#I can’t wait to get vol 2

[jensjumbledmess]

I don’t have a full review (or even a condensed one) for The Witcher Omnibus Vol. 1, but I did give it 4 stars! ⭐️ I need to re read it, it’s been a couple of years and I’ve forgotten some of the plots. But here’s some pictures from inside if anyone is interested!

[ryuucam]

SWEET BROWN SUGAR (VOL 2)

˓𓄹 ࣪˖ more kink drabbles :3 including jing yuan, gallagher, mr reca, phainon (vol 1 here)

contains a bit darker than vol 1 .. meanie jing yuan :(, gallagher is gross (i need him so bad)!!!! actress!reader in reca’s hehe, phainon is lowk insane

notes cant wait for mydei’s banner (i barely saved up a 10 pull)

JING YUAN — cockwarming + breeding

lazy sex with the laziest general on the xianzhou isn’t a surprise to anyone. but alas, despite being older, bigger and wiser now, he was still raised as a cloud knight, trained to build up as much stamina as he could. maybe, you wonder, that’s why he never seems to get too tired, never seems to get his stupid fat cock to soften. however, he just can’t be bothered to thrust into you, breaking out a sweat to pound in his sweet lover, no, he’ll just stuff it right into your cunt, keeping it warm as he finishes all the paperwork diviner fu sent him. too lazy to think about what the cloud knights who barge into the seat of divine foresight will think, jing yuan figures it’s best to keep you plopped into his lap all day. but of course his princess is bound to get bored, and he’s never been an evil man. so his honeyed words fill up the room, encouraging you to fuck yourself using him, hands rubbing your tits above your shirt. lunch breaks are his favorite part of the day, since you typically work up the courage to ride him then. he won’t help you, no, he’ll save his actions for later tonight, but he still keeps you plugged with his cum, filling your tummy and keeping it warm.

GALLAGHER — daddy + corruption

gallagher gets disgusted with himself sometimes. he knows he shouldn’t hang around you so much, but you make it so easy when you stumble into his bar for the nth time this month, short skirt hanging low on your hips. but, he also knows you really don’t know any better. he’s always so nice to you, maybe a little teasing here and there, giving you time and space to ramble about whatever fad you’re into nowadays. he just nods, eyes focused on the way your lips play with the straw of your drink. gallagher’s mind is filled with you, having spent countless off duty nights tugging at his cock wishing it was your hand instead. he doesn’t hesitate when he notices how you’ve been squirming on the bar stool, back arching and your nipples showing beneath your tight shirt. of course he doesn’t hesitate when you murmur something about feeling hot and wanting his help — maybe he should’ve. now you’re pressed into his small mattress, clothing long lost on the floor of his room, too busy squealing as he rubs and pinches your clit and tits. you really don’t know any better, relying on an older man to take care of you .. gallagher thinks you’re so cute, cheeks all red as you stammer out some daddy, please while he rubs his cock over your cunny. don’t worry, daddy’ll take really good care of you, ruining you for everyone else. gallagher’s gross, really, but you don’t seem to mind.

MR RECA — filming + lingerie

does this even surprise anyone? he’s penacony’s best filmmaker, known for his versatility and ability to make every genre feel appealing to the audience. of course, he can’t stick to traditional movies forever, especially since finding out how much he loves filming you. after begging you to star in a few of his movies (action, romance, whatever!), reca started feeling insatiable, completely head over heels for you. sure, he loves taking you out on cute dates and fucking you silly after, but there’s an itch he just can’t seem to scratch… until he gets the genius (his words) idea to dress you up in lewd, skimpy clothes, a stage costume of some sorts if you will, and film you getting ruined right after. he can’t pick a favorite, and thankfully he has no issues in buying you intricate lace bras or lewd latex thongs — you look great regardless, especially since he seems to have endless recording techniques up his sleeve, always managing to picture you in the best way possible. you don’t even notice, really, as reca plows his cock into you and moves the camera to capture your breasts bouncing in your flimsy bra. but of course, your little movies stay private, between you and him. the public is not deserving of such high quality erotica! (reca just doesn’t want to share you with anyone. you’ll stick to starring in slice of life movies for now.)

PHAINON — cunningulus + dacryphilia

phainon is almost the textbook definition of knight in shining armor, always tending to each and every one of your needs. even in bed, he only cares about your pleasure, spending hours and hours on foreplay, sucking your tits and bruising your neck with endless hickeys, before burying his face in your crotch. you can try to tell him to stop, to just fuck you already, but he doesn’t listen, drunk on your cunny! he sucks agonizingly slow on your poor, swollen clit, then presses wet kisses on your puffy lips before plunging his tongue in your hole. phainon is selfish, however, and despite making you cum countless times more than he does, he still wishes to leave his mark on you, so that everyone can see that you belong to phainon of the crysos heirs. his hands grip on your plush thighs, bruising your flesh, and he’s so much stronger than you — you can’t get him to leave your poor cunt alone even if you tried. when phainon stops, only because you cried a bit too much, he admires the tear stains on your cheeks. there’s a sick thought in his brain, plaguing his mind, of how innocent you look, all fucked out on his bed. the more you cry, the more he feels his cock harden again. but when you call out his name, he goes back to being the same sweet boy you know. he can’t let you know how he truly feels, who he truly is.

[byhuenii]

YOU-ology

Pairing Bucky Barnes x Reader

Syonpsis Bucky has been trying to understand you—your habits, your silences, your smiles. You speak in gestures more than words, in shared glances and cups of coffee left just right.The problem? He doesn’t know what a “love language” is. It sounds like a literal dialect. So naturally, he puts on his reading glasses, makes a study binder, and asks Peter Parker to teach him Gen Z slang, but he knows one thing for sure: if loving you means learning everything—he’s ready to graduate with honors.

(Inspired by TXT 'Love Language')

Word Count 2.6k

Tags + Warning Soft misunderstanding / no angst, fluff overload, accidental confession via ASL, soft!bucky

— YOU-ology Researching you-ology, all about you, from A to Z

“I can’t read your mind,” he says, voice low. “But I want to.”

The sunlight hits just right in the Brooklyn apartment. You’re sitting on the windowsill, nursing your third cup of coffee, and Bucky’s leaning against the kitchen counter like the world isn’t tilting every time you look away from him.

You don’t speak right away. You’re used to silence. He’s learning that.

He watches as you stir your coffee absentmindedly. You always stir five times. Clockwise. Never more, never less.

He’s been keeping track of things like that.

Like how you always set out two mugs in the morning, even when he doesn’t sleep over. How you keep an extra blanket folded at the end of the couch even though he insists he doesn’t get cold. How you hand him a protein bar without asking if he’s eaten.

You don’t say much. But you do a lot.

And Bucky? Bucky’s trying to figure out if this—whatever this is—means what he hopes it does.

He’s never been great with feelings. Too many years pretending he didn’t have any. But with you, he wants to get it right.

“I think I might be speaking the wrong dialect of love,” he tells Peter Parker seriously. “Is there a Duolingo for romance?”

Bucky has fought in wars, survived brainwashing, outpaced death—and yet, nothing has confused him quite like you.

Well, you, and this strange thing Peter said over lunch the other day.

"Oh, love language? Yeah, it's like how people give and receive affection. You gotta know your partner's love language to really connect.”

Love language?

Bucky had blinked at Peter from behind his coffee, the words rattling around like marbles in a tin can. “There’s a language for that?”

Peter had shrugged like it was obvious. “Yeah, there are five. Physical touch, words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, and gifts. You know… the usual.”

Bucky had nodded slowly, like he understood. He did not understand. He thought "acts of service" was a military term.

Back home, Bucky had pulled out his reading glasses (the ones Sam doesn’t know he owns) and Googled:

“What is love language.” “Love language translation.” “How to know if you’re good at love.”

Twenty tabs later, he had a headache, a notebook full of bullet points, and a tiny post-it with your name surrounded by little doodled hearts he definitely didn’t mean to draw.

STUDY NOTES:

☑ Quality time → you always wait for him after missions

☑ Acts of service → you make his tea how he likes it (2 sugar, no judgment)

☑ Physical touch → light shoulder pats, a knee against his under the table, casual-but-not-casual hand touches

☑ Gifts → brought him a vintage Captain America comic once. He almost cried.

☑ Words of affirmation → okay this one’s harder. You’re quiet. You show love, but don’t say it much. Still… he catches you looking. That means something.

He circles the last one twice.

—

One morning, Bucky shows up to your door with a homemade dictionary titled:

“You-ology: A Comprehensive Field Guide to Understanding You” (Vol. 1 — Beta Edition)

It’s leather-bound. Handwritten. Indexed.

There’s a doodle of you on page one that looks suspiciously like it was done by a man lying on his stomach with his feet up and his legs kicking.

You flip through it, trying not to grin. “You made me a… glossary?”

Bucky pushes his glasses up his nose. “I’ve been decoding your signals.”

“You’ve been—what?”

“You say things without saying them. And I figured maybe if I could learn your dialect, I could say things back.”

You’re stunned. Speechless. Warm all over.

“Bucky,” you say, “you’re literally learning a love language like it’s a spy code.”

He squints. “It’s not?”

Once Bucky learns that love languages aren’t actual dialects, he’s a little embarrassed. For five whole seconds.

Then he decides:

“Fine. Then I’ll try all of them. Just in case.”

And he does. With alarming dedication.

Words of Affirmation: You wake up to a note on your fridge:

“You’re the smartest person I know. Even smarter than Banner. (Don’t tell him.) - B”

And another on your coffee cup:

“You deserve the world. But I brought you coffee instead. I hope that’s okay.”

When you turn around, he’s leaning on the counter, flushed red. “Too much?”

Acts of Service: You offhandedly mention your sink is dripping.

The next day it’s fixed. And your drawer doesn’t stick anymore. And your laptop’s updated. And your favorite hoodie that you thought you lost? Folded on your bed.

He salutes you on his way out like it’s a secret mission. “All in a day’s work, ma’am.”

Quality Time: He clears a Saturday. No missions. No distractions.

You watch four movies, eat terrible microwave popcorn, and fall asleep on his shoulder.

He doesn’t move. Not for hours. His arm goes numb. He doesn’t care.

He tells Sam later: “Best damn day I’ve had in decades.”

Gifts: He leaves a flower on your desk. Not a rose. A tiny forget-me-not. The tag says:

“This reminded me of your laugh. Kind of small. Kind of magic.”

You keep it in a book. He notices. Doesn’t say a word. Smiles so hard his cheeks hurt.

Physical Touch: He used to flinch. Now? He leans in.

You touch his hair once and he forgets how to breathe. Next day, he wears it slightly messy. Hopes you’ll do it again.

One day, you reach for his hand. He holds it like it’s fragile. Like you’re holding him. His thumb rubs soft circles into your palm.

“Just… letting you know I’m here,” he murmurs.

You squeeze back. “I know.”

Peter Parker ends up being his unofficial relationship coach.

“Wait—what’s a ‘green flag?’” “Peter, what does ‘simp’ mean?” “Is it normal to dream about their smile for six nights in a row or is that brain damage?” “Be honest. Am I down bad?”

Peter: “...You’re down astronomical, sir.”

—

One rainy night, you both get stuck in the Tower’s media room during a storm.

Bucky fidgets with the sleeves of his hoodie. You notice he’s scribbled something in the corner of his You-ology notebook.

You tilt your head. “What’s that?”

He doesn’t look up. Just says, “It’s… new vocabulary.”

He passes you the notebook.

 He wants to understand you like he’s memorizing a secret language only the two of you speak.

He clears his throat. “I’ve been… trying to study you. Is that weird?”

Your brows raise slightly in amusement. “Study me?”

“Yeah,” he says, running a hand through his short hair. “Like—figure out what you’re saying when you’re not actually saying anything.”

You look at him now, eyes softening. “You’ve been reading my… ‘you-ology?’”

He laughs. It’s a quiet, rusty thing. Rare. But so warm when it happens.

“I guess I have,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “I know you like your coffee sweet but pretend you don’t. I know you always hum when you’re nervous, and you’ll never ask for help, but you’ll stay up until 2 a.m. helping me.”

His metal hand flexes. Nervous.

“And I know you look at me like I mean something… but I don’t know if I’m reading it right.”

Your voice is soft. “And what if you are?”

He stops.

His heart stops.

The sun hits your cheek just right, your smile so shy it breaks something open in him.

“I don’t talk much,” you add, “because I never really had to. Not with the right people. But I make sure they’re warm. That they eat. That they know I’m there, even when I can’t say it out loud.”

He swallows hard.

“Then I guess,” Bucky says slowly, stepping into your space, “I’ve been speaking your love language this whole time.”

You smile, fingers brushing the inside of his wrist. You trace the edge where skin meets metal. He shivers.

“And you?” you whisper. “What’s your language?”

He thinks. He’s never been asked that.

Maybe it’s not words. Maybe it’s quiet, safe mornings and the way he remembers your favorite color. Maybe it’s standing between you and the crowd even when there’s no danger. Maybe it’s showing up. Not running.

“I think,” he says, “it’s time. Sitting with you. Watching dumb movies. Letting you talk or not talk. Just… being.”

You nod. “Then you’ve been speaking mine too.”

His hand curls around yours.

Chapter 6: When I’m With You, Everything Makes Sense

Coffee = comfort

Silence = trust

Laughter = home

You = safe

You = mine? (still unsure. researching.)

Your throat tightens. “You big dork.”

He glances up, hopeful. “But… like, a lovable dork?”

You kiss his cheek. “Fluently lovable.”

Weeks later, you hand him a little leather journal.

On the front:

“Bucky-ese: A Guide to Loving You Back (YOU-ology)”

He flips it open.

Page One:

“Your love language is: All of them. But especially being seen. And I see you.”

He presses the book to his chest like it’s holy.

Then: “You wanna watch that stupid baking show and drink tea out of mismatched mugs like we’re 80?”

He grins. “That’s my favorite dialect.”

There’s no grand declaration. No fiery kiss.

Just soft, sacred quiet.

But that’s the thing about love languages. You don’t always need to hear them. Sometimes, you just feel them.

And Bucky?

He feels you.

—

Lately, he’s gotten really into studying TikToks and music videos you like. You walk in one night and he’s watching TXT’s “Love Language” choreo on repeat.

He’s squinting at the screen, rewinding and mimicking one particular moment — where the members make the “I Love You” sign in ASL, fingers shaped just right.

He sees you enter and lights up like a puppy who just figured out how to sit.

“Hey! I think I cracked it. That hand thing—like, this?” He does it—thumb, index, pinky up. “It’s like, modern slang for love, right? Like Gen Z emoji but with your hands?”

You pause mid-step.

Your heart thuds.

“Bucky… do you know what that actually means?”

He blinks. “Yeah! It’s like, ‘you’re cool’ or something? Peter said it’s used in dances a lot. You know, like ‘🤟 vibes only.’”

You stare at him. He’s still holding it up—so proud, so casual—like he didn’t just set fire to your entire nervous system.

“James.”

Your voice is soft. He stops.

You step forward slowly, take his hand in both of yours, and gently lower it.

“That sign isn’t slang,” you whisper, eyes searching his face. “It’s American Sign Language. It means ‘I love you.’ Literally. Not ‘cool.’ Not ‘vibes.’ Love.”

Silence.

His eyes go huge.

His mouth parts—then shuts. Then opens. Then shuts again. He is rebooting.

“…Oh.”

Then—quiet panic.

“…Oh.”

He scrubs a hand down his face. “Wait. Wait, I’ve been doing that for, like, three days. To you. While you were making dinner. On the couch. That one time in the elevator—”

You nod, very calm. “Yes. You told me you loved me 17 times. And yes, I counted.”

He is bright red. Apocalyptic red. He looks like he might spontaneously combust.

“I—I didn’t know—*I mean I do, I mean not like—*I mean obviously I do—” He’s flustered and fumbling, hands waving.

You grab them. Hold them gently. Steady.

“You really do?”

His voice is barely a breath. “Yeah.”

Your smile cracks through the tension like sunrise.

“Then say it again.”

You release one of his hands. He looks at you—heart on his sleeve, nerves frayed.

And slowly, deliberately, he lifts his hand again.

Thumb, index finger, pinky.

I love you.

And this time—he knows exactly what it means.

BONUS:LATER THAT NIGHT!!

He flops onto your couch face-down and groans into a pillow. “I confessed on accident like some kind of boyband backup dancer.”

You’re sitting next to him, stroking his hair. “It was perfect.”

He peeks up. “You sure?”

You grin. “Fluently perfect.”

He groans again—but he’s smiling.

—

“You’re my safe place, and I think I just proposed to you using the wrong hand sign, oh my god—can we rewind time or am I gonna die here on this rug?”

Bucky has a Plan™️.

After accidentally telling you “I love you” 17 times in ASL (without realizing it) and then on purpose (with realization), he’s decided he wants to learn a full phrase.

Something simple. Something sweet.

Something like:

“I’m happy with you.” Or maybe: “You’re my home.”

So he goes to Peter. Again.

Peter, to his eternal regret, pulls out a basic ASL learning app and walks Bucky through the signs.

Problem is, Bucky’s fingers don’t cooperate yet. His muscle memory is stubborn. His brain is full of you and short-circuiting.

What he meant to learn was:

“You make me feel safe.” (“YOU — MAKE — ME — FEEL — SAFE”)

What he accidentally signs, in a combination of nervousness and fumbled syntax, is:

“YOU — MAKE — ME — YOUR — WIFE.”

He doesn’t realize it.

You, who actually knows ASL, absolutely do.

It’s a quiet afternoon in your apartment. Rain against the window. Music low.

Bucky has that look again—the one where he’s clearly been practicing something all day and is about to do it nervously but dramatically.

You’re curled up on the couch when he stands in front of you, face serious, eyes way too shiny.

He clears his throat.

“Okay. I’ve been learning more. ASL. Because I wanna speak it the way you do. With your hands. With your heart.”

You melt. Instantly. He’s fidgeting, biting his bottom lip. He looks like a storm in a sweater.

Then he signs.

Slowly. Carefully.

“YOU — MAKE — ME — YOUR — WIFE.”

You freeze.

Your eyes go wide. Your heart? Gone. Brain? Empty.

Bucky is beaming.

“Did I get it right?”

You blink. “Um. Almost.”

“Yeah?” He looks so proud. “I practiced for, like, six hours. I wanted to say you make me feel… y’know, safe. Like… like I’m home.”

There is a pause.

Then you start laughing.

Not a mean laugh—a breathless, overwhelmed, you-are-so-stupidly-perfect-how-is-this-my-life laugh.

Bucky’s face crumples. “Wait. Did I say something weird?”

You can barely get the words out. “James Buchanan Barnes—you just proposed to me.”

He freezes.

Like—winter soldier frozen mid-mission freezes.

“…Wait. I what?”

You take his hands gently and show him.

“WIFE.” You do the correct sign. “SAFE.” You show the actual one. “Different hand shape.”

Bucky looks between your hands and his own like they’ve betrayed him.

His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.

“…Did I really just—?”

You nod, biting your lip.

“…Oh god.”

He immediately flops to his knees, hands in his hair, face in his palms. He’s red everywhere.

“I didn’t mean to propose. I can’t propose like that—there was no ring, no speech, no flowers—you were in socks—”

You blink. “Would it have been better if I wasn’t in socks?”

“YES. I mean NO. I mean—GOD.”

He’s pacing now. “Do we take it back? Is it binding? Is this like vampire rules where once you say it it’s done—I didn’t even kneel on purpose—”

You walk up to him.

Cup his cheeks.

He’s still spiraling.

“…Was it weird? Was it bad? Was it too soon? Do you wanna break up with me and then date me again so I can do it right?”

You shake your head, smiling.

“Bucky.”

He stops.

You lean in, press your forehead to his.

Then you sign, clear as day:

YES.

He freezes.

“Wait. Yes what?”

You say it out loud this time. Soft. Steady.

“Yes. I’ll be your wife.”

His breath leaves him like someone knocked it out with a hug.

“…Even though I proposed by accident?”

You kiss his nose.

“Especially because of that.”

Bucky buys a ring the very next day.

He still does the ASL sign for “I love you” every time you leave the room. You never get used to it.

And one day, he signs perfectly:

YOU — ARE — MY — SAFE — PLACE.

You tear up.

And then, just to mess with him, you sign back:

MAKE — ME — YOUR — HUSBAND.

He drops his drink.

You both laugh so hard you forget the world.

(You've got mail!) well well well..WELL WELL WELLLLLLLL. this has been fermenting in my drafts so uh hereee. its very fluffy and cute and so much grandpa barnes code. i whole heartily believe hes such a cutie like you can not convince me otherwise. stream txt love language tho! i rmbered i had this while i was kinda making a txt series avengers masterlist so uhhhh yeah! ALSO I HAD NO CLUE THAT HUENING KAI WAS TRYNA LEARN MY YOU-OLOGY IM BLUSHINGGG

Tag List (For Mr. James Buchanan Barnes is open)

@bbsbrina @herejustforbuckybarnes @barnesandbouquets

[yoursaltyqueen]

Soft little things you’d do living with Bucky

1. Bucky does laundry at 7AM like it’s a sacred ritual.

He says it calms him — the folding, the warm air from the dryer, the order in it. You wake up to the scent of clean cotton and find him humming to himself, sleeves pushed up, sorting your socks like it’s a military operation.

“You’re doing the thing again,” you mumble, standing in the doorway, barely awake. “What thing?” “Matching my socks by pattern and softness.” He shrugs, not looking up. “They feel better together.”

2. Sunday mornings = pancakes. Always.

It’s a rule, apparently. No weapons, no missions, just pancakes and the two of you in pajamas while Frank Sinatra plays on vinyl. Bucky claims his recipe is “a Barnes family secret,” but you’re 98% sure he found it on Pinterest.

“You’re getting better at flipping them,” you say, leaning against the counter. “Flipping is a metaphor for life,” he says, deadpan. You blink. “Are you okay?” “I’ve had three cups of coffee and I love you. That’s what’s wrong with me.”

3. He’s weirdly obsessed with moisturizers now.

Something about taking care of his skin makes him feel normal. He reads labels. Googles ingredients. Has opinions on SPF. You catch him once, in the mirror, applying eye cream with comical precision.

“You judging me?” he asks, one brow raised. “A little,” you say, smiling. “But mostly I’m just proud.” “Good. Your boyfriend’s hot and hydrated.”

4. Reading nights = your legs in his lap, always.

He’s not a fast reader. But he takes his time, underlining passages, rereading the same line until it means something. Sometimes he reads aloud. Sometimes he just traces circles on your knee while you read next to him in silence.

“You wanna hear something sad?” he murmurs, finger tapping a line. “Always.” He reads it out loud. A quote about finding pieces of yourself in someone else. Then looks at you. “I think I found too many of mine in you.”

5. Bedtime is his softest hour.

He always gets in first. Opens the blankets for you. Waits. And when you crawl in beside him, he pulls you close like muscle memory — hand resting on your lower back, breath slow against your neck.

“I never slept much before you,” he whispers. “And now?” “Now I dream.”

6. He always makes your coffee. Even if he doesn’t sleep.

He doesn’t drink it often—says it makes him jittery—but every morning, without fail, your mug is waiting. Sometimes he even writes dumb little notes on napkins. “For the most dangerous thing in this kitchen (you).”

“You didn’t have to,” you say, blinking sleep from your eyes. “I like knowing I did something for you before your day even started.”

7. He makes playlists for you.

Not modern ones. Not Spotify or YouTube. Bucky burns actual CDs or writes out handwritten song lists and labels them like mixtapes. Vol. 1: For When You Miss Me. Vol. 2: For When You Can’t Sleep. He shrugs it off, but you find him smiling whenever one of his songs plays in your car.

“You put Sinatra next to Taylor Swift?” “It’s called range,” he mutters. “And I stand by it.”

8. Rainy days make him soft.

When it rains, Bucky slows down. He curls up on the couch with you, a blanket tucked under his chin, wet hair still damp from walking the dog. You watch shows he doesn’t understand, and he watches you.

“What?” you ask when you catch him staring. He shrugs. “I like the sound of rain. And your laugh. They go together.”

9. He keeps your gloves in his coat pocket. Always.

It started because you kept forgetting them. Now it’s habit. When your fingers get cold, he doesn’t even ask—just reaches into his pocket, pulls them out, and slips them on your hands himself. Carefully. Like he’s dressing a porcelain doll.

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, watching him fuss with the cuffs. “You’re freezing,” he counters. “Let me take care of you.”

10. He tries to bake for you. He is... not good at it.

You come home once to find flour everywhere, three exploded muffins, and Bucky holding a tray of what look like burnt hockey pucks.

“I followed the recipe,” he grumbles. “Where did it go wrong?” “Probably when I got distracted thinking about how happy you’d be if they were good.” Your heart melts. You eat every single one.

[cuteandhughesy]

Wait if your still doing your 1000 special could I get 4. Voice notes they send you with Jarvis? I feel like they would be so funny and random but also very loving 💕 congrats btw

vol 2 prompt no. 4: voice notes they send you

very soon after getting into a relationship with seth jarvis, you learned he wasn’t a big texter. it made sense—he was always busy at the rink or gym, and most of the time was too busy to take the time to sit and respond to a variety of questions and messages from multiple people.

but, he never wanted to leave you hanging. instead of texting you, seth was favourable to sending voice notes. and let’s just say 9 times out out 10, they were nothing but utter nonsense.

one: i saw this uhm.. (a pause while the sound of gym equipment echos in the background) toy on amazon this morning, and I think echo would really like it. it’s got this like furry tail and it zips around all by itself. anyways, didn’t want to forgot so thought i’d shoot you a message. OH, and also let’s have fish tacos for dinner

two: svechy just tried to tell me white chocolate was better than milk chocolate. can you fucking believe that baby?

three: I think we should get a couple goldfish

other time though, seth was more sincere and gentle with his voice notes. usually after a rough game, half way across the country—sitting in some hotel bed with his voice tucked next to his head on the pillow. talking to you through a voice note like you’re there with him.

four: hey honey, I know you probably watched the game tonight and saw that hit. I also know you’re probably worried but i’m okay. I stared at a picture of you and instantly became healed (you can hear his boyish smirk) anyways, you’re probably sleeping but just wanted to say I love you and miss you and—(voice note ends as andrei throws a pillow at him)

five: I was thinking when I get back from the roady that we should check out one of the new places downtown. I need to spend some time with my girl. are you feeling more italian or something different?

six: they’re playing reruns of friends on the hotel tv, and it made me think of you.

seven: got those goals for you baby (winks even though you can’t see him)

and then sometimes he’s just a little shit with his voice notes. and you’d never admit it though, but they’re usually you’re favourites—because they’re just so seth.

eight: babe, you left your bra at my place (teammates whistling loudly in the background, teasing him) just wanted to let you know. I know it’s your favourite. see you later

nine: i’m so fucking hard right now babe. I can’t wait to get home and fuck you

ten: have you heard that new drake song? shots kinda tough

eleven: can you come open your door? i’ll be there in 2 minutes and i’ve got dinner and flowers

—

(unedited)

[quitesins]

Pro Hero!Bakugou x Criminal!Reader

Masterlist | Pt.2

Tags: Sfw, Drabble?, Pro Hero!Bakugou, Criminal!Reader, Female!reader, Reader is implied to be younger and homeless, dialogue heavy, ooc?

This happens a right after the events of vol 42/the epilogue, this is sort of a snapshot of an already established dynamic in my head

“You look miserable.”

He seems surprised to see you. Which is weird. Dynamight has always been so hyper aware of his surroundings, especially when you, half-criminal, half-comrade, show up.

“Piss off.” Dynamight grunts, locking the doors to his car and turning away from you. His expression is as frustrated as ever, but there’s something solemn underneath.

“You get rejected?” It’s just a joke, but he stiffens like you’ve hit the mark. “Holy shit, you did?” You can’t let him go, not with this in your pocket now.

He pushes past, albeit gentler than the times you’ve felt him body check you before. He grumbles something, uncharacteristically quiet.

“What?” He’s at his door now, and though you’ve already trespassed far into his front garden, it feels a bit invasive to peer into his home. “I just never expected you to be interested in that stuff.”

Dynamight’s keys jingle in the silence where he doesn’t answer, his door opens and as always you look away. He stands too still for a second too long, then sighs, turning to invite you in.

You tilt your head, eyeing him warily. He doesn’t let you ruminate or even ask, his hand on yours, tugging you in himself.

You’ve only ever been in the doorway, so following him past the foyer, taking your shoes off like you’re about to get comfortable, feels strange and unnerving.

Dynamight slumps onto his couch, head tilted back and eyes scrunched closed. You stand there awkwardly, suddenly aware of how different his life is to yours.

His house is nice. Decorated like a magazine, tidier than you’d expect from a bachelor. His tv looks expensive and even the open kitchen you can see in your peripheral, is stocked top to bottom in gadgets you know cost more than anything you own.

“Stop gawking.” Dynamight’s voice, for the first time, startles you. “‘M not offering you tea.”

“I wasn’t— shut up!” You like bothering him, but this time you become defensive. “Why am I here?”

“Yeah?” Dynamight snorts, an eye winking open to look you over. “Why are you?”

It must be something psychological, to have you in his space for once. You like to spook him when he’s on missions, at stores you could only steal from, and even at the cafe by his agency he likes to frequent. But this is his home. His living room. This isn’t the no man’s land of public space. Where it’s easy for you to dominate, since he’s got a reputation (barely) and all sorts of hero rules to follow.

You straighten your back, pulling a usb out your pocket and throwing it at him, without force but in the direction of his head. “You wanted intel.”

“And you couldn’t have waited till the morning?” He scoffs, catching the thing before it hits his face. “Gone to the agency?”

“Unless you grant me full immunity.” You shrug, knowing he won’t.

“Fat chance.” Dynamight inspects the usb. “This not gonna brick up my entire computer?”

“I don’t know.” He looks at you like you’re stupid. “I just took it.”

Dynamight frowns, then pulls out a case from under his coffee table. You’re still standing there uncomfortably, so he rolls his eyes and prompts you to get close. You don’t like following his order, and you can tell he isn’t used to it either. Normally you’re the one openly pushing past his personal space, listening to nothing he says. You lean on the back of his sofa, peering over his shoulder.

The case opens to a laptop, one that uses his fingerprint to unlock. You watch curiously as he taps away at something you don’t understand, before pushing the usb in and lighting up the screen in new colours.

Dynamight becomes quiet, focussed as he sifts through files and documents you still don’t get. You had wanted to continue on your prodding and ask why he looked like such a misery tonight, but his intensity makes it difficult to interrupt.

“Fucking hell.” Dynamight sounds almost in awe. “Where the hell did you get this.”

“I just took it.” You’re petulant. “I said.”

“[Name].” The hero’s body turns, and he stares with new authority. “Don’t piss me off.”

You feel small. Even with you standing over him, even with him in his casual wear, you’re reminded he’s a hero. One that lets you get away with a lot, but still a man of power you could never fight.

“Who rejected you?” You’re brattish. “You didn’t say.”

The non sequitur pisses him off, but he doesn’t want to have you running. “It wasn’t— Deku. I asked him to join my agency.”

That somehow makes you feel better. And equal. Like you’ve both just had terrible days.

“I saw him once. A friend, from when I was little, goes to UA.” You almost distract Dynamight with your reminiscing, but he catches it, frowning and prompting you to answer his original question.

“That guy you were tailing.” You remember a few months ago, recognising Dynamight in stealth gear, in a place where you hadn’t expected him to be. “The one with the red hair.” The descriptor makes something click in Dynamight’s head. His eyes go wide and wider with your next words. “He left a window open.” You shrug. “I snuck in.”

“Alone?” Dynamight wipes his head with his hands, frustrated. You think you’ve done something wrong. “Do you have any idea how—”

“I can take it back!” Interrupting him, you reach out to snatch the usb. You feel scolded and it stings.

He grabs your wrist before you can, you look at him with such sourness and he sighs. “Just… don’t do it again. Leave the hero work to me.”

You’re still pouting, embarrassed.

“You did good. Okay?” His hands give yours a squeeze. “You did really fucking good.” A part of you wants that, his approval, but you pull away anyways.

“I have to go.” You’re already walking backwards to his corridor. He follows you though he knows can’t keep you any longer, he’s never been able to pin you down.

You shove your shoes on haphazardly, not caring about getting it on all the way. He has to unlock the door for you, but before he does he pulls his wallet out.

“How much?” There’s a few large notes in his hand. It’s jarring that he can walk around with so much cash in his pockets.

“Wait.” You stop him with your hands, shaking your head. “Can’t— not tonight— can’t have that much on me.”

Dynamight gives you a look, there’s pity in his eyes. He hesitates letting you go, shoving a 2000 yen note into your hands. “At least.”

The winter air hits you both when the door finally opens. It’s the kind that makes your muscles ache. You step out quickly, already making your way to the fence you hopped over to bother him in the first place.

Before you can lift yourself up, Bakugou calls out, voice uncomfortably gentle. “You got a place to sleep?”

“…No.”

Cut out of a second, there’s a moment where you think he’s wants to say something. But he doesn’t. Instead he just nods, letting you jump over his gate and run off, back into the night.

Because in my head there’s an already established dynamic, I can’t tell if this whole thing only makes sense to me since I don’t need it to be expressed in the details… I did try to add contextualising details but idkkkk eughhhh

[babextoken]

Get Below Me vol 1💘

Simp!RoommateVessel x Virgin!Fem!Reader

Fluffy fluffy fluffy expo- some mentions of male masturbation - Vessel’s a bit of a weirdo - shy!reader - Both are obsessed with other and weird about it - Vessel wants to be your first - pacing is weird but hey 🍍

Volume 2 (the smut chapter) will be out this weekend. Happy Valentine’s Day!

taglist: @lifemod17 @glitterghost @inv3ga @adenobabe @jeriiicho @milk--bones @myaudiocommentary @horsebiologist @intake-of-breath @fruitsandcheese @0hg00dgirl @goosepond69 @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @lynzeequitlollygagging @thatxxjiyong-ssi @cloudy-soul @daddysaidbringthethunder @evisnotok @cheomain @chaosandchaos @sage-m-sepia @dreamer-lost-in-wonderland

The minute Vessel sat down on the loveseat, nothing mattered. Your roommate dominated your attention. The show you were binging? Stupid. The rabbit hole you were falling down on your phone to occupy you while you were watching tv? Irrelevant. Your eyes were on him. You didn’t care if he walked around without a shirt on. Guys could do that. And you’ve survived seeing him in tighter sweats, surely. Just breathe.

You realize you’re biting your lip when he gets your attention.

“Are you alright?”

That’s when you also realize you’re eye fucking him while he plays on his Switch Lite. He’s making zero effort to be hot and yet…no. Save that thought for later.

“I…just got…” think think think “…really hungry! Be right be back. heh!”

You scurry into the kitchen, trying not to clamp your thighs together for relief as you “look for snacks.” You’re taking some deep square breaths to calm down when…

“Looking for snacks in the dark?” Vessel asks flatly after switching on the kitchen light. He’s leaning in the doorway, taking up more space than normal. His arm is resting against the top of the frame. Blocking you in. “Bit difficult that.”

You gulp and shake your head. “I uhm…using the light on my phone.”

“Your phone’s on the sofa.”

Fuck. He isn’t even looking at you like a predator. Hes looking at you like…Like he’s confused. Because he is. You did this often—scurrying away when there was no real conversation happening. Did you not like him? Certainly you did. There was no denying the mutual attraction but something kept you away. Maybe you were scared of silence. But what you should have been scared of was the thing that scared Vessel: how badly he needed you. No man of his age should “simp.” He’s a successful, intelligent, well-off guy. Finally he has to ask, calling out to you as you walk back into the living room.

“Why don’t you bring guys here? I genuinely wouldn’t mind if you did,” he says knowing full well he’d cry himself to sleep if you brought home some man and had to see the very same “some man” leave in the morning. He sits back on the chair across from you and waits to hear what you have to say, even though you look mortified.

“I…I don’t really date.”

Oh. This is a surprise. “Do you not…are you….”

“Hah it’s…no I’d like to. I just…I’m a late bloomer is all. Virgin…”

Vessel shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. “No worries. That’s not a bad thing necessarily. But…are you..I don’t know. Lonely? You’re so gorgeous and…”

“You think I’m gorgeous?” Your cheeks warm up.

He blushes and looks down. “Yes.” Vessel shrugs with a shy smile. “I…I doubt you even think…remotely similar to m—“

“No Ves, you…you’re… I think you’re so ha—.” You don’t even finish your sentence. He should know. He has to know. “Anyways. I’m at the point in my life where I want my first time to be with someone I’m sure about. A lot of my baggage is from just…giving ‘it’ up and by ‘it,’ I mean ‘me.’” You sigh heavily and look away. “Not trying to be prude about these things. I’m just scared. Scared of choosing the wrong person and ruining that part of my life. The uncertainty kills me.”

Vessel leans his elbows on his knees and looks at you lovingly. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Honestly it’s admirable but…you can’t live in fear. Easier said than done but…”

There’s a knowing look between you two. It’s a delicate, tender moment. “Ves…”

“Hmm?”

“Why don’t you bring girls over?”

Silence. He chews at his lip and sighs. “Hey…listen…” he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to avoid that question by asking you something that makes me feel just as awkward.” You don’t protest. Instead you shift a little and nod. “What if we, like, you and me…would you go out with me sometime? Maybe? Like for…fun?”

“Wow Ves, for fun? You know how to treat a girl,” you snicker.

He rolls his eyes and groans, rubbing his face hard with his wide hands. “Don’t be daft, honestly.” He shakes his weary head and bites his lip, taking in your pretty face. “Just put me out of my misery and reject me already. Can I take you out sometime?”

Yeah, ok. “Reject him.” You couldn’t if you tried. You two took things slow. Almost painfully slow, but this was important to both of you. Very much so to Vessel, but he didn’t want to show it too much. He wanted to be brave for you. A perfect boyfriend, if you’d allow him that. It was all going to plan.

From the moment you inquired about the room for rent, he was drawn to you. But again, he couldn’t show that. How creepy would that look? A tall and imposing but otherwise gentle (on the outside) guy insisting that a pretty, single girl like you share his townhouse might raise eyebrows. He was cool. Aloof, but not apathetic. He wanted you in his house on your terms. That’s all. And as he hoped, you were falling for him. He was already there. Just biding his time until you caught up. Until then, it was night after night imagining how nice it would be to strike. To make the first move and just show you how shamelessly…how gleefully obsessed with you he is. Vessel spent so many nights fucking his own fist, staring at his closed bedroom door just willing you to catch him. But you were a good girl. You’d never barge in unannounced unless there was an emergency. So good. The best girl, in his estimation. Why couldn’t you barge in? Why couldn’t you be just a little more of the vixen Vessel knows is hiding underneath your surface.

It was Valentine’s Day. A five whole weeks since Vessel asked you out. That also meant five weeks of…tooth rotting happiness. You were beside yourself. You still had absolutely no idea how long he wanted this. Wanted you. And in his mind, the less you knew was better. He just wanted you to let it happen and accept that you were his. He was yours. And he wanted this night to be special.

[rebelfell]

✦ Stranger Things Masterlist ✦

My works generally feature a cis, fem reader with limited physical descriptors. Just by virtue of being written by me, they will likely be shy/inexperienced ‘cos I write what I know, y’know? There are individual warnings on each. If you come across something you think needs a warning, please let me know (gently, I am but a fragile soufflé ready to sink)

anything 🌶️ is marked with a*

EVERYTHING is 18+, MDNI for your sake and mine

The Third Date┃Part One┃Part Two~

eddie munson x anorgasmic!reader - 14k

Surrender┃Part One ┃Part Two*┃Part Three*

eddie munson x bi!reader x lesbian!chrissy cunningham - 18k

Bells Will Be Ringing┃Part One*┃Part Two*

crush!steve harrington x fem!reader x fwb!eddie munson - 16k

Hold Your Peace in Pieces┃TBD

engaged!rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader -

this summer is the apocalypse, pt II, pt III*, pt IV*, eddie’s interlude, part V, epilogue~, epilogue II~, epilogue III

thinking thoughts on eddie and an older!Harrington!reader (aka: stevie’s aunt has got it goin’ on)

for your viewing pleasure* vol. 1, vol. 2

series featuring pornstar!eddie and his director!reader

are you even listening to me?, cont’d, preq, preq II

bestfriend!eddie gets distracted by your… assets

working on my fitness, pt II, pt III

a gym meet cute w/ modern!eddie (neighbors au)

special delivery*

someone unexpected shows up to deliver your pizza

made for lovin’ you*

older!eddie makes a bad tinder date a whole lot better

hurry up and wait*

eddie wants his favorite toys to put on a good show

a public affair*

ex!eddie and you can’t seem to stay apart…even if he belongs to somebody else 💋

american engine*

truck smut for truck smut’s sake 🛻 (w/ steve)

shelter from the storm~

when the power goes out, your neighbor eddie checks in

under the influence

an edible loosens your lips in front of your frenemy, eddie

in the middle of the night*

boyfriend!steve helps to soothe what ails us🩸

haven’t had any complaints yet*

the trials and tribulations of giving van head over forty

game night* (surrender universe)

chrissy and eddie get extra competitive, you benefit 🃏

cold dry stone*

revenge fucking with gator 🐊

(parentheses)

just blatantly, shamelessly loving on eddie

you know my favorite thing about this?*

face-fucking, but make it ✨romantic✨

you’re not gonna tell on me, are you?

linecook!eddie can get away with anything 🚬

that Vanity Fair party was a lot~

actor!steve x assistant!reader x rockstar!eddie spice

buzzcut season, rockstar!eddie musing*

dmm, just embracing his shaved-head era…

I didn’t know you were into that…

you’ve been watching too many ghostface tiktoks 🔪

modern!wealthy!Steve? How’d you get in here?

steve spoils his girl in the midst of a hangover

wait, are you a…have you never?*

bigdick!steve x virgin!reader 🏕️

felt in need of some affection…

sweet!soft!eddie vignette

possessive.┃eddie shows you who you belong to

multiples.┃eddie wants you to arrive properly

urgent.┃eddie can do better than he can

hesitant.┃eddie and you try something new

how can you be sad on love’s birthday? 💌

a very flangsty valentine’s day w/ bestfriend!eddie

so wrong, it’s right, so right, it’s wrong 🎃

eddie munson x his best friend’s (ex?) girl

you’ve never seen gremlins? 🎃

it’s scary movie night at eddie’s house

you’re a what? (WCIL-verse) 🎃

modern!eddie bumps into you at a halloween party

how much of that can is left? 🦃

you + eddie + whipped topping

today is a no bones day 🦃

you and eddie in recovery mode

#index - landing pages for long form/multi-part blurbs & fics

#free write - bursts of writing based on images/other posts

#my moods - fic/character moodboards, (aka I spent too much time spent daydreaming on pinterest again)

#thrift shop eddie - short blurbs about all the odd and random gifts I would terrorize shower Eddie with if given the chance

© 2024 rebelfell All Rights Reserved. Any written work on this blog is my own and I do not consent for it to be copied, altered or re-posted in any form or to be fed into AI software.

[chackyxyooj]

Vol. 0 - A Prologue

The Introduction

╭──────────.★..─╮

Description: Different ways Mystreet boys find themselves participating in a one night stand and how it goes for them || HEADCANONS

Included: Dante, Blaze, Laurance, Gene, Zenix, Ein, Garroth, Vylad, Zane, Travis.

CW: Brief descriptions of character x reader interactions. All characters depicted in this work are above the explicit age of consent.

One Night Masterlist

╰─..★.──────────╯

Sexual Content Ahead: If uncomfortable with this type of content, please DNI! - Minors & Ageless Blogs DNI!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Type 1: No Strings Attached

Ft. Dante, Blaze, Laurance

He’s most likely the one to approach you

If you indulge him and flirt back you’ll catch him hook, line and sinker.

At this point he wants you. He doesn’t want to go the rest of the night never knowing what it’s like to have your taste on his tongue.

A few charming looks combined with a shameless amount of flirting easily convinces you to go home with him.

Once he has you, he’ll make sure to get a proper taste.

He’s gone through the wringer enough times to know how to make the most of the short time he has, and he’ll be damned if he leaves you feeling unsatisfied.

Feeling you, kissing you, making sure you feel good. He’ll put in the works.

You’re pleasantly surprised with how he treats your body. That is, he didn’t let up until he knew you reached your climax - multiple times, even.

But at the end of it all, he is someone who can separate his feelings from the act

He’ll linger back for pillow talk if you’d like, but if you leave immediately after then that’s cool too. He’s not one to judge.

Dante grips your waist and pulls your hips flush against his own. “You can feel it, yeah? Can feel how badly I want you?” He can’t help himself from gently rolling his hips against you and pulling a moan from your lips. It almost made up for all the teasing you forced him to endure earlier in the night.

“Surprised?” Blaze gives a short chuckle as he looks down at your pinned form beneath him. With an experimental thrust of his hips, Blaze relishes the way your body trembles with pleasure. “You don’t gotta act surprised. I said I’d make you feel good!”

Laurance pulls away from you with a satisfied hum. He can’t help but want to look at your pleasure filled expression while you slowly come down from your high. “You look so fucking hot when you cum. It makes me want to see it over and over again. What do you say? Can you cum for me one more time?”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Type 2: Tall, Dark and Brooding

Ft. Zenix, Gene, Ein

You’re the one who has to approach him

The longer you talk with him, the more it stirs a deep rooted desire inside of him

He wants you, but it’s different from how he’s wanted others before you

When the idea of spending the night together comes around he’s hesitant, but his new found desires bring him to make an exception. Just for you.

When he has you beneath the sheets, he’s greedy. He takes all that you have to offer and then some, but this was your idea in the first place.

Sucking on your skin, nipping at your sensitive places, making you squirm beneath his desperate and needy hands. ‘Craving’ hardly describes how much he loves how you feel against him.

When the end of the night arrives, he isn’t keen on letting you go so soon.

He’ll seduce you as many times as it takes to make sure you stay the night.

This was, after all, your idea in the first place.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you take my cock like this.” Zenix’s thoughts spill out in a breathless laugh. He runs his thumb across your bottom lip and grins when he smudges your lipstick across your cheek. “That’s right. Keep taking me like the good little slut you are.”

Gene grabs your wrist and pulls it away from your face, pinning you against the wall with a grin. “Don’t close your eyes. I want to see every expression you make with that pretty little face of yours.” Gene doesn’t bother waiting for your reply before pushing himself deep into your pussy. And fuck, if this isn’t paradise then he doesn’t need it. All he needs is you.

Ein runs his hands down the length of your thigh, his nails digging into your skin and leaving streaks of red in their wake. He loves the way your body quivers beneath his touch. It’s only fitting that he gets to mark you up. You’re the one who wanted this in the first place. A grin pulling at his lips, Ein leans down and lets his teeth hover the skin of your neck. “You don’t mind if I take a bite, do you?”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Type 3: How Did We Get Here?

Ft. Garroth, Vylad, Zane, Travis

It doesn’t matter who approached who, but the reason for approaching was probably for something other than a one night stand

When the end of the night is in sight, he hardly even realises that he’s been talking to you for hours. Time really flew by!

The idea of going home together is something he brings up as a joke so he doesn’t seriously consider it, but to his surprise you take him up on it.

He knows he’s not the type who can separate his feelings from the act but he can’t help himself. He really wants to spend just a few more moments together.

Somehow, in some way, the two of you leave and end up in his bed.

Things are moving faster than he thought they would, but at the same time he can’t help but feel like things are moving too slowly. He needs you.

Being as this is something he doesn’t usually do, his hands and lips are cautious.

You can feel how much he wants you and you’re more than happy to guide him along - something he’ll be forever grateful for.

His mind will undoubtedly be consumed by you.

The way you taste. How great you feel when you grind against him. It makes him throw caution to the wind - taking you and filling his room with his own sounds of pleasure.

When all is said and done he wants to pull you in and hold you close as he falls asleep, but if you’re not willing to indulge him then he won’t force you to stay.

But after tonight there’s no doubt in his mind that sex is an emotional affair.

“Are you… ah…” Garroth can feel himself melting into your touch. The hand you hold against his face is so warm. So calming. It almost makes him forget that his cock is buried deep inside of you. Almost, but not quite. “I can’t think straight. That’s how good you’re making me feel.”

Vylad brushes back your hair and trails kisses down the side of your face. When he pulls away he immediately follows your gaze down to where your bodies connect. To feel your walls around him is one thing, but watching his cock disappear into you makes the pleasure nearly unbearable. “I really want you to cum for me. Can you tell me how I can make you cum?”

“You feel so damn good but I… I don’t know where to put my hands.” Confesses Zane between shallow breaths and quiet groans. It isn’t long before you pull your lips off of his length with a quiet laugh, making the boy’s face flare up in embarrassment. Even in the midst of such an intimate moment, Zane can’t help love how exposed he feels beneath your gaze.

“H-hey… why’d you stop? I-it felt really good, you know?” Travis pouts at the loss of your touch. He really enjoyed the way you were grinding against him, so to have it torn away was like torture! But what came next, the sight of you carefully peeling your clothes off of your body right in front of him, it more than made up for that loss. “Oh fuck… you’re gorgeous.”

[karasukarei]

Wind Breaker Drama CD vol. 1 – Fuurin, Memories of a Summer (Part 1)

I received a translation request for the drama CD that came with the first anime DVD/Blu-ray, thank you! It's quite long so I'll be doing it in sections. You can listen to it here!

I'll just be doing the script, if there's anyone keen to time it with the audio feel free to hit me up! Video editor found!

Translation masterpost here!

Note: I took some liberties with translations this time to make it read more smoothly. As always, if there’s any mistakes, feel free to let me know!

Shorthand because some names are really long:

Sakura – Sakura

Nirei – Nirei

Suo – Suo

Sugishita – Sugi

Kiryuu – Kiryuu

Tsugeura – Tsuge

Hiiragi – Hii

Umemiya – Ume

Scene 1 – 0:09~3:14

Nirei: Wahhh!

Tsuge: The blazing sun! The sparkling waves!

Nirei: This is the feeling of summer!

Tsuge: Kuu, I’m getting excited!

Kiryuu: How are they so full of energy? I’m about to melt~

Suo: Ahaha! It’s definitely really hot today!

Hii: They’re probably the kind to use up all their energy in the morning. (t/n: not quite sure if I heard this right; feel free to let me know if this is wrong!

Kiryuu: Nirei-chan, those are trendy sunglasses!

Nirei: Ehehe, I like this style! Eh, I’m getting too carried away, aren’t I?

Suo: I think it’s fine to go for a different vibe from usual! Of course, the usual Nirei-kun is great too!

Nirei: Thank you very much! (t/n: WHAT A PURE GOOD BOY)

Sakura: *grunts of anguish*

Hiiragi: Sakura? You’ve been quiet since just now, what’s wrong?

Kiryuu: Oh yo~? (t/n: THIS IS SO CUTE THANK YOU TOSSHIIIII) Sakura-chan, your face is all red, are you ok?

Tsuge: Do you have heat stroke?! You can have some of my special sports drink to replenish your fluids!

Suo: It’s all good! Sakura-kun doesn’t have heat stroke!

Nirei or Tsuge (edit: Thanks @/pikiiro!): Really?

Suo: Yup! He probably just can’t take the surrounding atmosphere.

Nirei: Surrounding?

Kiryuu: Ooh~ (t/n: this is with a cute down intonation <3) There’s a couple there, there’s a couple there, ah, there’s also a couple here.

Nirei: Speaking of which, it seems that this beach is popular as a date spot for couples!

Suo: You’ve just become embarrassed, haven’t you Sakura-kun!

Sakura: DAAAAAAAAAA

Kiryuu: Sakura-chan is so cute~

Sakura: Shut up!

Hiiragi: You guys shut up.

Suo: Ah yes. Hiiragai-san, thank you for inviting us today!

Hiiragi: It’s fine, sorry for the short notice. Umemiya suddenly asked to invite you all.

Nirei: But it’s amazing isn’t it! He won first place in a lucky draw at the shopping street!

Hiiragi: That guy does tend to win these lucky draws… (t/n: Ume-chan can you gimme your luck for my ichiban kuji draws)

Tsuge: It even comes with a stay at the inn, I’m all fired up! (t/n: I can’t hear exactly what he said, it was either 2 or 3 nights’ stay. As for the inn itself, think of it as renting out a summer house where you can do whatever you want, it’s not a ryokan where there are people at your beck and call.)

Sakura: Anyway, where is that Umemiya?!

Suo: Now that you mention it, he hasn’t come yet.

Hiiragi: That guy, he’s late again… (t/n: rip Hiiragi’s stomach)

Ume: Hey everyone!

Nirei: Umemiya-san! Good morning!

Ume: Sorry about making everyone wait!

Sakura: You’re (“omae”) the one who invited everyone you shouldn’t be late!

Sugi: It’s not “omae”, it’s “Umemiya-san”!

Ume: Sugishita, don’t fight here ok? (t/n: he sounds like he’s talking to his pet dog LMAO)

Sakura: Also! Why is this guy here?!

Kiryuu: That’s true, Sugi-chan seems to hate stuff like this…

Ume: I invited him! Since it’s summer, let’s do stuff befitting our springtime of youth! (t/n: ok I took some liberties with this translation, but I think this sounds cooler)

Sugi: Thank you very much for inviting me.

Ume: I told you guys when you entered the school right? “This summer let’s all go to the beach!” Don’t you guys remember?

Sakura: He was serious about that?

Hiiragi: This guy is always serious.

Ume: I invited Kaji and gang too but they had plans today… next time it’ll be all of Fuurin!

Nirei: Isn’t that a tall order?

Ume: Anyway let’s get into the sea! Don’t you guys find it hot just standing around here?

Hiiragi: We were waiting for you!

Ume: Oh yeah, that’s right!

Hiiragi: *groans of acidic anguish*

Suo: Hiiragi-san, it’ll be nice if you won’t need to use your stomach medicine today ^^; (t/n: reading back on this it sounds as though he’s telling Hiiragi not to use his medicine. It’s closer to “man, I sure hope you won’t end up being forced to use your medicine today” – I hope this makes sense x_x)

Nirei: Ah, hahaha…

Scene 2 – 3:14~4:59

Hiiragi: I think we can leave our stuff here.

Nirei: Eh, is that so, Sakura-san?

Kiryuu: Hmm, what is it, what’s up?

Suo: It seems that this is Sakura-kun’s first time at the beach!

Tsuge: That’s rare!

Sakura: Is it that bad? It’s not like I had any reason to come anyway…

Ume: Isn’t that fine! Since it’s your first time, it means that you can start to have fun here from now on!

Sakura: *gulps of embarrassment*

Ume: Hehe, make memories together with us. Hey everyone, let’s go!

Sakura: Oi, don’t pull me!!!

Kiryuu: Ooh- They’ve left.

Hiiragi: *sighs* You guys go too.

Nirei: Hiiragi-san, aren’t you going?

Hiiragi: We need someone to watch our stuff.

Nirei: Then I’ll stay behind. We can’t leave Hiiragi-san to take care of our stuff!

Hiiragi: Don’t sweat on it, we can take turns later.

Kiryuu: Ah, I’ll be staying behind so it’s ok~ I’m not going into the sea~

Tsuge: You’re not, even though we came all the way here?

Kiryuu: Hmm, I don’t like getting all stick from the seawater, and I also haven’t cleared my login bonuses today~ (t/n: this man has his priorities right)

Nirei: As expected of Kiryuu-san, your resolve is firm!

Tsuge: He’s displaying his virtue here! (t/n: the literal translation was “I can smell his virtue” but it’s… kinda weird lmao)

Suo: I’ll be staying behind too.

Nirei: Suo-san, you too?

Hiiragi: By the way, you guys are wearing parkas on top of your rash guards, isn’t it hot? (t/n: think of a light beach jacket, not a literal winter parka)

Suo: I don’t want to get sunburned!

Tsuge: Oh, that’s a virtue too! That’s great, I want to learn more about everyone’s virtue!

Suo: Eh… aren’t you going into the sea? (t/n: I see what you did there Suo)

Tsuge: Oh yes! Come Nirei-kun, let’s go!

Nirei: Yes!

Hiiragi: For crying out loud… I’ll be leaving our stuff to you guys.

Suo: Of course! Please take care!

Kiryuu: Everyone has so much energy~

Suo: Yes, it does seem that way.

[wineinfused-lipstick]

Yuppy rant forgive me and my big mouth

if that 2 and 1/2 minute teaser had me jumping out of my skin how the fffuuck am I supposed to wait 132 days for vol 1😭REFFFF DO SOMETGING no but like ugh you know how good of a watch this shows gonna be guys I know “water found in ocean” kind of statement but i don’t think I’ve ever been so tranced with a show this is monumental and it’s gonna be even better x1000 when we get the confirmation byler kiss and reveal that it’s been planned from early seasons. Like every time I even just get a will scene I’m genuinely gonna go insane and my breath is gonna be held for as long as it needs to be I can’t get enough of this fuckass show with these perfectly crafted characters

[jukkaricity]

Companion banter with Alectris - Lucanis Dellamorte edition vol. 2

I forgot I had more of these, they were loads of fun to write, so I might get back to it. <3

Alectris: So that whole “mage-killer’ thing. 

Lucanis: Are you worried about it being a personal preference?

A: I am not sure? Seems like a poor choice of career specialization if most of your mages are either Crows or live in a Circle?

L: You’re worried I may be out of work? 

A: I guess that’s how this sounds.

L: I would like to remind you that we share a border with Tevinter. 

***

Lucanis: It was Caterina’s idea actually. 

L: It’s a prestigious thing and Tevinter contracts have always brought in good coin. 

A: Ah, beloved Imperium ensuring you never run out of contracts.

A: You need to tell me about your jobs some time. Maybe I can put the paper headlines on some of them. 

***

Alectris: Heir mentioned that they never trained you. 

Lucanis: That’s true. Both me and Illario got our lessons straight from Caterina. 

A: So, if she’s not a mage killer, how did you learn? 

A: I feel like learning how to kill a mage on the job is not the best idea. 

L: Oh, no. We had to kidnap a mage from the Circle for that. 

A: You’re joking. Right? 

A: Right!?

***

Alectris: I got that vintage you’ve been asking about. Anything special about it? 

Lucanis: Not really no, it actually tastes terrible. You wouldn’t catch a Crow drinking it. 

L: But it’s really good in Braciole. 

***

Lucanis: That tune you’ve been humming sounds familiar. 

Alectris: Last time we were in Treviso and we passed by that puppet show in the market? I can’t get it out of my head. Shame we couldn’t stay and watch the whole play. 

L: I remember now. A very loose interpretation of “The Barber of Salle” if I recall. 

A: Well, it’s no Imperial Theater but they got the singing better than I expected. 

***

Alectris: So, Lucanis. How much do you think I would be worth in a contract? 

Lucanis: I… excuse me? 

A: What? Is it too vain for you that I’m curious how much my life could be worth? 

A: And don’t worry, I don’t think anyone would bother with me if it’s more than 10 andris. 

L: You’re a mage. You’d be worth at least 500 for that alone. 

***

Alectris: Lucanis? Do you think you could teach me to throw knives? 

L: Throw knives? Are the elements not enough for you now? 

A: It’s always good to expand one’s range, don’t you agree? 

***

Lucanis: So that crate of fruits in the kitchen. 

Alectris: I’m sorry. Couldn’t find a basket. 

A: I thought it might be silly to wait with those figs I promised. Seems like I’m racking up favors with you anyway. 

L: I’m not keeping a ledger yet. But if you’d like to help out with the cebollas… we could call it even. 

[pearynice]

✨It's here!!!! As a thank you for 800 followers, (way before I thought I'd be able to get it out) more Demi/Virgin! Eddie✨

I don't think I can overstate how schmoopy this is. It's like... a lot. Even for me.

Eddie is well aware that he’s probably in the honeymoon phase, or whatever the hell, but screw it, because he’s never been in the honeymoon phase before, and he’s going to savor every last drop. Because after that first night, Eddie kind of can’t keep his hands off of Steve. Just- knowing what Steve looks like- what his chest, his stomach, his arms, his thighs, his dick looks like under all those clothes- makes Eddie want to see him like that always. 

Because if Eddie had it his way, Steve would walk around naked all the time, would have goddamn Michelangelo following him around, making the David Vol. 2: the Steve, and no one would give a shit about Florence anymore, when there’s the Steve in Hawkins, Indiana. 

Because, how could he possibly not want to be in bed, with Steve, at all hours of the day and night? There is nothing about Steve Harrington that doesn’t set his nerve endings on fire. Eddie’s pretty sure he could get hard just from his boyfriend looking at him.

It’s not all sexual, of course, he’s not an ape- the casual, intimate touches they share are just as often non-sexual, and the frequency of those has not changed in the past three weeks.

Steve smiles at him when Eddie rests his head in his lap, when Eddie takes his hand, when he puts a cassette in the player he knows Steve likes. Smiles like each time it catches him off guard, like each time he’s delighted that Eddie’s still there, still paying attention.

Eddie never wants to stop paying attention. 

He wonders, if, after everything they’ve been through, after how long they’ve known each other, if two months is still too soon to say it. To tell Steve he loves him. Because if the cracks in the earth are anything to go by, their tomorrow is perilous at best, and Eddie knows he’d regret it forever if something… happened. Something far more permanent than his brush with death, and one of them left without Steve ever knowing how he felt. 

Eddie doesn’t really know what’s stopping him. They’ve already basically said it to each other, because what does you’re everything mean if not I love you? But the words catch in his throat each and every time Steve smiles at him. Or reaches for him. Or press kisses to his skin. Or combs his fingers through his hair, like he’s doing now.

Steve only combs his fingers through Eddie’s hair after they’ve fooled around. Because he “refuses to destroy Eddie’s beautiful curls”, and only after they’ve been properly frizzed out does Steve allow himself the indulgence. 

Eddie sincerely doesn’t care either way. He just likes feeling Steve’s fingers in his hair. 

“Nngg,” Eddie groans intelligently, as Steve brushes through the strands.

“We should get up,” Steve mumbles, fingers catching on a small snag. “We’re disgusting.”

Eddie curls tighter into him, clutching aggressively at Steve’s sides. “Don’t want you to stop.”

Steve hums. “I’ll wash your hair.” He offers. 

Eddie pauses. Evaluating. 

“Will you do that scalp massage thing?” He asks, into Steve’s chest. 

A kiss is placed to the top of Eddie’s head. “Sure, sunshine.”

Bastard. Steve knows that’s all he has to call Eddie to get him to do anything he wants. 

But… scalp massage. 

“Fine.” Eddie grumbles, and he rolls his sweat soaked body off of Steve’s bed. 

Steve laughs quietly, the bed creaking as he follows, and then his quick footsteps sound as he catches up. “You’re so easy.” Steve teases, coming up behind Eddie and squeezing his ass as they cross the threshold into the bathroom. 

Eddie swats half heartedly, only managing to broaden the grin on Steve’s face. 

They wait until steam starts emanating from the shower before stepping inside, and Steve’s hands find Eddie’s scalp at once. He pulls out the tangles and the loose hair, working far more slowly and gently than needed. 

Eddie’s spent dick gives a halfhearted twitch of interest, but nothing more, as Steve’s fingers begin to rub soothing circles into his scalp, massaging in the shampoo. 

His touch is firm, and steady, meticulously rubbing the crown of Eddie’s head, then his hairline, before trailing down behind his ears, until finally dragging his fingernails along the base of Eddie’s scalp. Steve then brings his hands back up to rub at Eddie’s temples. 

Eddie’s floating by the time Steve dips him back into the warm spray of the shower head, arm looped around Eddie’s waist as the other scrubs out the suds. 

Eddie could say it now. He feels it. Knows it. How could this not be love? 

But he also thinks that… he wants it to be perfect. To say it at the exact right moment. For it to be… romantic. And special. 

“Thank you.” He mumbles, when Steve pulls him back up. 

Steve kisses his temple. “Any time.”

Steve rubs conditioner through his ends, and they let it sit as Eddie rubs a washcloth over Steve’s skin, pausing at his shoulders to knead out the tension. 

“How’re you so good at this?” Steve all but groans, head lolling forward into the spray as Eddie rubs into the knot he’s been waring against since he first discovered it. 

“Guitarist fingers,” Eddie explains, and smiles at Steve’s subsequent groan. He trails further down his back, twisting his knuckles into the muscles around Steve’s spine. Steve dips forward further, encouraging Eddie down. He does, getting to the meat of Steve’s lower back. 

“Oh m’ god.” Steve slurs, and Eddie laughs, going even lower to massage his cheeks. 

“Good?” Eddie asks, and Steve only nods his head in agreement. 

Eddie grins a little wider, continuing to massage Steve’s fantastic, David-esque ass. And it makes Eddie think about it again. Because he knows, in theory, that it’s… enjoyable. Even though every time Eddie’s ever tried to do it himself it’s been- lackluster- to say the least. But Eddie also thought jerking off felt good, until he realized just how much better it feels to have Steve do it himself. So, maybe, it would be the same idea. 

For now, though, Eddie climbs his hands back up, kneads back over the muscles and the scar tissue until he’s returned to Steve’s shoulders, giving one last valiant push to the knot still there, before dropping his hands down to Steve’s hips. “Still with me?” He asks, gently, as Steve slowly blinks his eyes open. 

Steve hums, a sleepy, dopey smile on his face. He pulls Eddie into him, trading their positions to rinse the product out of his hair. 

He kisses Eddie between the eyebrows when he’s done. Once. Twice. 

“‘M tired.” Steve mumbles, against his forehead. “Let’s go to bed, hm?”

Eddie dries them both off. Carefully scrunches the water out of Steve’s hair, instead of tousling, just how he likes it. He pulls on Steve’s clothes, and grabs the soft, yellow sweater that he’d never admit to wearing. 

Not to anyone besides Steve, at least. 

Steve tucks them under the covers. Pulls Eddie into his chest. Sighs, deeply, when Eddie tangles their legs together. 

Steve’s always a goddamn barnacle the moment they get under the covers, latching onto Eddie no matter how warm the room is. But Eddie also thinks that maybe Steve’s never gotten a whole lot of this. So, despite their covers, Eddie clings back.

He presses his nose in between Steve’s pecs. Breathes in the smell of laundry detergent and soap. Steve hums again and Eddie can feel the vibrations in his face. 

“Was thinkin’” Steve mumbles, voice thick, hand clutched against Eddie’s back, “‘bout mmm, other, stuff. We could do. If you ever wanted to.”

“Other stuff?” Eddie repeats, because he’s not about to drag this conversation to where he’s at if Steve’s mind is somewhere else entirely. 

Steve’s legs twist further into his own. “Dunno. Your massage jus’ got me thinkin’ s’all.”

Eddie’s quiet for a moment. Waits to see if Steve will elaborate, but he doesn’t, he stays quiet, only the sounds of his breathing audible in the quiet room. 

“Like, sex?” Eddie questions, “like, real sex?”

Steve huffs a laugh. “I mean, yeah. That. Eventually. But, also just like. Um. I dunno what to call it. Is it still fingering if it’s with a guy?”

Eddie wonders how Steve ever got the reputation he did.

“Yeah, Stevie.” He replies, grinning like an idiot. “I think it’s still called fingering.”

Steve’s hand resumes its up and down drag across his back. “Mm, so, uh, thoughts? About that?”

Eddie snorts. “Um, I mean, I’ve like, tried it. Before.” He fidgets in Steve’s arms. “Like, on myself. And it was, uh, weird? I think maybe I couldn’t get the angle right. Or something.” Steve’s hand rubs down his back. “But, I’d want to try it again. With you.”

Steve pulls him a little closer. Kisses him, on the top of the head.

“I think it would be better with you.” Eddie adds. 

Steve’s fingers rubs soothingly across his back. Along the lines of his ribs. Familiar. Safe. 

“I think it would be good with you, too.” Steve murmurs.

*****

It’s two days later when Steve mentions it again. Eddie’s hovering over him, straddling his hips and beginning to crawl his hands up and under Steve’s shirt.

“Would you-” Steve sighs, breaking their kiss. His lips are swollen. His perfect hair is standing on end. And god, does Eddie love Steve’s hair. Loves that he’s the only one who gets to see it like this. “Want to- uh, try? What we talked about?” Steve continues, and Eddie has to drop his gaze back down to Steve’s face.

What they talked about. 

A blush creeps over Steve’s face. “If you- if you want to.”

Oh.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes, stupidly. “Yeah, yes.” He grins, leans forward to peck Steve on the lips. “Let’s do that, uh-” he leans back on his calves. “How d’you want me?” 

Eddie supposes laying down could feel the best, but-

“I was- I was actually thinking you could- you could do me. If you wanted to. I just-” Steve’s blush darkens. He glances away from Eddie’s eyes. “’S just how I was imagining it.”

Oh. Eddie sits, a little stunned. He’d assumed Steve would be in control. Would be the one to take charge. But now that Steve’s said it, Eddie doesn’t think he’d want it any other way. 

He dips forward, placing a firm kiss on Steve’s mouth. “Stevie, that sounds perfect.” And it’s actually, now, all that Eddie wants. To make Steve feel good. To be the person with Steve when he feels good.

Steve looks at him again. His blush is still dark. It’s climbed down his neck and is smattered across his chest, only visible through the unbuttoned neckline of his polo. 

It’s then that Eddie realizes- Steve is nervous. 

“Hey,” he whispers. Blindly, Eddie finds Steve’s hand. Clutches it tightly in his own. He leans close again. Brushes their noses together. “We’ll go slow. You let me know if it doesn’t feel good, okay?”

The hard line of Steve’s shoulders bends. The frown line that always appears between his brows when he’s anxious disappears. Steve closes the gap between them. Presses their lips together in a gentle kiss. “Okay.” He whispers.

✨Find the smut here on Ao3✨

(Sorry for the link. I don't want my content to get hidden.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (this is part 4)

✨Tagging some people who've said they like this series✨

@itsall-taken @stevesbipanic @starryeyedjanai @theheadlessphilosopher

(I think there are other people I'M SO SORRY IF I MISSED YOU my notes are so scattered)

[aois-amaterasu-painting]

MusiQ vol.13 - Aoi (August 2008)

葵 - the GazettE

Inner Landscapes

"It’s probably different from what you imagine…"

Shining a spotlight on Aoi not just as a member of the GazettE, but as an individual artist and human being—a perspective not easily discerned from his band persona.

THEME INTERVIEW - 1

"Friendship"

― Do you have many friends? "I think I have few."

― Has it always been that way? "Not really. Back in school, it felt like everyone was friends. I used to hang out in big groups. There were three middle schools in our area, but school or grade didn’t really matter. Since we’d known each other since we were little, we called each other by our first names instead of our last names."

― Do you still keep in touch with your school friends? "I do with some, but a lot of people have left Mie, and I’ve lost contact with some of them."

― What does 'friend' mean to you? "A friend is someone you don’t have to act polite around. I’m very considerate and sensitive, so a friendship where we can say things like, 'Aren’t you hungry? Let’s go grab a meal'. Friendship isn’t something you decide, like 'Let’s become friends.' It’s more like realizing one day that someone has always been there beside you."

― Are the band members different from friends? "It’s a bit different. With the members, sometimes I feel like I need to be considerate, and there are things that are hard to say. Sometimes I wonder, 'What do they think?' I think you shouldn’t let things get too casual. If you have a relationship where you just let things slide, it can affect the music… Also, it’s a little awkward. It’s hard for me to talk about a lot of things with the members."

― Do you have friends nearby now? "I don’t think there’s anyone in Tokyo I could truly call a friend."

― Isn’t that lonely? "It is. But I don’t really leave the house much. I can’t even go out to eat alone. During tours, I often just get food from convenience stores. When I go back to Mie, I meet up with my friends there. At home, I’m outgoing and go to various places. But in Tokyo, I can’t quite adapt. I hate crowds, and being a country boy at heart, I still struggle to get used to the city."

THEME INTERVIEW - 2

"Love"

― What are you like when you’re in love? "I’m considerate (laughs)."

― Men and women focus on different things when being considerate. What do you focus on? "Everything (laughs)."

― So, you must be very kind, then? "That’s why it’s exhausting. Honestly, I’m the kind of person who doesn’t want to do anything. I like to just relax and laze around."

― Then, would you prefer someone you don’t have to be considerate toward? "Not really. I think I’d end up being considerate with anyone. Maybe after 10 or 20 years together, it’d be different, but who knows?"

― Do you also pay attention to their emotional state, like asking, 'Are you okay?' "Ah, I do say things like that. Probably to the point of being annoying (laughs)."

― What do you look for in a woman? "I don’t want someone who expects too much from me. Like constantly saying 'Hey, hey!'—I’d rather not deal with that (laughs). I’d like her to keep some distance and not be too clingy. I’d like them to be able to live on their own strength (laughs)."

― So, you prefer independent women? "Yes, that’s definitely easier. Someone who isn’t working is already out of the question (laughs)."

― Not even working a part-time job? "I’d want her to work part-time at least four days a week (laughs). Since I’m often away, being attached all the time would be tiring. I think a person who’s independent, leaves me to my own space, and has her own opinions is attractive."

― Even if she’s a little strong-willed? "That’s totally fine. Though, if they’re outright combative, that’d be annoying (laughs)."

― You prefer someone who’s career-oriented? "Well, if they’re working six days a week, that’s a problem. If we can’t see each other at all, that’d be lonely, wouldn’t it?"

― (laughs) That’s tricky. "I’m waiting for someone like that (laughs)."

THEME INTERVIEW - 3

"Family"

― Can you tell us about your family structure? "My dad, mom, older sister, older brother, and me."

― Is there a big age gap between you and your older sister and brother? "Yes, there is. My sister is nine years older, and my brother is seven years older."

― What’s something you’re glad about being the youngest? "I’m not sure, but according to my sister and brother, my dad didn’t yell at me that much (laughs). 'Dad told you to at least go to high school, and you went, but when you quit after the first semester, he didn’t say anything.'"

― Were you raised surrounded by love? "Was I? I don’t know. Since there’s a big age gap, by the time I entered middle school, my sister wasn’t at home anymore, and my brother had already moved out. My dad was working away from home, so he only came back on weekends. I was mostly at home with just my mom."

― So, were you a mama’s boy? "Well, I don’t know. I love both my parents."

― Do you think you’ve been a good son to your parents? "No, I’d say I’m still mostly in the 'bad son' phase (laughs)."

― Do you call them sometimes? "I do. When there’s a final live in Tokyo, they come to stay at my place."

― Isn’t that a nice way to show gratitude? "Well, when they come over, food gets stocked up, so I think, 'Great!' (laughs)."

― Does your mom read the magazines you’re in? "Yes, she does. My parents’ house is crazy. When you open the front door, there’s Gazette stuff everywhere—posters, autographs, everything."

― Anything you’d like to say to your mom? "Mom, thank you for everything (laughs)."

― How do you think fans perceive you, Aoi? "Eh? I think i'm probably different from what they imagine. Fans probably think I'm very serious…"

― Are you very serious? "Yeah, well they might think I just sit in front of my PC all the time, making music. But no, no (laughs)."

― So it’s far from the truth? "Completely different (laughs). I guess it's because I only talk about that kind of stuff in interviews. Like, ‘I’m always making music’"

― But in reality? "In reality, I do sit in front of my PC, but I take a break every hour (laughs). I can’t keep my focus for long. I’ll suddenly go play darts and then think, ‘Let’s have some coffee.’"

― I get it. You want to take breaks constantly. "Exactly. I spend so much time on breaks that the day just flies by (laughs). Also, I don’t get started unless there’s a deadline looming. That hasn’t changed since the days of summer vacation homework."

― Like panicking on August 30th or 31st? "I really rush then. That’s why I often say I pull all-nighters, but that’s only when I’m pushing myself at the last minute. I’m making music now, but it’s hard to get started. So, I try to meditate sometimes."

― Really? "Well, it’s more like zoning out while watching TV (laughs). I’m always thinking about music. But unless I solidify the image in my mind first, I can’t start. If I don’t carefully plan it, things won’t fit together, and I hate that. If even one part feels lame, it really bothers me. I want to put out something I’m truly satisfied with. Maybe that’s why people think I’m serious.

― How do you unwind at home? "Basically, any time I’m not sitting at my PC (laughs). I used to work in the living room, but when I turned around and saw the bathroom or other distractions, it was hard to focus. So now I’ve moved all my equipment to a plain room near the front door."

― The bathroom is a distraction? "The bath is amazing, right? Don’t you feel refreshed? It’s great, but if I’m not careful, I’ll end up having a beer after my bath. And then it’s game over—I just go to bed. But I usually come up with songs in the bath."

― Then it’s an amazing space, isn’t it? "Yeah, but it has its risks too, so it’s a double-edged sword. But when I’m in the bath, I think that’s when I’m the most 'in the zone."

― In the zone? "In my mind, yeah. I’m not actually dancing in the bathroom. In my mind, I’m having an intense live performance. Of course, it’s for a new original song."

葵 - the GazettE

Inner Landscapes

"It’s probably different from what you imagine…"

Shining a spotlight on Aoi not just as a member of the GazettE, but as an individual artist and human being—a perspective not easily discerned from his band persona.

― Aoi, you have this laid-back, unique vibe that feels reminiscent of old-school rock musicians. "What, like I’m careless? (laughs)"

― No, no, that’s not what I meant. I heard you learned guitar from your older brother? "Yeah, that’s right. Back in his high school days, during his rebellious phase, my brother was in a band and played guitar. It looked like a lot of fun, so I wanted to join in, but he kicked me out (laughs). Instead, he gave me one guitar, a book with chords and lyrics in it, and said, 'Here, I'll lend you this. Go practice downstairs.' So I started practicing around middle school."

― What kind of songs were you practicing back then? "I practiced songs by X Japan using chords. But it was on a classical guitar, so it wasn't really rock at all (laughs). Then, after my brother graduated from high school, I asked him for his guitar, and that’s when I got my first electric guitar—but it was broken."

― Oh no, so no sound came out even when you connected it to an amp? "Yeah. I had saved up all my New Year’s money and had my dad take me to buy a small amp. I was so excited. But when I got home and there was no sound, I just started crying."

― (Laughs) That’s such a disappointment. "Totally. But from late elementary school to my third year of middle school, I was delivering newspapers. So in middle school, I saved up and bought my own electric guitar. It was the best thing ever! I was so happy that I even slept with the guitar. That time in my life was super busy. I’d deliver newspapers in the morning, go to school during the day, play baseball in the school club, and then practice guitar at night before going to bed. I didn’t even have time to do homework."

― It sounds like you didn’t have much motivation from the start. "Not at all. Kids are busy, you know? (laughs) But after I dropped out of high school, I stopped playing guitar. I wanted to become a professional musician, but my brother told me how tough the reality of it was. It kind of crushed my dream. My brother really loved music too, but he ended up working a normal job. So I thought, Yeah, that’s just how it goes."

― So you decided to take a different path. "Yeah, I was kind of aimlessly drifting along, and at the time, the older brother of a girl I was dating was into surfing."

― (Laughs) Another older brother. "Right. I can’t seem to do anything without someone else’s influence (laughs). But when I tried surfing, I was like, This is fun! Most people say they can’t stand on the board at first, but I was able to stand right away. I thought, I’ve got talent for this."

― Did you think, I’m going to be a pro surfer!? "Yeah, I was aiming for it. The word 'pro' just sounds cool, doesn’t it? Like being a professional baseball player or something."

― So you’ve always been drawn to careers in the spotlight? "Looks like it (laughs). I even entered surfing competitions. Actually, the first time I was featured in a magazine, it was in a surfing magazine (laughs)."

― How long were you into surfing? "About two or three years, I think. I had so much energy back then. I’d go to the ocean in the morning, take a nap at noon, head back to the ocean in the evening, and then work at night."

― Busy as ever. "Yeah, super busy. That was my life. But one night, I was watching a late-night TV show, and they featured an indie band. I got this idea in my head, like, I could do better than them. Once I thought that—well, here we are. In the end I decided, “Alright, I’m going to Tokyo”. Just like that (laughs)."

― But you weren’t even in a band at the time, right? "No, I wasn't. But I thought, If I go to Tokyo, I’ll figure it out somehow. That same day, I told my parents about it. Of course, I couldn’t just quit my job immediately, so I worked for another month, then said, Alright, I’m off. During that month, I practiced guitar like crazy."

― That’s pretty reckless. "Definitely reckless. Even I think I was stupid (laughs). Like, What was I even thinking?"

― But that’s the important part, isn’t it? "Sure, it worked out now, so it’s fine, but if it hadn’t, I’d just be a fool (laughs). So I arrived in Tokyo with no money, no place to stay, and I thought I might just take a live-in newspaper delivery job. But then an acquaintance said, My sister and her husband live in Tokyo—why don’t you stay with them for a while? I thought, This is too good to be true! (laughs). They even helped me find a job, and I worked part-time while putting together a band. One of the people I played with back then was actually the previous drummer of the GazettE."

― That kind of lifestyle must have contributed to that "rock" vibe you give off. "Now that I think about it, my parents were probably the most rock and roll part of the whole thing for letting me go to Tokyo (laughs). They gave me just enough money for a round trip, probably thinking I’d be back in no time. And then seven, eight years went by, and here we are (laughs)."

― What does your brother, the one who taught you guitar, say now that you’ve made it big with the GazettE? "He doesn’t say anything directly. But my brother’s wife showed me a video she secretly filmed, and in it, my brother was playing a cover of a GazettE song (laughs)."

― (laughs) The roles are reversed now. "I thought, "Big Bro, you're doing great!". Maybe you're a little better than me (laughs)"

― (laughs) So, how do you think the band members perceive you? "I’m not really sure. I don't really want to ask or know about it, to be honest. It would suck if they thought weird things about me, right?"

― (laughs) But you’re sensitive, so you must think about things like that. "I think about it a lot. (laughs). For some reason, Uruha seems a bit distant toward me. I don’t know if it’s because I’m older or because we’re both guitarists. Of course, we talk a lot during the creative process, but outside of that, not so much. That bothers me a bit (laughs)."

― A curious sense of distance. "Yeah, like... in a group photo kind of way (laughs). But he’s still within reach, you know? Back in the day, we used to share hotel rooms on tour, and we’d talk a lot about what kind of sound we wanted to create. But now, we’re in separate rooms, and compared to then, we don’t talk as much. I feel a bit lonely (laughs)."

― You could just start a conversation. "But I wouldn’t know what to say (laughs). I see him chatting happily with everyone else, and I think, good for him (laughs). Just the other day, even though I felt awkward, I called him and asked, Hey, Uruha, how do you watch terrestrial digital broadcasts? And he replied, You should probably just ask someone at the electronics store about that (laughs)."

― (laughs) You're embarrassed.

"Well, I’m not gay or anything (laughs)."

― (laughs) I didn’t mean that at all. "Well, lately Uruha is the one I find myself thinking about the most in the GazettE."

― But listening to you talk, it seems like you’re shy. It’s as if you don’t want to be seen as too serious about it. "Shy—that’s a nice way to put it (laughs). There’s just something awkward about being with the members. When we’re doing music, we speak our minds, we get angry, we say whatever we need to. But outside of that, even saying, Let’s grab something to eat, feels hard to say. If they said no, it would hurt, wouldn’t it? I’d regret even asking... (laughs). So I usually invite the manager instead, but when he says no, I get annoyed (laughs). Like, You don’t have the right to say no to me! (laughs). Honestly, though, I’d love to eat with everyone and just talk. I guess this is what being shy is about."

― So that’s why you end up being alone? "Yeah. Maybe I don’t actually like being alone. It might just be that I don’t have a choice (laughs). Am I lonely?! Because of this, when this magazine is released, I’m thinking of secretly buying it and leaving it at the members’ houses (laughs)."

― (laughs) Got it. Lastly, the GazettE is currently working on new material, right? "Yeah, we’re really diving into it. When we worked on the last single, Guren, it was during a tour, but now we’re in an environment where we can fully concentrate, so the songs are really powerful. It’s not so much about the style of the music, though."

― Is it influenced by the energy you got from the tour? "Yeah, that’s part of it. The band is really in an aggressive mode right now. We’re sharp, you could say. So, if you’re not careful, you might get taken by surprise. If you underestimate us, you’ll get burned. Right now, we’re fired up. And if it turns out to be a ballad... Then, well... my bad (laughs).

― (laughs) "But honestly, I’m really excited right now. We’re putting everything we have into making these songs. Everyone’s gotten super dedicated, so I think there will be some intense clashes in the studio. At the very least, I’m planning to bring the heat."

― You’re usually so considerate, though. "When we’re creating, though, there’s no room for being considerate. If you compromise in music, then it’s over. I really believe that."

― Aoi, you also get various comments about the songs and phrases you come up with, right? "When I’m working on the basic elements, I take in feedback. But once the song moves to the next stage, I present it by saying, This is how the song is, and this is my vision. But especially with Uruha, I get nervous. If he says, Yeah, it’s good, it feels like I’ve won. I’ll do a little fist pump in my mind (laughs)."

― You’ve also got a live show at Fuji-Q Highland Conifer Forest on August 23rd, right? "Yeah, it’s our first outdoor live in two years, so I want it to feel a bit like a festival. Last time at Tokyo Big Sight, we had fireworks and food stalls, so this time, being at Fuji-Q, it’ll be a completely different atmosphere. We’re looking forward to it, and I’m sure you all are too, right?"

― So, better finish your homework early. "Yeah, that's right. If I don't finish it by the 30th, I probably won’t be able to show up at our live show properly (laughs)."

A band is nothing without live shows

What a rock band should be

~the GazettE~

Written by Hiroko Yamamoto

I hardly know anything about the GazettE's indie days. The only thing I remember is seeing them perform at an event when Shibuya’s O-WEST was still called ON AIR WEST. However, I vividly remember that time. It felt almost like a spell. Perhaps it was the atmosphere on stage, including the fanaticism of the fans, that gave me a sense of fear.

Although it’s not included in this interview, Aoi mentions that during the early tours, even when they went to Hokkaido, they didn’t have the budget to stay in hotels. He recalls sleeping in the car during the dead of winter and being warned by a police officer the next morning, "If you sleep here, you'll freeze to death." In the DVD, he also says that the GazettE is a band that took the long route. In an era where you can search anything with a cell phone or a computer, opting not to take shortcuts but instead relentlessly performing live across the country is, in my opinion, a lot more demanding than it would have been for bands active 20 or 30 years ago. After all, when you start drawing a crowd, temptations are everywhere.

When I asked during an interview for their single Guren why they continued to play so many live shows, their response was crystal clear: “Simply put, a band is all about performing live.”, “If you neglect that, it’s like denying everything.”, “If people don’t come to see us live, there’s no point.”, “Even interviews and photoshoots are ultimately connected to our live shows.” This stubborn and resolute attitude hasn’t changed at all, even as they enter their seventh year as a band. I believe that even when the GazettE celebrates their 10th or 20th anniversary, they will still give the same answer. They describe themselves as awkward, but perhaps they’ve always been focused on what truly matters, while eliminating anything they consider impure.

One result of that is their grand final shows at Osaka-jo Hall and the two-day performance at the Yoyogi National Gymnasium. The overwhelming, thunderous cheers they received were proof that their fans were thirsting for the GazettE. The heat and energy in the venue were so intense that the microphones set up for recording were nearly toppling over. In the midst of that incredible atmosphere, the GazettE stood tall, poised and composed. They played their music and exchanged energy with those who needed it. There was no pretension, nor any forced attempts at unification. Everything unnecessary was stripped away. What remained were songs and performances that stirred the soul—the essence of what a rock band should be. No matter how common downloads become, no matter how advanced technology gets and how perfectly crafted recorded music becomes, it will never compare to the immediacy and thrill of a live performance. The GazettE probably knew that long ago…

Review

Highly acclaimed! The writer's “post-interview” review.

葵 (the GazettE)

Aoi’s first solo interview. He had analyzed himself as a sensitive and thoughtful person, which was absolutely true. Although he was a little shy during the questions, he still made me laugh and was very attentive to the atmosphere of the conversation. Still, that doesn’t mean he came across like the “friendly older brother” type. The unique aura and sensuality of a true rock musician were unshaken throughout the interview—something that left a lasting impression. I knew about the GazettE’s fierce dedication to their music, where heated arguments are commonplace, but I was surprised to learn that in everyday conversation, Aoi finds it awkward to even say, “Wanna grab a meal?”(laughs). His shy side as a guitarist shines through, even as he sneakily sends messages (or pleas?) to his bandmates through the magazine.

―――――――――― ―――――――――― ――――――――――

Scans cr: The Archive Translation: ChatGPT

[belzebubsofficial]

Just as a heads up: The Oulu Comics Festival takes place this weekend at Valve, and I had the honour of designing the event’s poster and look this year. The artists’ ”band logos” were tremendous fun, so thank you for trusting me with this, Oulun Sarjakuvafestivaali / Oulu Comics Festival!

The Finnish edition of Belzebubs vol. 2 will be published at the festival on Friday, along with numerous other titles from other artists, and I can’t wait to get the book out to you guys (and yes, other language editions will be coming out, too, don’t worry). I’ll naturally be there signing books and selling merch throughout Saturday, so do pop by if you’re in the neighbourhood! 🤘

Besides the new release, I also have two exhibitions at the event, the other one showcasing various Belzebubs works, the other featuring my contribution to the Diascon project: excerpts from refugee interviews which I adapted into documentary short-stories (more info at www.diascon.eu, if you’re interested).

The full festival program is here, and you’ll find me from two interviews on Saturday:

15:00: Belzebubs vol. 2 | With Janne-Matti Keisala

22:00: Diascon | With Karstein Volle

Looking forward to the show, hope to see you there! 🙌

[sapph1re]

Modern Love (vol. 2)

chandler bing x reader | fluff | slow burn

Summary: after chandler receives your mixtape, he makes one of his own for you. Rachel finds it and chaos ensues

mixtape for a brat (vol. 1)

masterlist

---

April 13th, 1994

You’re halfway through teasing Chandler for his tragic taste in snack food (“Cheez-it's again? It’s like you hate yourself”) when he suddenly turns weird.

Not in a bad way, but in a Chandler way. Fidgety. Deflective. A little too smiley.

“You have a secret,” you say, narrowing your eyes. “Is it a dead body? Or is Joey just finally letting his beard grow out?”

He ignores that. Instead, he reaches behind a couch cushion like it’s a magic trick and pulls out a cassette tape. Handmade. Labeled in thick Sharpie:

Mixtape for a Brat, Vol. 1

(Play it loud. Or don't. I'm not the boss of you)

You blink. “Wait, you made me a mixtape?”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal. Like he didn’t clearly spend hours agonizing over the tracklist. “It’s not like… a thing. Just… you know. You made me one. So now I’m contractually obligated to return the favor.”

“But mine was a birthday gift,” you say, glancing down at it. “You didn’t have to.”

“Then consider this an early birthday gift.” He gestures vaguely. “A very early one. So early that it’s not sentimental, and therefore not weird.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So this isn’t weird.”

“Extremely normal. Guy makes a mix for his friend. She makes fun of it. They both pretend it didn’t take him 2 days.”

You smirk. “2 days?”

“I said pretend.”

You flip it over in your hands. No tracklist visible- of course not. Chandler wouldn’t make it that easy. “Should I be scared?”

“Depends. Do you like music?”

“Do you like me?”

He opens his mouth, closes it again, and throws a cheez-it at your head.

You don’t listen to it right away.

You wait until later that night; when your roommates are asleep, the city’s quiet, and you’re stretched out across your bed with headphones on, clutching the tape like it might bite you.

It starts with Rebel Rebel, and you actually laugh out loud. Of course he put that first. You got your mother in a whirl…

It’s arrogant and theatrical and Chandler-coded to hell. If the title didn’t give it away, this opening track screams, I like you, and I’m going to bully you about it.

Then it shifts.

You Make My Dreams (Come True). Ridiculous. Sincere. A complete tonal whiplash. You picture him bouncing awkwardly around his apartment while picking it- making a face like he’s too cool for Hall & Oates but smiling anyway.

6 songs later, when Crimson and Clover hits, you’re curled under your blankets, cheeks hot.

You can’t tell what he’s doing with the order. At first, it feels random. Then deliberate. Then very not-random. Songs you’ve danced to, songs you’ve mentioned in passing, songs you’ve never heard but somehow feel like him.

It’s sentimental without being sentimental. Sweet, then sharp. The Smiths and Bowie. Nods to your goth days in high school. Take On Me near the end, like a joke and a dare and a wink at the same time.

But what gets you- really gets you- is These Days.

Soft. Melancholy. Wistful.

You listen to it twice.

You try not to read into it. You try so hard.

But this doesn’t feel like a casual gift. It feels like Chandler, with all the armor stripped away, trying to tell you something in 14 carefully chosen songs.

You fall asleep with the headphones still on.

The tape clicks softly in the dark.

And even though no one says it- not yet, not out loud- you know this isn’t just a mixtape.

It’s a confession in disguise.

April 15th, 1994

It starts innocently enough.

You’re halfway through folding laundry on your bed when Rachel, in her usual whirlwind of hairspray and perfume, flops down beside you with a dramatic sigh.

“Do I wear the red top or the slutty red top?” She asked.

Monica appears in the doorway, armed with a can of diet coke and an unsolicited opinion. “Neither. You’re meeting his parents, not shooting a Whitesnake video.”

You snort, toss a towel into the basket, and return to your socks. “And just like that, Monica makes her grand entrance… armed and condescending.”

Monica rolls her eyes, Rachel whines, and the chaos continues; until Rachel leans back against your pillows, freezes, and pulls something from under your comforter.

A cassette tape.

She squints at the label. “Mixtape for a Brat?”

Your head snaps up. “Hey- don’t touch that.”

But it’s too late. Rachel’s eyes are already lighting up, and Monica practically teleports across the room.

“Wait,” Monica says slowly, eyes narrowing. “Is that… from Chandler?”

You say nothing.

Rachel gasps. “It is, isn’t it?! Oh my God.”

“It’s not a thing,” you say quickly, reaching for it, but Rachel holds it out of reach like she’s discovered classified evidence. “He was just being a brat. I made him one for his birthday, so he made me one. It’s like… revenge.”

“Revenge?” Monica repeats. “You think this is revenge?” She grabs the case, flips it over. “There’s no track list.”

“Obviously,” you mutter. “Like he’d make it that easy.”

Rachel’s eyes sparkle. “That means it’s serious. You hide the track list when it’s emotional.”

You throw a pillow at her. “That’s not a real rule.”

“Yes, it is,” Monica and Rachel say in unison.

You groan, flopping back onto the bed. “Guys. It’s just a mixtape.”

Monica plops beside you. “You know what Joey gave me once? A box of Raisinets and a high five. Chandler made this. That’s not friendly. That’s personalized emotional curation.”

“Yeah,” Rachel adds, waving the tape. “This is like… musical foreplay.”

You snort. “Okay, well, that’s the worst phrase I’ve ever heard.”

They both stare at you.

Monica raises an eyebrow. “Have you listened to it yet?”

You hesitate. “…Maybe.”

Rachel gasps. “And?!”

You sit up, suddenly defensive. “And nothing. It’s… very Chandler. Loud. Sarcastic.”

Monica leans in. “But was it, like, secretly sweet?”

Rachel waggles her eyebrows. “Did it make you feel… things?”

You huff and try to snatch the tape back again. “I’m not doing this.”

They both tackle you. Monica grabs your wrist while Rachel dives for the tape. Somehow the three of you collapse in a heap of tangled limbs and soft shrieks. You manage to wrench the cassette back and hold it to your chest like it’s a family heirloom.

“I swear to God,” you say, breathless, “if either of you tells him how many times I've played it, I’ll put nair in your shampoo.”

Monica grins. “You just admitted you’re obsessed with it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Rachel nudges you. “You didn’t have to.”

You scowl, but your cheeks burn anyway.

Outside, the faint sound of a hallway door opening and closing makes you all freeze. A moment passes. Then Monica whispers:

“Is that him?”

You shoot up. “Hide the tape!”

Rachel shoves it under a pillow. Monica throws a blanket over your lap like it’s going to mask your guilt. You all sit up straight, very casual. Very innocent.

The door doesn’t open.

False alarm.

Still, your heart races. Because for a second, you think: What if he walked in? What if he saw your face right now?

You glance at the pillow hiding the tape.

And then, just to be safe, you double-check that the volume on your Walkman is still turned way down.

You’re barely in the door when you hear it:

Music, faint and crackling through cheap speakers.

Duran Duran. Girls on Film.

You freeze.

That’s… suspicious. Monica only plays this kind of music when she’s cleaning the oven in a rage. Rachel doesn’t usually dip into synth-pop unless she’s three drinks deep and feeling nostalgic. And Phoebe once described new wave as “music that sounds like robots doing cocaine.”

You drop your bag on the couch and head toward Monica's room.

What you find is somehow worse than you imagined.

Monica, Rachel, and Phoebe are huddled around Monica’s stereo like it’s about to give them government secrets. Monica holds the cassette case in her hand. Rachel’s got a notepad for some reason, and Phoebe is laid dramatically across the floor like she’s watching a mixtape seance unfold.

You blink. “Nooo.”

Rachel glances up. “Hey!”

You lunge forward. “Is that—? Oh my god. Where did you get that?!”

Monica answers without missing a beat. “Chandler’s apartment.”

“We stole it.” Phoebe adds dreamily.

“Borrowed it,” Monica corrects, like that makes a difference.

You snatch the tape out of her hands. “This is the mixtape I made him!”

Rachel rolls her eyes. “We know. We wanted to listen to the one he made you but somebody can’t leave it alone for five minutes, so we settled.”

You gape. “You broke into his music collection?!”

“He left it out,” Monica says innocently. “Right next to his stereo. Practically public property.”

“Plus,” Phoebe says, “we figured it was either this or sit in silence and contemplate our poor life decisions.”

You drop onto the bed, scandalized. “Mixtapes are sacred! There’s a code!”

Rachel waves her notepad. “Relax, it’s actually really good. Like, I didn’t know you had range.”

You bury your face in your hands. “I’m going to die.”

Rachel leans forward, eyes gleaming. “Be honest. Did you put Like a Virgin on there because you thought it would kill him?”

You peek out through your fingers. “I put it on there because he likes that song."

Monica grins wildly. “Wait- Chandler likes Madonna?”

Rachel gasps. “Oh my god. I bet that's his guilty pleasure."

Phoebe clutches her heart. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

You groan. “Can we not make a thing out of this?”

Monica shakes her head slowly. “Too late. It’s already a thing.”

“He walked in while we were listening,” Rachel says. “Looked horrified, said something about needing a snack, and fled.”

Phoebe smiles. “He turned the colour of a turnip. It was adorable.”

You groan. “Great. Now he thinks I made the whole thing just to flirt with him."

“Oh, he already thought that,” Monica says. “This just confirmed everything.”

Rachel adds, “You might as well have spray-painted I Have Feelings for You across the case.”

“I alphabetized it! It's not like there's some hidden message."

“But you still led with a song from the album you were listening to when you met,” Monica says smugly. “That’s emotional warfare disguised as Canadian indie rock.”

“I hate you all.”

Phoebe pats your knee. “That’s just the shame talking.”

The stereo clicks, and Like a Virgin starts playing again. Rachel howls with laughter. Monica grins.

You groan and dramatically slide off of the bed and onto the floor. “I swear to god, if any of you tell him I’ve been listening to his tape on loop-”

Rachel grins. “We don’t have to. He already knows.”