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toastedkiwi · 3 years

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Goodnight

Summary: Chris facetimes you.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Roommate!Reader

“Bubba, I think your cats are trying to kill me,” Chris said the second you pick up his call.

“What do you mean?” You asked placing your phone up against the wall.

“I mean that I woke up this morning to Marie on my face trying to keep my mouth closed as Berlioz strangled my throat,” he said.

You watched as he paced around getting the house ready for him to go to bed. You know he’s fond of having natural light coming in and he loves opening up the curtains in the morning to get his day started.

“They also keep tripping me,” Chris said. “I’m scared for my life.”

You laughed. He finally looks at his phone screen to see that you’re in his big bathroom with wet hair and one of his t-shirts.

“It’s true, Munchkin! I got so many scratches on my arm. They are out for blood, Y/n, and I’ll be their first victim. Then Dodger will be next,” he said.

“We both know that Dodger gets along with Berlioz,” you said. “He even lets that cat eat some of his food.”

“It’s gonna be a fat cat. I also have scheduled an appointment for your cats so they can get their shots,” Chris informed. “And we can figure out when Berlioz can get his balls cut off and Marie can get spayed.”

You giggled, “balls.”

“You’re such a child,” he said shaking his head.

“You’re such a whiny little bitch,” you said.

“That is not nice— Dodger, bedtime,” Chris said.

“Do we ever call each other nice things?” You asked.

“I call you Bubba—,” he said heading down the hallway to his bedroom.

“You also call Dodger that,” you said.

“Yeah. I also call you Honey, Darling, Sugar— oh yeah! I fucking figured out what a sugar baby is, you fucking cunt,” Chris hissed.

You covered your mouth hysterically laughing.

“You fucking jackass! You embarrassed me on a fucking live. My baby sister had to tell me what the fuck a sugar baby is,” he ranted oozing his Boston accent. “I’m getting fuckin’ DMs asking me if I can be their sugar daddy! I’m not that fuckin’ old! Im only 39 living with a fuckin’ 20 something year old popstar, 2 fuckin’ cats, and a dog! I don’t have anytime for a sugar baby nor you suggesting that you are mine! It’s outrageous! It’s horse shit! Some people fuckin’ believe it too! But your ass makes more money than me!”

“Are you good?” You asked as he takes a deep breath.

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

You grinned and put your hair up. He climbs into his bed where a kitten is already on one of his pillows.

“How was filming?” Chris asked seeing that you’re starting your nightly routine.

“It was fine,” you said.

“Was it for... the one song that you and Machine Gun Kelly did or...?” He asked.

“Nah, I did the angsty song that you haven’t heard yet,” you said.

Chris yawns loudly and asked, “when can I hear it?”

“You’ll hear it with everyone else in the world,” you said.

“Lame. I live with you. I’m your emotional support animal,” he said. “I deserve to hear your masterpiece.”

“Dude, you can wait,” you said.

He groaned and pouted like a little kid.

“That look will not work on me,” you said pointing at the camera.

“But, Huuuuuuney,” Chris whined.

“Baaaaaaaby,” you mocked.

“I can put you on the streets, you turd,” Chris said making you laugh.

“Oh, but you see I’m in your mansion while you’re in your suburban white mom’s house,” you said. “All of your expensive shit is here, pretty boy, along with your Camero.”

“That was a gift from RDJ,” he said. “I should probably get it shipped out here.”

“I can make that happen. I was thinking about getting my car out there as well so I’m not stealing yours all the time,” you said.

“You might as well move all your shit out here,” Chris suggested.

“You sure you want that?” You asked.

“I’m pretty fucking sure we’re stuck with each other, Y/n,” he said.

“I knew that the second you practically kidnapped me and made me dog sit Dodger the night we met,” you said making Chris smile at the memory.

“I guess I have been kidnapping you since the beginning,” he said.

You laughed and said, “I told ya.”

“Don’t get snotty,” he sassed.

“How am I being snotty?” You asked.

“You just are— what are you putting on your face?” Chris asked.

“It’s a mud mask,” you said.

“Shouldn’t it be brown?” He asked.

“It’s blueberries and yogurt,” you said showing him the package.

“Then it’s not a mud mask,” Chris said. “That’s just blueberries and fuckin’ yogurt smushed together in that little weird packaging. I can make it myself.”

You giggled and continued to apply the pale blue colored mask upon your skin. He rolled onto his side and propped up his phone on the nightstand. He grabbed his book as well. There’s a comfortable silence between the both of you as you’re finish applying your mask and cleaning up. Chris has Dodger cuddling up with him and he’s flipping to the right page of his book.

“What are you reading this time?” You asked.

“A book,” Chris stated.

He doesn’t need to look that your blue face isn’t too happy about his answer. It makes him smile.

“So,” you said heading into his bedroom.

Chris puts down his book flat on his chest and looks at you. He can’t help but reach over and take a screenshot.

“Why the fuck did you just take a screenshot?” You asked.

“‘Cause I need to look back on that face,” Chris said. “When you look like the chick from Charlie & The Chocolate Factory.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned. “You. Are. Not. Posting. It!”

“Don’t provoke me,” he said.

“You’re so sassy,” you said. “Oh! Guess what!”

“I’m not guessing,” Chris said.

“Please? Please just guess,” you pleaded with a pouted lip.

“Fine... you’re... getting lip injections,” Chris said.

You end up hanging up on him. He laughed and tried to call you back but you don’t pick up. It takes him three tries until you pick up.

“No, Chris, I’m not getting lip injections. I’m going on the VMAs and I’m gonna fucking shit on your name,” you said.

“I can’t wait to watch it,” he smiled.

“I hope you eat shit,” you said.

“That’s my line,” he snorted.

“Whatever,” you sassed going back into the bathroom.

“Are you sleeping in my bedroom?” Chris asked.

“Yeah,” you said.

“Why?”

“‘Cause I miss you,” you mumbled.

“Awww, I miss you too,” he cooed. “You’ll be back soon.”

“I know,” you said.

“Oh, there’s Satan,” Chris said.

Marie jumps up on the bed. Chris is quick to flip the camera around and show you your little white kitten.

“She isn’t Satan,” you said.

“Yes she is! You just don’t believe me,” he said as the kitten made its way up to him.

“Cause you’re a liar,” you said.

“You’re the liar, you fucking blueberry,” Chris said.

“Am I a blueberry or a liar?” You asked turning on the faucet.

“I’m gonna put that on a shirt and sell it,” he said flipping his camera back on him.

Your cat curls up in between the space between his neck and shoulder. You wash away the mask off your face. Chris waits patiently for you to finish up and come back on the screen. He yawned loudly.

“You tired, Bear?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

“Oh look at you three!” You squealed seeing them.

You take a screenshot of them of course making Chris huff.

“Where’s Berlioz?” You asked.

“I dunno. Probably destroying our house,” Chris said. “Or plotting my murder.”

“Why would the cats murder you? You feed them,” you said and turned off the bathroom lights.

“I don’t know their motives,” he said.

You laughed and climbed into his big bed. You get under the covers and lay on your side looking at your phone.

“You’re looking comfy in my bed,” Chris said.

“It’d be better with Dodger and my kitties,” you said.

“Well, Honey, you just outta come back to Boston,” he said.

“And I will,” you said.

You both continue talking until he ultimately crashes. You screenshot your roommate who looks so peaceful in his bed filled with animals.

“Goodnight, Chrissy. Goodnight, Marie. Goodnight, Dodger. Goodnight, Berlioz,” you said.

You watch them for a good minute before hanging up.

Taglist:

@thefallenbibliophilequote @notbrooklynsblog @plokyu23 @anacrcarvalho

Credit to @firefly-graphics for the divider.

A/N: DM me or send a message to my inbox to be in this series’s taglist. It’s easier to track instead of comments.

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans #chris evans fluff #chris evans x famous!reader #chris evans x popstar!reader #chris evans x rockstar!reader #fluff #roomies taglist #roomies #chris evans x roommate!reader #coronachronicles #corona chronicles

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travoltacustom · 3 years

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HPMI ARB April Fool’s Day Voice Lines

It's a little late since the lines are gone from the homescreen, but here are all of this year's (2021) ARB's April Fool's Lines!

You can however listen to them in the game's COLLECTION. In voice lines, they should be labelled as マイルーム（エイプリルフール), at around the middle of the voice collection.

There will also be 'Spring Voice Lines' but I won't be translating these - they'll be in My Room until the 14th.

Please click the READ MORE for the lines

-- ICHIRO --

1. It’s a good day to play a joke. The problem is, I can’t think of one on the spot… How about you?

2. I wanna eat some macarons~. Well, I wonder if I can surprise my younger brothers this April Fool's Day

-- JIRO --

1. Earlier, Nii-chan said he wanted to eat macarons so I bought some. Eh? Huh, what do you mean it’s a lie?...!?

2. Hey, from now on, I’m aiming to be a guitarist. Hahah! Just kiddin’, just kiddin’. How’s that dramatic performance? Huh? I’m not good at lying?... S-Shut up!

-- SABURO --

1. I’m not gonna bother to come up with lies on April Fool’s Day. I’m busy since I’m going to buy Ichi-nii macarons.

2. What’s the point of playing along with April Fool's Day? Playing around with fake news is ridiculous.

-- SAMATOKI --

1. What!? Rio’s opening a restaurant…? This invite’s a lie, right? Shit! Which is it?

2. Just cause it’s April Fool's Day, you think you can lie to me…?

-- JYUTO --

1. I’ve received news that Rio’s going to open a restaurant… This might just be a lie for April Fool's Day, but would the Rio we know lie like this…? Shit. I’ve got no choice but to go despite the high risk.

2. While “falsehood” is something that I should be concerned about in my profession, a humorous April Fool’s joke isn’t a bad idea.

-- RIO --

1. I tried to tell a lie like Arisugawa told me, but will this really deepen the unity of our team...? There’s a chance they’ll take it seriously. I’ll prepare a feast for us just in case...

2. It’s not like me to lie, but for such an event, it can’t be helped. I hope you’ll enjoy it to the fullest.

-- RAMUDA --

1. If you’re lying for April Fool’s Day it has to be done in the morning, so then you’ll be done in the afternoon☆ After that you have to tell the truth!

2. Today’s April Fool’s Day so I’ve set up a little hidden camera☆ Who should I pick?♪ It would be real fun to pick on Dice☆

-- GENTARO --

1. [ In an 'old gremlin voice' ] I could never! Even if I was told to lie, I could never ever deceive people! It is my creed to live my life as truly honest!

2. April Fools Day, hm? What if today we don’t tell any lies today, and only tell the truth to make fun of Arisugawa?

-- DICE --

1. Gentaro’s definitely going to tell a lie today, right? Heheh, I’ve already prepared so I won’t be fooled! Ah, maybe I can give it right back to him!

2. Earlier, Ramuda and Gentaro contacted me saying that they’d take my organs and sell them if I didn’t pay them back. This is way too sudden! Someone please tell me it’s a lie~!!!

-- JAKURAI --

1. April Fool's Day. In France, it’s called ‘April Fish’s Day’, and it seems that children try to stick pieces of paper with fish on others’ backs. Isn’t that such a cute tradition?

2. You want to know what’s in my glass? Fufu, it’s Japanese sake, I haven’t had a drink in a while… What, did you believe me? It’s just water.

-- HIFUMI --

SIDE Ａ: I can’t tell a lie just because it’s April Fool’s Day. I don’t want one of my kittens to be hurt because I lied to them.

SIDE Ｂ: I told Doppo to make a joke for April fools day, but all he could muster was ‘work is fun’! Oi!

-- DOPPO --

1. Hifumi tried to get me to make something up for April Fool’s Day, but I didn’t do very well.

2. April Fools, huh?... Today, the balding boss got assigned to Alaska! I really said the emptiest lie in the world...

-- KUKO --

1. April Fool's Day? I ain’t interested… No, wait. Pulling a joke on my shitty dad might be kinda funny.

2. T-The hell’s up with Jyushi… I tried to tell him a lie as a joke but he did this pose I didn’t understand and yelled “OBJECTION!” at me…!

-- JYUSHI --

SIDE Ａ: Hm, a text from Hitoya… I see. So today is the day we must shout “OBJECTION!” at those who spout falsehoods? In that case, I must first ponder upon an appropriate pose.

SIDE Ｂ: Cutting my hair… Changing my clothes… Hm… I thought I’d take advantage of April Fool's Day as a surprise, but this doesn’t seem quite right.

-- HITOYA --

1. “Jyushi, today is April Fool's Day. It’s no good if you don’t shout “OBJECTION!” when someone tells you a lie.” Now then, I wonder how this’ll go… Heheh.

2. April Fool's Day is just an event. There’s nothing in the law that says you can’t have fun. Just enjoy it.

-- SASARA --

1. ...Eh, this text says ‘I’m quitting teaching’!!! Rosho, what’s wrong!? Wait, ah~. An April Fool's joke! No way, that’s one point to you!

2. Rosho.. I… I’m sorry but I ate the pudding that you had saved in the fridge!! Ah, no, this isn’t an April Fool’s joke.

-- ROSHO --

1. Uwo!! What’s with all these unread messages… To think that Sasara didn’t get that it was a lie… I have to tell him that it’s just an April Fool’s joke.

2. April Fool's Day huh… I’m usually the one getting cheated, but this time I’ll get Rei! … I’m so excited!

-- REI --

1. Who says you can only tell a lie on April Fool’s Day, when you can just tell lies all the time.

2. It’s April Fool's Day, but since I’m cheating people all year round, I’ll be taking a break today

- - - - -

If there are any corrections to be made, please DM me because I don’t check tags/comments.

Here are the lines that fit together:

Ichiro 2 + Jiro 1 + Saburo 1: Ichiro jokes that he wants macarons, but Jiro went to buy them and Saburo was planning to.

Samatoki 1 + Jyuto 1 + Rio 1: Rio’s told by Dice to joke that he’s opening a restaurant but Samatoki and Jyuto can’t tell if it’s a lie or not.

Ramuda 2 + Gentaro 2+ Dice 1/2: Gentaro’s prank is that he won’t lie - however, Ramuda is the one who decides to prank Dice. Dice, not expecting it from Ramuda, since he was prepared for Gentaro, believes that the two are trying to harvest his organs.

Hifumi B + Doppo 1: Hifumi tries to get Doppo to tell a joke but he can’t do very well.

Kuko 1 + Jyushi 1 + Hitoya 1: Hitoya tells Jyushi to yell “OBJECTION” at people who try to prank him, so when Kuko tries to get Jyushi, he’s the one who gets the surprise instead.

Sasara 1 + Rosho 1: Rosho tried to joke that he was going to quit teaching and Sasara fell for it.

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killugonficlibrary · 3 years

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Killugon: College AU

"There’s no way these lovestruck cantaloupes are passing their classes.” ~worm in theory

2 Series. 21 Works. 1 Tumblr.

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Oh My God, They Were Roommates by korns ( T | 125,170 | 27/27 )

After a terrible first semester, Gon transfers to a university in San Francisco where he gets a stellar deal on a one-bedroom apartment.

At least, it was a stellar deal until he moves in and realizes that he inadvertently signed a lease with a complete stranger as a roommate. Not only that, but his accidental roommate is the single hottest guy in his major, Killua Zoldyck, and everyone and their mother is trying to get with him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Critical Hit by korns ( T | 55,847 | 11/11 )

After a medical crisis, Gon's confined to bedrest and he needs to do something—anything— to keep his mind occupied, even if that thing is the latest game on the market: Hunter Vs Hunter. Gon becomes consumed by the world of gaming and streaming where he finds a famous, furious, and devilishly handsome streamer by the name Kill.

When Gon's dorm friend introduces them in a match, Kill's fanbase goes crazy because of one simple fact: That Gon is an absolute newbie who can kick Kill's ass any day, any time.

Kill won't stop until he ends Gon's winning streak—even if that means flying Gon out to a nation-wide HvsH tournament to face off, kick ass, and meet for the first time.

Series Part 1 of Trending: Kill’s Lifestyle Vlogs

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No Filter x Serial Dating by korns ( M | 71,287 | 14/14 )

Gon is a serial romantic with an addiction to online dating. Killua is the barista stuck taking the orders of every date Gon Freecss reels in. It wouldn't be an issue if Gon wasn't such a hot topic—star running back for the Yorknew University football team as a freshmen, member of the most iconic fraternity at Yorknew, and general campus heartthrob.

When Gon convinces Killua to be his gym buddy, it sounds and feels like the friend zone. But who knew the #GymLife was so gay anyway? Certainly not Killua.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

[Series] college is a scam, here’s why: by callmebyyourmango ( T | 4,228+ | 2 Works | WIP )

college is a scam. these fics will tell you why.

CURRENTLY PUBLISHED:

1. group projects require comfort [ 1/1 chapters ] 2. core requirements are unnecessary and expensive [ 1/1 chapters ]

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[Series] Warning Signs by vitrifica ( E | 14,671+ | 2 Works | WIP )

Wet dreams are making Killua's life hard- especially when he realizes his best friend is starring in them. When a storm traps Gon and Killua together for the night, can he keep his fantasies in check?

CURRENTLY PUBLISHED:

1. Caution: Wet [ 2/2 chapters ] 2. Tripping Hazard [5/? chapters ]

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Tease by kornspiracy ( E | 132,115 | 22/22 )

No fucking way, Killua thought. There’s no way Gon is a porn star.

He clicked onto the account’s profile page. There, in perfect clarity, was a picture of Gon Freecss’ face.

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The Only Exception by yahlreh ( M | 124,844+ | 28/? )

Sex. That's all Killua wants. Afterall, love doesn't exist in his mind, but that all comes to a close as soon as he meets his new roommate - Gon Freecss. Upon meeting the happy, go-lucky boy, Killua can't help but want to indulge on him, but it never seems to be enough as he allows his heart to constantly get in the way.

Warning: This story is heavily laced with mature themes and sexual content. Read at your own pace.

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7g4EuDtd1xAvvu7mXnzz9H?si=78f0fb13b62c4d5d

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phantom pains by sunsetters (sanitized) ( T | 43,957 | 11/11 )

Killua moves into his new apartment.

He's not alone.

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The Bells Are Ringing by DecemberCamie ( T | 4,432 | 1/1 )

“Gon,” Killua interrupted. He was clenching his jaw so hard it hurt. “Why don’t you have any pants on?!”

“Hmm? Oh, but I do! I have my-”

“That’s your underwear!” Killua’s voice jumped an octave. “That doesn’t count!”

“Yes it does! All the important bits are covered, so it definitely counts!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dragons vs Foxbears by DecemberCamie ( T | 4,972 | 1/1 )

When Gon first meets Killua, he’s drunk and stumbling through some party Zushi dragged him to after losing the match. He doesn’t know what bar he’s in, what time it is, or how he got there. He doesn’t even know Killua’s name when he challenges him to a fight. All he knows is the white haired guy is wearing the opposing team’s colors—

And then Gon is on the ground.

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To Break Pose by DecemberCamie ( T | 4,695 | 1/1 )

Gon asks Killua to be his model for his full-body art portrait project. It takes some begging, and bribing with chocolate, but eventually Killua agrees to help.

The thing is, though, Gon never expected for Killua to model nude.

The other thing? Gon finds he really doesn't mind this new development.

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College AU [Tumblr] - DecemberCamie ( T | 739 | 1/1 )

“How about a challenge to speed this up?” Killua started, lifting his gaze to lock on Gon. “I quiz you, you answer. If you answer right, you get a reward.”

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Socially Unacceptable Pickup Lines by korns ( T | 7,948 | 1/1 )

Gon Freecss is the new lone wolf on a campus founded on cliques, frats, and sororities for paranormal species. With everyone and their grandmother trying to recruit Gon, the co-op where Killua and his rag-tag team of mixed-species seems to be the last place on Gon's list.

Until Gon agrees to visit under the pretense of meeting a ghost and maybe, possibly hitting on Killua while he's there.

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Thinking In Circles by korns ( T | 10,362 | 1/1 )

After signing a lease together, Gon takes Killua out to celebrate and their innocent night turns into a kiss on the front lawn of a frat house. As a flaming asexual, Killua is mortified and pitched into a downward spiral. To top it off, they're both bound for a two-day road trip to their shared internship in the middle-of-nowhere Utah.

Stuck together and on the cusp of an existential crisis, Killua has to decide just how, exactly, to broach the nature of their relationship.

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Don’t Hold Back by Anon_Co_op ( E | 12,761 | 2/2 )

Gon cussed, thinking of all the different ways to call himself an idiot.

They all sounded like something Killua would say.

Would Killua still call him that if Gon said he was in love with him? . Or, Gon and Killua's 'friends with benefits' arrangement takes the 'un'-expected turn for the worse(?)

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there’s glitter on the floor after the party by reeyachan ( T | 1,195 | 1/1 )

Gon never drinks.

And Killua wonders why in the world he would decide to try it now, of all days, of all nights. Why now, when it's less than 12 hours before graduation?

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freudian slip by slowlange ( E | 15,171 | 1/1 )

“Our entertainment for the night. Or at least, I hope it is.”

Leorio throws a confident gaze to his audience before pulling something much, much smaller than a blunt.

Or, Killua and Gon trip on molly together. The events that ensue may or may not change Killua for the better, and show him that there's more out there that life has to offer.

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Cracked Lens by bluphacelia ( T | 7,949 | 1/1 )

A soft peel of classical music assaulted his senses as a soft yellow light spilled into the hallway—a night class? He continued forward, trying to keep his footsteps quiet. He felt the tug of curiosity and he glanced through the door, eyes flittering past easels and canvases and he stopped—paralyzed. There in the midst of art students was the perfect portrait.

-- Gon finds something he didn't know he was looking for.

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Art & Honey by wtfquitplayin ( M | 4,402 | 1/1 )

Killua is forced to go to a party, forgets his lighter, and meets Gon.

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Stellar Date by losing_sanity_fast ( T | 3,627 | 1/1 )

Canary wins a date with Gon in a lottery, but she's a) a lesbian, b) in a relationship so she doesn't want to go. As a joke Killua decides to go instead of her. Gon already has tickets and a reservation so he just rolls with it.

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Dungeon x Hunter by sub_divided ( G | 13,683 | 4/4 )

Every Sunday Killua, Gon, Leorio and Kurapika meet up to play "Dungeon x Hunter" (loosely based on DnD 5e) with Leorio as Dungeon Master. Why is Leorio the DM, you ask? Well, these nerds all met at the college roleplaying club two years ago, but recently, with Kurapika in law school and Leorio in med school, and Killua and Gon taking harder undergrad classes, no one has time to meet up anymore. Therefore, Leorio has taken it upon himself to DM their sessions, just as an excuse to get everyone together once a week.

Alluka, also a college student, is staying with Killua during the Christmas Break. Having heard about these Sunday roleplaying sessions from Killua, and especially about the antics of a chaotic multiclass druid/barbarian who keeps adopting all the animals (Gon duh), she asks if she can come along. The crew welcome Alluka into the nerd fold as romance gradually blossoms between Gon and Killua, and Leorio fights to keep Kurapika from ghosting them all as a stress response to lawschool deadlines.

Basically a heartwarming slice of life story about nerds playing Dungeons and Dragons. I'll be updating Wednesdays and Sundays until all the chapters are posted.

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First x or x Hundredth by gomicchi ( M | 1,837 | 1/1 )

Killua pays very little attention to his philosophy lecture. Gon tends to his duties as a part time groundskeeper. The first case may or may not be related somehow to the second.

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Wait, We Had a Test Today?! by itiaskia ( M | 21,096+ | 4/? )

College is certainly an experience, to say the least.

It's a time for self exploration, learning lessons, making terrible decisions, and meeting people you either never want to leave or never want to see again.

Gon didn't really know what to expect, but it wasn't what he got. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The one where everyone meddles in Killua’s and Gon’s relationship by tulip05 ( M | 6,327+ | 4/? )

Killua thinks Gon likes girls, more specifically Retz, and that they're the perfect couple. Gon thinks Killua is way too cool for him. They're both wrong. Good thing they have friends to meddle.

#KilluGon #hxh #killugon masterlist #long post #au: uni #curator gabs

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lovelykei · 4 years

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Haikyuu bf on insta pt.6 ‼️

Im finally here with hq bfs part 6!! This was requested by @eitadesu @wansseul and @nia-vsqz

I had already done sakusa so please check my masterlist out! Anyways sorry for the wait I hope you enjoy these!

Atsumu:

“We are n o t climbing a mountain to take cute pictures tsumu”

“B but babe 🥺 it’s only a 1 hour hike🥺”

“I can’t take cute pictures iF IVE HIKED FOR 1 HOUR TSUMU”

That’s the story on how you found yourself at a beach at the crack of dawn😳

He had set up the camera and walked over to wrap his arms around you

“My baby is so pretty, even when you’re sleepy”

Atsumu is a master at sweet talking, he knows exactly what to say to make you feel better

So even though you were cranky about your lack of sleep you melted like putty in his arms🥺

He knew you were a bit camera shy so he always did his best to make you feel comfortable.

He never pushed you to pose but rather just held you close🥺

He really liked looking through the pictures and seeing you smile so whole heartedly at him

It made his heart go ✨🥰💓💕💗🧚🏻‍♂️✨💓🧚🏻💗💕🥰🧚‍♀️

So when you softly rubbed your nose with his in an Eskimo kiss he couldn’t help but wrap his arms tighter around you.

Atsumu wasn’t one to say thank you too often, he usually felt that he deserved getting praised bigegoassbitch😔

HoWEVER when he stood there with you in his arms he thanked all the gods and angels for letting him have you.

Maybe it was they way the light reflected on Atsumus features that made you heart beat like you were 16 again

Or maybe it was the way his eyes met yours and made you feel like the most important person in the world

Whatever it was, on an empty beach at 5:53 on a Saturday

you fell inlove with Miya Atsumu all over again💗

Semi :

First of all semi 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

Now that we got that out of the way- let’s begin-

Semi looks h o t playing the guitar, I mean he usually looks like a Greek god but with a guitar? Deadly.

You wanted to learn how to play too, and be a sexy queen/king

And it started, everyday he would sit down in the sofa with you either on his lap or right next to him

For 2 weeks he taught you all the easy basic chords like C G D Dm Am A E Em and so on

But you felt confident, you wanted to learn something harder

So this mf goes straight to bm and you realise your fingers are too short and there’s no way you could ever-

Anyways it takes you a while. It’s an awkward position for your fingers and it feels like your fingers simply don’t reach😔

Semi is v patient, he moves your fingers slowly and carefully

Kisses everytime you get it right🥰

After struggling with bm for about 1 hour semi decided to give you a break lmao

You guys got something to eat before getting back to business 😤

You set your phone up to record and say next to semi ready for your lesson🥵

He kissed your head before getting down to business 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺💗💗💗💗💗💗✨✨✨✨✨🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

Anyways that’s the story of how you got a wholesome and soft picture with your boyfriend

Semi loved music and he loved you so being able to do music with you was his absolute favorite thing 🥺🥰✨

Shirabu :

It took a l o t of convincing to get shirabu to get couple stuff.

You wanted matching phone cases? Prepare a PowerPoint on the benefits.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to have matching stuff and act like a couple

He’s just a bitch He just genuinely enjoyed teasing you😔

But sometimes when he’d been particularly harsh on you he would surprise you

Yesterday was one of those days when he accidentally went to far

He had said something along the lines of “I don’t need you to be able to play volleyball well” which wasn’t necessarily a lie but it still hurt you regardless

Which is why he decided to ✨make it up for you ✨

He showed up at your dorm after volleyball practice, usually you’d go watch him but since he can’t act right- 😤😤😤😤

N e ways he showed up with a bag in hand and you were like 👁👄👁

And he pulls out this matching couple pajamas

“Kenji 🥺🥺🥺” “I didn’t mean what I said yesterday or well..I don’t need you but at the very least it enhances my performance...slightly...or something”

This is the closest you’ll get to an apology so 😳

Anyways you both put your pajamas on and sit on the couch to watch something

“Actually lets take a pict-“ “no” “🥺🥺” “fine”

You couldn’t get him to smile tho but that’s just a minor inconvenience at this point

Right after you snapped the picture you squealed at how good looking your mans is

So you did the only thinkable..you threw yourself over him and started kissing his face

Kenjiro showing affection? 💀

Kenjiro receiving affection? 🥰

He wrapped his arms around your waist and melted like putty from your touch

He is a simp but make it low key 🥵

Anyways you end up having a sleepover in your dorm 🥺🥺✨

Suna is the Cuddliest!! Person!! Ever!!

Although he came off as a arrogant apathetic guy he truly was the sweetest person, he was just tired all the time

He was like a cat, you know how cats don’t fall asleep around strangers but then when they trust you the even sleep on their backs?

That’s suna 😳🐱🥺

Anyways considering this was your favorite activity, it wasn’t weird for suna to call you over when he got a new bed

He used to have a single bed so it was really small and you had to sleep on top of him

Not anymore tho 😤

You probably still will tho-

Anyways so he called you over to try out his new bed

Notlikethatyanasties

So as soon as you made it to his house he was waiting on you by the door

you both rushed to his room to wrap yourself under the soft covers

“Am I in heaven taro? This must be heaven?🥺” “there’s even angels here y/n”

“𝒮𝒾𝓇 𝓅𝓁𝓈🥺”

“Never said it was you” 🥴

“𝒮𝒾𝓇 𝓅𝓁𝓈😡”

This fkn boy is a bully but it’s okay he always kisses it better 😳

After he kissed it better 😤 you wanted to take a picture so you scooted closer to him and angled your phone

He smooched your cheek 🥺🥺💗💗💗

You couldn’t decide which bed you liked better, the new or the old one

What you did know however is that your number #1 favorite place would always be Taros arms 🥺💗

288 notes · View notes

choisanbooty-uwu · 4 years

Text

Party - San x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut/Vanilla/Passionate

A/N: I decided for my first smut on tumblr I’d make it simple. It might be boring but eh again it’s a starter lmao. Dm me with requests :)

It was a casual Sunday afternoon- the day you decided on going to a party with your friend Ji-ae. She wanted to get it on with the colleges most known band Ateez’s, Song Mingi.

“C’monnnnn please y/n! I beg of youuuuuu!” Ji-ae exclaims. She had been bugging you for this for a week now. A week ago was when Mingi personally invited her to go. After all, it was Ateez’s party. Mingi had told her that she could bring me, also apparently requested by another member. Who? I have no clue. I mean what’s the worse that could happen?

“Fineeee,” you finally said. Ji-ae hugged you in extreme excitement.

“Oh y/n, thank you thank you ThAnK yOu t h a n k y o u THANK YOU!” I shrug her off me laughing.

“Well, It’s gonna start in like, 4 hours and you always take forever to get ready for occasions so shoo, go get ready.”

“Otayyyy,” she says yeeting herself off me. She showers first then me. Walking out of the bathroom in a fluffy rainbow leopard print bath robe, I walk into my room. I open my closet to look through the assorted dresses there are. I pick a cute little black dress, that has a zipper on the back, and strip of mesh flower patterns right on the curve area. It’s a short sleeved, tank topped actually, for the top design. It hugs my small but curvy figure in a comfortable way. I slip on some fishnets and heeled boots. Now for the makeup and hair. for makeup I do a Brown smokey eye, and black matte lipstick. My contour is on point, and my highlight is subtle yet very out there. I put my hair in cute space buns with the slightest curls dangling from in front of my ears. I run a glitter substance down my hair line and call it a look.

I walk out of my room in time for Ji-ae to walk out of hers. Our dorm is your not so everyday looking dorm. It’s very rich looking, elegant really. Ji-ae is wearing a galaxy print long dress with spaghetti straps and enough cleavage showing to drive a man to want to see more. Her hair is down and curled at the ends, gorgeous really, and her makeup is subtle, just eyeliner and lashes. A rose gold highlight is swiped over her cheeks, and a pretty lilac tint on her lips.

“Oh Ji-ae, Mingi is gonna go absolutely crazy over you tonight,” I exclaim.

“And so isn’t-” Ji-ae starts to say bu then shuts her mouth. “I mean- so isn’t everyone else,” She nervously chuckles out.

“Omigod, Ji-ae you know who requested me there!” I laugh out in realization.

“Yeahhhh, but I can’t tell yuh,” she says winking. You tap her arm in a ‘how could you’ way, and you both exit your dorm laughing. You both get into your navy blue- almost black Fiat 500, and go to the so said address.

________________________________________________________________

You and Ji-ae walk into the large house, and walk through the way too exposed bodies of females and smug looked men.

“Mingi said the 8 of them are in the living room on a dark green large ass couch,” Ji-ae says. “He also said you are to sit next to San and Yeosang, and I across from you next to Mingi and Hongjoong.” I nod and look for the so said couch. It’s hard to see through the crowd, let alone hear my own fucking thoughts through the booming kpop music which is their own content. Currently, Answer is playing. Finally after intense looking, I spot the green couch, and the 8 of them there with the spots for them open.

“There,” I say to Ji-ae, tapping her shoulder and pointing at the boys. We walk over to them and just looking at who I’m supposed to sit next to makes my heart drop in a matter of seconds. I mean, all of the men are drop dead gorgeous, but the one known as San is just- woooo, hot. “Bruhhh San is hot-” I say to Ji-ae as we slowly make our way over.

She giggles then looks at me with a smug look. “Good, cause he’s the one who wanted you to come.” With that comment my face instantly goes beat ass red. She only laughs at my reaction, then looks at the men. “Hello boysss, great party,” she yells plopping her ass next to Mingi, and sitting in a way that her teasing cleavage is in his direction. I slowly make my way to sit next to San, sitting a little too formally for a event like this. I’m sitting straight up and have my hands in my lap. I can see San glance at me from the corner of my eye, and I feel the blood rush to my cheeks even more.

“No need to be so formal, y/n,” Hongjoong giggles out. “Please, make yourself at home here.” Hongjoong is the leader of the group, so of course he’s the one to help comfort me.

“Oh she’s always like this at first,” Ji-ae laughs out. “She just needs to get used to her surroundings.”

“Can I get you a drink? Help sooth you down?” Wooyoung offers.

“U-uhm, sure. Something subtle tho, I’m driving us home tonight,” I say. I mutter a thanks as he passes by.

“So, Ji-ae,” San starts then looks at me, and says “Y/n.. what are your guy’s majors?”

“Oooo I have a accounting major,” Ji-ae chirps. Mingi looks at her and smiles. You can tell the man has a thing for her with the way he looks over at her and wraps his arm around her side.

“Uhm I have a English major,” I say rubbing the back of my neck.” Wooyoung comes back and hands me my drink. I take a sip and am surprised by the taste. It’s sweet, yet fruity, and definitely subtle. He hands San a water, Hongjoong a beer, and Seonghwa a vodka with lime.

“It’s called a Love Potion Vodka Cocktail,” Wooyoung says. I sit back and take another sip.

“Y/n, just sit back and drink, Mingi and Hongjoong already said we can stay the night, drink as much as you want,” Ji-ae says. I nod and take another sip. Conversation continues, and after another 3 of those drinks, I have a warm feeling, and am clearly buzzed. Illusion starts playing, and Ji-ae jumps up in excitement. “Y/N LET’S DANCE!” I take the last sip of my drink and stand up. Her and I jump around and sing/shout along to the lyrics. Hongjoong, Mingi, Yunho, and Jongho get up too joining in. Nearing the end of the song you look towards San, to see him looking at you admirably. You’re too buzzed to even be shy anymore, so you walk towards him and extend your hand out to help him up.

“C’mon, dance with us!” you yell so he can hear you. He laughs and takes your hand. You jump around and make as much contact with the man as possible. The song ends and you all sit back down. You see Ji-ae and Mingi starting to make-out on the couch and you wonder what balls it takes to be able to start something. And just like that, San snakes his arm around you and places his hand on your hip, pulling you towards him a bit. You nuzzle your head into his neck and enjoy the calm sounds of With You playing. Yeosang and Yunho already went somewhere else with these two women that were wearing extremely skimpy cloths.

Ji-ae and Mingi got up and went upstairs to do god only knows what.

“So, I heard you were the one that requested for me to come?” You say looking up at San, your faces too close, but you didn’t care. You enjoyed the feeling of his cool breath against your face.

“You weren’t supposed to know,” he said chuckling and throwing his head back in embarrassment as his cheeks grew a bit rosy. Although it was a cute thing for him to do, you couldn’t help but look at how his neck tensed and his collar bone flexed as he did so which was so hot that it sent tingles all around your body ending down at your core. You wanted to kiss up his neck, and surprisingly this wasn’t the alcohol speaking. He looked back at you smirking. “But yes, it was me.”

“Why?” You ask, placing your hand on his chest and leaning into him even more, and slinging your leg over his slightly. He took your action by surprise, and blushed a bit more.

“Uh, well, I fancy you,” he says sliding his hand up your calf and stopping it at mid thigh. His slowness was enough to make more tingles happen but slightly more fierce. You rub your thumb against his right collar bone, and you ask why again. “You’re beautiful, and kind, and Ji-ae has talked about you a lot and abut how kind and smart you are, how much of a powerful woman you can be, how you’re independent, and just everything I’ve heard and saw tonight, I’m completely infatuated with. How about you? Got your eyes on anyone?”

You chuckle and blush. “When I walked into the room, I saw a attractive young man, that I instantly got butterflies over and said it to Ji-ae, and she told me that that person had actually requested my appearance,” you say smiling at him. “And, when I sat next to him, I got even more shy than I normally get especially when the whole time I could feel his eyes on me. And now I’m trying to make the boldest decision on making move that if there wasn’t alcohol in my system, I wouldn’t be able to do.” You slide your hand up his neck and lay it at rest against his cheek, and glance at his lips then back at his eyes with a calm passionate look, mirrored back from him.

“You’re doing thing’s to that person,” he says pulling his face slightly closer, His breath more prominent against your lips.

“Oh? What ever could you mean?” You chuckle.

“Why don’t I show you?” You nod, and get off him. He gets up, along with you and takes your hand, leading up the stairs to a room that says ‘San’ in hangul on the door. You stop for a minute, letting go of his hand to trace the symbols.

“Childish,” You say looking at him, sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s adorable.” He chuckles and signals you to come closer. You close the door, and walk over to him. Standing between his legs, he puts his hands on your hips, dragging them up and down your curves, and placing a kiss against your tum. You giggle.

He then stands up towering over you dragging his his hands up from your curves, and up your arms, leaving one to wrest at your shoulder, the other on your cheek. “You’re beautiful,” He says, bringing his face closer to yours.

“Hah, not even close, you say, bringing yours closer as well, almost close enough to touch.

“Lies, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” and with that, he finally places a peck against your lips, pulling away slightly to see your reaction, and to his surprise you leaned in for more. He pulls your body even closer to his, making you feel every inch of clothed muscle on him. His hands undo your space buns and entangle their selves in your beautiful locks, deepening the kiss, causing tingle after tingle. He lifts you up and places you on the bed, putting a thigh between your legs. He kissed down your neck, sucking and leaving dark marks that would most certainly be hard to hide the following day. He pushes his knee up into your dripping core, and groans. “Hmm, so wet for me already princess”

He unzips your dress dragging off your body, along with your fishnets and boots. To his liking, you’re not wearing a bra. He gropes at your breasts as he takes one into his mouth. You can’t help yourself but moan out in surprise. But who cares how loud you are? The music is already loud enough to confine your noises. He smirks and gently nips onto your bud with his teeth causing you to hiss in pain, but the pain was good. God- was it good. He gave the same treatment to the other side then kissed his way down your stomach to the hem of your panties. He looked up at you as he brought his face closer to your heat.

“Look at me baby,” he mutters against you, the feeling of his breath against it exciting you even more. You obey and look at him. He gives you that hard lustful look and smirks, and within seconds he licks up your clothed heat. You moan and throw your head back. “Ah-ah-ah, eyes on me gorgeous.”

You return your look to him, propping yourself up on your elbows. He drags your panties down and off of you with his teeth, and without haste, returns his lips to your slick covered core. More moans slip from your lips uncontrollably a he continues to lick and slip his tongue into you, while occasionally sucking on your clit. He sticks a digit in, which soon turns into 3, and he has you going crazy.

“S-San...” you moan out. He looks up at you, still eating you out.

“Hmm?” He says against you, the vibrations causing immense pleasure.

“San... P-please... I need you..” You moan out. He lift his head, wiping spit and your slick from his chin. He takes his shirt off and unbuttons his pants.

“Need me where, Princess” he asks you.

“In me,” You whimper out. He slides his pants and boxers down, his hard member whipping up to life, hitting his stomach, as he then towers over you leading his tip up to your entrance.

“With pleasure,” he says, slowly sliding it in, as deep as he can. You moan loudly at the sudden feeling of being stretched. Without warning, he starts thrusting in and out of you, gradually getting faster. He wraps a hand around your throat and leans forward whispering little dirty sayings into your ears.

“God you’re so tight” “Like my hand around your pretty little neck?” “You feel so good” “Fuck” “You’re so beautiful”

“S-San, hngg, h-harder,” You shout in pleasure. He does as you wish and hits you g-spot repetitively. “O-oh yes, r-right there!” You scream, feeling your release coming. You can tell San himself is close aswell, for you can feel him twitching inside. In a mature of a few more thrusts you tighten around him as your orgasms hits, sending him into over drive, and pulling out to cum on your stomach.

He plops down beside you, both breathing heavily.

“I don’t know if this is the right time to ask,” San starts to ask. You look over at him, and smile. “B-but will you go out with me?” he asks. You cup his cheek with your hand and kiss him.

“Yes, of course,” You say. You clean up his release off yourself and snuggle up to him, and the two of you fall asleep.

~ E n d ~

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ficsilike-reblogged · 4 years

Text

Sunshine City: Three

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read/reblogged/commented on the last chapter. You are all lovely and deserve a Whiskey of your own. This chapter still revolves around the plot of the film, so if you have any questions just let me know! I hope this little story can make you smile at least for a moment. My asks and DMs are always open.

Pairing: (Eventual) Agent Whiskey x F!Reader (No Y/N)

Word Count: 5.7k

Rating For This Chapter: T for guns, blood, injuries

Catch up on the Prologue, Chapters One, and Two here!

Y/N sat at the bar and ordered a cranberry juice.

Butterfly Guy was sitting with Eggsy, Whiskey, and a guy who insisted on being called Merlin in a booth near the window.

“Rough day, sugar?” Paula the bartender asked as she set down the cloudy glass filled with purple-red juice.

“Rough couple of days,” she muttered and handed over a handful of crumpled bills that Paula methodically straightened out before placing them in the till. Paula was basically an agent in her own right. She’d been part of the bar for nearly twenty years and since only Statesmen drank here and knew of its existence, they spoke freely about their work. She probably knew more classified intel than some junior agents.

“You sure I can’t get you anything stronger?” She asked, her bleach blonde hair swiping over her shoulders. “Something with a little more oomph?”

“Just the cranberry juice for now.” She smiled and sipped on the too-bitter drink and resisted puckering her lips at the taste. “But thank you.”

Paula nodded and cast a glance at the table where the agents sat. “You know, Whiskey keeps lookin’ over here.”

She ignored the twisting in her stomach and took a large gulp. “ ‘s just post-mission jitters.”

“Uh-huh,” Paula said with a roll of her eyes. “Sure. When a handsome man looks at me like that…” she drifted off with a raise of her eyebrows.

(But she wouldn’t deny that she noticed Whiskey looking at her a little more often. When they met up after she implanted the tracker in Clara, she noticed Whiskey kept turning away every so often, a hand tucked in his front pocket. It was a common gesture used by men to hide an erection, she knew that—she just didn’t believe he would have one at that moment. They were in the middle of a mission. There was no way he was hiding a boner. But the thought was fun.)

Thankfully, Agent Moonshine started hollering and she sighed into her drink and got up from her barstool and walked behind the bar.

Paula was watching the scene unfold like she hadn’t watched a million bar fights before and looked ready to piss herself. Sunny patted her on the shoulder and signaled for her to hide in the little cubby beneath the register.

The Butterfly Guy quickly made a fool of himself, trying to teach Moonshine and his buddies some manners and she leaned against the sticky bar to watch as Whiskey stood from his seat. It wasn’t the first time she would watch Whiskey kick Moonshine’s ass but it was always fun to witness.

And those tight jeans did wonders for his butt.

While she would never understand his affinity for his lasso or his whip, it was nice to watch him work (and to see Moonshine bleed a little).

As he finished, Moonshine and his hangers-on all unconscious or bleeding enough to keep them still, Whiskey adjusted his hat and let out a whistle. “I feel like a tornado in a trailer park.”

She snorted and finished her drink as Paula slowly came out from the cubby and gaped at the mess. “It looks like a tornado came through here, boss. I think you owe Paula another window.”

“And new glasses!” Paula said with a frown.

She patted Paula’s shoulder again with a promise that the window would be fixed within a handful of hours as the televisions switched from the football game and were overtaken by a wash of yellow and red with an obnoxious chime.

A woman draped in a horrendous yellow outfit with fiery red hair soon filled the screens. “Mr. President, my name is Poppy Adams. I believe the UN has no teeth. So I've selected you, as leader of the free world, to receive this communication. And I invite you to begin negotiations on the largest scale hostage situation in history. A few weeks ago, an engineered virus was released and contained in all varieties of my product: cannabis, cocaine, heroin, opium, ecstasy, and crystal meth.” Each line item popped up on the screen in a pretty font. Cap looked over to see Whiskey already looking at her, lips pulled into a frown. “Some of you are already infected. And this is what you can expect in the coming days. After a brief incubation period, victims present with stage one symptoms: a blue rash. Next, second stage symptoms appear: mania, as the virus enters the brain. Very distressing to the victim and those around them. Stage three: paralysis. Muscles enter a state of catastrophic seizure. And once the muscles of the thorax become affected, breathing becomes impossible.” She watched as one new victim after another was revealed on the screen until blood spurted out of the last man’s eyes and nose, dead for millions to witness. “This leads to a very nasty death within 12 hours. But I have good news to the millions already affected. It doesn't have to be this way. I have an antidote.” Poppy held up a clear vial filled with an amber liquid—and Elton John behind another glass wall.

“What have you done to me, you fucking bitch?” God bless Elton John.

Undeterred by Elton John’s outburst, Poppy continued, “100% effective and ready to ship out worldwide at a moment's notice. I will do this if the following conditions are met. First, you agree to end the war on drugs, once and for all. All classes of substance are legalized paving the way to a new marketplace in which sales are regulated and taxed just like alcohol. And second, my colleagues and I receive full legal immunity. Meet my terms. I look forward to helping you keep our beloved country great, boosting our ailing economy, and easing spending on law enforcement. Or continue this blinkered, outmoded, and, frankly, disastrous exercise in prohibition, and live with blood on your hands. Save lives. Legalize.”

The broadcast ended and the televisions screens quickly flipped back to the football game. Whiskey was at her side in a blink of an eye. His hand brushed down her back. “We gotta talk to Champ, Sunny.”

And that was how she found herself bundled in winter gear on an Italian mountainside. Clara had called Charlie, and thanks to the tracking device she had implanted at Glastonbury, they were able to pick up the conversation. Charlie told Clara (who was now covered in the blue rash) to meet him at the ski resort they’d visited last year so he could give her the antidote. The tracking device could pinpoint their exact location and everyone was betting that the Italian resort was one of the storehouses for the antidote.

But she was also wondering, once again, why she found Whiskey attractive. He was in a terrible blue and white snowsuit that had to have been made in the 1970s. And he still refused to take off his damned cowboy hat. She appreciated the dedication to his aesthetic but it still seemed…ridiculous.

And he’d been grating on her last nerve on the flight over.

Ginger had buzzed in and suggested that Cap be the one to retrieve the antidote because only Clara would recognize her as opposed to Charlie possibly recognizing Eggsy or Butterfly Man (who she was told to call either Galahad or Harry). Whiskey then laughed—loudly—and stated plainly that he would be planning the mission and Ginger should stick to her computers and gadgets. “It isn’t like ya have any experience in the field.”

She really thought about murdering her boss for the rest of the flight. Her plots to kill him only got more creative when he told her to stay at the safe-house when they landed.

She was tired. She was angry.

And that was probably why she finally snapped. “If you didn’t want me to come along, you could have just told Champ. God knows you don’t listen to anyone else.” She hefted her bag filled with her own weapons and ammo higher onto her shoulder and turned away from him, readying to hike up toward the house and stew in her lonesome until the three men returned—hopefully with the antidote in hand.

But his hand grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop before she could get very far. “That ain’t fair, Sunny.”

She pulled out of his grip with a poorly hidden snarl. “No. You’re not fair. To me. To Ginger. All because of some bullshit you think is right.”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need protection. I’ve been in this game a long time-”

“And I’ve been in it longer-”

“-and I can take care of myself. What you’re doing to Ginger is so fucking backwards I’m surprised you can see straight,” she hissed it out like a curse. “I’m tired, Whiskey. I’m so tired of watching her jump through hoops trying to get you to notice that she could outperform half the agents in the field and you want her stuck behind the desk until she dies. I’m tired of you thinking you know best in the field. Why do you even request me to go with you if you’re going to undermine me every step of the way?”

Whiskey’s mouth opened. Then closed.

Her shoulders slumped. Harry and Eggsy both looked like they were very interested in the calibrations of their earpieces and not listening to what just happened. God this whole situation was pathetic. They were trying to save the world and she was waffling between yearning and rage for her stupid boss. She trudged away in the snow toward the safe house and barely heard Whiskey say, “what are you lookin’ at, Butterfly Guy?”

But she continued on, up the mountain and found the small shack of a house and swept the perimeter before settling in. She comm’ed in only to say she reached the safe house. Eggsy responded cheerfully but she didn’t respond when Whiskey also chimed in with a, “good work, Sunny.”

Time ticked by.

There was a commotion on the other end of the comm line when Butterfly Guy wouldn’t respond—and then all she heard was Eggsy and Whiskey screaming. She rolled her eyes. They were so dramatic. But soon, the trio was making their way toward the safe-house and she didn’t bother to open the door when she heard them outside. They all hobbled in, mid-argument.

Eggsy pulled out a small vial and showed it to her with a smile she had to reciprocate. “You got it.”

“We did. A little dicey—Charlie recognized me.”

She glanced at Whiskey who frowned in return. It didn’t matter. Ginger had been right and now he knew it.

“Can I see it, kid?” Whiskey asked with his hand outstretched as he walked toward them. But then his dark eyes tracked to the window and widened. “Get down!” Whiskey all but tackled both Eggsy and her to the dusty ground of the house as bullets started to fly. Glass shattered. Wood splintered.

She watched, unable to do anything from her pinned position, as the small vial was all but knocked from Eggsy’s hand and shattered on the ground.

“You fucking dickhead!” Eggsy hollered as he scrambled out from under Whiskey to look over the spilled antidote, almost uncaring of the bullets whizzing by.

“Fuck you, I just saved your life!” Whiskey retorted.

“Yeah, and cost millions of people theirs!”

She had to slap at Whiskey’s thigh to get him to move off her and she rolled off into the corner when he did. The rain of bullets stopped for a moment and she looked out the window. “They’re reloading.”

Whiskey nodded. “All right, I'll fix their wagons. Cover me, boys!” And then he all but bolted out of the house, guns blazing.

With a roll of her eyes, ignoring how Whiskey had told the ‘boys’ to cover him, she followed suit and ran out into the snow, pulling her guns out from their holsters. The shootout was nothing she hadn’t seen before and, while she didn’t have all the flair most of the Statesmen agents had, she could mow down people just as efficiently. (The acrobatics the Statesmen and Kingsman agents seemed so fond of really just seemed…excessive.)

Whiskey went through the left flank so she went through the unlucky men on the right.

It was easy pickings, really. Despite the heavy artillery and uneven numbers, it was almost too simple of a gunfight. But the adrenaline rush was nice. It had been too long since she had felt her heart beat this fast. Bullets were flying by her head as she dove behind a tree and then twisted to shoot down the other man. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Whiskey pull out his electric lasso and then cut a man in half who came out with a knife.

“Fucking ridiculous,” she muttered as she stood, lowering her guns and quietly thankful that Whiskey wasn’t hurt.

There was a single gunshot and she froze. A familiar cold crept up her torso and one last man stepped out from the tree line with his gun raised right in her direction. The barrel smoked. But his eyes were wide like he couldn’t quite understand that he’d actually managed to shoot her. With a snarl, she pulled her guns up again and fired twice, painting the trees and snow behind him in a spattering of red.

“Sunny!” Whiskey yelled as he spotted her.

She pressed a hand to her stomach and felt the terrible, wet warmth soak her palm. She holstered her guns again and stepped out to look at him, turning ever so slightly to hide the blossoming red from him. “We’re good.”

“You should’ve stayed in the house.”

“You needed back up!” She said, marching toward the house despite feeling her legs shake. Pressing against the wound only made bile rise in her throat.

“The kid and Butterfly Guy-”

“It’s over, boss. Let’s just-”

Whiskey suddenly grabbed at her waist and all but threw her into the house and she nearly lost her footing. She barely had time to recognize the pain suddenly roaring through her system as the adrenaline started to fade.

“Troop carrier coming in. And I’m out of ammo—whaddya got?” He asked, pointedly looking at Eggsy and Harry.

But they were both looking at Whiskey’s hand.

He slowly raised it to his face and saw it covered in blood. His head snapped to the side to look at her. “Sunny?”

Her knees finally buckled and she hit the weathered wood. She shakily caught herself with her other hand, feeling blood slip between her fingers. She coughed and watched as blood splattered against the wood.

“They’ve got Gatling guns!”

Whiskey was yelling. Bullets whizzed by. And the beat of her heart started to drown out everything else.

“Harry, no!” She barely heard Eggsy shout.

And then, in her quickly-hazing vision, she watched Whiskey’s body crumple to the floor beside hers. She reached out a bloody hand toward him without thinking, pressing crimson-colored fingers against his face as if that would stop the bleeding.

“He broke the vial on purpose, Eggsy. If we made it out of here, he was gonna kill us both!”

The world went dark.

The sterile scent of HQ’s medical wing was a welcoming aroma as her eyes opened.

“There you are.” Ginger leaned over her with a soft smile. “How ya feeling?”

“Tired.”

“No pain?” She asked as she helped Cap sit up slowly.

“A bit tender—but I know what feeling shot in the chest feels like so I would prefer this.” She pulled at the bland, cotton-blend shirt she was dressed in and saw her stomach covered in a bit of gauze and tape. Despite Ginger telling her not to, she pulled at the coverings to reveal the mostly-healed bullet wound and then pushed back into the pillows. It looked like it had already been healing for weeks instead of a day or two. Statesmen truly knew how to patch someone up. But then a thought struck her. “Where’s Whiskey?”

And Ginger’s soft, answering smile calmed her suddenly clenching heart. “He’s in the next room over, Cap. He’ll wake up soon. Eggsy gave him the Alpha Gel and it worked like it was supposed to.”

She pushed out a long breath through her nose and nodded. “Good. That’s good.”

Ginger’s watch beeped. She looked at the small screen and sighed. “I will be back. Don’t get into any trouble, okay?”

“I promise nothing.”

Ginger chuckled, having heard that answer many times before, and let herself out of the room.

She let herself stew for a moment (it was really about an hour). Her life had really gone off the rails since Vegas. It was one thing to secretly harbor amorous thoughts about your boss. It was another to scream at him, get shot, and then see him get shot after seeing him (possibly) thwart any efforts to get the antidote and save millions of people. And she had a chance to say something to Ginger. But she didn’t.

Hm.

She carefully slid off the bed and winced when a bolt of pain zig-zagged through her body as her feet touched the cold floor. Shuffling over to the door, she peered out into the hallway and then stepped out. Whiskey’s holding room was only a few footsteps away.

Should she go in? But then what would she say?

Should she just go back to her room and pretend she was unconscious the entire time and remembered exactly nothing from Italy? But what was she trying to forget anyway?

But, thankfully, Eggsy found her in the middle of the hall and broke her rambling thoughts. He pocketed his phone and looked a bit worried as he noticed her. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Better than I should be after being shot. You?”

He started to nod but then shook his head. “My girlfriend…she, uh, she’s got the blue rash.” He rubbed at his forehead.

“You care about her. Probably more than you should, right?” That was easy to see. Eggsy was a good kid, probably a little too easy to read. “Especially in this line of work.”

“You get it—Kingsmen aren’t allowed to have attachments. And I…” he tried to grasp at the words he needed, “love her.”

“Statesmen doesn’t have that rule. Probably because we’re very bad at following any sort of guideline anyway.” She shrugged and regretted the movement as it pulled at her wound. “But that means you’ve got less than 12 hours. You got a plan?”

Eggsy quickly explained that they had been able to trace Poppy’s location to Cambodia and they were heading out there now. But his eyes quickly widened as he realized he had just revealed a plan to a potentially dangerous adversary.

“Relax, Eggsy. I’m not the one you shot in the head.” She waved him on. “Go. Save the world. Look out for landmines.”

“Landmines?” Eggsy parroted, face scrunching into a confused frown.

“If Poppy’s as crazy as I think she is, I wouldn’t be surprised if she has nonsense like that. Who knows? Maybe she has a fleet of man-eating robots, too.”

“What are you on about?”

She shook her head. “I’ve seen some stuff. Don’t worry about it.”

He smiled and started to walk away. “You should come to London when this is all over. I’ll get you a drink!”

She smiled a bit and watched him disappear around a corner before her eyes once again drifted toward Whiskey’s door. “…fuck.” Against her better judgement, she walked up and let the door glide open without a sound. The room was quiet. Whiskey was motionless on the bed, face still covered by the machine to help the Alpha Gel finish its work. His vitals were steady, displayed on large screens across the wall.

He would be fine.

She slipped gingerly into a chair near the bed and resisted the urge to reach out and touch his hand. He just looked so…vulnerable. It was so unlike him. An angry, terrible twisting pulled at her chest. “I’m not sorry I yelled at you, you know.” She wasn’t sure why she was talking to him but the words kept coming anyway. “You need to let Ginger out in the field. She’d be a better agent than me. I don’t know why you’re… I don’t understand you at all, actually. I wish I did, I think. I wish I could understand you and why you do things and say things. I wish I could understand why you make me feel so stupid.”

Maybe being this close to death—again—was making her sentimental. Or maybe the pain medication was making her crazy.

Probably the second option. Hopefully, anyway.

The door opened again and Ginger stepped in. “I knew I’d find you in here.”

“How’d you figure that?”

Ginger gave her a look but didn’t answer. “It is about time we wake him up. You remember how it’s like, right?”

She nodded. She had heard stories about how most agents needed a ‘reminder’ of a traumatic event to bring them back to the present and how their minds could be a bit foggy for a few days after, but she had never seen it in person. But she basically knew what to except--right?

With a flip of a few switches, the machine receded and Whiskey’s eyes opened. He was up and off the bed with a spring in his gait that had her laughing as he gave some terrible pick-up line to Ginger. But the laugh drew his attention and his body went rigid as his eyes landed on her. “Sunny.”

She felt tension she didn’t realize she was holding leech from her shoulders as he smiled at her. “Hey, boss.”

Ginger tucked something back in her pocket and her smile seemed to reach her ears. “I’ll leave you two…alone. But I’m just outside if you need anything.” She then scurried out and left her alone with Whiskey and her hammering heart.

“Sunshine.” The new nickname was all but crushing to her heart, caving in her chest.

She waved him back to the bed and told him to rest before she curled her fingers around his hand. It was warm and calloused and, as cliché as it sounded, seemed to fit hers perfectly. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been shot in the head.”

She almost laughed and her other hand carefully pushed his still-impeccably styled hair away from the bandage covering a small bit of his temple. “Yeah. You look great for a dead man, though.”

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” But he said it with a smile and squeezed her hand. “Say it again.”

“You look great.” And her smile grew, heart a little lighter.

He huffed out a laugh but then a long silence stretched between them. She looked away from his dark eyes but didn’t pull her hand away from his, fearing he’d disappear if she did.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Sunshine?” He squeezed at her hand until she looked at him again.

“I’m okay. They fixed me up just fine. A new scar for the collection.”

His smile slowly dropped and he placed his other hand over hers, too. “I saw you drop. You were bleedin’ out and I-”

“I saw you get shot, too, you know. Butterfly Guy has an interesting way of showing he doesn’t trust someone.” She shook the thought away. Harry’s brain was scrambled, too. “I’m just happy you’re okay. Your brain might feel a bit funny for a day or two, but I’ll be here.”

“Where are they now? The Brits?”

“They’re on their way to Cambodia. They think they’ve found Poppy’s base.”

Whiskey all but yanked his hands from hers and threw his legs over the side of the bed before standing on his long legs. She quickly stood too, chair clattering backward. “We’ve gotta go. Tell Ginger to get the Silver Pony on the runway.” He started toward the door before she grabbed at his arm.

“Boss, c’mon. You need to rest-”

“I need to make sure that bitch doesn’t get what she wants.”

She was scrambling then, hands pawing up his arm to grasp at his face. Her heart was in her throat as she looked at him. His dark eyes looked so cold. Unfocused. She knew the Alpha Gel could scramble someone’s brain as it physically repaired it, pushing them into old habits and thoughts and fears. She knew Whiskey wasn’t thinking right at the moment—no matter how soft he had been with her moments ago, this wasn’t her Whiskey. Her mouth went dry. Thoughts raced by as the pit she had felt growing in her stomach expanded to an abyss. She knew what he’d been through. The death of his wife at the hands of some coked-out druggies was an open secret. And she knew her own grief, dealt with it in her own way—not all of it healthy, she knew. But she had to try. She knew the look of a man who wanted vengeance no matter the cost—and, right now, the cost was millions of lives. “Do you know why I don’t drink?”

“We don’t have time for this,” he said as he pulled out of her grip.

“Drunk driver plowed into my dad’s car. I was at the local pool with some friends and Dad piled everyone in to pick me up so we could get ice cream after. They never made it.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Do you think I hold it against everyone who likes to put a little something extra in their coffee? Likes to have a little liquid courage to talk to the cute guy across the bar?”

Whiskey’s face twisted and his eyes seemed to dilate before he scrunched them shut. A shaking hand pushed through his hair.

“I work at a distillery for a man named Whiskey.”

Another silence stretched between them. She would swear he could hear her heartbeat in the quiet of the room.

A careful hand reached out to touch his wrist, too afraid to do much else. “Stay,” she whispered. “Stay with me.”

And his eyes finally opened.

Champ smiled and congratulated them on a job well done. It was a week since the entire Golden Circle situation had been handled. Tequila was well. Whiskey’s mind was clear. And their profits had never been higher.

Merlin, Harry, and Eggsy were standing at the end of the table and each held a glass of amber liquid as everyone raised a toast. Whiskey was sitting across from his Sunny, golden glasses perched on the edge of his nose. He probably should have been listening to what was Champ was saying but all he could see was how she licked her lips after taking a sip of her cranberry juice.

Statesmen, knowing an ally when they saw one, had purchased a distillery in Scotland. It was the perfect guise to help Kingsman rebuild and keep their money looking “clean.” Yes, he should have listened.

Because the Kid opened his mouth and said Kingsman needed more agents.

“I think Ginger would be a great Kingsman,” Sunny said with a smile.

Ginger, tucked into a corner a drink of her own, smiled in return. “I…”

“Agreed,” Whiskey heard himself saying. And he quickly realized that he meant it.

Ginger’s eyes went wide and she nearly sloshed the entirety of her drink across her shirt.

Champ laughed. “Alrighty then. Ginger Ale, well, I guess you’ll get a new code name, won’t ya?”

But the Kid’s smile widened. “And I was thinking Cap could come, too.” He turned to her and shrugged a shoulder. “Whaddya say, Cap? I’ll show you the real London.”

Whiskey looked at her, feeling like someone had shoved their fist down his throat. Don’t go. Don’t leave.

“I always wanted to be a knight of the round table.”

The men at the end of the table cheered again and Ginger walked over to knock their glasses together.

And while everyone continued to pat themselves on the back for completing the mission, all he could feel was cold.

The revelry eventually died down and Whiskey found himself the last one seated at the table. Everyone else filtered out to ready for the next mission—or the move to London. It was just him and Champ. The older man plopped down in the seat beside him and refilled his empty glass.

“London is only a few hours by plane from New York.”

He took a long pull from his glass.

“I’ve never known you to wait for something you wanted, Whiskey. But sure seemed to drag your ass on this one.”

“What are you talkin’ about, Champ?” He finally asked after another large gulp of alcohol.

But Champ just shook his head with a throaty chuckle. “You two are a mess.”

Royal weddings were…an event, she was finding.

After nearly losing Princess Tilde to the Golden Circle, Eggsy actually proposed. And with Harry now known as Arthur and presiding over Kingsman, the rules changed. Attachments were allowed. And because Tilde knew his fellow Kingsman were like Eggsy’s family, they were invited to the wedding. A handful of Statesmen, too. It had been a year since Poppy’s demise in Cambodia and the world was (mostly) at peace. Kingsman managed to salvage quite a bit from the wreckage of their former bases and Statesmen funded the rest of their necessary rebuilds. It was slow-going, and a handful of new agents were still finding their footing after graduating from the selection process.

“Please tell me Tequila is not wearing jeans,” she muttered.

Ginger, now known as Agent Percival, rolled her eyes with an affectionate smile as she spotted the jean-clad man amid the rest of the American crowd. “I could but that would be a lie.” She paused. “But Whiskey certainly dressed for the occasion.”

She leaned forward just the slightest bit to see Whiskey dressed in a fine tuxedo. “Is that one of ours?”

Ginger hummed. “He came in a few days ago for a fitting.”

She swallowed the saliva filling her mouth and turned back to watch Eggsy nervously fidget with his cufflinks at the end of the aisle. “Looks good.”

The ceremony finished after the vows and a bit of perfunctory reading and singing before the guests were all chauffeured over to the reception space at the royal palace. “You know, Merlin told me that you and Whiskey are quite fond of using emojis in your emails,” Ginger said as dinner was cleared away and dessert started to be served.

Her glass of water nearly slipped from her grip as embarrassment washed over her. “I was told those were private.”

“Nothing’s private in our line of work,” Ginger said with a pat to her hand. “But you haven’t really explained what is going on between you two.”

She rubbed at her temples. How could she possibly explain that she knew Whiskey, while his brain was still scrambled, wanted to let everyone infected with the Blue Rash die? How could she explain that she, despite all that, missed his smile and stupid mustache? Missed how he had terrible pick-up lines that always made her roll her eyes? Missed how she always seemed a little lighter whenever he would waltz into her office in New York?

Their constant contact devolved away from work and missions and into their private lives. He would ask after Bela and she would ask him to tell her about the view from his office window. It was now a strange sort of friendship that she treasured and protected despite how they hadn’t seen each other in person in over a year. She had taken the position at Kingsman, took the code name Agent Mordred, moved to London. It should have been a clean break. She could have kept their communications purely professional. But she didn’t. She just couldn’t truly let him go.

But on the outside, she shrugged as her hands dropped away from her face.

“It looks like I’ll be able to see for myself because he’s on his way over here.”

Her head snapped up at the sound of Ginger’s smug tone and, sure enough, Whiskey was on his way over, walking through the dancing crowd and wandering guests, right toward their table.

“But oh no. Would you look at that, I need more champagne.” Ginger then scampered off and left her alone.

Whiskey easily took Ginger’s vacated seat and smiled at her. “Hey, Sunshine.”

“Hey, bos-Whiskey.”

He chuckled at her slip. His head tilted to the side as he looked at her, eyes trailing down her form and she resisted a shiver like a teenaged girl but was silently thankful for the designer dress that fit her like a glove in a soft blue silk. “You look good.”

“You too.” And he did. The tuxedo was impeccably cut and the darkest black. A pristine white shirt was held back with a matching cummerbund and a black bowtie was slightly crooked around his neck. She reached out and straightened it.

He reached up to keep her hand pressed against his chest with a small smile. “I miss you.” It was whispered like a secret.

“We talk every day.” But she didn’t pull her hand away.

“ ‘s not the same and you know it.” He squeezed her hand. “Dance with me?” Wordlessly, he led her out onto the dance floor and pulled her close.

His expensive cologne made her mind swim but she resisted the urge to rest her cheek against his shoulder despite every nerve in her body telling her to do so. The music was slow, soft, and romantic. The lighting was low and accentuated by flickering candles that danced across the golden walls of the royal ballroom. If she could let herself remember anything—it would be this moment. Held in the arms of the man she loved even if it was just for a tiny sliver of time.

“I never thanked you, you know.”

“For what?”

“Saving me. My head was a mess—even before Butterfly Guy put a bullet in it. It took me a while but I…” He shook his head. “You’ve given me a second chance.”

She cocked her head to the side with a smile. “To save the world?”

Whiskey’s smile was small and his cheeks reddened the slightest bit but his dark eyes never left her face. His grip on her hand and waist tightened the slightest bit. “A second chance at everything.”

She chuckled and ignored how her chest tightened. Reading into it would only make it hurt.

A/N: Thank you for reading!

Beautiful people who asked to be tagged: @spookyold-saintjm @honestlystop @paryl @fioccodineveautunnale @lackofhonor

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey imagine #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels imagine #agent whiskey #kingsman the golden circle

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all-things-skam · 4 years

Text

Jens’ season | Chapter three

Saturday, January 18th

After the pre-game at Robbe’s, they all moved to some party Jana had found and invited them to. He and Jana had made out a bit, but Jens’ mind couldn’t help wandering to Lucas who was making his phone buzz in his pocket. It felt wrong to make out with someone while thinking about someone else. Jens couldn’t do it. So, he made up some lie about feeling dizzy from alcohol and needing to go home.

Regardless, the night had ended late for Jens. He and Lucas had messaged back and forth all night, getting to know each other through Instagram DMs.

Jens learned that Lucas liked Indie Pop music and hated Marvel movies - even though they look really cool. They are just too long and Lucas could never sit through a whole movie. He broke his arm last year trying to do a trick on the half-pipe, but that didn't stop him from going back on his skateboard the following day. Sweet food was his favorite - as stated at the café. Cakes, pastries, chocolate, pancakes...anything sweet.

The more they chatted, Jens realized that Lucas must have plans with his friends. He only got to see them every other weekend and Jens felt bad from keeping the blue-eyed boy on his phone instead of spending time with them. But, Lucas assured him it was okay, that actually he was glad to have company.

His Friday night didn't go how he had expected it to. What was supposed to be a bowling night ended up being Lucas walking a drunk Isa home after she threw up in the bushes in front of the bowling alley. While he had a good laugh trying to get Isa upstairs, he’d rather lay in bed and talk with Jens.

When he woke up, Jens saw a notification from Lucas. His phone was so close to his face due to falling asleep with it last night that the flashing screen made him groan. He squinted and rubbed his eyes, adjusting to the bright light of the screen.

vanderheijden.lucas Jens? Still there?

vanderheijden.lucas Did you fall asleep? If so, good night. I think I’m going to crash too

A smile crept on Jens’ face, reading Lucas’ messages.

Before he could write anything back, his door opened and Lotte ran and jumped on her big brother’s bed, attacking Jens with morning hugs. A bit startled, Jens’ phone slipped from his hands, landing on his comforter. Lotte screeched as Jens caught her and started tickling her.

''S-stop, stop,'' she demanded between giggles, wiggling and trying to push Jens away with her hands and feet. ''It t-tickles.''

Jens pursued his tickle attack for a couple seconds, stopping when he felt his sister’s breath shorten. ‘’That’s what you get for waking me so early.’’

Lotte frowned. ‘’It’s not early. It’s 10am.’’

‘’For me, it is.’’

The eight year old rolled her eyes, annoyed at her brother's late sleeping-in and morning laziness. ‘’I have something for you.’’

Sitting straighter, Jens raised an eyebrow, curious. ‘’Oh? What is it?’’

Looking around on the mattress, Lotte picked up the piece of paper at the end of Jen's bed and handed him the card she made. It was made out of pink cardboard paper and had drawings of colorful balloons on the cover, spelling 'Happy Birthday' in bold letters. There was a ton of stickers and glitter all around, making a mess on Jens' comforter.

The paper was a bit crumpled from the tickle attack, but it's the thought that mattered. Jens smiled and opened the card, reading Lotte's crooked handwriting. These homemade cards his sister gave him every year were Jens' favorite birthday presents - beside money and alcohol. They were childish, but so meaningful.

His smile widened as he read the short yet heartfelt message. He could tell she had the help of a teacher for the spelling, but they were her words.

''I'm going to a sleepover at Ines' tonight and won't be here to give it to you,’’ Lotte explained.

Jens pulled his sister for a big bear hug. “Thank you for this. You're the best little sister ever,'' he said, returning her own words. Lotte grinned and Jens decided to tease her a bit. ‘’You’re the only sister I have though...don’t have much of a choice.’’

The brunette pulled her eyebrows, giving her brother a look.

‘’I’m kidding.’’ Jens scooted over, tapping the space next to him. ‘’Get in. We can watch a movie before I have to get ready.’’

Lotte looked at Jens with the biggest grin on her face. “Can we watch the new Dr. Dolittle?”

Discontentment and annoyance flashed across Jens’ face. Animal movies were not his thing. Cats & Dogs, Beverly Hills Chihuahua, Marmaduke; he couldn't stand those. As a kid, he was always more into super heroes like Spiderman or Batman. He would watch those for hours on repeat - and had managed to learn all the lines.

The pout on Lotte’s face made him cave and reach for his laptop, about to look for that damn Dr. Dolittle movie.

''Birthday boy is here!'' Moyo called cheerfully, phone in hand, filming as Jens made his entrance into the flatshare. He hooked an arm around Jens' shoulder, pulling him in a bro hug. ‘’How does it feel to be seventeen?’’

Jens rolled his eyes at Moyo’s question. ‘’I don’t know. It’s not my birthday, yet…’’ he pointed out, laughing.

Aaron stepped in next, pushing a beer into Jens' hands. They had stronger stuff in the kitchen, but Aaron figured he could start with a beer. It was only 9pm, too early to get drunk. Unless you want to spend your evening sleeping in a corner or with your head in the toilet.

This party was a last minute idea. The initial plan was to go to a bar, but they were all too broke to go out - perks of being a teenager. Neither of the boys could host either, their parents all home this weekend. Except Robbe, who was at the flatshare. But, the place was already taken by Milan’s own birthday party. Having heard their dilema, Milan kindly offered to share his party and celebrate Jens’ birthday too. After all, birthday siblings gotta stick together.

Jens accepted the beer and took a long swig. ‘’Let’s get this party started!’’

Moyo and Aaron cheered on each of his sides, pulling their friend through the mass of people in the living room where they found Robbe - attached to Sander's neck, dancing.

The small boy detached himself from Sander when he spotted Jens, wishing his best friend a happy birthday. Sander did the same, exchanging a quick hug in greetings before pulling Robbe back to him, kissing his cheek.

In true Milan fashion, the apartment was decorated to the max. There was paper streamers taped all over the walls and ceilings along with balloons and even a huge banner on the living room’s wall. A pink fringed curtain separated the kitchen from the rest, as if to let everyone know where the good stuff was.

Jana quickly found Jens, stumbling and holding onto his shoulder for stability. ‘’Happy birthday,’’ she said to him, throwing her arms around his neck and spilling some wine on the floor. Thank god it was white wine.

Sunday, January 19th

Jens was a bit hungover when he woke up.

Who was he trying to fool? He was totally hungover. All the alcohol he had downed and mixed felt heavy in his stomach, threatening to come back up. His head was pounding and his back was aching due to sleeping on Milan’s couch.

Over all, he felt like...death.

Jens grunted in displeasure, trying to roll over and grab his phone on the floor - unplugged. If his head didn't hurt this much, he would’ve laughed at his failed attempt to plug his phone, the charger laying a few centimeters from his phone with no phone attached. Good job, Drunk-Jens…

He unlocked the screen and saw a message from his mom, asking what time he was planning to come home - followed by a quick ‘happy birthday’.

Sighing, Jens turned it off and stood, feeling the room spin for a few seconds, probably still a little bit drunk. Steadying himself, he walked past Aaron’s sleeping bag and almost tripped on Moyo’s makeshift bed on the floor. Can’t this boy clean up after himself? Or, was Jens too clumsy?

He heard Zoe and Milan talking, quickly followed by the sound of Moyo and Sander laughing. Jens followed the voices, coming from the kitchen, hood covering his messy hair.

''And he's up!'' Moyo commented as he made his entrance, interrupting the current conversation.

''How's the birthday boy feeling this morning?'' Milan teased, sensing his hangover.

Aaron and Moyo snickered and Jens flipped them off. ''Like I got rolled over by a fucking truck,'' he answered honestly, voice croaky from the lack of hydration.

Last night, Jana had made him chug wine while they danced, and the boys vodka. Seventeen shots for his seventeenth birthday. What a great idea.

Sander was sitting on the kitchen counter - lacking seats -, sipping coffee with Zoe. It was unlike him to wake up before Robbe - or be anywhere without him -, but someone had to make decent coffee.

‘’Want some?’’ Zoe kindly offered.

Jens nodded and she poured him a cup. Hopefully it'll wake him up and ease his hangover - or make it disappear altogether.

‘’Want some vodka in your coffee?’’ Sander asked with a smirk.

Jens made a grimace, stomach churning. ‘’Don’t mention the devil.’’

Sander laughed and got down from the counter, asking if anyone wanted breakfast. Zoe offered to help, knowing no one else could cook in this household.

They took everyone’s orders, settling on eggs and pancakes. Usually, Jens would be down for some good homemade breakfast, but there was no way he could stomach food right now. Just the smell of it made his stomach turn.

Head on the kitchen table, the birthday boy listened as Moyo shared his retelling of last night's escapades. Since his failed attempt with Noor, his pride was a bit wounded and he had taken Aaron's spot as the desperate one of the gang. He ranted about this cute blonde with a plunging top, putting emphasis on how close he was to kissing her, but skipped the part where she slapped him. Too bad for him, Jens happened to have caught the scene when coming out of the bathroom.

And while they all agreed Aaron was the worst in the flirting department... Moyo wasn't much better.

As they were talking, Jens felt like his head was about to explode, how was he supposed to go home like this later? He doubted his hangover would go unnoticed by his parents. Especially his mom. It’s like she has a sixth sense or something.

Just as Zoe and Sander deposited the food on the table, a sleepy eyed Robbe walked into the kitchen, hair messy and sticking up here and there. He wasn't even wearing pants, just an oversized tee shirt, covering just enough.

“Do I smell pancakes?” he asked.

Sander snorted, unimpressed. ‘’Of course, that’s what gets you out of bed.” Robbe smiled lazily and went to sit on Sander’s lap, already missing his boyfriend’s touch. “Now I know what gets you up in the morning!”

Robbe pressed his forehead against Sanders, mumbling quietly. “I can tell you of a few other things that get me up in the morning”

“Hey, we are eating here, man,” Moyo groaned, tearing his eyes away from the couple and scrunching his face.

“Well, at least you don’t have to live with them 24/7” Milan lamented.

Zoe agreed, scooping a pancake onto a plate and taking it to the counter to eat. The kitchen was a tad bit small for all these people, but they made it work.

‘’You’re not eating?’’ the blonde asked Jens, eyebrows raised, but the boy shook his head. ‘’It might not sound like it, but eating could make you feel better. Alcohol causes low blood sugar. Eating breakfast actually helps get your sugar levels up while the alcohol comes out of your system.’’

‘’I’m good.

Jens felt his phone buzz in his hand. He lifted his head and Looked at the screen, seeing an Instagram notification.

vanderheijden.lucas sent you a message.

Jens opened his phone and stared at a flashing ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ gif.

vanderheijden.lucas I hope you had a great birthday. Sorry I couldn’t be there, but I’ll definitely see you next Friday

Monday, January 20th

Jens felt a lot better on Monday. The content of his stomach was no longer threatening to come up and the elephant sitting on his head was gone.

He had vomited his guts in the bathroom when coming home yesterday and had to make up a lie about eating something bad at Robbe's and upsetting his stomach. His knew his lie was mediocre and his mom probably saw through it, but didn't say a thing. He was a teenager and it was his birthday, he's allowed to have fun once in a while.

He was on his way to meet the boys for lunch when someone walked past him and bumped into him on the staircase.

''Sorry, I should watch where I’m going.’’

Caught off guard, Jens forced a smile, turning more genuine when seeing Lucas. His curly fringe was perfectly swept on the side and the color of his jacket matching his blue eyes.

“It’s cool. How was your weekend?'' Jens said, trying to stay smooth and chill.

He didn't know why, but Lucas's presence had the tendency to destabilize his confidence a bit.

Lucas shrugged. “It was good. I hadn't gone home since my dad and I moved here two weeks ago. It felt good to spend some time with my mom and see my friends. I really miss it sometimes...but then I run into you and it doesn’t seem so bad.”

He smirked and Jens' didn't know how to react. His stomach dropped, surprised, but not shocked. Was Lucas flirting with him again?

''I saw your stories, it seemed like you had a lot of fun at your party?''

“Yeah, it was great, but I got a wicked hangover that I’m still getting over.''

''Have sex.''

''Excuse me?''

''Sex is an excellent cure for hangover.''

Jens raised an eyebrow. ‘’Does it?’’ He paused, raising his gaze to meet Lucas’, clear blue irises looking right into his. ’’I’m gonna need a partner for that, though...’’

The brunet cocked an eyebrow, still holding Jens' stare, reading through the heavy subtext. They had entered a new level of flirting and neither were mad about it.

Lucas licked his lips slowly, making something in Jens' stomach flipped over at the gesture, and the Netherland boy took a step closer towards him, nearly closing all the space between them. Lucas opened his mouth, but before he could say - or do - anything, someone called Lucas’ name.

''Luc! Come on, man, we’re going to be late.''

''I gotta go. See you later, Jens,’’ Lucas said, readjusting the bag on his shoulder and winking before leaving.

Tuesday, January 21st

A knock on Jens' door woke him from his slumber. His first thought was that it was his sister joining him for the night, but Lotte never knocked. Jens frowned. Slipping out from his covers, the teenager walked to the door, eyes barely open, still half-asleep.

The hallway light caused Jens to squint his eyes and hiss. He rubbed them with his palms, adjusting to the light. ''Mom?''

She was in her bathrobe, hair down from her usual bun, slightly messy due to her pillow. ''Sorry to wake you, honey,'' Fenna apologized in a hushed voice, cautious to not wake her sleeping daughter next door.

It was very unusual for his mom to wake him in the middle of the night - unless something was going on. Did she get an emergency call from work? Jens hadn't heard his father come home, did he get into an accident? His frown deepened, getting worried.

''What is it, Mom?''

Fenna sighed and looked down, the bags under her eyes appearing more prominent. ''Your dad is drunk. Can you help me take him to bed?'' He could sense the shame in her voice from having to ask her son for help with his drunk father.

Jens nodded, mentally shaking his head in disappointment.

He followed his mom down and walked into the living room, taking in the state of his inebriated father, passed out on the loveseat, shoes still on and jacket half off. Jens felt a burst of resentment towards his dad in that moment. How could he drink so much that his own son was having to drag him to his room so his little sister wouldn’t see her dad this way? How could he do that to his wife too? Doesn’t she work hard enough at the hospital? She doesn’t need to come home and have to deal with her drunk husband.

''I tried to get him to move, but he's being stubborn and-'' Fenna started to explain, a yawn interrupting her.

It was the first time it happened and Jens hoped it was the last - for his dad's own good. Coming home late and picking fights with his mom was one thing, coming home drunk was another.

''Go back to bed, Mom. I'll take care of this,'' Jens said, taking in the state his dad was in. He reeked of beer and whiskey.

Fenna refused. ''No. It shouldn't be your job to take care of your dad.''

‘’He’s just a dead weight. I'll manage.''

Her eyes shifted between her son and husband, feeling guilty for making Jens take care of Mohamed. He was a kid, it wasn’t his responsibility. But, she had already tried to get him upstairs and didn't succeed. All she did was get one half of his jacket off.

With one last look at her son, Fenna gave in. ''Alright. I'll go get his side of the bed ready. Just bring him upstairs, okay?''

Jens nodded and watched as his mom returned to the second floor, leaving him to deal with his dad. The teenager sighed, dreading the work to come.

''Dad?''

The man grumbled, half responsive. Jens didn't lose time trying to understand whatever he was trying to say and threw his dad's arm over his neck, getting him to sit up just enough to remove his jacket. Like he said, he was a dead weight which made the task a bit difficult.

''Can you stand?'' Jens asked, trying to not let his irritation show.

He helped his old man up, slinging one of his arms behind his neck and keeping one hand behind his dad's back as support. Mohamed felt heavy on Jens.

Mohamed mumbled something that Jens couldn’t understand.

“What did you say?”

“ I said, your mom hates me.” His voice was rough and slurred.

Jens sighed. “She doesn’t hate you, but you need to start doing better. She can’t keep working these double shifts all the time, and you can’t be coming home drunk like that. It’s not fair to her, and it’s not fair to Lotte or me either. I shouldn't have to do this, Dad.” He wasn't trying to guilt-trip his dad, just talk some sense into him.

There was a long silence before Mohamed responded. “I’m trying, okay? But nobody wants to hire a 40 year old with minimal training.'' He scoffed before going into a coughing fit. ''Anyway, why am I even telling you this? You're just a teenager that has no idea what it means to support a family.”

Jens tried to not let his dad's words get to him. While he wasn’t a parent, he had been kind of forced to take over his dad’s responsibilities and play the head of the house for his family recently.

After a difficult struggle, Jens finally got his dad to his room and safely into bed. He wasn't so drunk he'd have to be watched over, but Jens took all the precautions - just in case. He put a pillow behind him so he'd stay on his side during the night and set a glass of water on the nightstand, right by his phone.

Jens gave Mohamed one last glance, his eyes darting to his sleeping mother. He wished that things could be different for her, that she didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. She was a good mom and Jens knew she would do whatever it took to take care of her family, but he couldn't let her put her health in jeopardy.

With a heavy sigh, Jens quietly closed the door and returned to his own bed.

Thursday, January 23rd

''Hi,'' Amber said, interrupting Jens and Aaron's conversation, leaning in to kiss her boyfriend, lingering a bit too long - and with too much tongue - to be appropriate for school grounds. At least, in the middle of the main hall.

Jens rolled his eyes, tearing them away from the unwanted tongue battle in front of him. Seeing his annoyance, Jana saw this as an opening and smiled before going in for a kiss. Unlike Aaron, Jens dodged her lips and pulled out his phone, checking if he had any new messages.

He had seen her coming - of course he did -, but something inside him didn't want to kiss her. Especially when he was starting to feel something for a certain blue eyed boy.

Kissing at parties - or at home - was for fun, but kissing at school felt a bit too official for Jens' liking. No one kissed their Saturday hook up in the hallway between classes. He didn't want to give Jana the wrong idea and then hurt her feelings.

The brunette frowned, confused and hurt.

Jens could feel her sulking, but he didn’t say a thing, acting as if he wasn’t aware of what he did. Sometimes, playing dumb got you out of trouble.

Sulking, Jana pulled at her friend's arm, forcing their kiss to end. ''Amber.''

‘’What?’’ the blonde said, turning to Jana. ‘’Oh! Right. Change of plans. My parents are away this weekend so I’m celebrating my birthday a bit early. You’ll come?’’

‘’Sure babe, we’ll be there, right Jens?’’ Aaron nudged him, forcing the raven haired one to look up from his phone.

Jens faked a smile. ‘’Sure.’’

Jens pressed the doorbell and waited.

He had texted Moyo's guy earlier today and had been given an address to meet at. At first, the guy was skeptical, but Jens mentioned Moyo and everything was chill.

Dogs started barking at the doorbell noise and Jens' back straightened. A man told them to shut up - which they did -, and someone popped their head out, keeping the door mostly shut. He had a buzz cut, clean cut beard and the tattoo on his neck gave Jens the chills.

Seeing a new face, the man glanced up and down at Jens and raised an expectant eyebrow, asking what he wanted.

''Erm, I've been given this address. I'm here to see...Michiel.''

If he had told Moyo the truth, he wouldn’t have given Jens his dealer’s number. While his intentions were good, dealing drugs - even just weed - was very unsafe. The risks of getting caught and consequences were higher than just smoking it. But, all Jens saw was a way to make a quick buck and help his family.

The guy disappeared inside for a few seconds, probably talking to his boss, and came back to let Jens inside.

Unlike the previous guy, this one was much shorter, but non the less intimidating. He had a thick gold chain around his neck and a scar above his eyebrow. ‘’You asked for me?’’

‘’I…’’

Jens felt like an idiot. He had always been a pretty confident person, but Michiel’s presence made him nervous - with good reason. Drug dealers weren’t the kind of people you want to mess with.

‘’If you want to buy, see one of my guys, Kid. I just make the big deals.’’ Michiel was around to turn his back and leave, but Jens spoke up.

‘’Actually, that’s what I’m here for. A friend referred me to you, saying you might have something for me. A job.’’

Michiel glanced at Jens up and down, just like the previous guy, and scoffed. ''I already have my guys.''

Under his grey hoodie, smooth skin and dangly earring, Jens was too clean for Michiel’s taste. He could never pass as a pusher, he looked too young.

Seeing through his thoughts, Jens took another approach.

''Look at me. No one will suspect it. I...I can cover at school? Or even the skatepark? People there are always looking for weed. I’m sure I could bring you good cash.’’

The man hesitated still. Teenagers weren't the most trustworthy pushers. Most would either use all the drug and run off. But, something was different about Jens. He had this insistence and self-motivation that got Michiel’s attention.

‘’I need fast cash. Give me a chance. I...I really need it,'' Jens almost begged. He tried to cover his emotions, not wanting to sound too desperate even though, in his head, he was on his knees. He needed this job really bad.

Michiel’s silence got Jens scared he had blown his shot. ‘’You do have a pretty face,’’ he pointed out. ‘’Make sure I don't have to ruin it, okay?''

Jens nodded rapidly.

‘’You’re on trial. I’ll give you a couple grams and I need them sold as fast as possible. Give me a shout when you’re done.’’ Michiel paused. ‘’Don’t disappoint me, Kid.’’

Friday, January 24th

The bag of weed in his backpack felt heavy. Cert, there was more grams than Jens usually took to parties, but weed doesn’t weight much. It was more the pressure of having to sell it that made it heavy.

Being a smoker of green for over two years, it was his first time actually selling weed. He had sold some to guys at the skatepark, a gram or two, but he was never a pusher, as they called them. The term sounded dirty and wrong in his head. Jens knew it was something he shouldn’t be doing, but his parents needed money.

Robbe giggled at something Sander said, already a bit tipsy from the beers they drank at his place. He had hosted a pre-game, the first one since he moved back with his mom, and he didn’t slow down on the beers. At his boyfriend's behavior, Sander had kept it low with the alcohol, knowing he’ll be the one to carry Robbe home later and couldn’t do that if he was too intoxicated.

For the first time, Aaron hadn’t been present at the pre-game. Being the boyfriend of the birthday girl, he was already at the party, helping Amber and the girls with the decorations and all that.

Moyo pressed the doorbell, waiting for someone to open. They could hear the shitty pop music Amber loved from the doorstep. Sander grimaced at the music choice, Amber’s music taste being added to the list of things he didn’t like about her.

‘’I’m gonna....go see Kobe,’’ Jens announced, seeing him by the window with a couple guys from the skatepark. ‘’I’ll be right back.’’

Jens and Kobe weren’t friends. He had sold him weed once and shared a blunt behind some bushes at the skatepark one afternoon. What Jens knew was that the guy was always looking to buy weed, having no regular dealer, aka easy cash for Jens.

Moyo nodded, heading to the kitchen to look for Aaron with Robbe and Sander following behind, holding hands and walking close.

‘’ ‘Sup, man,’’ Kobe said as Jens approached them.

‘’Good, good,’’ Jens responded, responding to the brunet’s fist exchange.

‘’Long time no see.’’

‘’Yeah… Eh, I might have something for you.’’ Jens raised his eyebrows and motionned for Kobe to follow him.

Kobe nodded, a knowing smile on his lips, getting what Jens meant. He told his friends he was going with Jens for a few minutes, having something he wanted to tell him in private.

Jens almost snorted at Kobe’s lack of subtlety. This guy was worse than Aaron - if possible.

Half of his stock sold, thanks to Kobe and the guys they ran into on Amber’s balcony. Turned out selling weed wasn’t as difficult as Jens had initially thought. Being at a party was helping his sales, but it was relatively easy. People bought by chunks of two or three grams with promises of buying more next time Jens had some, not having a lot of cash on them.

Fiddling with the doors, Jens found himself in the bathroom, trying to hide from the outside world that sometimes got a bit too overwhelming. It’s not that he didn't like to party, he just hadn't been in the mood lately. There was a lot on his mind and, sometimes, he just couldn’t escape it.

‘’Hiding from someone?’’

The voice startled Jens, but when he saw who it was he just shrugged. ‘’I don’t feel like partying tonight, is all.’’

Lucas hummed. ‘’Mind if I join?’’ He reached into his jacket’s pocket and pulled out a slightly cooked joint. ‘’I have weed. Straight from Netherlands.’’

Who was Jens to refuse free weed. He shifted in the tub, making room for Lucas.

‘’I’ve been wanting to ask: why did you move here? I know your parents got divorce, but isn’t changing countries is a bit extreme?’’ He passed the joint to Lucas, head leaned back against the tiled wall, starting to feel the buzz.

Lucas smiled at the ceiling. ‘’Try telling my father that. If you ask me, he tried to take me away from my mom; if you ask him, he got a job offer he couldn’t refuse.’’ He took a drag and exhaled the smoke through his nose. ‘’I didn’t want to go, but according to the judge, he’s the one who can offer me a ‘better life’. So I had to go with him.’’

‘’Why would he take you away from your mom? Is she ill or something.’’

‘’Or something,’’ Lucas confirmed, not comfortable talking about this part of his life yet. He handed Jens the joint again.

‘’Left a girl at home?’’

Lucas snorted. ‘’A girl? Who said I’m into girls?’’

Jens shrugged, not knowing what to answer.

Lucas never explicitly said who he was attracted to, why did Jens assume that he was straight? By default, maybe? Despite all the progress the LGBTQ+ community is making in society, history had a way of bleeding into our subconscious. So, unless someone showed a ‘behavior that defied the default’, they were classified as straight.

‘’I tried girls, but it wasn’t for me,’’ Lucas started. He shook his head, thinking back at his mistake. ‘’They’re pretty, but it wasn’t doing it for me, you know?’’

Jens nodded. A part of him understood what Lucas meant, but another didn’t. Unlike Lucas, Jens liked girls. Their long hair, sweet perfume, smooth skin - and boobs. But, more recently, he found himself looking at boys - one, in particular.

‘’I was in love with a boy - my best friend,’’ Lucas continued. ‘’He had a girlfriend, who was also my friend, and I fucked it all up.’’

‘’Your chances with him?’’ Jens tried.

‘’No. That was pretty much dead from the start,’’ Lucas explained with a chuckle. ‘’Our friendship, their relationship.’’

‘’So, you’re a homewrecker?’’

Lucas gasped, kicking Jens’ leg playfully. Jens gave him a small grin.

‘’Hey what happened to sharing? You’re hogging the weed,’’ Jens pointed out, mildly annoyed.

''Come and get it,'' Lucas teased, pulling the joint at arm's length, away from Jens's reach. There was a challenging tone in his voice, almost daring Jens to come closer.

A bit too intoxicated - and high - to think properly, Jens leaned over, hovering over Lucas as he tried to get a hold of the joint. Lucas laughed, moving the lit joint every time Jens was close to take it. Jens was getting frustrated, his reflexes slower than usual because of the marijuana.

Jens started laughed too, having difficulty holding himself up in the small tub. ''Stop it.''

Lucas continued his little game, their laughter caused Jens to lose balance and slip. Thankfully, he was able to grab at the tub's edge, preventing himself from crushing Lucas under - or cracking his skull.

''Sorry,'' Jens apologized.

He was about to raise himself back up, but stopped when he realized how dangerously close they were to each other, faces only a few inches apart. Jens's body stilled, breath catching in his throat as his heart rate started to pick up behind his chest. His dark eyes easily found Lucas's blue ones and Lucas stopped laughing. He stared back at Jens, taking in his sharp cheekbones and plump lips.

Jens made the first move, eyelids slowly fluttering shut as he closed the gap between them, pressing his lips on Lucas.

Undoubtedly, when Jens came to this party, he didn't have the intention of kissing Lucas in Amber's bathtub. But, one thing led to another and here he was, sitting back in the tub and kissing the new kid.

Sparks didn't fly when their lips touched, which was a bit disappointing. Or, maybe it did? The weed was confusing his senses.

Kissing a boy wasn't that much different than kissing girls, in the end. It was the same mechanics; lips on lips - and sometimes tongue. Lucas' lips were very soft for a boy. They tasted like weed and beer too, which Jens didn't mind. It was a nice change from the usual sweet and sticky feeling of glosses and lipsticks or whatever girls put on their lips.

A breathy moan left Lucas' lips as one of Jens' hands came up to cup his jaw, holding him in place as his tongue grazed over Lucas' mouth, teeth closing on his bottom lip and pulling. Jens' senses were buzzing and his mind was too far behind to function.

Lucas' free hand snaked behind Jens' neck, grasping at his thick, dark hair, giving it a slight tug, the single earring dangling as they kissed. Jens breathed a moan into the kiss at the feeling and Lucas smirked, content with himself, before doing it again.

Fuck. How did he get here?

Jens broke the kiss, needing to catch his breath and the brunet took advantage of the taller one's neck being exposed to trail his lips up and down the tanned skin. It will most likely leave marks behind, but Jens couldn’t be bothered to care. At the moment, it felt really good.

Jens cradled Lucas’ face in his hands, guiding him back up and brought their lips together again. This time, the kiss was softer and slower, savoring the feeling of those beautiful pouty lips he had wished to kiss for weeks.

#jens stoffels #wtfock #lucas van der heijden #van der stoffels #vds #jens's season #skam nl #vds fic #lucas x jens #jens x lucas

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chocochar · 4 years

Text

ᴍʏ ɪᴅᴏʟ ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ | ɪᴅᴏʟ!ꜱʜᴏᴜᴛᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | Part 1

Part 2: TBA

(AN: I'm excited af to do this, and yet I've never written for Shouto before and I don't know how well this will do. XD But here we are!

Quick Notes:

Everyone is 3 years older than canon, so like Shouto, Izuku, etc are all 18, Natsuo is 22, Fuyumi is 26-27, etc.

This is a no quirks AU.

(F/n) = First name

(L/n) = Last name

(C/n) = Cousin's name

With almost every chapter I'm going to include fake tweets or texts/DMs that the characters make during the chapters. Just mentioning this so they don't seem out of place, I thought it'd be an interesting idea... (＃⌒∇⌒＃)ゞ

I think that's it, so let's jump in, yeah? (๑´ω`๑) )

[(F/n)'s POV]

It's a day that, for the most part, is like any other. I wake up at around 10 AM, shower, and get dressed before having something for breakfast and sitting on my couch. Living in a small apartment not too far from my college my walls hold pictures of me and my friends and family, some shelves with things I like to decorate my little home with, and posters of my favorite shows as well as my favorite idol group: DYNAMITE.

In this day and age Japanese and Korean idol groups are the big things people talk about; social media is flooded with posts and profiles dedicated to these celebrities, from the girl groups to the boys. The top two, though, are undeniably H3R0 and DYNAMITE. While I'm a huge fan of the latter most of my friends and my cousin are big into H3R0. Given the groups rivalry we've discussed which is better and who would win in a 'singing and dance battle' between the two, that's supposedly been rumored about, but I've always tried to stay out of arguments involving which is better. Sometimes it's unavoidable, but most of the time I escape the situation.

Not saying I don't like H3R0, they've got great music and the members are all gorgeous, I mean I follow them all on Twitter, I just prefer DYNAMITE. Checking my phone and Twitter I see the three boys of H3R0 all posted within the last hour, talking about their concert tonight...

...Which I'm being dragged to. By (C/n). Having today and tomorrow off of work at my family's restaurant and currently on a break from school I was going to relax the days away, probably be glued to my laptop or TV, but last night she decided to call me begging I go with her tonight.

"(F/n), pleeeeeeaaaasssse!! Suki fell through and Erika has work, please come with me!!"

"Why me? You know I'm more of a DYNAMITE fan, plus I don't know how I feel being your last resort," I replied, in the middle of making dinner.

"I'll give you all my DYNAMITE stuff if you do! And you were my first thought but obviously I didn't ask you right away since, y'know, you being a fan of their enemies and all," she said, and I nearly told her no, but then again staying home for 2 straight days might get a little lonely... And I wanted that merch.

Checking the time after a couple of hours watching TV and playing around on my phone I see it's after 1 and knowing she'll be here around 4 to get me so we can get there early I stand with a groan and go to do any makeup I feel like doing as well as brushing my hair.

By the time (C/n) shows up I'm all ready and I comment,"I thought you said 4, it's only 3:15."

"Well it doesn't hurt to get there as early as possible! I want as much merch as I can get," she replies, crossing her arms. I grab my jacket and follow her out, replying,"They're not going to run out of merch just because we're behind a few dozen people."

The drive there is as expected, busy and we get in nearly two accidents because she's driving like a crazy person. Parking she almost doesn't wait for me as she runs to get in line, the two of us getting a decent spot at least right before the mobs show up. Looking around I feel awkward; so many excited and screaming people, I feel sort of out of place knowing I'm like an enemy invading their territory. I scratch the back of my head looking up at the large screens on the outside of the venue, the trio all displayed with their names and their group's title in front of them. The place is huge, and even as they start filing us in after an hour and a half of waiting it still feels crowded; I get my foot stepped on her bumped into more than once, and I hold my phone and wallet tightly in my jacket pockets not knowing who might try to take them.

"Okay, (F/n), what do you want?" (C/n) asks me once we reach the stands to buy merch and I look at everything provided. All in all, I really don't know what to get, but shrugging I figure a t-shirt won't hurt. Telling the woman behind the table she nods, takes my money, then grabs the one I want and hands it to me. "That's all you want?" my cousin asks, to which I nod.

"Well I gotta save room for the DYNAMITE stuff you promised me," I remind her with a 'sweet' smile, and she averts her eyes, mumbling while pouting her lips something like,"Psh, lame..." before getting everything she wants (which I get stuck helping her hold, how does she have this much money?!) then we leave to go find our seats.

The place is packed, again I feel way out of place here, and even as they start doing a countdown the boys coming out I stay quiet while the stadium fills with thousands of voices counting down. (C/n) and I aren't too far from the stage, hell we're in the third row in the front of it! I wonder how much she paid for these... Suddenly everyone stands and starts screaming so I jump to my feet and look up to watch as one by one the boys come running out. First is Izuku, waving his hands and holding the big, sweet grin everyone adores; next to come out is Iida, also waving his hand, who comes across as the middle man of the group, a bright personality but still fairly level headed and bookish; last is Shouto walking out smiling, who I've always thought was the best looking of the trio. He's won a lot of fans over with his more reserved, blunt attitude, a lot considering him so mature for his age. They're all dressed in outfits that, while different, still go together with Izuku in a green shirt with no sleeves, Iida in a long sleeved white shirt, and Shouto in a black hoodie over a blue shirt, all wearing black jeans and different types of sneakers.

"Hey everybody, how're you all doing tonight?!" Izuku exclaims, the fans cheering in excitement.

"Are you all ready?" Iida follows, the crowd somehow getting even louder and I cover my ears as Shouto adds,"I can't hear you, are you guys ready?" while pointing out to the crowd. I keep my ears covered over the piercing cries and I watch as the boys all shout,"Let's go!!"

The concert starts, and while it's not the one I would normally want to go to the boys are pretty good! Their moves and voices in sync, I clap after every song and even sing along a bit when they do one I like or have heard over a dozen times thanks to (C/n) or my friends. The one I'm most mesmerized by is Shouto, his melodic voice enrapturing me as well as the smoothness of his dance moves, my eyes hardly leave him for more than a few moments when one of the other two is singing or taking center stage. If I was as big into this group as everyone else here I'm sure I'd be one of his thousands of fan-girls.

As it seems to get closer to the end I say to (C/n),"Hey I'll be back, I'm going to go look for a bathroom!"

Managing to squirm my way out of the masses of people I'm almost to the exit when suddenly people start rushing down the aisles as the boy's come down to the front rows to give hugs and high five or touch the hands of the fans, a barrier and the 'guards' being set up around the ground floor rows so the people in seats higher up can't come pouring down to crowd the trio more than they already are. I start getting pushed around, squished, but I push on until I find an exit and I rush out of it. It's not like the other exit doors, and I see a few doors lining the wall. When I walk further down I start to get confused, mumbling,"Uh... Where did I..." I don't see anyone, the stage crews and security all out making sure the boys aren't getting mobbed, and I freeze when I reach stairs to my right... leading up to the stage. My eyes widen, and I'm about to turn around and run out when the music ends and the boys are back on saying their thank yous.

"We're so lucky to have fans like you! Seeing all your faces here tonight..."

"... it makes us feel fantastic! If it weren't for all of you..."

".... We wouldn't be here, so..."

"Thank you everyone!" They call out in unison, waving as screams erupt in the large room. I jolt when hearing someone coming and looking around I quickly duck into the nearest room. It looks like a dressing room... "Oh no..." I don't have time to dwell on that as I shut the door just as I hear the boys exiting the stage and I run to the couch against the opposite wall. Hopping behind it I hide and cover my mouth, waiting. I can hear my heart beating in my ears so loudly, which makes it difficult to hear if anyone is coming. When the door opens the noisy organ jumps into my throat and I hope I wasn't noticed slipping in. If I'm caught I have no idea what they'll do, and I also have no idea how to get out of here!! The person steps in and shuts the door; it's silent for a moment, and I almost wonder what he's doing.

"I know someone else is in here, come out before I get security."

'Oh hell no, is that...?!' I think immediately, gulping. Do I get out or risk him going to get security?? Is that really Shouto?! Did he see me??! When I don't come out, being too lost in my panic to think straight, he sighs and I hear his feet shift as he adds,"Fine, have it your way."

"W-Wait!" I exclaim, popping up from my hiding spot holding out my hand with a frantic expression. "Please, I swear I wasn't trying to sneak into any of your rooms!!"

He looks surprised at first, like he wasn't expecting me to just show myself, before he grows immediately suspicious while looking ready to run out the moment I even move. "Then what were you doing here? How did you even get past security?"

I scratch the back of my head and can't seem to find the words. Being in the presence of one of the biggest idol stars in Japan right now, it's a weird feeling, like I feel smaller than normal while also a bit anxious. Although that's mostly from being caught unintentionally sneaking into his dressing room. But I can see now is not the time to hesitate so holding up my hands to show I'm not holding a weapon or anything I reply,"Uh, well, you see, there wasn't anyone in the hall, I think they all either went elsewhere or were keeping you guys safe when you left the stage. B-But again, it wasn't my intention at all to sneak in here, I was only looking for a bathroom but the crowds basically forced me through the door leading here! I mean you can frisk me right now, I don't even have my phone on me!!"

His eyes narrow as he watches me, probably looking for any sign I'm lying, but fortunately he seems to loosen the stiffness of his body a bit as he says,"... Alright, I'll believe you." Letting out a sigh of relief I didn't realize I was holding I climb over the couch and I get a better look at him; He looks pretty exhausted, which I'm not surprised by, but his eyes don't look at bright like they normally do in pictures and interviews. I don't think much of it, maybe he's just really tired from the concert, but I do still feel bad for him. He's still watching me, and smiling at him I try to be as friendly as I can.

"Sorry again about this, I'm sure you were pretty startled! Ummm... Oh, here, do you have a pen?" When he provides me with one I ask for his hand and I write down an address on the back of it, Shouto looking puzzled. "As repayment for giving you a scare that's the address of my family's restaurant. The place isn't very well known and small, but the food is 5 stars! If you and your group ever want a good meal come over and I'll treat you guys!... Even though I'm sure this is nothing for you guys, huh?" I nearly forget I'm still holding his hand and letting go my face heats up with embarrassment and I take a step back, scratching my cheek. "A-Anyways, uh... Can you help me sneak outta here? I don't really want to get busted and arrested..."

He's quiet for a minute staring at his hand before he meets my eyes with his own heterochromia and nods. "Sure, let me look before we go out," he tells me, stepping past me and opening the door to see if anyone is outside. I sneak up behind him and peek out too, able to see a few people out there talking; one or two look like stage hands and security, while the other 3 are a chubby, sweet looking woman who looks quite a bit like Izuku, a rather muscled blonde man whose hair is slicked back, a man with black hair who looks a bit like Iida, and another muscled man with short, messy red hair and a beard and mustache. Shutting it he runs his hand through his red and white locks and faces me, saying,"Unfortunately, I think they're discussing some things with our managers so we'll have to wait until they leave."

"Well... what about you go and distract them while I sneak out like a ninja?" I ask, somewhat joking although he cocks a brow. "Sorry, um, so what about that?"

"I could try but they'll most likely only tell me to get some rest and brush me off," he admits, turning and walking over to his couch while slipping his jacket off. I rub my neck trying to think of something else but nothing comes to mind and I follow him, plopping down next to him. "They should only be there a few minutes."

"Well then I hope you don't mind me sticking around until they leave," I say, smiling at him although awkwardness immediately settles around us. For a few moments I chew my lip trying to come up with some way to break the ice, and turning to face him I see he's on his phone. He doesn't seem too stiff like me, I'm sure he's realized by now I'm not a threat although I'm pretty sure he's not thrilled having a stranger in his room when he's supposed to be changing and relaxing, I'm guessing. So to make it at least a smidge less awkward I say,"So, uh, my name is (F/n) (L/n), although it's a really weird situation it's nice to meet you."

He looks at me before nodding, locking his phone and replying,"You too, I'm actually pretty glad it wasn't someone trying to steal my things or take my picture again. That's happened way too many times to count." He shakes his head, before asking,"You seem pretty calm, though. Have you done this before?"

"Me? No, no this is my first time even being in the same room as someone famous. I guess..." I hum, trying to think about why I'm not freaking out over sitting next to a celebrity. Even though inwardly I'm still a little shocked by all of this. "I guess it's cause you seem pretty normal to me? Like you're a big idol, you've got millions of fans worldwide, I won't lie I am kinda starstruck, but I can tell you're a regular guy under all that spotlight." I go pink after saying this and I laugh, adding,"That was cheesy, huh?"

He stares at me before turning his head away and giving a soft, tired looking smile as he says,"No, it's the first time I've heard something like that, thank you." He turns his head to look at me again, the smile gone but he adds,"You seem pretty nice, (L/n)-san."

"Really? Thanks, I'm glad you think so," I grin, resting my chin on my palms and deciding to continue the conversation we start chatting, asking each other different questions like our hobbies or silly stuff like that. I decide to ask,"So, how is showbiz like?" and I catch the way his face falls and he looks away, me now regretting asking since it seems personal.

While he doesn't outright say it, I can tell he's not keen on talking about it, his words sounding like they hide bitterness underneath as he explains,"It's... Fine. It seems glamorous on the outside, but it isn't all like that. While having so many fans and making so many friends of big names is nice sometimes it feels a little lonely, that and all the lessons and the little rest some of us get wears us out when we have big shows like this." I feel sympathy for him hearing this; it sounds like he's been through or seen the darker side of the red carpet life, and now I wonder if that's why his eyes look a little lifeless. "Sometimes some of us just want to run away from it..."

I watch him stare at the floor after mumbling this, sounding like he was talking to himself there.

"So, why don't you?" I ask. It seems to catch him off guard and he looks back up at me surprised.

"What...?"

I shrug and cross one of my leg over the other as I sit back, continuing,"Why don't you try to leave, or at least go on a break for a bit to get yourself in order? If you're an adult, even if you're on a contract, if you're wiped out you need to take some time for yourself. Granted I don't live in your world so I'm pretty sure it's not that easy, but maybe you or whoever is to that point, you just need to think of your own needs for a change."

He stares at me speechless, eyes wide and his lips slightly parted. I'm guessing he's never been told that before. Noticing it's been at least 10 minutes it feels like, I stand and walk over to the door, peeking out and telling him in a whisper,"Oh, they're gone! C'mon, my cousin is probably waiting." He seems lost in thought so I walk over and poke his forehead, his heterochromia orbs blinking as he focuses on me. "You said you'd help me out, remember?"

"Oh, right," he says, standing and following me to the door. He steps out, nobody luckily nearby or looking as he hurries me out. We take another way out where no one can see us, and it leads outside. Taking in the fresh air once out the door I face him, the night air causing a chill throughout my body as I hope my cousin didn't forget my jacket, phone, and t-shirt.

"Thanks Shouto, and again, sorry for all that but it was nice meeting you," I say, getting ready to leave but I freeze when he grabs my hand. Looking at him I'm confused, seeing he has something on his mind.

"Did you really mean what you said earlier, about doing what's better for yourself? Even if it means leaving?" He asks, leaving me more puzzled since he still seems stuck on this. He can't really be thinking about running away right?

"Y-Yeah, I meant it all," I reply, tilting my head. I slip my hand out of his grip and start to walk away, calling back,"You should probably get inside before someone sees you, and remember to come visit the restaurant sometime!" With that I hurry and run off to find (C/n), glancing back to find he's gone back inside.

[X][X][X]

I thought that was going to be the only encounter with the idol, so if you told me I'd run into him again a few hours later when he shows up at my family's restaurant as they're closing up looking for me I wouldn't believe you. Getting a call as I'm laying on my couch watching TV I'm confused about why my mom is calling me this late and answering I ask,"Hello? What is it mom?"

"(F/n), sorry if I woke you up, but there's a young man here looking for you. He said he's your friend, I think his name was Shou... Shouta... Something like that," she tells me. I sit up right away, wide eyed and my phone nearly falling out of my hand. What the hell- I meant to visit when it's in the day time, when I'm actually there! But it sounds like it's just him...?

"Mom, I'll be there soon," I say as I quickly get my shoes and jacket on and grab my keys as well as my wallet. Hanging up and essential items in my pockets I hurry out of my apartment.

Getting there by taxi I rush in and look to find my mom talking to someone, who I can only guess is Shouto. He's wearing the hood of his jacket up, a beanie to hide his hair, and sunglasses. A bag rests on the floor beside him and when my mom looks at me he does too, my expression one of confusion and shock as he stands and takes off his sunglasses; he meets my eyes and lifting his bag onto his shoulder he walks up to me and says,"I know this is strange, but... I felt like you could help me."

"... Huh?"

"I took your advice, and I ran away."

".... Huh?!"

(AN: THAT WAS SO MUCH TO WRITE. And it wasn't even supposed to be this long, I just couldn't stop writing... (〃￣ω￣〃)ゞ

Sorry about how long it is, later chapters won't be over 10 pages... Unless you guys prefer that?? But I hope you guys enjoy it, I'm going to try to regularly update it every few days or once a week, I guess the more response it gets the sooner the updates?

Also I am looking for ideas for future chapters, since I'm planning some chapters dedicated to cute moments between (F/n) and Shouto along with the main story so if you have any ideas feel free to leave them in the comments! Hope you like it, let me know if you did?)

#bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha shouto #shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x y/n #mha x reader #mha fanfiction #idol au #no quirks au #idol shouto #idol midoriya #idol iida

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highqueenofelfhame · 4 years

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THRONE OF GLASS LIVEBLOG!

So i’m already on chapter like seven so this is a round up of those chapters and my thoughts/fav bits and pieces and things I’m highlighting and tabbing in my book so you guys can get a feel for the things that I like to notate. I am reading from a US edition hardcover copy so I will leave page numbers as well for reference for you noodles.

Just for funsies so you know what my colorcoding is, I’ll update this like as I need to highlight other characters. I highlight foreshadowing and stuff of that nature in Purple. Aelin is in yellow (gold nightgown). Dorian is blue. Chaol is currently nothing because nothing he’s said has appealed to me enough to highlight him. I’m saving the color green for Rowan. I also use tabs accordingly so that i know where I’ve highlighted things.

This has literally just turned into a mess of a commentary that nobody asked for and nobody is going to read because it’s long as fuck but if you’d like to hang with me while I blab about this book, please leave your comments and opinions and stuff below! I’d love to know your thoughts and properly discuss the books with you and even if you want to hope into my DMs or ask and chat there I’m up for that as well!

@emdythewriter you asked for it so i’m tagging you. If anyone wants to be tagged in updates let me know I guess???? I think i’ll try to update every handle full of chapters.

For some reason I often forget just how sassy and "I don’t give a fuck" Celaena has been since the very first page. I don’t know why, because it’s something that I love about her so much but I genuinely find myself laughing out loud with just how witty and sassy she is. It’s incredible. Also her bloodthirst is just...so good.

In true me fashion, the first thing that I highlighted was Celaena fantasizing about killing Chaol on page 3: "Oh, it’d be nice to see his blood spill across the marble." This is just good Celaena content, I can’t help myself.

The next few things I highlighted are from page 10/11. "To attempt to flee is suicide." (pg 10) "You knew it was suicide." (pg 11) "I never intended to escape." (pg 11) All of this is pretty dark, but I think that it’s something important to note. That all through the first three books Celaena is struggling with severe, severe depression and suicidal thoughts. Her attempted escape was an attempted suicide and I feel like that doesn’t hit that hard with a lot of people despite how many times it’s said. I feel like her mental health here is integral to her character growth from the first three books. Even in the Assassin’s Blade, she is depressed, suffering PTSD in my opinion, and just downright struggling. She uses her swaggering personality to cover a lot of it up like a lot of people with depression do. I know that outwardly to people I don’t know well, I pretend to be much more confident than I am in reality. It’s a coping mechanism and I feel important to note about her character. "I wasn’t going to kill him, you buffoon." (pg 12)This just makes me laugh. No other reason. It’s one of my favorite lines from the first book and I love writing her calling people a buffoon.

"Our beloved king finds you lacking?" (pg 15) JUST GETS ME MAN. Anytime she comes for Chaol you all know that I’m t h r i v i n g.

"Yes, she would go -- to Rifthold, to anywhere, even through the Gates of the Wyrd and into Hell itself, if it meant freedom." (pg 19)This is something I noticed on a reread a few months back but Sarah was really planting those seeds early on and I just, I love it. It was really good planning and plotting to leave that in the very first book of the series and I feel like it goes to show how much Sarah actually planned this out while writing.

The next thing I marked was some sass from Dorian because I just love Dorian. I feel like he’s the one character that doesn’t like fuck up and he really just tries his best and gets shit on. He’s a cinnamon roll baby, he IS baby, and I will protect him with my life. "”Then I apologize, my lady! How terrible it must be to condescend to answer! Next time, I’ll try to think of something more stimulating to say." (pg 23) This was in response to Celaena only using nonverbal communication and telling him his questions didn’t respond an answer.

More foreshadowing in a sense, and Celaena speaking of her hertiage without anyone (including the reader the first time round!) knowing: "”King Brannon was Fae, and Oakwald is still his. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the trees remember him." (pg 30.) I also highlighted "”Before Adarlan began its conquest, this forest was cloaked in magic." Just because y’know, in a lot of ways even here, it was. On page 32 along with this thought, I marked "”Small white flowers lay at the foot of her cot, and many infant-sized footprints led in and out of the tent." The forest and little folk remember Brannon, and they remember Aelin Ashryver Galathynius. They remember Terrasen. And I just love all these little seeds like this that get planted that aren’t just a one off thing. I love when the little folk dip in and out.

I think about some of the initial conversations that she has with Chaol quite a bit because it all goes into reasons that I just don’t like him. Like, yes she is a criminal but she’s also really young and has endured impossible things and he’s just so judgemental of her and her character straight from the get-go and it just always rubbed me the wrong way. On page 36, she tells him "”But the overseers had been instructed to treat me with extra care, and took the liberty of rubbing salt into my wounds - salt that I mined - and whipped me often enough so that some of the gashes never really closed. It was through the kindness of a few prisoners from Eyllwe that my wounds didn’t become infected. Every night, one of them stayed up the hours it took to clean my back." She tells him this and he still makes several comments that just super piss me off later on that we’ll get to and that I’ll definitely be marking just for the sake of being able to locate it anytime someone wants to argue with me about his character lmao.

More foreshadowing that I love on page 37: "Magic was dead, the Fae were banished or executed, and she would never again have anything to do with the rise and fall of kingdoms. She wasn’t fated for anything. Not anymore." Like HELLO major foreshadowing that is pretty obvious now that I’m reading but at the time I didn’t take into account what that meant. At this point all we know is that she’s a notorious assassin so it should have raised flags in my head the first time that I read the book that she was something bigger.

"Still, the image haunted his dreams throughout the night: a lovely girl gazing at the stars, and the stars who gazed back." (Page 38) Like this just straight out shows you the kind of person Dorian is because he is asking Celaena to be his champion assassin but he still sees her as a person. He sees her as more than just a criminal where everyone else kind of treats her like she’s a feral animal almost. It takes Chaol ages before he really treats her like a human being but Dorian did from the very beginning and I just... it shows so much about his character, y’all. So much.

#throne of glass #aelin ashryver galathynius #celaena sardothien #sjm #sarah j maas #is this how you live blog? like this is really just commentary nobody asked for #nobody is going to read this lmao #reread #read along #readalong #tog #dorian havilliard #chaol westfall

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x-ximenas · 4 years

Text

Love Means Trouble: Chapter 1

Prompt: Hurricane by Halsey, which you can find in this playlist.

Pairing: OC/Nikki Sixx

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of drug consumption and my terrible grammar and punctuation remember English’s not my first language.

Word Count: 3,078 words

A/N: I know Nikki’s birthday was yesterday, but I was too busy with school so I just managed to find some time to finish this and post this. Also, if you liked this bit, I’d love to hear some comments! If you’d like to be added to a taglist for upcoming parts comment, dm me, ask me… just communicate with me!

// Prologue // Next Chapter //

———————————————————————————————————–

After Mötley Crue's set ended and Y&T's started, Tommy was incapable of stopping himself from talking about his amazing best friend and how she was in their show that night, his mouth kept running on and on, as he looked at Vince with complete excitement hoping that the blond could do something to support his argument, yet Vince came empty-handed, it's not like he doesn't like the brunette, but he had no arguments that could aid Tommy's. On the other hand, Nikki and Mick were only half listening to Tommy's endless rambling, but they nodded along on the right bits, hoping that would make the young drummer feel as if he was actively being listened to.

Unfortunately, Tommy's enthusiasm was cut short when he was faced with the cold reality of no-Circe. The tall man huffed out in slight annoyance and disappointment, he was really hoping for the band to meet her, he always found a way to bring her up in conversations, commenting something along the lines of: "she knows about music, she can give us honest opinions", " she knows people, maybe she can help us with getting a bigger gig", "I wonder what Circe might think of this song... I bet she'd have some badass thing to say"; between other things. This much rambling showed how much he truly appreciated her and loved her, after all, they grew up being next-door neighbours, they attended the same schools, she taught him so much and she was actually the reason why he managed to find himself in Suite 19... she was like a sister to him, a weird, rebellious but lovely sister.

What happened the night of the Starwood Hotel seemed to repeat constantly, an event so regular that could be summed up in 4 easy steps:

Step 1. Circe shows up at Mötley’s gig, stays all the way through, bobs her head along to their original songs and she notes their interesting takes on some covers.

Step 2. Two songs before their set ended she’d ask for a napkin and a pen, preparing herself to write a small but encouraging note and before any of them could catch her, she left. The only proof connecting her to actually being there that night was said note.

Step 3. Simultaneous to step 2, the band is forced to go meet Tommy's best friend, why hasn't he thought of taking her to one of the band's practice days instead of dragging them through sweaty masses of people, no one really knows.

Step 4. After the band is faced with the note mentioned in step 2. Feelings seem to loop: The spark on Tommy's eyes dim, though, the spark was easy to return when he remembered he could just go pester her at her place the morning after, not like she minded, right? Vince and Mick seemed a little bit too uninterested on bumping into her, being that Vince knew what was sure to come, he'd get teased and turned down by the girl, he still thinks he'll get her one day -he won't-; and Mick wasn’t looking forward on meeting the drummer’s friend, thinking he might have to deal with another child-person and his patience was running short, he could only handle one at a time, and barely. Nikki, on the other hand, was indifferent in meeting Tommy’s friend, but what motivated him to keep up with Tommy's excitement was his desire to look for the tattooed girl with the unruly black hair, poor guy, didn’t know Circe was both the tattooed girl and Tommy’s friend.

Tonight they were playing the Whisky a Go Go, and despite it not being their first time playing there, Nikki looked more uneasy than usual, considering that he was almost decided on catching the girl with the tattoos before she left even if that meant looking for her before the show started. And so that’s what he did.

He was on edge and slightly anxious, something so out of character, but his interest was picked, maybe it was her looks or the fact that she never seemed to want to hang out with the band afterwards, she must be a groupie, right? I mean, she’s been to all of our gigs, that must mean something.

As usual, Circe got to the place mildly early, settling in her favourite place, the bar. She knew that sitting there was a great way to get fast drinks, something that sometimes she desperately needed; she also knew that if she wanted to bump shoulders with people this was the place to be, considering that people had to walk there to get themselves a drink, it was the perfect place to search for that night's victim. Tonight was no different, she knew that getting there early made it so much easier to catch her among the people that frequented the Whisky, she realised that arriving early made it easier for people to get drunker quicker and more confident to chat her up. Usually, no one ever wanted to strike a conversation with her when sober, most people needed to have a little bit more booze in their system to try and do such thing, and it was still pretty damn early for Sunset Strip; so imagine her surprise when she heard someone clearing their throat and leaning on the bar, their gaze clearly on her.

She turned around, a brow highly arched in inquiry, “yes?” She said, never dropping her characteristic attitude, even though she knew who was standing in front of her she wasn't up for giving her sass up.

Her knowledge of him was scarce, but she never managed to get Tommy to shut up about him, even before he actually met him, his love for Nikki and his band London was practically endless. And that love grew bigger after meeting him when he auditioned for Suite 19, I think we can all imagine how much he adores him now that they play together.

“Dude, he’s just so good! And so badass, last time he broke someone’s nose” “He’s such a cool dude, you would love him, Ce!”

Fuck, she could practically hear Tommy’s excitement in her head, even when he wasn't around she never managed to get some down-time from their conversations.

“Hey, I’m Nikki, Nikki Sixx I play bass in Mötley Crüe” he said with a confident smirk, his eyes ran up and down her body, stopping to examine her sleeve and her breasts.

“Cool” she said with a tight smile, turning back around to grab her drink, hoping he could just leave.

“Babe, I was wondering if you’d like to come to this party at my apartment after the show, I can introduce you to the rest of the band if you’d like, get you a drink, you mark the beat, babe…” He continued sounding confident or trying to at least after being considerably thrown off by her uninterested attitude towards him.

“Sounds nice, but I don’t drink, -clearly sarcasm, note the vodka in her hands- and you’re going to have to try harder than that, babe” she snarled back, mocking the "pet name" he decided to use on her. She had a nasty smirk adorning her maroon lips and a hint of mean in her dark eyes, if this dude thinks this is going to be this easy then he’s noticeably wrong, he doesn’t even want to know my name, jerk.

Don’t get Circe wrong, she did find Nikki attractive, but she has met guys like him before, they don’t care to call, they just want a nice lay, and she was so much more than a nice lay; maybe it wasn’t related as much to the they-won’t-call thing, no, it was mostly about the power that held saying an irony-infused no and having them try again, man did she love playing cat and mouse and right now she was the cat.

Nikki was about to answer her, but he was cut off by Vince nearly physically dragging him away from the brunette, muttering an apology to Circe before turning to Nikki and saying something along the lines we’re about to start, not caring to acknowledge the fact that Nikki was hitting on Circe.

Tonight’s set was really good. As usual, Circe found herself bobbing along with the beat of each and every one of their songs, they really were getting better. As they neared the end of the set she turned towards the bartender asking for a napkin and a pen, she was getting ready to write the band a note so she could leave the place calmly. Taking off the cap of the pen with her teeth she quickly came up with a nice thing to tell Tommy:

“Such a fucking proud mama, Tommy.... every time I see you, you seem to get even fucking better, keep up the good work, can’t wait till you have your first album out. Love, Circe.”

She turned to the bartender with a sweet smile, she pushed the napkin towards him, she didn’t even have to tell him anything, he already knew what was up, he knew Circe pretty well.

You see, this was her scene, music and alcohol were two of her favourite things so she was practically a premier client at the Whisky a Go Go and other places like the Starwood Hotel; meaning, the people who worked there knew her pretty well, hence why she got away with a lot of things, like not paying sometimes and returning the next morning to pay, or decking people on the face, etcetera etcetera.

Jumping off the stool she started walking quickly towards the entrance, already placing a cigarette between her lips. She ached for fresh air and she wanted to get away from the guys before they caught her inside, that would fuck her plans up. What she wasn’t accounting for was that Nikki rushed the guys to go outside search Tommy’s friend almost as soon as they got off the stage, he didn’t give a single fuck about Tommy’s friend but he’ll be damned if Circe kept the last word.

As soon as the guys reached the bar and the bartender handed Tommy the note he could swear he saw Circe walking out of the place, so with a quick mumble of an apology, he left the note on Vince’s hand and headed Circe’s way.

“Ce!” Screamed the drummer with joy, picking the girl up from her waist. Before she realised it was Tommy she tensed, but after she felt the way his arms wrapped around her and the voice clicked in her head, she was quick to relax.

“Fuck Tommy, you can’t scare me like that” she said after the tall man put her down, a hand over her chest.

“I knew it was the only way to catch you before you left! Don’t you want to go backstage with me and the guys? You can finally meet Mick, you’d like him too, he’s as bitter as you, if not more! Oh, and Nikki, I’m so sure you’ll love him, please come! Oh oh oh oh, and then! You can come to our place for the after-party” He said eagerly, drawing out the o’s in come and the n's in then as if he was a child begging for his mom to let him go to his friend’s party.

“I’d love to Tommy but-” she started, but Tommy wasn’t taking no for an answer, so he started dragging her towards the band, not caring that they were almost halfway out and the cigarette was already lit up.

“Nope, you’re coming with me Circe” he said with a small frown, he had been waiting far too long to introduce Circe to the guys, he wasn't up for any kind of discussion, unless...

“I- I already know Nikki” said Circe in panic, she was relieved to realise that that got Tommy distracted, making him stop in his tracks.

“What? You do? Dude, that’s amazing!” He answered with a huge grin that was quick to fall when he saw the look on Circe’s face, he knew that look pretty well, “oh no no no no Circe, you can’t do that with him.”

“As a matter of fact, I can, and he started it, not me!” Circe defended herself, crossing her arms over her chest, “I’m just playing along! And he doesn’t know who I am! Let me play with him, just for a bit, I promise this time won’t be as bad as others.”

Tommy huffed, he already knew that there was no way to make her change her mind, so he answered with a: “fine, I guess.”

“Oh, you’re amazing Tommy, I swear this is going to be better than last time, pinky promise, this won’t fuck up your friendship” Circe said with a grin, extending her pinky and looking up at Tommy with puppy eyes. With a small roll of his eyes, he intertwined his pinky with hers, he tried to hide his smile, but damn was it hard, he adored Circe but she was too crazy sometimes, the only thing that kept him optimist was that he trusted that they were going to be good for one another.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say Ce, you can leave, tho that won’t stop me from dropping by your apartment tomorrow morning!” he shouted over the crowd at Circe.

“I know sweetheart!” she shouted back, waving a hand as she strutted away, finally taking a puff out of her cigarette.

Tommy strutted back to the guys with a satisfied smile, although he didn’t particularly enjoy Circe’s little games, he was beyond delighted of “bumping” into her before she left.

“Why the smile, drummer?” Asked Mick with an almost teasing tone.

“Just bumped into Circe, she apologizes for not hanging out with us, says Vince’s a pain in her ass” Tommy answered smoothly, making something up rather quickly, Circe might’ve not said anything but hell did he know her well, she probably thought of it.

“Isn’t he a pain in all of our asses?” Mocked Mick, earning an eye roll from Vince, “I like this girl already” he continued in a lower voice.

Nikki snorted out a small laugh and a smirk appeared on his lips to go with it, though the latter was quick to fall when he remembered his mission, find tattoo-girl and be the one to have the last word. So with a fast and unappealing apology, he headed towards the entrance, not expecting to actually find Circe not far from where he stood, a cigarette carefully dangling between her lips as she looked at the people passing by, clearly checking some out and judging others.

"I thought I wouldn't find you so easily" he said, slightly startling her, something he took notice by the way she flinched and her hand discreetly moved to her chest.

"Fuck, what's with people scaring me today," she muttered to herself, her hand going up to her cigarette, taking in a breath before actually directing her speech to Nikki. "Well, I thought you wouldn't even look for me in the first place, too many groupies inside the Whisky that actually want to throw themselves at you, why come looking for me?"

"Cause you're not throwing yourself at me like other groupies... And I'm intrigued as to why you seem to come to every show yet you only come to the gig, never seen you at parties," he quickly answered, placing a cigarette of his own between his lips, Circe almost instinctively walked up to him, getting close enough to light up his cigarette with the burning end of her own.

"I'm not interested in your parties... and I'm no groupie, babe" she answered venomously.

Circe looked up at Nikki, her eyes were challenging, and she could already tell that she got him wrapped up in her little finger, she just had to figure out how long she wanted to play out this whole thing.

She removed her cigarette from her lips dropping it to the floor, letting it smoke for a bit before putting it out with the sole of her boot; then as if the director had yelled "action" she got closer to him, slow and teasing. She could tell how the tension appeared to rise as she got closer to him, now, she could finally make out some distinctive features, from the dark eyebrows to the olive coloured eyes that darkened quickly, though she couldn't tell if that was from lust or the cocaine he probably snorted earlier that night. Then, she grabbed Nikki's cigarette between her fingers as to make some space for herself, making her nose bump against his, she was testing the waters, she was willing to see how much he could take her teasing. She parted her lips as if to get acquainted with his lips, but instead, she took a puff out of the cigarette; Nikki's eyes travelled to her round lips, as the smoke slowly escaped from the gap left between them, he was willing to kiss her, to take her to the back alley and teach her to behave, but he too was enjoying the game.

"Doll, are we leaving?" A voice suddenly broke the tension, Nikki's expression contorted from lust and confidence to confusion as his eyes shifted between the man standing behind Circe and Circe herself.

"Yes, just let me say goodbye to my friend over here" she answered, her eyes never leaving Nikki's face, she was having so much fun already and this man couldn't have arrived at a better moment.

"Okay, I'll go for my car and I'll pick you up here, don't move" he ordered, but Circe paid no mind, she only responded with a hum.

Nikki's attitude took a 180° turn, it went to teasing to plain up confused and Circe was loving it. Nikki, slightly pissed off and defeated turned around not wanting to give any more attention to the tattooed brunette. But he couldn't get more than a few steps before Circe pulled him by the wrist, forcing him to turn around to meet her wild gaze, he could tell she was having fun.

Circe's hand travelled up his arm, finally finding its resting place on the side of his neck by his jaw, and like that she pushed her body closer to him than before, placing her lips right by his ear as she said:

"Goodbye, love..."

// Next Chapter //

13 notes · View notes

lostinshawnsmemory · 5 years

Text

Figure You Out: Chapter 3 - Shawn x African OC

A/N: This chapter is very music heavy. I’m also introducing a lot of songs that aren’t that well known seeing as they’re afrobeat songs. All the songs used are linked in the fic playlist and while you don’t necessarily have to listen to them, it adds to the story and makes reading some of the lyrics easier as they aren’t in English (there aren’t translations but there is a reason for that) and I would highly recommend it. They’re also just really good songs and if you’re looking for new music I got you.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warning(s): None

MASTERLIST

Series Masterlist

Fic Playlist

University was difficult and it took Tolani a really short amount of time to figure that out. Looking at the course requirements she could tell that the weeks to come were going to be intense, but so far it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. Her coursemates were friendly enough but 2 days of lectures didn’t yield any friendships and she could tell that it wasn’t going to happen so quickly.

One thing she couldn’t tell though was how she felt about Shawn. They’d talked on and off after their coffee date a few days prior, but their relationship, if you could call it that, was not clearly defined. ‘Tolani you’ve known him for five minutes, you don’t need to have clearly defined parameters just yet.’

Seated at the desk staring at some of her required reading that she was pretending to pay attention to, her mind went back to their conversation at the coffee shop and the list of songs that he gave her. She never got round to listening to them and this was as good a time as any even though there was work she should’ve been doing. She opened Spotify, searched for Lost in Japan, put in her earphones and pressed play. The song wasn't what she was expecting, the piano intro felt warm and relaxing and by the time the beat kicked in she had a smile on her face. He sang about a girl who was in a different time zone but she didn’t care about the girl, the thing that made her connect with the song was the beat. It was funky and rhythmic bass had her bopping along to the song. By the time the bridge started, she was already mouthing some of the words. When the song finished she couldn't resist picking up her phone and texting him.

Tolani: Okay sooooooo Lost in Japan is one of the coolest songs I’ve ever heard.

Shawn: Really?

Tolani: No seriously. It’s so cool and funky and I’ve also learnt half the lyrics.

Shawn: That fast? 😮

Tolani: What can I say? I really like the song. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Shawn: What about the other songs?

Tolani: Currently just Lost in Japan, but now I’m insanely curious about the rest.

Shawn: I’m expecting a full break down of each song.

Tolani: I did say I would critique them. 😉

Where Were You in The Morning, was a completely different vibe. It was more of a bluesy R&B track and a lot more in line with what Tolani usually listened to. It wasn’t the type of song she would’ve associated with Shawn, proof that there was more to him than meets the eye. She couldn’t deny that she really liked the song, so much so that she played it again when the song was done.

Tolani: Okay who is she?

Shawn: You listened to Where Were You in the Morning didn’t you? 🤨

Tolani: Yup

Shawn: And you’re not going to stop till you know?

Tolani: Of course not 😉

Shawn: I could deflect and you’ll never know

Tolani: You could, but you won’t

Shawn: How do you know? 🤨

Tolani: Call it a lucky guess.🤷🏾‍♀️

Shawn: I regret telling you to listen to it 🤦‍♂️

Tolani: That’s too bad Mendes

Shawn: You want the truth?

Tolani: Of course I do!!

Shawn: What if I don't’ tell you? 😏

Tolani: Then I’ll keep hounding you.

Shawn: I’ll take any excuse for you to keep talking to me, so it’s a win-win 🤷‍♂️

Tolani: Just so you know, I happen to like talking to you.

Shawn: First of all, thank you. Second of all, it isn’t working.

Tolani: You saw right through that? 🙃

Shawn: I did.

Tolani: So I guess I’ll switch tactics.

Shawn: How so?

Tolani: I’ll never speak to you again.

Shawn: Wooooow brutal 😳

Tolani: Spill Mendes

Shawn: Fine.

Shawn:…..

Tolani: I’m waiting

Shawn: You want an answer? 😏

Tolani: I really do.

Shawn: Honestly? She was a girl I met at a party and she made it seem like she wanted more but apparently not. 🤷‍♂️

Tolani: Not the story I was expecting 😕

Shawn: Kinda underwhelming?

Tolani: A little bit yeah.

Shawn: Well I’m a songwriter, I embellish when needed.

Tolani: Either way I love the song. It’s got the same vibe as Lost in Japan but it’s more R&B-esque.. It’s R&B adjacent!!!

Shawn: That‘s the perfect way to describe it. I’m stealing that 👏

Tolani: You may, although, I require royalties.

Shawn: Done

Tolani: On to the next one. And by the way, I really do like talking to you Shawn. 😊

Shawn: I like talking to you too T ❤️

Memories was completely different from the previous ones. It was an emotional piano ballad that made Tolani tear up more times than she would’ve liked to admit. There was something about that song that stood out from the rest and she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. It was the perfect blend of emotional and powerful.

Tolani: Scratch that Memories is the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard.

Shawn: Why Thank you! 😁

Tolani: How old were you when you wrote that?!

Shawn: 14/15-ish

Tolani: Excuse me while I crumble under the weight of my own talentlessness and have a minor existential crisis. 🤯😭

Shawn: Hahaha. I’m sure you’re not completely talentless. Maybe a little talentless

Tolani: I know I jokingly say I’m going to block you, but this time I really mean it, but on a serious note, this song is perfect and I love it

Shawn: Noted 😊

30 minutes and some messages later, Tolani had listened to all the songs Shawn had listed and she was surprised at how much she liked his music.. ‘He’s incredibly talented.’ she thought as she went to put her phone on the table, but before she could it started vibrating more so than usual. She’d spent the better part of the past few days deleting Instagram comments and DM’s but they just kept coming and they were all the same. Asking her who she was, and how she knew Shawn. It was getting exhausting being bombarded with questions that didn’t warrant a response. Not because she was hiding anything rather that there was nothing to talk about. ‘Shawn and I are friends, or something akin to friends anyway.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Tell that to hundreds of fans in my Instagram comments.’ She knew she should probably say something to Shawn but it wasn’t anything that she couldn’t handle for the time being.

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

Shawn: Are you free tomorrow?

Tolani: Are you asking me out again already? 🤨

Shawn: After our coffee date, I said and I quote “I’ll definitely ask you out again” so this is me asking you out again.

Tolani: One would think that you like me 🤔

Shawn: Maybe I do. 🤷‍♂️😉

Tolani: What’s up…

Shawn: I’m in need of a good DJ

Tolani: First of all, that’s vague. Second of all, what makes you think that’s me?

Shawn: I have a feeling… I also have great intuition (You also said you like music)

Tolani: Your ego never takes a day off 🙄

Shawn: I don’t know what you mean…. I’m incredibly humble 🤭

Tolani: Only twitter thinks that Shawn

Shawn: Ouch that one really hurt my feelings 🙃

Tolani: Sorry about that

Shawn: Apology accepted.

Tolani: Are you going to tell me what’s going on?

Shawn: What if I said it’s a surprise?

Tolani: What if I told you that I hate surprises?

Shawn: I wouldn’t be shocked. Do you like surprises though?

Tolani: I don’t not like them 😝

Shawn: Are you willing to endure this one?

Tolani: Against my better judgement, I am.

Shawn: Great. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 2 o’clock

Tolani: Shawn…

Shawn: Yes T?

Tolani: You don’t know where I live

Shawn: That is true. 🤦‍♂️ What’s your address?

Tolani laughed as she texted him her address. ‘Why is he so easy to talk to.’ she thought as she stared down at her phone, a smile on her face. She got along with Shawn more than anyone she’d met since she’d moved to Toronto and she wasn’t entirely sure why. He was warm and open, something she wasn’t used to. It was like a breath of fresh air. And she welcomed it. Every conversation they’d had either through text or in-person never felt forced, even with a few awkward silences.

The next day as she was getting ready the was a knock at her door, and a few seconds later Desire walked in.

“Hey hun! I haven't seen you in a minute,” she said flopping down on Tolani’s bed. Something that didn't go unnoticed by Tolani who’d made the bed a few minutes prior. “Where have you been?”

“Oh, you know” Tolani waved her hand dismissively “Her, there and everywhere. Mostly going to class and exploring then coming back here.”

“I feel like I haven't even seen you in the dorm.”

“I’ve been around.”

“Anway” Desire said “A couple of us are going to see a movie in a little bit. You wanna come?”

Tolani looked down at her phone, it was 1:45 ‘Shawn is going to be here soon.’ she thought. “Sorry I can’t. I’m heading out.”

“Oh. Where are you going” said excitedly bouncing on the bed, creasing Tolani’s sheets further.

“Just going to get coffee with a friend from my course.” The lie was an easy one, coming out a lot quicker than Tolani would’ve thought. Telling Desire she was going out with Shawn was equivalent to telling everyone, and she definitely wasn’t ready to do that yet.

“Sounds fun! Maybe when you’re done you could meet up with us. We’ll be at the Cineplex on Eglinton Avenue.”

“Will do” Tolani nodded her head, looking at Desire who got up to leave. Then she turned around as looked in the mirror to put the finishing touches on her makeup. As she was putting on her lip gloss her phone vibrated.

Shawn: I’m here.

Tolani: I’ll be out in a second

As she walked outside, she couldn't help but feel nervous. Not unlike how she felt they had coffee, but there was something different about this time. ‘It could be that we’re going to be in a confined space for an extended period of time.’

Shawn was outside her dorm waiting for her. There was no way she could have missed his Jeep. Tolani walked up to the car as he wound down the window.

“Hi T.” he flashed her a smile that she couldn't help but return. ‘Why is his smile so contagious?’

“Hi, Shawn. Nice car.” She quipped leaning against the door placing her forearms on the open window.

“Are you gonna get in?”

“Well, my mum always told me not to get into a stranger’s car” Tolani tapped on her chin pretending to be lost in thought.

“Am I stranger though?” he cocked his head analysing her. “I mean we had coffee a few days ago.”

“You’ve got a good point,” Tolani replied with a chuckle as she opened the door and got into his car.

“So” she implored a few minutes later, turning to look at Shawn whose eyes were trained on the road. “Why exactly did you need me as a DJ? Where are we going?” “Well actually…” He ran his hands through his hair before answering.”We’re not actually going anywhere.”

“Huh?” she furrowed her eyebrows clearly not understanding what he was saying. “I didn’t have a reason for this drive. I just wanted to spend time with you.” Tolani couldn’t help but smile. “You saw me 4 days ago Shawn.” she scoffed rolling her eyes playfully.

“I did. And I wanted to see you again.” turning to face her, his face unreadable. ‘That was incredibly sweet.’ Tolani felt her face warming, so much so that she broke their eye contact and looked away. “How about I give you a really random driving tour of Toronto while you be the DJ?” “Well, what kind of DJ would I be if there was no music.” “I'm trusting you wholeheartedly. You have complete control over what we listen to.” The second he said that a list of her favourite songs popped into her head. “I have the perfect song.” And seeing that she had complete control over what they listened to, she was definitely going to play some afrobeat. After syncing her phone to the sound system is his car she opened Spotify, searched for the songs in question and pressed play.

The sound of drums filled the car followed by heavy bass and Tolani broke out in a huge grin as one of her favourite artists Wizkid started sang about needing love. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Shawn bopping his head along to the song, looking slightly confused by the lyrics. She couldn’t help it and started singing loudly once the second verse started.

‘Toba gboni shakara pade

Pa’shan toh ma fi na eh oh

Oje loun jeh

Kilon se je, shakara olo’je ni’

“Hold on! What did he say? I’m pretty sure that was not English.” Shawn muttered clearly confused

At that, Tolani couldn’t control the giggle that came out of her. “That’s because it isn’t English Shawn. He’s singing in Yoruba.”

“Yuh-ruw-bah?” Much like when they first met, his pronunciation was way off but she mentally gave him points for trying but the giggle soon turned into a full-blown laughing fit. “Yo-ruh-bah.” she enunciated. “It’s one of the languages spoken in Nigeria.”

“I was going to ask about that.”

“There are hundreds of languages spoken in Nigeria and its really annoying when people ask me if I speak Nigerian.” she couldn't help the irritation that crept into her voice. Questions like that usually came from a place of ignorance and while she was more than willing to educate people who didn’t know, there was always an air of disrespect surrounding questions like that.

“And you speak Yoruba?” even though his pronunciation was a little better, she still couldn’t help but cringe a little.

“I do” she nodded her head. “Ever since I was a kid.”

“So you understand what he’s saying.”

“Every single word. Here I’ll translate for you. The song is basically about wanting sweet love and good vibes. That part of the song basically talks about people who show off. ‘Shakara‘ roughly translates to ‘show off’ or someone who brags and the song is basically saying that people who show off kill the good vibe.”

“Got it!” He turned back to the road as Tolani kept singing.

As the song came to a close she turned to him. “What did you think?”

“I loved it! I’ve never heard a song like that before. What’s it called.” his face lit and she could feel her heart swelling with pride it was an amazing feeling when someone connected with something that was important to you

“That my dear, was your introduction to afrobeat. The song is called Sweet Love by an artist called Wizkid. It’s one of my favourites”

“Do you have any more songs like that cause that was easily the coolest song I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re in luck because I do.” she bragged as she picked up her phone.

Seeing as he liked the first song so much, she decided to play something in a similar vein. Jaiye Jaiye and Sweet Love were similar in the sense that you could tell it was made by the same artist but the two songs have different vibes and wildly different lyrics.

‘Wizzy baby loke loke

Seb’Oluwa lo se o

Owo n wole wa

Seb’Oluwa lo se o ah

Lagos today and London tomorrow

Oluwa lo se o

Omo jaiye jaiye

Seb’Oluwa lo se oh ah’

She was singing along and turned to see Shawn looking right at her. “What?” she deadpanned. Suddenly becoming self-conscious. “Nothing.” he turned away smiling to himself. “What does this song mean?”

“Jaiye means to enjoy life and have a great time. The song is basically living your best life and just being thankful for all the blessings in your life. The song is also special because it’s directly influenced by one of, it not the most influential Afrobeat artist ever.”

Shawn absorbed everything she was telling him. And it felt good to talk to someone about some of the songs that she loved and have them listen, even though they might not fully understand everything.

There was no way she was going to play some of her favourite afrobeat songs and not play a single Burna Boy song. A day didn’t go by where she didn’t listen to at least one of his songs and today was no different. Gbona was one of those songs that could change her turn her mood around and she was really excited to play it for Shawn.

‘When the gbedu dey enter body, enter body

All the girl, them go shake body

Them go shake their body.

Oluwa Burna mo gbona feli, say mo Gbona feli

You not get money, you dey call police.

Me I dey laugh you gan ni.’

She could see his brow furrow again as he tried to decipher the lyrics he clearly couldn't understand. “I need you to not focus on the lyrics so much as the song. Focus on the drums and the saxophone and how you feel when you listen to the song. It’s all about the ‘gbedu’, which is a traditional drum which is used in a lot of songs, producing a beat that makes you want to dance.”

“I can’t dance.” he turned to look at her.

“You don’t need to know how to dance per se. It’s more about vibing to the song rather than dancing.”

After she said that, she could see him relax and start to enjoy the song, it started with his head and soon his entire body was moving albeit a little off-beat which made Tolani smile.

The next song she picked was a lot slower and more suited to a drive, but still had the quintessential elements she loved. “This is one is called Damiloun. I love this one cause it reminds me of the drives my dad and I used to take around Lagos on Saturday mornings,” she stated, eyes closed, swaying from side to side in her seat.

“So it’s the perfect song for a drive?”

“That’s why I picked it. It’s a lot more chill and reflective of another genre of music called highlife which is a lot more ‘jazzy’.”

“I’m loving your music choices so far.”

“I had a feeling you would.” she smirked.

Tolani decided to change tactics for the next song and play something that he was more familiar with.

She could see his demeanour change as he started screaming the lyrics to Better Now.

‘You prolly think that you are better now, better now

You only say that 'cause I'm not around, not around

You know I never meant to let you down, let you down

Woulda gave you anything, woulda gave you everything’

Soon enough she joined in and the two spent the next two and a half minutes screaming Post Malone lyrics at the top of their lungs, getting louder with each line practically jumping in their seats. They earned a few looks from other drivers when they stopped at a red light, but they didn’t notice, as they were too wrapped up in the song to care.

“Have you got any requests?” She asked when the song ended.

“Nope. I wasn’t kidding when I said you have complete and utter control over what we listen to.”

SHAWN POV

When Shawn saw Tolani walk out of her dorm, his heart had started beating quicker than normal. The first thing he noticed when she got into his car was the faint smell of honey. She looked like she did when they first met, except this time her braids were in a bun on top of her head. Her demeanour was cool and collected but her eyes showed just how excited he was, and it calmed him knowing that she was just as eager to spend time with him as he was with her.

He’d been incredibly nervous to ask her out again. After her reaction to some of his songs, he really wanted to know what kinds of songs she liked and a situation like this where she picked what they listened to seemed like a good a time as any to pick her brains about her taste in music.

The best way to describe the first song she played was colourful. The way the instruments were used were completely foreign and he’d never heard anything like it. Another thing he wasn’t familiar with were the words. He could barely make out what he was saying and was pretty sure the song wasn’t fully in English. His suspicions were confirmed when Tolani started singing her voice becoming rougher to pronounce the words.‘Yeah that definitely was not English.’ And when she said as much to her, she giggled, dimples out on full display. Soon her giggles turned into a full-blown laughing fit when he got the pronunciation of Yoruba wrong, the second time she’s laughed at his pronunciations.

That was how it was for a lot of the songs she played, he knew that Tolani had barely scratched the surface but he understood what she meant when she’d said Afrobeat wasn’t something you just listened to, it really was something you experienced. He could see that in the way she sang along to each song with hopeless abandon, flawlessly switching from English to Yoruba and back while dancing to each song even though she was in a confined space. His mind went back to when they first met. He’d noticed that she was a good dancer. Regardless of the song, she was always on beat making it clear that music was a very big part of her life.

He didn’t have the same luck. While he felt the urge to dance to each song, he was nowhere near as fluid as she was and she could tell. “I’m going to teach you how to dance.”He was already shaking his head. Dancing was his worst fear and there was no way he was doing it in front of her. “Nope. I’m not dancing. Ever!”

“It’ll be fun!”

“T, there is no way you are getting me to dance.”

She turned to him, head tilted to the side. “Shawn. you cannot tell me this song doesn't make you want to dance.”

“I can’t lie. It does.” he nodded “However I’m a terrible dancer so...” ending the sentence with a shrug.

“You’ve never had me as a teacher though.”

“T I’m sure that I’ll be shit EVEN with you as a teacher.”

“Maybe” she shrugged “but it would be funny though.”

“Yeah,” he said wistfully. “It probably would.”

Tolani named each song and artist as the song started making sure he knew exactly what she was playing. Listening to her explain the meaning behind each song made each one even more special, her voice becoming rougher and her accent becoming for prominent the more she spoke. He was honoured that she wanted to share that meaning with him especially when the songs had such personal and cultural significance.

As ignorant as it sounded he wasn’t expecting such diversity. Each song was similar but different. They ranged from slower tempos perfect for driving to upbeat songs that made him want to scream the lyrics even though he didn't know or understand them.

Tolani didn’t only play Afrobeat, she had one of the most diverse music tastes he’d ever come across. While she played her favourite Drake song, they talked about their shared love of the Canadian rapper and even went as far as belting out Fake Love while at a stoplight.

Shawn couldn’t help but cringe a little as the intro to Lost in Japan started playing but that feeling slowly turned into one of pride when she started singing along word for word. He was shocked at how quickly she’d learnt all the lyrics and couldn’t help but join in smiling as she screamed the bridge. “How did you learn the lyrics so fast?”

“I told you’ she glanced at him “I really like the song.” she winked.

The next song had him scream in excitement, which completely shocked Tolani. “You like Lauryn Hill?” surprise evident in her voice. He nodded his head enthusiastically “I really do and Doo Wop is my favourite song off of Miseducation” She grinned at him. “Me too. Another thing we have in common.” By the time the chorus came round, they were singing at the top of their lungs. She had a beautiful voice and he imagined what it would be like to have her sing to him.

‘Guys you know you’d better watch out

Some girls, some girls are only about

That thing, that thing, that thing,

That thing, that thing, that thing.’

Even though they didn’t talk about much outside music, it felt nice to be in her presence. He was someone who focused on the energy that surrounded people and the best way to describe hers was enigmatic. There was so much more to her than she was letting on which made him want to know more about her, but she was also incredibly thoughtful and very funny.

After two hours of pretty aimless driving Shawn dropped Tolani off outside her dorm but before she opened the door to leave, he turned to her.

“I had a great time.” He smiled “Your taste in music is incredible and Afrobeat might be my new favourite thing.” He saw her eyes light up as the words hit home and he knew how important those words were to her.

“How about this. I’ll make a Spotify playlist of all the songs I played for you and add in a few more?”

“What happened to you not liking me enough to share music with me?”

“Cleary I changed my mind about that.” she smirked and she opened the door and climbed out of the car.

(Credit to @mendes-shawn for the gif)

Taglist

@bugheadfanatic @sean-mendezzzzz @rulerofnocountry @thotmendes @shawnssnack @momenraul @justbeingoceana @tisvanessa @mani-lifes @shawnsvalentine @pinkk-peonies @sinplisticshawn @eve134340 @kyloreins

#Shawn Mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fan fic #Shawn Mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fic #Shawn Mendes x poc #Shawn Mendes fan fiction #sm3 #My writing #shawn mendes x woc

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vroenis · 4 years

Text

The Internet Is Not Remarkable | Which Is Why It’s Remarkable

Oddly I’ve not ever felt the need to unplug. I don’t have a sense of separation between life happening away from the Wire and life happening on the Wire or the Wire not being life. It was never a distinct thing I ever had to decide was or wasn’t life or became life, either. Being born in the early 80′s, I guess means the Wire wasn’t always there as a salient presence, integrated into the fabric of life. Heyo I had a Nokia 3210. That doesn’t mean anything, by the way, it just places me on a timeline. Nostalgia sucks and is literally valueless. Let’s make art you can steal.

Anecdotally it means I saw the internet happen as a Thing. It’s less important than it sounds. Also the internet going from not being a Thing to being in our pockets. OK. But honestly it’s not very important. As in the transition isn’t important. There were a lot of people there when it happened and I think a lot of us if and when we’re honest will tell you now, in retrospect, it’s not a big deal. People older than I am and some my age and younger who have an ignorant and uninformed understanding of life and experience will go on about life being better or significantly more meaningful before or without the Wire but honestly they’re wrong. I’ll come out and say it’s flat better. Sure it makes misinformation easier as much as it makes all the good things better but wow media control and information mass-dissemination before the Wire? Are you kidding me?

On the topic of unplugging and digitally detoxing and I realise The 1975 just made a video all about it that was overly cute, yes, but still pretty fucken’ great. Let’s link it because honestly, it’s a wonderful snapshot of its time that they’re unquestionably aware will date immensely and that is a big part of the point. The 1975 hardly need any more promo but what can I say, I’ve no problem being part of an adoring fanbase and adore them we do. Let us adore.

youtube

That it’s so on-the-nose and that it’s a big part of the point is going to anger and frustrate people so much, moreso that exactly that reaction is a part of being caught-up in the inevitable participation in what the song and indeed, what Matty as an individual and what the band as a commercial and cultural entity are. The too cool thing to do is say you didn’t know anything about it, you didn’t watch it, you don’t care for it, you’re immune to it and continue to be ignorant of it - sure, I used to be cool like you. The thing is I both care less and more about being cool.

I love this song, I love what it’s doing and what it means. I love being a fan of and loving things. I love that other people love things I love. I still love loving things no-one knows about but I always love other people finding and loving my things, even if and when some of them behave badly because as an adult and an individual, I understand that participating in one cultural activity doesn’t mean I’m fully represented as a whole cultural entity.

Coming back to unplugging and that not being necessary for me, it connects to not being overwhelmed by it, which connects again, to the Wire not being separate and distinct from what I see as my experience of life. If the Wire is a mundane aspect of life then it’s unnecessary to disconnect from it. I engage with it as much as I engage with other things, that is to say I’m fascinated by, obsess over, and grow bored with things on it as much as all subjects, objects and activities in life equally. I don’t think this is unique to me at all, I suspect it’s quite common.

As it happens, I got into Instagram in a big way around the same time I got into contemporary board games. Both of these things I’ve almost wholly discarded. Almost, but not quite. I still maintain my Instagram account because I’ve made some valuable and enduring connections on it and as a platform I seem to have nurtured some semblance of an audience for a sprinkling of subjects and visual motifs. As for board games, I’m actually still quite interested in them but there’s so much about them as an industry and culture I actively dislike and have also grown bored of that I’ve consciously disengaged from them.

Facebook as a culture has always been weird to me, I can’t say I’ve ever understood it as a platform. Primarily it seemed to function as a space to connect with people you already know - OK. So then we’re encouraged to engage with one-another on... topics we may or may not already be engaging with either in our physical time together in which case, it’s redundant? Or we post articles we expect others to read which mostly they don’t unless aaaaaah - they’re short, reductive and in simple language and now the exercise is hazardous. The platform then actively co-opts strangers into discussions by facilitating cross-posting intra-sharing articles, which to be frank is about eyes on ads and ad-revenue, here we get to the ultimate objective of Facebook as a platform which I guess is why none of it makes any sense. Engagement at all costs. Of-course Facebook doesn’t care about racist groups and the real violence it precipitates, why on earth would that matter to them? The only thing that matters is capitalist gains. As long as it doesn’t directly cost them and as long as there are no economic consequences for them, they will proceed, and this is pervasive and transparent in the way all actions are facilitated and encouraged on the platform as a utility.

There’s more to discuss about Facebook but you’ve had those discussions before and they’re boring. Facebook is boring. The way people use Facebook is boring. Many of my peers ported to Instagram because as many of them said “It’s like Facebook but just pictures” and something along the lines of “It’s just pure” and there’s a high degree of truth in that. The sense of purity comes from the feeling of positivity in that thumbs becomes hearts - the likes an image gets. Engagement is fairly low-level. People express their endorsement of an image or do nothing at all. Occasionally there’s discussion, predominantly positive and for the most part I’d agree it’s wholesome. You can find toxicity easily enough and all of it is bad, but there are whole spaces on Instagram where you’d be forgiven for thinking it was a platform free of it altogether.

I guess it’s worth mention when I was peak Instagram, I was producing a super lo-fi but passionate board games podcast I recorded with R and we were also running several public and private board games groups around Melbourne. There was a lot of good about that sense of community and some of those people are still in our lives now. Platforms like Instagram are great for celebrating many of those aspects, I’d still say better than Facebook. Instagram is more approachable and simpler for just showing a thing and liking it - the engagement is direct and the commitment level (sign-up, visual clutter, privacy concerns, settings digest etc.) is minimal.

There are some Instagram Stories (read: Snapchat clones) there listed under This Account that briefly go thru the effective mothballing of my account. To have a different discussion here, I know how much and what kind of work it takes to build and maintain and audience on Instagram and it’s not interesting to me any more. It’s boring. I don’t mean to disrespect the audience I have there, all audiences are made up of people. Their behaviour on the platform is indicative of the cultural space that Instagram is, not their respective characters and that’s fine. That I’m bored is indicative of my feelings towards the platform and the culture it fosters, not how I feel about the people themselves. I still really like most of the people I’ve made connections with on Instagram and ping them DMs about beer, Lego and art once in a while. Instagram is about keeping it light - or lite is perhaps more appropriate - and I’m happy to keep my engagement level likewise.

That makes it extremely strange that I chose tumblr as a cultural space for my long-format writing, then, hey. Sure does. I did write about tumblr as a cultural space and honestly I still feel the same way about it - I absolutely love it here. Even tho I don’t engage in tumblr at all in the way the culture here utilises it, oddly I still feel right at home, fitting that one of the titles of the entry is Hiding In Plain Sight.

I don’t effectively have an audience for my writing here, tho, and that certainly is different. There’s a certain buzz missing from seeing a post light up with hearts, but then I think - a post gets a tally of hearts, of likes, so the people around me - my audience - likes an image and/or the accompanying text I’ve written tho that’s unlikely as the ratio of viewers to readers is likely to be extremely low. So if I think about how meaningful the text is to me versus the image, sometimes it’s split down the middle, but often the writing is far more important or at least there’s massive intent for gravitas to the image. Without the text, the image would be pleasant at best, and I realise that’s what people are engaging with and throwing a heart at, and I’m not interesting in doing that. I’m interesting in writing and expressing because I’m doing that anyway. I’m talking to and for myself regardless which I’m very happy to do, so if I’m going to do that, I’m happy to do it on the assumption of no audience and just express freely without restraint on subjects that interest me the most.

I either will or won’t develop that audience, but it will have to be with people who are dedicated enough to read and that might be a thing just yet, but who knows, there may be coming a time when people realise it’s not the Wire they need to unplug from. I’m not spinning up theories because it’s less complicated than that. I still operate a Facebook account. There’s a lot to hate about Facebook but of itself it’s mostly banal. Sure its UI and UX both are horrors that precipitate actual nightmares (unrelated but recent: none worse that iTunes MY GOD WHY WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY) but from a utility perspective it can be useful in the least. I have connections with a handful of people and communities which are useful to me for the moment so until they’re not, I’ll use the platform - but my weekly usage would be measured in minutes, I’m not sure I’d make cumulative hours in seven days.

When I moved away from Twitter and Instagram, I wanted a more considered approach to everything including images. I did once take long walks in Melbourne and photograph things that I found aesthetically interesting and under the circumstances that isn’t possible. I did stop doing that much earlier than Covid19 tho but that’s due to family circumstances alluded to in other posts. I still think if I ever take up photographing things with the same regularity, those images will end up here, simply because if I want to cut in with text, I can with better control. But also because it’s more meaningful if I don’t, and also as an artefact, a html page is something that invites a more static approach to the scrolling endless feeds of Instagram and Facebook. That design is absolutely intentional to promote short engagement and continued dismissal and that’s not something I want to encourage, with mine or anyone else’s art, thoughts, responses and engagement.

I don’t think I’ve addressed how The Internet Is Remarkable, but it’s pervasive in much of what I do on and with the Wire. I think accessibility is one of the most powerful things we do as humans. I’m sure there are folks who are sick of Margaret Mead’s healed femur anecdote or at least people quoting it. I fucking love that quote. I might not like people not fully comprehending it but I sure love what it truly represents. I think something people may be surprised to hear from me is that I will never say that I don’t like people. I really don’t like the quips and memes about hell being other people or I don’t mind going outside, it’s the other people ad infinitum. It’s easy to look at a large representation of behaviour and say “People are stupid” but it’s much more difficult to sit in a room of people you know and tell them they’re stupid. I might find it increasingly difficult to find other adults with which I can engage, on subjects I and they both can and enjoy engaging on, but I both have the willingness to and the optimism that it will and should happen. A part of that is the exercise - the practice of considered expression, of thinking, language and performance. Some of that for me is writing here, some of it is in the musical instruments I play, some of it is in the oral auditory words I speak.

Fucking around is good fun, we don’t always take life too seriously - sure, but we also don’t just fuck around. If that’s all you end up being able to do, there’s so much you end up not doing, not seeing and experiencing. Imagine the only form of expression you have is to tap a heart. That’s not to diminish the power of tapping that heart - mate, smash that shit - did you see that last picture of the beers we bought? DID YOU SEE MY BEERS? Those are some champion fucken’ beers, follow my Instagram.

Look you might need to unplug occasionally or partially or permanently or whatever. This isn’t a sermon, I’m not talking at you, I’m talking to you or rather I’m talking to myself. I’m telling you about myself because like everything I do and typically will always mention, it’s a provocation but also an invitation to talk about yourself. We share with one another to learn about other experiences and grow perspective on our own - you get all of that. That’s why the Wire is a good thing. Accessibility to broader experiences is a good thing.

This mass documentation we’re doing? Even if no-one reads it, even if only a tiny shred of it is shared... do you realise how immense that tiny shred is? Of a billion billion billion terabytes of unread, unseen, unknown data, the tiniest fraction that gets shared between humans is still huge were it to remain hidden and secret - all the wonderful art, the ugly horror, the juvenile silliness, the unending pain and sorrow, the saccharine sweetness, the lilting playfulness, the nonsensical vagary, the bare minimalism, the overbearing eloquence, everything subjective and argued and agreed and ignored.

The internet is an ordinary book of everything made of electricity and you carry a copy of it in your pocket.

I’ll echo similar sentiments to those in the feature on Jeremy Blake. You can be an arsehole, or you be awesome and kind and we can do amazing things together.

#internet #chrono #2020 #nostalgia #nostalgia is pointless #no really nostalgia has no value #steal this art #The 1975 #The 1975 The Birthday Party #NOACF #Facebook #Instagram

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master-sass-blast · 5 years

Text

In Days to Come

*smiles* Y’all are gonna like this one. Consider it... a teaser of what’s coming in the next couple weeks.

No summary because that would seriously give away what this is about, and I want it to be a surprise, but this is a Piotr POV fic for those of you who like it. This is also a happy fic with a happy ending, so there shouldn’t be anything too triggering.

Set after Gatekeeper, with tie ins to Rubber Meets Road and Trust and Ugly Truths.

Rating: T for mentions of abuse, mild angst, adult language, mild sensuality, and an OVERLOAD of fluff.

Pairings: Piotr Rasputin x Reader.

Many, many thanks to the lovely @chromecutie for proofing this for me!

Taglist: @chromecutie, @marvel-is-perfection (send me an ask or dm me if you want to be added to the tag list).

The art studio is one of his favorite places in the mansion. It used to be his absolute favorite place –but that spot is now reserved for the room he shares with you, his little home within a home, just for the two of you.

Piotr closes the door to his studio behind and takes a deep breath. You’re out with friends for the day, which is the only reason he’d secret himself away like this; as much as he loves you, there are some things he doesn’t want you knowing about.

At least, not yet. Soon, but not yet.

He smiles as he sits down at his desk, thoughts still focused on you. Hell, he can remember when he first met you…

“Piotr. Can you come with me for a moment? We’re welcoming a new member to our community; I’d appreciate having you present.”

He falls into stride next to the Professor –no small feat, considering how long his legs are in defense mode. “Are we adding another student?”

The Professor shakes his head. “No. A permanent resident, the niece of one of my old friends. She… she’s coming from a rough background.”

He blanches. He’s spent the past several months working with the orphans from Essex House; he knows all too well what “rough” means.

“From what I understand, she’s recently escaped a very abusive living situation,” Charles explains as they head out to the front of the house. “Given your… less obtrusive personality presence, I thought it would be good to have you help with her integration into the Institute.”

Piotr nods. “I will do what I can. Is her guardian bringing her in?”

“No. She’s bringing herself in –ah, here she comes.”

There isn’t a car pulling up on the driveway; it takes him a minute to figure out that the Professor’s looking up, so he does the same and…

And there you are. Flying in with a small duffel bag strapped to your back, hurtling towards the ground at… an alarming speed, actually.

You let out an “oh shit” about ten feet away from the ground and chuck the bag away from you before careening into the lawn and flopping head over heels across the grass like a cartoon character.

Bozhe moi. Piotr darts towards you –well, as much as he ‘darts’—and reaches out to help you up. “Are you alright?”

You’re already sitting up and dusting yourself off. “Ugh, yeah, I’m fine. It just—” You stop mid-sentence when you look up at him, eyes widening and mouth falling open. “Oh my gosh. Holy shit!” You stumble to your feet, completely oblivious to the hand he’s offering you. “You look so cool!”

Of all the things he was expecting after hearing about your reasons for coming and the rough landing… that hadn’t been on the list.

“Uh… thank you. You, ah—” he gestures towards your head “—you have grass…”

“Oh shit.” You swipe at your hair, which doesn’t do much to improve the situation. “Am I getting it?”

“Nyet –no. Hang on, hold still.” He carefully –carefully—plucks the worst of it from your hair, then wipes his hands against his pants when he’s done. “There.”

“Thanks.” You extend your hand. “I’m Y/N.”

He gently shakes your hand. “I am Colossus. Pleasure to meet you.”

You’re already distracted, studying his hands and skin with unabashed wonder. “Wow.”

Charles speaks up from where he’s been watching everything. “This is your first time seeing another mutant, isn’t it?”

You blink, then let go of his hand and smile a little sheepishly. “Uh, yeah. I was… I was the only one where I grew up.”

Piotr watches something dark flit across your face and feels his heart twist for it. “Well, I think you will find good home here.”

“Yes,” Xavier agrees with a smile. “We’re very glad to have you join us, Y/N.”

“Thanks. I’m glad to be here.” You grab your bag, then take in all the dirt and grass stains on your pants and jackets. “Do you guys have a washing machine I can borrow? And a shower?”

Xavier chuckles. “I think we can get something set up.”

Looking back at it, he wouldn’t say he was smitten from the moment he met you. He was, always has been, drawn to your spirit and energy, though. He’s always admired optimism and joy in the face of pain and suffering. He admires your compassion.

(Which isn’t to say that those who turn to cynicism ought to be condemned, or that everyone should fake being happy despite their pain; he’s always believed in expressing what you feel when you feel it. That being said, after everything you went through, he expected you to be more jaded, more bitter.)

And it certainly didn’t take him long to become smitten with you. He fell and fell hard; even after confessing his feelings to you, it was still unbelievably difficult to take things at a reasonable pace with you. He’d never been one to dive into things headfirst, and he didn’t with you, but after being with you for so long he wanted to have as much of you as he could.

He still does, hence his little ‘secret’ project.

Piotr pauses in counting through his notes to take a moment to reminisce the night the two of you had crossed the threshold from partners to lovers, a smile playing at his lips…

He wakes up to an empty bed.

Normally, that wouldn’t be surprising or alarming; you’re a notorious late night snacker, suffice to say.

However, after the past few days and your nervousness towards having sex…

He’s out of the bed in a rush, still waking up as he walks down the hall of the rental house. The bathroom’s dark and empty, along with the other bedroom, and he can’t hear the TV going or see the glow of the screen from the living area. “Myshka?”

“Yeah?”

He finds you perched on the couch, staring out the window at the bursts of lightning rolling across the sky. He lets out a sigh of relief and leans against the nearest wall. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I just like watching storms.” You hold out a hand to him, grinning.

He doesn’t realize until he’s pulling you into his lap that you’re wearing his shirt; something warm sparks low in his gut, and he kisses the top of your head. “Why are you up? It is middle of night.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you say as you nestle your head against his chest, gaze still focused on the sky. “Decided to chill and watch the storm.”

It’s innocuous enough, save for the fact that he knows you. “You waited until I was asleep.”

You’re quiet for a moment. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just… processing.”

He angles his head back so he can see your face better. “Is what we did earlier alright?”

“Yes,” you say quickly before dazzling him with a –somewhat embarrassed—smile. “I, uh, really liked what we did earlier. All of it.” Your gaze drops to his chest as you start rubbing your thumb against his clavicle. “Did… did you like it?”

Did you like me?

He hears the unspoken question as he leans in to kiss your cheek. “I did.” He follows the line of your cheekbone back to your ear with his lips, gripping at your waist when you shiver against him. “All of it.” He has to hold back an outright growl at the way your body molds against his, and he lifts you up so you’re straddling his hips.

You moan into his mouth as he kisses you, hands gripping his shoulders briefly before sliding down his chest.

He thinks he could just devour you here and now, right on the couch, work you up and down until you’re a gasping, whimpering mess.

It’s an entertaining thought.

And one best left for morning, unfortunately

He sighs into the hollow of your throat before pressing a chaste kiss against your skin. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?” You repeat, voice high and off kilter as you giggle. “For what?”

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Not like that,” he explains as he resettles you in his lap. “You need to rest.”

You huff. “I don’t feel like resting now.”

He catches your hand before it can dip into his pants. “Later. In the morning. You need rest.”

A flash of lightning briefly illuminates the wide-eyed look you’re giving him. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

He kisses your lips briefly, gently. “By all means.”

You sigh, then flop against him. “Asshole. Getting me all wound up, then telling me to go to bed.”

He chuckles and kisses the top of your head. “My apologies, moya lyubov’.”

“You’re a real tease, Piotr. You know that?”

“I will endeavor to do better in future, myshka.” He kisses the top of your head again, then focuses on rubbing soft, slow circles up and down your back.

You slowly relax against him, breaths evening out and deepening until your eyelids start drooping shut. You jerk awake a couple times, but eventually you’re dozing against him, verging on outright sleep.

He kisses your forehead, then smiles at the endearing whimper you let out. “Let’s go to bed, dorogoy.”

“No,” you mumble. “Sleepy here.”

“Bed,” he insists softly. “You will rest better.”

You grunt, then press your face against his chest. “Carry me.”

He can’t help but smile as he kisses your temple. “Konechno.”

He lifts you into his arms, and takes you and himself to bed.

He’d known back then that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, whatever that looked like. He wanted to spoil you, cherish you, love you.

He pauses writing a name on an envelope –a reminder to hand it to the right person and make sure they’re in the right place—to fan the paper back and forth so the ink dries.

He loves you. God, he loves you.

Not to say that it’s been easy, or that the relationship the two of you have has been one smooth ride. It hasn’t. Sometimes, it still isn’t.

But good things come to those who work for them.

Things are better since you went into therapy.

Not because you’re crazy and you need someone to tell you you’re wrong. (No, if he’d gotten wind of anything like that happening, he would’ve been in Charles’s office with his concerns –and more than one complaint—in a heartbeat.)

No, it’s better because you’re getting help he can’t give you. You’re learning communication tools even he didn’t fully know, and whatever you learn gets passed along into your relationship.

Better, however, doesn’t necessarily mean easy.

Case in point, uh, right now.

You’re sitting on the bed the two of you share, seething while you pointedly look everywhere but at him. “You had no right, Piotr. No. Right.”

“I was worried about you—”

“Oh, so, what? You hacked into my file? And my records? And then you tracked me down based on an unlisted number attached to all that?” You finally look at him, glaring fiercely. “That was an invasion of my privacy. You had no right to do any of that!”

“You left without warning!”

“Which I have every right to do! I’m an adult!”

“You’ve been kidnapped before,” he reminds you tersely. “And you have crossed paths with Harmony. Not to mention, you are here for protection, as permanent resident. If I need to follow up on you for your safety, I will.”

You shake your head. “No. That’s not fair to me.”

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Be that as it may, dorogoy, believe me when I say I genuinely believe it is for your safety. There are external variables at play.”

“And it lets you control me and follow me all over the place even when I want privacy,” you spit out, voice dripping with exasperation. “Great.”

Piotr purses his lips. “I was wrong to follow you without warning. I should have talked to Professor Xavier about information I found first.” He closes the distance between the two of you and kneels in front of you. “I overstepped, and I am sorry. If I could go back and change my choice, I would.”

Your lower lip trembles, and you squeeze your eyes shut as tears start trickling down your cheeks. “I can’t –I can’t be controlled again. I can’t have you be like my parents, I can’t be trapped. I close my eyes and I’m still locked in my room—”

He quickly sits next to you on the bed when your voice cracks and lifts you into his arms. “I am so sorry. I do not want to control you.”

“But you’re just going to follow me again!” you insist between sobs. “You’ve done it now, so what’s stopping you in the future?”

He sighs as he rocks you back and forth. “The only time I would follow you is in life or death situation. Khorosho?”

“What was so life or death about this?”

“You leave without warning, leave phone behind, go to undisclosed location, and do not check in with anyone?”

You stay quiet for a moment, then let out a breath. You slump against him, frustration seemingly leaving your body as you exhale. “Yeah. Okay. That’s… that’s fair. I wasn’t fair about this.”

“I understand your fear,” he says as he kisses your temple. “And I do not want to add to it. And I did not handle situation well.”

“Neither of us handled it well,” you correct. “We both fucked up. I fucked up.” You sniff and press your face against his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“I am sorry as well,” he murmurs into your hair. “And I forgive you.”

“I forgive you, too.”

The room goes quiet for a moment, save for your shaky breathing and sniffling.

“Let’s not do this again,” you pipe up. “Like, with the fighting and the asshole-ing and… all of it. Let’s just… not.”

“I am amenable to that.”

You wrap your arms around his chest and squeeze yourself against him. “I love you, Piotr.”

He hugs you back. “And I love you, Y/N.”

He has to lean back on his seat to avoid spilling tears on all the freshly sealed envelopes. He wipes his cheeks dry with the heels of his hands, then wipes off his hands on his jeans.

It’s been a long road to get to where the two of you are now, and it’s been worth every step.

He pulls out his phone and checks that he’s heard from everyone that needs to be involved, then checks to make sure he’s got all the pictures he needs.

One fact most people don’t know about him: Piotr loves taking pictures.

They’re an essential part of his life. Not just as references for his artwork –but that’s important too—but to keep him connected to his family. When they’re half the world away, pictures are often all he has of them.

Thus, when you become his girlfriend, it’s only natural that his habit of taking pictures of just about everything includes you.

He likes taking candids of you the most. Despite what you think, you’re really quite photogenic; there’s nothing he loves more of getting a shot of you where you’re completely relaxed, absorbed in whatever you’d been doing in the moment.

Or, perhaps even better, when you’re asleep.

He’d taken care to broach the subject with you first; as cute as –he thinks—“sleepy selfies” are, he knows that taking a picture of someone when they were sleeping could amount to a serious violation of privacy, to say nothing of how creepy it could be when done for the wrong reasons.

But you’d green-lighted it, so every now and then he does indulge.

Case in point, this morning.

He usually wakes up before you. He’s used to waking up early from his days on the farm; he’s a consummate morning person, which is good considering his schedule usually requires him to get up early so he can get to classes or training sessions on time.

And because he usually wakes up before you –you’re a stubborn sleeper—he usually gets to see you in a variety of endearing poses.

Case in point (again), this morning.

You’re currently tucked under the ridiculously fluffy comforter, snuggling your pillow in your sleep. Your face is half obscured by the pillow, and your hair is fanned over the pillowcase.

You look adorable.

It’s a Saturday. He doesn’t have anywhere to be or anything pressing to do.

So he rolls over –quietly—to grab his phone, then carefully angles his shot so it’s just right…

The sound effect of his phone’s camera wakes you up after the second shot. You inhale sharply as your eyelids flutter open, then smile sleepily when you see what he’s doing.

He chuckles when you hold up your fingers in a peace sign and takes another picture. “Dobroye utro, myshka.”

“G’mornin’ to you too, handsome.”

He chuckles again when you make grabby hands at him and obliges you by setting his phone down and drawing you into his arms. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah. Except the weirdest thing happened this morning. I could’ve sworn I heard someone taking a picture of me,” you tease.

“You looked very cute,” he says by way of explanation, kissing the top of your head.

“I always look cute.”

“That you do.”

You press a kiss against his chest, then start reaching for his phone. “Let’s take a picture together.”

He holds his phone –he loves you, but your track record with destroying technology is astounding—and holds it up so you’re both in the shot.

Before he can hit the button to take the picture, you wriggle up and plant a fat, affectionate kiss on his cheek.

He beams. He can’t help it.

He closes his eyes and smiles to himself. He can still feel the sensation of your lips pressing against his cheek. I am very lucky man.

He loves you. He loves you so much it hurts.

Which is why he’s gone to such extraordinary lengths to make sure all of this goes right.

Piotr kneels down and reaches under his desk.

Growing up in Russia with a mother who worked as an –unwilling—assassin had taught him a thing or two. Namely, that having a bag with necessary documents, IDs, some clothes, and cash was always a smart idea.

And that having hidden compartments on pieces of furniture is also a wise investment.

There’s a false bottom panel on part of his drawing desk that no one else knows about save for Nate –he figures in the event of emergency, the man can be trusted with the precious few documents Piotr keeps in there.

Lately, though, the compartment’s been a hiding place for another precious item.

He pulls out the black velvet ring box and opens it, both to check that the contents are still there and to admire said contents.

A gold band with a tastefully sized diamond set on it glitters up at him.

He smiles, then tucks the ring box back into the compartment before sliding the panel back into place. Soon.

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus x reader #this is a happy fic #seriously i think y'all are gonna scream #deadpool fanfiction #x men fanfiction

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kenkamishiro · 5 years

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20181116 Translation of Ishida and Takahashi’s interview with BuzzFeed Japan

It took me 3 days to translate this monster of an interview (~3.5k word count lol), but it’s finally done! My hands need a break after typing for so long...

Thank you to the interviewer Kashima Yui for asking some really great questions, and BuzzFeed JP for making this interview happen. I really enjoyed seeing Ishida and Takahashi banter back and forth, you can really tell that they’re great friends, and I’m happy to have witnessed a sliver of their relationship.

Also, I’m far from perfect, so if I’ve made a mistake or mistranslated something, please let me know.

Edit: Fixed a line from Takahashi saying, “You did it,” to “He got me.”

“I’ve always thought about quitting” - Author of Tokyo Ghoul and his sworn friend talk about their creative works and the troubles they’ve faced

Behind the scenes of Tokyo Ghoul’s final chapter, and what it means.

By Kashima Yui, BuzzFeed Staff, Japan

November 16, 2018

Over 37 million volumes of Tokyo Ghoul have been sold worldwide. During the 7 years it has taken to reach its conclusion - from the start of its serialization to July of this year - Ishida Sui has delivered an elaborately portrayed work with a profound story to the world at a tremendous speed.

This enigmatic mangaka has almost never appeared in the media, but there is a certain someone that he’s been influenced by.

That person is Takahashi Kunimitsu of österreich, who was responsible for the Tokyo Ghoul:re anime ending theme, “You of Paradise.” Ishida for some time had a phase where he would only listen to the music that Takahashi composed. “He’s the type who’ll say everything that’s on his mind,” he raves.

At the same time, Takahashi must have also been influenced in turn by Ishida, for he had stopped making music until he received a request from Ishida.

I thought that I would no longer be making music. Why am I...?

Sui-sensei lives in Fukuoka, and Takahashi-san resides in the Kanto region. How did you two first meet?

Ishida: We first met 3 years ago when I requested the opening theme “Incompetence” for the Tokyo Ghoul √A anime. I’d already received many proposals for the opening song, but I more or less shot them all down.

It was because I liked the former band the cabs that Kunimitsu-kun used to be a part of. Right around when I was drawing volume 7 of Tokyo Ghoul, I was pretty much listening to just one the cabs song, “Soldiers in February”, which might be why I’m so strongly attached to the band.

Takahashi: But by then, the cabs had already split up and I’d stopped being a musician.

Ishida: After Kunimitsu-kun took a break from being a musician, I kept an eye out on his SoundCloud (laughs).

Every now and then I’d see a new song uploaded, so I knew that he was still alive and well. Since I knew he was still making music I thought, “Couldn’t he compose music for Tokyo Ghoul too?”

I said that to the anime people about 100 times, that I wanted Takahashi Kunimitsu to make the opening. But because he couldn’t make up his mind, they turned me down 99 out of those 100 times.

Takahashi: That’s ‘cause I never got the news to begin with! Back then the manager of the office I was enrolled at suddenly said to me, “Something big’s happened.” No warning in advance.

Ishida: What do you mean I never told you, are you even hearing yourself right now? (laughs) But it really was an impossible request. Plus the fact that Kunimitsu’s band broke up and was now nonexistent.

Takahashi: I thought to myself that I’d no longer work in music, so I wasn’t willing to accept at the time.

I’d uploaded my music onto SoundCloud, but that page was just a personal space for myself rather than a place to market my music. So when I was approached about a collab I was thinking, “What are they talking about? Why me...?”

Along with the fact that I’d never read Tokyo Ghoul.

Were you scared?

Takahashi: I was terrified. It had already been 3 years since the band broke up, so I felt like I’d lost my ability to compose music. I was thinking, “What’ll happen if I can’t make it?” On top of that, that piece was on a much larger scale than anything I’d ever worked on. That made me anxious on a regular basis.

...but on the other hand, it felt like this was a sign telling me to keep playing music. I wasn’t sure if I could do it, but I thought that if I didn’t try here and now, I might not play music for the rest of my life.

I was extremely tight on schedule for “Incompetence”, the opening theme for Tokyo Ghoul √A, but at any rate I frantically worked on it in a frenzy, feeling more and more dead by the end of it. I didn’t read a single page from Tokyo Ghoul so that I wouldn’t get pulled in by it. The result...every single bad thing that had accumulated during my 3-year hiatus showed up all over the song.

Ishida: I basically like everything he composes, so when I heard the demo I thought it was pretty good. I was more than happy. But I have to admit, that song...is way too all over the place (laughs).

Takahashi: Even when I listen to it now I think it’s all over the place.

Did the two of you come to interact through the production of “Incompetence”?

Ishida: No...back then I just received the demo. After it was released, we talked about it on Skype, and that was probably our first ever conversation. After that, was it through Twitter DM or email?...I got a message from him that had an “at this time” kind of vibe, and that’s when we began talking to each other more personally.

[T/N: I’m not exactly sure what Ishida meant by “at this time”, but the word he used, “この度は” is a form of “now” that you’d use in formal/business speech, so perhaps he meant that Takahashi’s message to him felt formal.]

The extent of our conversation for several months was just exchanging texts back and forth, but one day we unexpectedly began voice chatting through Skype. And then Kunimitsu-kun declared out of nowhere, “I am light.” (laughs)

Takahashi: I was overly concerned about my own image, so I’d try to crack jokes or else I’d have a hard time making conversation.

Ishida: I thought he was acting like an extremely gloomy person because he felt like it. Back then that dark part of me was also prominent, so when I tried talking all emo I’d get told, “I’m light.” (laughs)

Takahashi: I told you, that’s just me talking a lot and making jokes.

Ishida: After that, we’d talk on Skype once every month or two. One time we talked for around 6 hours.

Takahashi: Until morning. This guy talks while he works, you know, so he can blabber on for a long time.

Ishida: Funny enough I make more progress if I have someone to talk to while I’m working.

A mangaka and a musician talking on Skype night after night

And that doesn’t reduce your ability to concentrate? Since when you’re talking over the phone there are moments where you have to think about the person you’re talking to.

Ishida: It depends on the work. There’s a term in the manga industry where you’re just moving your hands. The “usual work”, should I put it? The “usual face”, the “usual composition.” When I’m doing that kind of work, I’ll often listen to someone talk, watch TV, or listen to music.

What do you talk about?

Ishida: About creative works, among other topics. Recently we’ve been talking about death matches.

Death matches?

Ishida: A type of fiction where a group of people are forced to kill each other off, you’re guaranteed to find one in any convenience store. Because the death match is such an excellent format, it’s easy to draw and sell in any era. But if the author relies too much on that format, the story will fall apart without them even realizing it...that’s my opinion on it.

The most interesting death match is still “Battle Royale.”

Takahashi: Rigid formats will always exist in any kind of media, including in music. It’s fine if you put a story into that template for starters, that’s what a countless number of creators are aiming for.

Ishida: The format itself isn’t bad, but if you rely too much on it, it no longer becomes your own creation, and the work ends up becoming sloppy and excessive.

When you’re talking things over with each other, are you ever influenced by the other person?

Ishida: I am. Whether it’s music or manga, I realized that there are many factors that I can relate to in terms of creativity, even if I may not be an expert in those fields. When I’m talking to Kunimitsu-kun, it makes me wonder if I can connect with people working in other genres. We can have discussions without building fences between one other.

What about yourself, Takahashi-san?

Takahashi: Objectively speaking, Ishida-kun is a very successful person. In the past I would always hold feelings of inferiority towards those successful people.

But talking to him...I realized that he was a normal person. It might just be by chance that Ishida is normal, but how should I put it, we suffer in similar ways. In that sense I’ve become more open-minded and changed how I think about people running on the front lines.

...I’m a professional too, after all. Since I’m a creator, the last thing I can do is call professionals fools.

I once gave up on music. Ishida Sui has kept going.

Takahashi-san, why did you stop being a musician in the first place? I heard that just before the cabs tour you suddenly disappeared.

Takahashi: ...that’s right. I caused a lot of trouble for many people, especially the band members, so I can’t talk much about it...just that I ran away like a fool. That’s why I thought I wouldn’t be working on music anymore.

After you kept composing music in your “personal space”, you received news of a collaboration. Have your thoughts changed on this matter?

Takahashi: I suppose so. When it comes to anything concerning Ishida Sui, there are two things that have affected me the most. The first is that the act of continuing on no matter what is worth its weight in gold, and to not object to it.

Ishida: It’s a huge feat, putting things out with no regard to its shape or form. I feel it even more since I’m not working on a serialization anymore. Whoever can accomplish this is truly remarkable.

Takahashi: I’ve already given up on music once, so I’ve got some very strong feelings regarding this.

And one more...because Tokyo Ghoul really felt like it reached its conclusion, I realized that “ending things properly” and “continuing” can both be considered equally wonderful.

What do you mean by “ending things properly”?

Takahashi: You know what Ishida-kun said when we first met? “I’d like to end Tokyo Ghoul by turning it into a complete train wreck.”

Ishida: You said you’d demolish it for me (laughs).

Takahashi: But when I actually read the final chapter, it had a pretty clean ending. "He got me...” I thought.

I’ve always thought about quitting

Takahashi: I find it frustrating that I was given the right answer without feeling like I earned it. Here I am strolling on the sidewalk, and before I know it Ishida-kun’s racing down the road...that’s what it feels like. That’s what I was heavily influenced by when I was making “You of Paradise.” How valuable “ending things properly” can be.

You’ve already mentioned how important it is to keep on going, but Sui-sensei, you continued to work on your serialization for 7 years. Did you ever think about quitting?

Ishida: All the time. I underestimated how taxing manga and magazine serializations were.

Why is that?

Ishida: I wonder...I think it was only after I realized that I could rely on other people that I really began to enjoy making manga. The conclusions I came to on my own were mostly self-contained, and I no longer felt that it was fun drawing manga alone.

But I found another way after asking around. And it only took about 6.5 years (laughs).

Have you been worrying on your own until then?

Ishida: This is a personal problem, but I didn’t want to tell anyone about how the story would unfold. I also considered the editor-in-charge as a reader, so I wanted to keep it a secret. In that case, what am I supposed to discuss with the editor? I can only talk about superficial things...that’s what I did for the longest time.

And though I’d been so eager to stop, I said that I wanted to keep going a bit longer during the last half-year...which was why I kept dropping off the manuscripts late every week. It seems that the printers always had to wait until the very last minute for my manuscripts.

The final chapter of Tokyo Ghoul was meant to be a train wreck

Ishida: I’d originally planned to finish it December of last year, but I said, “I’m sorry, I need another 3 months.” I increased the extension bit by bit, and I ended up lengthening it by about 6 months.

When I told the editorial department that I’d be done in 10 chapters, they prepared the cover page of the final chapter’s issue. But right before the deadline I told them, “I’m sorry again, I need 3 more chapters…”

Takahashi: I was reading that issue of Young Jump where it was supposed to end in 10 chapters. I was completely deceived (laughs). I saw the cover and it said, “Tokyo Ghoul climax.” So I thought, “Is it finally over?” but when I read it it just kept going on.

Ishida: When I told them I needed 3 more chapters, it was too late by then. Most likely every department was under chaos then, but I hope you can sympathize with the Young Jump editorial department.

Is that the reason why Tokyo Ghoul was on the back cover of the final chapter’s issue?

Ishida: It is. Thanks to the kindness of the editor-in-chief, he suggested that Tokyo Ghoul could get a cover if it was on the back.

I often see final chapters on the front cover, but it’s kinda cool to have it on the back instead. It might even be better to have the reader see Kaneki and Touka on the back so they can read it and think, “It’s really over.” It wasn’t what I was necessarily aiming for, but thanks to the editor-in-chief’s stylistic sense it made that back cover possible.

The final chapter went from a train wreck to a happy ending. Did you have a chance to change your mind?

Ishida: Probably...once I was aware that the ending was approaching, I lost all meaning of value behind a train wreck ending. At first I thought, “Let’s shock everyone and make myself disappear,” but then I realized that I was misconstruing that as cool.

Nonetheless...the endgame had some parts that were definitely messy, but I changed them to be positive. I’m fine with it not being good, as long as it’s got some definitive answers. That happy ending is also a train wreck in its own way (laughs). I thought that that kind of train wreck would be more interesting.

Takahashi: That ending completely shocked me. “He got me,” I uttered.

Communicating, continuing, ending

How did you feel when you were asked to collaborate with Tokyo Ghoul once again for “You of Paradise”?

Takahashi: As we got to know each other, we’d inevitably talk about the anime. I couldn’t refuse when I was asked to compose the ending song when I’d been watching the course of the final chapter from up close, and been utterly deceived and shocked by it.

...but I was scared.

Why did you think that, even though you achieved it last time without any major hiccups?

Ishida: I think it’s that feeling of, “did I strike gold?” There’s a lot of luck involved when you’re extracting gold from a lode. He was able to do this naturally during the cabs era.

Takahashi: I could compose music almost as if those lodes were exposed to the open.

Ishida: When I asked him to do “You of Paradise”, I got the feeling that he was thinking, “Where can I dig from...” I think he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to dig up that lode. Though I thought he was going to be fine.

How do you think it turned out when you tried composing it with that fear in mind? Were there any changes, compared it to “Incompetence”?

Takahashi: “Incompetence” being all over the place was because I was all over the place.

Up until now I’ve been making music and thinking that I can’t convey my ideas well. When I was in the band, I’d never really been able to express my thoughts so I gave up. I thought it was an impossible feat for me.

“Incompetence” was a song that I tossed out into the world, without any hope that I’d be able to express such a warped feeling. For a while after that song was released, I hardly ever listened to it.

But Ishida-kun and my friends who are still playing in bands...I’ve watched them keep on going or reach a proper end no matter how many years passed by. They’re doing it right.

I came to the conclusion that it was dishonest of me to give up on expressing myself from the beginning when the people around me have been working hard and doing their best.

Sui-sensei, have you ever thought that you couldn’t convey something when drawing your manga?

Ishida: I definitely have.

Takahashi: Sounds like you’ve given up.

Ishida: Maybe, since I have to draw every week. If I don’t follow a set routine then I become overwhelmed very quickly. This means that I’m working on one panel at a time, but I can’t convey my ideas well that way.

And it’s not the reader’s fault, it might just be that I’m not good enough. I couldn’t figure it out no matter how much I thought about it, so I gave up on the issue of not being able to properly convey my ideas.

To be honest, I don’t really feel anything from people reading my stuff. I can’t physically see you reading the manga, and I can’t gauge how you really feel about it by asking how many copies you have. It’s to the point where sometimes I’ll notice someone reading it at a convenience store and think, “I finally found someone.” It makes me think that being a mangaka is a lonely profession.

Takahashi-san, did you compose “You of Paradise” after reading the final chapter this time?

Takahashi: I read it this time (laughs). At first, the song I was using for the ending before “You of Paradise” was some ridiculously abstruse piece. After I sent it to Ishida-kun, he told me, “To be honest, it’s got the things that I want to express and it’s packed with lots of stuff, but I want you to compose a really simple piece that anyone can listen to and enjoy.” And so it got rebuilt and that’s the song you see today (laughs).

First, face what you’re trying to convey. Don’t whine about how you can’t convey your ideas if you haven’t tried in the first place. That’s what I thought. If you start thinking, “I can’t do it in the first place,” you’re running away. Take that first step. It feels like I can now pursue universal virtues.

Ishida: It’s a challenge, huh.

Takahashi: I’ve thought about just giving up in defeat. When I first saw that the final chapter that Ishida-kun wanted to make a wreck of had turned into a beautiful and happy ending...he seemed to have chosen to end it by having it speak to people universally. I was shocked by it, and the desire to go along with it bloomed in me. If Tokyo Ghoul can have that kind of ending, then I can make the music to match it.

You seem to have changed a lot as a person over the last 3 years.

Takahashi: I had a musical spirit who would always whisper in my ear, “You’re that kind of human being, aren’t you?” When it disappeared after having stuck around since my band days, I kept my distance from it. But I feel refreshed now since I think I should finally put an end to my issues.

Ishida: “You of Paradise” is the only song appropriate for that kind of ending. No other song can work.

After a 2 hour interview, Ishida and Takahashi vanished into the streets of Shibuya to go watch a live performance of cinema staff, to which Iida Mizuki, the guest vocalist for “You of Paradise”, is a member of.

As an aside, the name of the cabs live tour that was never realized after Takahashi suddenly disappeared, was called “You of Paradise.”

END OF THE INTERVIEW.

Translator notes:

I think I need to clarify on what I mean by ‘train wreck’. When I say it, it refers to something in ruins, complete shambles, destroyed. Essentially a tragic ending, akin to chapter 143 of :re, so Ishida was thinking about having TG end in tragedy. I chose to use the term ‘train wreck’ and ‘in ruins’ over ‘tragic’ because they have slightly different connotations (台無し vs. 悲劇). It’s the reason why I would consider TG chapter 140 (when Kaneki ‘dies’ to Arima in V14, looks like an end to a classic tragedy play) as tragic ( 悲劇) and TG:re chapter 143 (when Kaneki loses to Juuzou and Hanbee and shit hits the fan for everyone) as 台無し (train wreck/ruined).

#Tokyo Ghoul #Tokyo Ghoul:re #Ishida Sui #Takahashi Kunimitsu #osterreich #Interview #Translations #my translations

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