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” you soothe. You retract your hand, and honestly at this point it seems as though Agent Whiskey has taken up permanent residence in your mind because you swear you spot some sort of deep emotion as his eyes trail after it. “Just like you always do, Whiskey.” The muscles in Whiskey’s jaw work as he clenches his teeth together before he claps his hands and stands up, that same charming smile on his face but not quite reaching his eyes.

“Well I suppose that is some improvement!” he says. You tilt your head.

“What do you mean?” Whiskey pulls the flask off his belt and takes a swig.

“Got you to say my codename without all the preamble, now, didn’t I?” he says, winking at you. You stammer and flush red with embarrassment. He holds up his hands in surrender. “Now before you start wailing on me like last time,” he says, “I’ll see myself out. Like you said, I still need to pack. I’ll see if I can bring back a souvenir for you while I’m across the pond.” You cross your arms.

“That won’t be necessary.” Whiskey shrugs and heads for the door.

“Can’t stop me, can you?” You smile at him.

“Guess not,” you say, almost to yourself, then your gaze falls to his hat still sitting on your desk. “Wait, Whiskey, your--” He holds up a hand.

“Hold on to it while I’m gone, ‘kay?” he asks. You nod. “Good girl. Give me something to look forward to when I come back.” You make a motion to grab a pen, bursting out laughing when he moves to catch it when you feign a throw. He smiles, too, more genuinely this time. “See you in a couple days, darling.”

And you can’t help but start to miss him when the door clicks shut behind him.

---

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