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trainsinanime · 2 years ago

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Something that really fascinates me is the concept of “American words”. You know, words that US Americans associate with the USA, and the pandering way in which this used. I’m specifically looking at this in the context of trains.

For the longest time, with very few exceptions, the rail industry has used numeric or alphanumeric codes to refer to vehicles. Some trains got nicknames, but for the most part, you talk about SD40-2 and GG1 and GP9 and Re 4/4 II and 141R and F40PH and LNER A4 and class 95 and V100 (east) and DD 16 and BB 15000 and what have you. Stuff that makes you sound crazy to any non-railfan, and that’s how we like it. None of these are made up, by the way, I have all of them in my model railroad collection (the 141R is new).

That’s because this is all a strictly business-to-business thing. Nobody buys a particular locomotive, car or train because of the great name or advertisement, they do it because they ran the numbers and a lot of negotiating.

Over the years, however, that shifted. The first major time (apart from a few one-off named trains) in the US was probably the General Electric P40, P42 and P32, collectively known as “Genesis”. That’s already a fairly “American” word: Explicitly biblical, which is less popular in Europe (let alone other parts of the world), and it sounds meaningful: Something something start, new beginning. The locomotive is the beginning of the train, anyway, so it’s not like it’s wrong.

In Europe, we’ve seen this in full force during the 90s and especially 2000s, together with a huge shift in how railroading worked at all. Before, it used to be that the rail industry of one country got together with the country’s main railroad, and designed one locomotive together, and everyone got to build at least parts of it. A lot of mergers and liberalisation of the rail market means that nowadays, the rail industry is organised as multinational corporations (I’d say four major ones at the moment, but I won’t say which ones so nobody gets angry at me for saying the wrong ones), and these design the trains in house and then try to sell them, with real marketing departments and such.

For example, in the 80s and early 90s, there was exactly one regional diesel train that was being built in Germany, the class 628. It was only built for Germany (mostly, a few ended up in Luxembourg), too. Other countries had very similar trains, notably the Netherlands and Austria, which were derived from the German design and built under license, but by their own local rail industry to their own standards.

On the other hand, by 2000, in the same market (but now low-floor for better accessibility and climatized), we had things like the class 642, 643, 646 and 648, and that’s not counting the weird ones (such as the shorter 640, 641 and 650) or the ones only sold to private companies. All of them did the same thing, but all of them were built by different companies (Siemens, Bombardier, Stadler and Alstom in order), and all of them were also exported, unchanged, to many other countries around the world. Even North America got a small set of each of these types.

And since there were many, it was decided that marketing was now in order. These trains no longer only had class numbers from the railroad that ordered them; instead they got names from their manufacturers. In those cases, Coradia LINT, TALENT, GTW and Desiro, and there were also RegioShuttle, RegioSprinter and Itino, and yes I am missing some on purpose.

Throughout the 2000s, all manufacturers adopted this for almost all trains and locomotives. So let’s talk about the names in particular.

First thing: Names are expensive, so they get reused. You will find Siemens Desiro trains in Germany, Belgium, the UK and Malaysia (among others), and those have nothing to do with each other except for being regional trains built by Siemens. In fact, there are two or three completely different types of Desiro in Germany alone (the Desiro ML and HC are not completely different, but they’re hardly the same thing either). They are generally delineated by suffixes, like Desiro Classic, Desiro ML, Desiro HC, or Coradia LINT and Coradia Stream and many others.

Second: Names are generally abstract made-up words. It’s okay if they sound a bit English or are English, but they’re generally meaningless. Desiro, Coradia, TRAXX, Vectron, Talent, Velaro, Avelia, Urbos, Flexity, Civity, Mireo, those are all names that vaguely imply something but mean nothing in particular and are specifically chosen to be inoffensive everywhere.

The big exception to this is Stadler, who uses funny (to them) abbreviations. Their line-up includes TANGO (tram), WINK (local train), FLIRT (regional train), KISS (double-decker regional and intercity train), and for their high-speed long-distance train… SMILE. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: They’re cowards.

So let’s come back to North America. The passenger rail industry there has been in a zombie state for a long time, and it seems like the freight industry is starting to join them. The market is too small to really have a domestic industry, so with very few exceptions, all modern trams, subways, locomotives and complete train sets are European designs, adapted for the US market, but assembled in the US due to federal laws.

And they all get names for the specific North American variant, and this name is always what I’d call an “American word”:

Europe: Siemens Vectron DE (diesel locomotive). North America: Siemens Charger

Europe: Citadis (tram). North America: Citadis Spirit

Europe: Flexity 2 (tram). North America: Flexity Freedom

Europe: Avelia Horizon (high speed train). North America: Avelia Liberty

There are still some exceptions, like the ALP45DP whose name is as gloriously ugly as the locomotive itself, but the trend is clear.

Just today, and the reason why I’m posting this, we got my favorite example. The company behind the privately owned and operated high speed line between (the suburbs of) Los Angeles and Las Vegas is currently looking at which trains to buy, and Siemens has released an official proposal. It’s based on their Velaro high speed train, specifically the Velaro Novo that’s conceptually a cross between the ICE 3 (new) and ICE 4 (remind me to write a post about ICE types and their bonkers numbering one of these days), and for a long time it has only been communicated as such. But their competitor has the much more American name Avelia Liberty (also known as the new Acela by its operator Amtrak - interestingly Acela would be a perfectly good European train name). So they needed to not only build a better train, they also needed to out-american them on the name. Apparently.

Enter the American Pioneer 220.

Now that’s an American name! Velaro Pioneer would have been a very American name already, but Siemens really wants that contract, so they put American in front, just to make it absolutely clear that they’re not planning to sell this one to Iceland. The 220 stands for its top speed of 354 kilometers per hour, of course, which it won’t reach on the proposed line.

So what is an “American” word here? I’d say it’s anything you can have as a keyword in a speech about how great and unique the US is. In the list above, we have Freedom, Freedom but in Latin, Spirit, Charger and now Pioneer.

For more similar names, I think the space program provides great opportunities. All Space Shuttles and Mars rovers have great American names. Anything that sounds like can-do attitude, overcoming, exploring new grounds, being super-free and perhaps vaguely metaphysical can do the job. Opportunity. Constitution. Eagle. Flag. Banner. Crossroads. Star. You can just go on.

I suppose/hope we’re not getting any trained named Columbia anymore, but I do hope Destiny is still in there and that Stadler gets in on this act, because a train named KISS Destiny would be absolutely hilarious.

I think there’s like a 5% chance of someone coming in my notes and saying that this is necessary and good because the US are so full of freedom and liberty and work-ethic and so on that the Europeans could never understand. I don’t think it’ll happen, I’ve made the post far too long for anyone to read through to the end, but you know, if it does: I don’t really agree with that. But it is true that US Americans like to believe that about themselves, and so if you want to pander to them, these words work wonders.

As a non-american who has spent less than three months in the US in total, I am not an expert on this or in fact anything I’m saying here, but I also personally blame George Bush and the Iraq War, and the rise in mandated patriotism that came with that. Of course the land of Freedom Fries also gets the Trainionity Freedom. See also how many US trains now have American flags on them, including many that were built fully in Germany or Switzerland. That’s a relatively recent thing.

#trains #railroads #us #patriotism

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thoughtvoid · 1 year ago

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I used to hate shopping as a kid. I'm sure there were a lot of reasons, most of them autistic reasons, but part of me wonders how big a part of it was just. Growing bigger in general.

Did I like my clothes and not like the idea that I couldn't wear them anymore and had to buy new ones? How often did we end up shopping and doing the whole ordeal of 'look around here, see if it's the right size, do you like it, try it on, we'll need to try about ten things and maybe buy three or four'. No toys, no snacks, so bored and only asked to focus on something I wasn't really interested in doing because we'd just have to do it all again at a random point in the future.

Nowadays, I work retail in a clothes store, so I get to see everything that comes in, and started making somewhat impulsive purchases (I'd wait for sales or good incentives, but with many specific things I'd been keeping an eye on) about three years in. I've worked out what styles I like, what sizes typically work (but also know my measurements if it's an iffy online purchase), and expanded my wardrobe to. About three times what it used to be. And got rid of older clothes that really wouldn't fit anymore and that I'd had sitting in the closet for five plus years! I started wearing jewelry when I realized we had a brand with clip on earrings! (Prior to that, I wore cheap necklaces and a couple of bracelets and exactly two souvenir rings. And had my great grandmother's old genuinely vintage costume jewelry, which I never really thought fit with my graphic t-shirt wardrobe. Which included beaded clip on earrings, but the brand in store was the first I'd seen in person with modern looking clip ons. I've expanded on all my jewerly options now, but being able to wear earrings without needing holes is what prompted all of it.)

And even outside the store I work at, I've learned what I'd like to go with my outfits that I can look for online. I have a nicer, slightly more expensive dress that would really look fancy if paired with a chiffon cape - okay, good to go for if I need something fancy. I have a small pouch that really just holds cards, but I'd like it if I could put it on a strap instead of in my pocket or with a purse - oh look, I can find some straps in a variety of colors and have the option of a chain. Oh holy shit, there's clip ons relevant to my fandom that aren't absurdly pricy, I definitely want those. I have graphic tees that are relevant to my fandoms, specifically, as opposed to the past where my tees were just 'whatever was in the store in my size that I preferred over the other designs whenever it was time for clothes shopping'.

I have skirts! Dresses! Blouses! Sleeveless! Both pretty and activewear tanks! Still mostly wear black pants casually, but I have jeans that hold up better at work in four completely different colors! Alongside the tees that I'm a lot more attached to because I actually wanted them. I bought most of my stuff now, so I got to pick things I like on my own, when I wanted to buy them!

My mom says that I went a little crazy with buying stuff. Not that I couldn't afford it, but that it seemed odd because I was never interested before. Getting me to go shopping was like pulling teeth, and I was just wanting to get it over with and leave as soon as possible. She doesn't have a quarter the amount of jewelry I have now, so if she ever needs to dress up, she'll check in with me for accessorizing.

But I remember playing dress up. I remember wearing my grandmother's squaredance skirts. I remember putting on a really old fashioned, scratchy, fancy-ish purple hat that was probably my great grandmother's. (Looking at hats through various decades on search bars makes me 70% sure it was a pillbox hat. I think it did have a small bit of white veil. Maybe.) I remember putting on beaded necklaces and feeling fancy. It was fun and temporary, but my smile at the time was so genuine, my grandmother used the picture taken while I was playing dress up to paint as a portrait.

I also remember hating dresses because I was forced to wear them to church every Sunday. And after ten years, eventually I could just wear skirts, which was marginally better but still not something I liked doing to go somewhere I was forced to go. Church wasn't even a bad experience necessarily, I just hated waking up and dressing in clothes I didn't want to wear at the time to attend 'Sunday school' when the weekends were supposed to be for fun. I remember wearing hose, and while I haven't actually worn any of that again, I'm not opposed to the idea of it. Because if I do, it'd be because I want to. Not to fit some very conservative dress code for a religious organization. (I went to church long after I had the ability to choose, because for a while I went along with it just because I didn't want to make my family sad. But I did stop, even if the current state of church is far less strict and more just 'dress a little nicer, people might judge if you come in with a tshirt for a metal band, but we really don't care as long as you're attending to hear the message'.)

I like my clothes now. I like dresses, they're very cool to wear when it gets hot. My only problem at this point is my body size being on the upper limits (and sometimes just beyond) the average size ranges for in-store normal size range. Used to teeter the line of XL and XXL, now I'm solidly XXL and it depends on the brand if I can wear that size. But I'm pretty happy with my closet.

#If there is a problem with my wardrobe; it's the material that clothes are made of #Because I have trouble with heat; and I can barely wear long sleeves when it's literally freezing outside #And I feel like my heat intolerance is at least partially because of all the polyester nowadays #I'm sure some of it is personal reasons. And some of it is probably humidity being a pain. But I feel like more things were cotton before

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angry-geese · 4 years ago

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For Myself

Sukuna x Reader

Warnings: nsfw mention. mention of violence, blood, injury, and cannibalism. implied murder. starts off kind of dark but gets fluffier towards the end. gn!reader.

obligatory warning for my poor editing skills. if theres any egregious errors i'll get to them when i get home from work

Summary: some fluff where Sukuna comforts the reader while they're sick

Word Count: 2.4k

He's certain you would be more comfortable in his lap than on the floor. Even as he beckons you to sit, you refuse, turning your gaze away. You adjust your position to a more comfortable spot on your knees. The floor is hard and cold, but you don't have much longer to wait anyway. Sukuna has grown bored of the man standing in front of him. A peace offering, in exchange for not razing their village. A young woman, brought here against her own will. Her life to replace yours. It's nothing Sukuna wants, nor can he make use of her. She’s no sorcerer, likely no good in a fight, and too frail to be worth eating.

Worst of all, it insults you.

An insult to you, is an insult to Sukuna himself.

The man was only delaying the inevitable. Humans have a habit of doing that. They’re resilient, like cockroaches. You can squash, poison, trap, or drop a nuke on as many as you want to, but they’ll always come back.

He planned on killing him from the moment he stepped foot in the door.

And when he kills him, he makes sure to have the woman watch. She lays curled at your feet as you regard them both with cold eyes. Not a scream passes her lips. She’s either frozen with fear, or knows that moving is the worst thing she can do.

She begs for her life.

Sukuna leaves it up to you to decide.

It was an insult to you, after all. In a past life you could see yourself letting her go. There's many things in life you used to do that are no longer habits of yours. You were in her shoes years ago. Time has hardened you, made you cruel. If a past version of you could look at you now, you don't know if you’d recognize yourself. Not all change is bad. People are meant to change, and they’re going to do so.

You give her a minute to start running. After that, it's up to Sukuna with what he wants to do with her.

She takes the opportunity, thinking she has a chance to survive, and flees. The guards and servants let her. Your word is second to Sukuna’s. The only person who could overturn an order put in place by you is Sukuna himself. He usually doesn't. The resulting chaos from anything you do is good entertainment. And he has all the time in the world. Being immortal leads to a lot of boredom.

Sukuna would hunt her down before she could escape the estate.

Nobody got away from him. Not even you. Nowadays you’re much less serious about leaving but you still threaten it if he dares piss you off.

He'd never let you go. You know that. Try as you will, you're never getting free.

Not that you have anything to go back to. And you're rather comfortable here. Comfortable may be a bit of a stretch, but you're housed, fed, and protected. The basic human needs are taken care of. Sukuna cares about you in his own, twisted way. You may have first been just a plaything to keep his stomach full and his balls empty—a toy to be discarded after a day or two—but you've earned a place by his side. He wakes up next to you, he goes to sleep next to you. He's grown used to having you around. And you to him.

You're just as much his, as he is yours.

Everything about the man is selfish, and all-consuming. But when he is with you, he finds himself giving for the first time in his life.

He gets a servant to draw him a bath. He has the decency to scrub the blood off before finding you, and asking you to join him. His bloodied kimono is replaced with a clean one. It's black, the sleeves are wide enough to accommodate his four arms. Blood doesn't bother you, but he doesn't want to track it all over his house.

Something is wrong.

He doesn't remember you getting hurt, but you’re acting like you’re injured. He thinks back to this morning, how he had to drag you out of bed. How sluggish you acted.

Worry creases itself between his eyebrows.

Your mortality was something he knew of, but never gave much thought. There was no need to. The mortality of others was something he didn't care about. You weren't supposed to be kept long. You were merely a sacrifice, meant to appease Sukuna, and in turn he wouldn't raze your village. While young, and pretty, not good enough to save your people. He planned on fucking you, burning your village to the ground, then eating you. Not necessarily in that order, but that was the plan.

He's taken everything from you. Your home, your life, your family. Even as you were forced to face your fate, you never gave in, never lost your bite. You defied him and lived. You had a malicious streak in you. You were never as sweet and as innocent as the people of your village first played you up to be. Years later you still put up the same fight. It's a constant back and forth between you two.

You’d never be able to hurt him. As much as you'd scratch and bite, you'd never so much as draw blood. Harming the King of Curses was not an easy task.

His 'love' was much more material at first. As you got settled down, survived more than a week, gifts appeared. Jeweled hair pins and beautiful, expensive kimonos appeared. All made just for you. He'd never admit to being behind it. You were not complacent, but you were comfortable. You were his spoiled pet. That didn't stop you from clawing at his eyes whenever he picked you up when you didn't want to be touched. Being spoiled didn't make you nice.

None of his pets have lasted quite as long as you have. At least eight times the trees of his estate have shriveled and turned brown in winter, and the ground has hardened with frost. At least eight times they've bloomed and have had the life of spring breathed back into them, and the ground has thawed and turned muddy. You just did what you had to in order to survive. You've more than just survived. Some would say you’ve thrived. You would beg to differ. If you were the begging type.

He still views you as a pet. You’re human after all. Though sometimes it feels like you’re becoming more curse than human. Being viewed as an equal to him is impossible, but he values you. You're not something that can easily be replaced.

His hand touches your shoulder from behind. You don't flinch. You used to flinch. Then you started swinging. You're never able to hurt him. You're strong, but not that strong.

"She was far too frail to eat," you say, "I assumed you didn't want to keep her for that."

You don't eat human meat. Or try not to. Early on in your stay, before you knew better… It wasn't pork. Uraume was a wonderful cook, but not for anything you ate. Personally it's not your thing. Non-human meat is hard to come by around here, so you’ve stopped eating the stuff altogether. If you wanted it, Sukuna would make a servant get it for you, but you are content without it.

"You made the right call." He says. You always do.

He slips beside you, watching as you remove the intricate pins from your hair. You always loved your hair. Even at your darkest moment you took great care of it. It was a source of pride for you.

A wave of nausea rolls over you. Sweat beads in your hairline, rolling down your back, under the thin fabric of your—his—robe. You have little need for clothes. It doesn't get that cold here. Sukuna tears them off you anyway. Covering yourself up isn't necessary, but you do it out of modesty, and a sense of normalcy. You protest as he pulls at the fastenings of your robe, the flimsy fabric pooling at your feet. You have no plans on getting wet, you’d much rather go to bed. You’re tired, and you don't want to be bothered.

The tub is large enough to fit several of you. You guess it's fitting. The man is huge. He settles into the water behind you, pulling you to his chest. Try as you will, you’re not going to be able to struggle out of his grip. You’re too tired to put up much of a fight, though you do complain.

One of his sets of arms wraps around you, effectively trapping you in place. The other pulls a washcloth from the side of the tub, into the water with you. As much as you hate to admit it, the warm water feels nice against your sore muscles.

Sukuna is not a sentimental man. But with the way his hands trace across your skin, soft, lovingly, like he’s reading a book of braille, makes you think otherwise. He doesn't leer at the curves of your body like he normally does. His eyes scan across your body, looking for any sign of injury.

When he deems you clean enough, and your skin has turned a nice shade of pink from the hot water, he lets you go. You're the first to get out, drying yourself off. You never realized how cold the room was before.

He hauls you into his arms. You do little to protest, which worries him.

The King of Curses has no need for sleep. The bed mostly serves for asthetic purposes, though he's not opposed to fucking you across any flat surface, you seem to favor softer ones.

Much like the tub, his bed is large enough to fit several of you. You feel dwarfed by its size. The man is huge, he needs a bed to fit. You could sprawl out as wide as possible and never have any of your limbs hanging over the sides.

He follows you, silent.

He can't recall ever letting any of his pets share his bed before. Some have tried. Tried. He can't recall any of them surviving as long as you have, either. He finds himself irritated at the thought of anything bad ever happening to you.

He doesn't join you in bed.

He doesn't need sleep the same way humans do. He can, but if he were to decide not to, it would bring no harm to him. He used to never dream. It was something he did, back when he was human, but that time has long passed. But whenever he dreamed, he’d wake up next to you. Experiences like that made him realize just why humans like to sleep so much. Before he never woke up rested; he was never tired in the first place.

You shove the covers aside and crawl underneath. They smell like him. He snubs out the candle burning on the side table with his index finger and thumb. Though it's dark, there’s enough light in the room to make out his much-larger form.

You shiver, although sweat forms along your skin in a thin sheen. Sukuna knows it's not cold. He sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. The back of his hand presses to your forehead. You’re burning up.

You were warm before, but he thought it was because of the bath. He’s not really sure what to do. It's rare moments like these that he's forced to face your mortality. He knows you're fragile—compared to him—but he can't bear the thought of something bad happening to you.

One of his large hands moves to cup your cheek. It's just as warm as your forehead. The pad of his thumb runs across your cheekbone.

"Stay with me." You say. You stretch your arms out towards him, making grabbing motions with your hands.

You’re not one to beg. Even when faced with death, you look it straight in the eyes. Call it bravery, or lack of self preservation. He admired that about you. You ignored your mortality because it did not matter to you.

��What's the matter, pet?”

“I don't feel too good.” You say.

Though he doesn't say it, he can tell.

“I’ll get Uraume-”

“No,” your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him back towards your chest, “no. I’m okay.”

He settles down beside you in bed, on top of the covers. When he opens his arms, you go right into them. He makes sure to keep the blankets tucked around you. Sukuna runs warm naturally. You huddle close to him, trying to steal his warmth. Though your face feels abnormally warm, you shiver. His much larger body lays partially on top of yours, his head resting on your chest, ear pressed to your skin. He can hear your heartbeat. Steady, and alive. Something low in your chest rattles when you breathe.

He should get a servant to bring you water, or some tea. It occurs to him how little he knows about the mundane things humans do to make themselves feel better. Not that he ever needed to care. In all the years you’ve been by his side, he’s never seen anything like this happen. He can't decide, and instead calls for both. If you need medicine, he’ll get that too, but you don't seem to be at that point. Uraume knows more about humans than he does. He’s no doctor, but he’ll work. If he asks you, you’ll just say you’re fine.

He holds the cup up to you, beckoning you to drink. The glass is cold against your lips. Even as your hands wrap around it, he doesn't let it go. He sets the empty glass on the side table with a soft thunk.

His large hand smoothes over your head, brushing your hair out of your eyes. His nails feel nice against your scalp. Nothing about the man is soft, but when he’s left alone with you, moments like this are bound to happen. You allow yourself to be pet. The heat, combined with the weight of his body, threatens to lull you off to sleep. The ache in your joints keeps you from doing so.

When he kisses you, you taste like a curse.

#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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lebenspurpur · 4 years ago

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What would the lost boys look like in 2021?

I just got flashed with a bunch of random headcanons so go ahead and enjoy them with me. Also, this came up in a convo with @thehauntinginn just to give a bit of credit. Feel free to argue with me on this one!!

🦇 David 🦇

He is kind of the only one who looks like your usual vampire during the whole movie.

Dark pants, dark shirt, coat, gloves, all that. Only the hair doesn't really fit but hey, they had to get some 80s style in there.

I know for sure that he'd like to keep that mysterious, dark style. It just fits him.

But obviously, that hair would be gone by now. I'm pretty sure he'd settle on something less "80s romance movie" but still kind of different.

My guess is just long blonde hair, maybe an undercut or shaved sides to freshen it up a little.

Now to the clothing, I am pretty sure it wouldn't change that much. He enjoys being a typical vampire in that aspect. It kind of fills him with pride.

During the 90s he definitely started wearing Doc Marten's and that's a fact. He owns multiple, actually, and most of them are over 10 years old.

The whole grunge movement gave him a lot of style ideas anyway. Not that he particularly only wears grunge style but he mixes it with a bit of mall goth/traditional goth to spice it up. Really, the only thing that's missing is the stereotypical makeup.

Which leads me to the next thing: makeup. David does wear a bit, sometimes. Usually, he's way too lazy or busy too and he doesn't really need stuff like foundation anyway. The only thing he's interested in is eyeliner and some black eyeshadow.

I can also see him wearing contact lenses from time to time, simply because he likes to look a little bit freaky. Technically he could just manipulate people into thinking he is, but hey, he likes wearing them.

Maybe some nail polish. Dark red or black. Nothing special.

A lot of accessories. I know for a fact that this idiot loves showing off gigantic golden rings. Kind of reminds me of these old, really rich ladies who love to wear really expensive suits and rings and then tell you about their past affairs. Listen, I have that kind of people in my family and my god. I have heard things about old men that I want to forget.

He can look very fancy indeed, but usually, he prefers to mix that fanciness with some grunge or punk style, since he's way too scared of looking too snobby.

⚰️ Dwayne ⚰️

He looks like he hasn't washed his hair in 3 months.

Dwayne wears a mix of rock fashion and punk in the movie.

He has his typical leather jacket, paired with some ripped jeans, old boots, and his.. "necklace" (I honestly love it, looks like something I'd wear LMAO).

The earring is another very typical "Dwayne" thing.

He sticks to the hair, definitely. It's his whole pride, he won't just give that up. Don't tell me it's not the thing he's most proud of. Have you seen the scene after that one killing spree where his hair is suddenly all swiped to one side? Like, try and explain to me that he didn't just do that real quick to show off.)

Thank the gods, he stops wearing nothing beneath his jackets. Like do whatever you want but Dwayne, hun, that screams douche like nothing else.

Usually, he prefers to wear some band-tees, maybe a button-up when he feels good. Also, he is a big fan of tank tops. He doesn't care if they show his belly to not, he just wants to show off his arms.

I feel like he'd get pierced and tattooed a lot. Tattoos on his arms and piercings mostly in his ears.

So yeah, he sticks with the leather/denim jacket thing, but this time he's wearing something beneath it. His pants are mostly denim or leather too, and black. I don't think he owns any other colored pants.

He likes to keep his hair tied up so it doesn't get in the way. Also, he wears sunglasses. Yes, even at night.

I'd like to think that he kept the necklace but nowadays, he wears more glamourous ones. Oh, and a lot of chains. Technically, he wears more accessories than David but at least his aren't super clunky and big.

Very, very pretty boots, I imagine. After all, he has to be able to kick someone with those and still look fashionable.

Dwayne wears eyeliner every. single. day. Don't even try and change my mind.

🐉 Paul 🐉

Paul dressed super gay 80s punk mixed with a bit of new wave/goth, I'd say.

He has a thing for fishnets and he will keep wearing them. Be it as a shirt or as actual tights, he definitely will.

I can imagine he too, changes his hair but Paul's the one that will pretty much stay with the 80s haircuts. He just can't see himself do anything else with his hair. He dyes it a lot, too. I, for the love of me, do not know how to deal with the word dye. Who the fuck made that one up.

Paul is the one that stays very much experimental with his style. That man changes aesthetics like underwear.

Though he likes to wear tight stuff and big jackets. Ripped jeans, a crop top, some cool shoes, and a big jacket he can nuzzle into? That's already enough for him.

He wears corsets a lot.

I am convinced that Paul is the one with the most knowledge surrounding makeup. He is a master at it and he does apply some whenever he has time to do it.

He uses glitter on his hair and skin. Paul has one of those bodysprays that smell like cotton candy, are pink, and contain glitter.

You can hear him coming. He wears a lot of rattling accessories.

So yeah, while he enjoys glamor, he can really do without it. It really depends on the day.

Okay and hear me out. Paul in drag. Oh. My. God.

🍭 Marko 🍭

Marko always dressed very exotically, paring things he had done himself with dark leather pants to make the whole outfit look fresh and still dark.

To be honest, with Marko you never know. His style can and will change every single day and he's heavily influenced by everything he sees/likes.

He does a lot of things himself. Mostly earrings, rings, and extra accessories he adds to clothing pieces he bought. He does put a lot of work into it.

He has one of these leather jackets with thousands of band stickers and other stuff on it. It looks super cool.

He's the only one that doesn't really wear makeup, simply because he's too impatient and therefore, too busy.

Marko is a very big fan of colors, unlike the others who mostly prefer darker colors.

Marko strikes me as someone who's into kid core style. It's so bright and playful and he can do so much with it!

His hair changes too. He's the only one in the group I can actually imagine having short hair. He prefers it long but from time to time, he cuts it off.

Marko always uses cute bandaids when he hurts himself which adds really well to his style.

Beanies. I can really see Marko wear a lot of beanies.

He also steers more into the direction of tight clothing. That makes him and Paul kind of the only ones because the other two Vampires enjoy baggy clothing a bit more.

Marko owns so many converse and in so many colors. He also whines when he has to walk in them because they're uncomfortable as fuck. In Germany we say "Wer schoen sein will, muss leiden." which translates into "If you want to be pretty, you have to go through pain."

Marko has a lot of hair clips he uses from time to time.

Like Paul, he's not scared of wearing something that shows his tummy. To be honest, he doesn't really care.

Marko collects weird socks, change my mind. He has so many.

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rottenbrainstuff · 2 years ago

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Haha I just saw an Instagram post complaining about how we went from beautiful masterful renaissance paintings to Jackson pollock paint splatters.

You know what guys, I don’t even LIKE a lot of contemporary art that much ok? I don’t, yet I still find myself defending it all the time and that makes me mad, don’t make me have to defend this stuff I don’t even like.

To boil it down extremely, extremely, extremely simply:

1) once cameras were invented and became widely accessible, art was no longer stuck having to be strictly representational, and artists began to get more and more experimental with how art could be used to express feelings and ideas, instead of just a strict representation of reality. Artists like to explore boundaries and limitations. Every new movement was shocking when it was first a thing. Those impressionist water lilies that are so popular everyone knows them nowadays: people hated that when it was new. Van Gogh? The art movement he was a part of was literally called “the wild beasts” (fauvism) because people thought it was so ugly and crude.

2) the old masters you are probably thinking about learned painting as a trade, like a guy going to a technical school to become a mechanic, and most of them started learning it as children. Most of those paintings you admire so much were never created to be the artist’s personal expression, they were mostly hired by wealthy people to paint something that showed off the wealthy person’s wealth, either “look, I can afford to hire someone to paint this giant ass painting” or literally “look, I hired someone to paint this giant ass painting of myself standing in front of my massive land and wearing all my expensive accessories”. Those were the first vanity selfies! Back in the day you had to pay someone and wait three years for it. Lol. As that one popular post going around tumblr says: if we had people quitting highschool and going to painting school as teenagers, then having every one of their expenses paid by rich people so they can just sit and work on a painting for three years, you’d have beautiful stuff like that.

3) there ARE still beautiful representational paintings being made, actually! You just aren’t seeing them because you’re not going out to a variety of shows, you’re only seeing the famous controversial works that everyone likes to complain about. For instance JUST off the very top of my head, every year my city has a big western uh festival I guess and there is a showing of western artists and sculptors making art with western Canadian themes. I have never seen so many beautiful paintings of landscapes or horses. Tons of them. Probably at least 50 artists. Just in my small area of Canada. They’re still there. Why aren’t you trying to go out and see it? Why are you just looking for the weird avant-garde stuff to complain about?

4) perhaps most importantly: it’s not being made for you. That sounds rude maybe or overly simplistic but like that’s the best I can explain it and do try to wrap your head around it: the weird-ass art that’s a banana duct-taped to the wall: that’s not being made for you, you’re not the audience. You know, those old portraits, they were meant to be looked at and admired by a large audience of people, but this new stuff, it’s really not going for the same thing at all, it’s not made to be appealing to the general public as a pretty object of decoration. It’s got a WHOLE different thing it’s trying to do. I’m not defending the weird stuff and saying it’s all awesome and you’re just too stupid to understand it, trust me I went to college with some of the most insufferable artistes you can imagine and I know exactly the process and the intent behind all of this and guys I don’t necessarily like it either! I don’t. I’m just trying to explain. It’s different, it’s a whole different animal, it’s like complaining that you don’t like action movies when you went to see an action movie: you’re just not the audience. I know action movies are dumb and loud, they’re supposed to be like that, that’s how people like them, and it’s not a tragedy that we don’t have people making black and white silent movies anymore… it’s just different.

Whether you think this stuff is worthy of being displayed in large museums and having tax dollars spent on it, my friends that’s a totally different conversation that I’m not having here, and I don’t necessarily disagree with you there: I just, look, I spend four years and a lot of money learning art history and I took an honest to god class about how to look at contemporary art, and it just makes me feel tired when people make these dumb “kids these days” posts about why we don’t have renaissance paintings these days, implying it’s some sort of fault of degenerate or lazy artists who just don’t want to paint good anymore. That’s all I’m saying.

Ok?

#art rant

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thelovingroses · 2 years ago

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Instagram baddies, internet insecurities.

Source: Google images.

In today's world where you can access everything so easily with just tapping those screens. Like interactions with strangers from local or worldwide is a common thing now, I mean look at us all people who mostly found our soulmates or friends from an apps. I don't say it's bad, its not bad at all tho I've met some great people through internet and they're the same as my own real life family. People have preferences from where they should meet whether it's on real world or virtual. The facts that some people might use it in a bad way such as for cheating behind their real life partner or stuff admitting they're Single so they can get along and fool another chicks or dudes just for sex and you can't keep yo dick to yourself. That's the real problems of why this shits are seriously toxic.

I know some of you well all of you I can say, always check and stalk on your boyfriends/girlfriends accounts to see what they're up to. Sounds like creeps but what sad about dating life nowadays is there's no more trust and this kind of behaviors consider as normal as long as your partner's didn't know about it. Sick for sure.

Source: Google images.

There's some girls who always stalk me and think I will stole their boyfriends I mean bitch, I don't even wants my exes so why I want your boyfriends? Not sound too materialistic or being gold digger but I care about money more than a boy just for fuck and leave I can get that easily trust me. My money never hurts but yo man will leave either die or cheating on you stop being a simp.

Source: Google images.

Stop this shit, I know I really know how it feels when your boys follow another girls especially those whose half naked showing their booty and shits. But believe me you better than those girls, don't you see ever behind the scenes? The struggles of them to get that damn hot poses and how they do that for money yep money. Don't worry if your boyfriends poor those girls will never think your boyfriends exist in this world. It's all about money and attentions. Why they show their body? To earn that damn money cuz it's their job. Let's say selling your body without touching just stare and for likes. A brands will endorse them and they will earn money correct again it's all about money. Nobody wants to show their body for free. Even they need to do proper billions surgeries just to look perfect. From money to money.

I mean don't worry about this celebrities but worry when yo man follow some girls in their area and said it's only a friends believe me you better start run lol. Nah seriously you better take a look on it, instagram baddies doesn't want them but probably those average and desperate chick for sure wants them. But also don't just blame one side person, cheating is the agreement of both person. So blame your boyfriend too instead of attacking another female who doesn't know anything if she knows it's different case and for sure she's crazy bitch who likes leftover. You are stupid if you fight over 1 unfaithful men when you can get better man out there, girl there's plenty of fish on the sea. If your fish dead, find another whale. Stop stalking you better know nothing, the less you know something it will never hurt you. Whatever he did behind you it's none of your business but it's him. He have seriously insecurities who wants to get validate by a lot chicks, unfortunately. loyal men is secure and happy with just 1 person applies to female too. Loyalty is expensive only the classy ones own that. Point to be noted.

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years ago

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Jack Bass x Younger!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Bass's.

Notes:

I have no idea when this is supposed to be set. Just go with it.

I have two things to say about Jack in this gif, though. 1. Does he not know how to carry a tray. And 2. I love this statement, here. Its like 'Bart's Dead, Chuck. I can barely contain my joy, Chuck. Its taking all my willpower, Chuck, to keep a monotonous expression. Also Chuck I am carrying a tray, do you see this?'

Plot: Bart Bass decides to be his creepy fucking self (Not that Jack is exponentially better in any way but whatever) towards you, Chuck's best friend- but thankfully, Jack accidentally walks in on the scene and gives you a get out of jail free card.

Good old 'lesser of two evils' shit. I love stuff like that.

Warnings: BART BASS being predatory, and a bit of age difference (You and Jack. I'm going by actors ages though so there's only a, like, 11 year age gap between him and Chuck which is not that bad if you ask me). Sexual references.

~~~

Chuck looks from his phone, that's flashing Blairs name, to you and your big, wide eyes and lips mouthing 'Don't you dare', then to his father quietly tapping away on his phone on the couch a few feet away... then back at his phone.

"Charles- " You hiss, prepared to threaten his very existence but he cuts you off first- slipping off the bar stool beside you and heading for the hallway.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom."

Why am I friends with him again!? You think, but stay quiet and hope that Bart doesn't realise that you're back there despite having said hello to you earlier when he came in. You think, if you stay quiet like a mouse, he will forget your existence and keep texting until Chuck gets back- although, who knows how long he and Blair can go on for.

Depends what its about, honestly. If its about revenge or espionage... well, the conversation could last quite some time.

Should I just leave?

The impulse to run away is a strong one, as you sit there with your cheeks heating up and you start to feel nauseated. You never liked Bart Bass, from the moment you met him. Before that, actually. You had heard Chuck talking about him to Nate before you even became friends with them, and none of what you heard was good. And then you did meet him, one day when Chuck invited you over to do a school project. Or 'school project' as he so obnoxiously put it. You really did end up just doing a school project, though. Hence your friendship nowadays. Bart was creepy towards you even then, at 16 with terribly died hair and the wrong eyeshadow.

You've been very careful since then to never be alone with him like this. You would talk to him at parties if you were forced to, say hello to him when Chuck had you at his place and the man walked by, but that is the extent of your communication with the creep. Always, always, someone would be around. Chuck, mostly. But also staff, or Nate, or random fundraiser ladies, or Jack who Chuck the bastard never left alone with all willy-nilly like this, unfortunately, or Lily, or literally anyone else possible on the earth.

You've even hidden away in the men's bathroom, which is disgusting no matter how expensive the restaurant, with Nate before to get away from this man when Chuck once ditched you both at a dinner with him. And that's the story of how you got your first kiss, too, and it was from Nate Archibald. Hell yes.

That's how much this man makes you want to grab your bag and flee.

But you don't. You stay glued to your seat, super still, listening only to the tap-tap-tapping noises that Bart makes and the bump-bump-bump noises your heart is making right into your throbbing ears.

Until it stops.

Not the bump-bump-bumping, oh no. The tapping. And, nightmarishly, it's replaced by a groan and footsteps coming towards your turned back.

"Y/N," As soon as he says your name, his hands fall on your your shoulders and you literally jump under his touch. Shit- Shit- Fuck- what's happening- "I've been meaning to speak with you recently but Chuck- ah. Well you know him. He refused to share with me your telephone number. But I knew you'd turn up here at some point, so not to worry."

"Uh... right." You cant even force yourself to be your normal, cheery, polite self in this position. You just want him to get. off. of. you.

"Did you want a drink?" He asks, in that possibly cheery (But only because its slightly louder then his usual husk level) but mostly still scary voice he uses to convey emotion, letting go of you thankfully and rounding to the other side of the bar. You shake your head, though. He raises his brows, picking out a scotch for himself. "You don't drink? Shocking, seeing as you're friends with my son."

Oh I drink. You think, giving him a shrug. Just not in situations like this one. Also, what must he think of Chuck? Jesus Christ. For sure, your boy likes debauchery but what's wrong with that?

"Well, I like that." Bart pauses before pouring his drink, to appreciate you. "Mature."

Damn it. It makes your skin absolutely crawl.

"So... " You take a deep breath, tucking your hair back behind your ears rather then ruffling it back like you usually would to get it out of your face- lest that be recognised as some kind of extremely subtle form of flirting. God, fear makes you think weird things. "What did you want to discuss?"

"Oh- Just, your future. Where are you going to school? Will you be sticking close to us?"

Us? US? No, I'll be far far away, from you.

You don't really want to tell Bart where you're going to be going to school, because in your fear addled brain you know that that will just lead to 'Which campus?', or 'Where will you be staying?' and you really don't want it to go there.

You're just taking another, shakier deep breath, when the front door of the apartment opens and shuts loudly and set of feet trample down the hallway towards you. Immediately total relief plashes over you and you wipe your face. Oh, thank god.

Jack Bass appears in the doorway to the living room, looking as put-together yet somehow simultaneously still totally relaxed, as always, and forces aa polite smile onto his handsome face. "Brother. Y/N? Its good to see you."

You have no idea. "Good to see you too Jack. Uh- Chuck's in the bathroom."

"Thanks. For that... enlightening, information, Y/N. I needed that." You cheeks flare up in embarrassment, but ultimately you just roll your eyes as Jack flashes you a subtle wink, and turns promptly to his - much, - older brother. "Bart."

The older brother in question looks less then pleased at his baby brothers appearance in his home. Right now. And he possibly isn't thrilled about that little wink, either. Like you two are in on some kind of joke together. "Jack... What are you doing here?"

"Simmer down, bro. Just visiting." Even you know that that excuse is weak, but anything that comes out Jack's own monotonous voice right now is blessed where you're concerned so you certainly don't say anything. Or make any faces, which would be more appropriate. "Y/N, I don't think Bart-man here's too happy about my presence." Hm, no. You'd have to agree with that observation- not that you've looked up at Bart since Jack came in. You wont risk it. Jack glides through the room with the practised grace of a man who's lived 3 quarters of his life in suits and the other, happier quarter in board shorts, and ends up right next to your chair, an arm resting on the bench in front of you.

If you weren't already so nervous about Bart, you would blush about Jack.

"At least tell me you're glad to see me."

You grin, which is less forced then you thought it would be prior to trying it. Damn, he's good. You think, realising he just swepped in here and made you comfortable in less then 50 words. "Always, 'Uncle Jack'."

"Oh," He groans, like it physically pained him to hear you tease him like that. A tiny smirk even slips through his usually emotionless - well, not emotionless. He has one standing colour, that being sly, - stone statue of a face. "'Uncle Jack'- Please, stop. I'm barely a decade older then you."

That's enough to make anything else possible, inappropriate. Unfortunately. "Hey, I said I'm glad to see you." You wink, a bit sly yourself. "Count your blessings."

His grin widens a bit, like the dangerously charming Cheshire cat-type that he is. Genes that Chuck inherited, clearly, if his track record with girls say anything at all, but that Bart obviously missed out on. "You've got a point."

"She's a remarkable young woman." Bart pipes up, making your stomach tie itself up in knots again, and you immediately revert your gaze to your lap. Remarkable young woman... you want to barf. "Who, I was actually having a conversation with before you burst in here, unannounced." He takes a slow sip of his drink, then mutters. "And uninvited."

"Well that's great." Jack straightens up, clapping his hands together and finally showing his teeth in a smile. They're really freaken white, compared to his skin, deeply tanned by the hot Australian sun. "A visit would be kinda uncomfortable without a conversation; I'll join. I can converse with the best of 'em, Bart. I assure you."

"It was private." The old man sneers, thinking that he's got the upper hand on Jack, and all you can do is hope to god that he's wrong.

Jack turns his head back to look at you, and you meet his gaze tentatively. Your eyes scream, 'Please don't leave me alone with that guy'. He promptly looks back to Bart. "Well Bart why don't we ask the lady in the room what she wants? We are gentlemen here aren't we?" Then Jack makes a face, all crumpled up and unsure, for a moment. "Err. Well actually... 'gentleman' might be a bold faced lie. We'll ask anyway. Y/N! Do you mind if I weigh in here?"

"Not at all." You say quickly, flashing a tiny, thankful smile. He gives you another wink- this time actually subtle. So Bart didn't see it. Your smile gets a little bit bigger, relaxing. He's got you.

"Great." You watch him pull out the stool beside you, that Chuck - who has still not returned from his phone call with Blair. You assume some, likely cruel vengeance must be involved. Possibly involving that Humphrey guy, - had vacated and settles down in it. He then sets his arms firmly on the bench and looks up attentively at Bart, not breaking eye contact with him. Boy these Bass's like their stare downs. "So?" He prompts, expectantly. And a little arrogantly- a Bass speciality that you truly don't mind at all. "What's on the agenda, today?"

Bart glares heatedly, back.

Throughout the awkward discussion between the three of you, which your good friend Chuck has yet to return to discover - at this point you're resigned to him having climbed out the window and scaled the building probably, - , Jack constantly, skilfully changes the subject for you whenever Bart rears to close to somewhere uncomfortable. He makes jokes that make you laugh, he nudges you with his elbow at times - but never touches you any more then that, although you honestly wouldn't mind it if he did, - and takes the attention off you a lot. At times you truly thought you saw steam come out of Bart's ears.

When finally Bart gives up and excuses himself, saying he as an early dinner with Lily, you feel exhausted and relieved. After the door swings shut behind him, you cover your face with your hands and deeply sigh.

"So, what was that about? You looked like a trapped mouse. I recognise that look, I invented that look." You pull back slightly from your hands and glance over at him, to see him thoughtful for a moment. "Well, not by making it. By... causing... it... Either way, it was not good." He shakes his head, taking a sip of his own drink - scotch, - that he made Bart pour for him; Raising his eyebrows at you for an explanation over the rim of the glass.

Jack's always been great, like this. Even when he was horrible, he was the lesser of two evils between him and Bart. Good for a laugh and quality eye candy in a pinch- and that counts for a hell of a lot when it comes to surviving Bart Bass and the Upper East Side. And he had the power and pull of an adult, but knew what the hell was going on like one of you.

So he always made you feel at ease.

You ruffle your hair back, and sigh, straightening your back finally from their hunched over position they live in when you're uncomfortable and pushing back your shoulders. "He was just, saying some weird stuff... and Chuck disappeared to talk to Blair." At that, Jack nods in total understanding. Like ah, yeah. Got ya. Finally, you shrug. "He just makes me really uncomfortable. No offence, but I hate your brother."

As you watch Jack's eyes don't even flicker; He's totally on board with what you've said. Then he finishes the rest of his scotch in one gulp. "Ahh- I hate him too."

"As do we all." Chuck's voice suddenly pops up, as he appears in the doorway like Jack had earlier. You have to practice some serious self control so as to not laugh, at Chuck so coincidentally turning up again at the perfect moment to proclaim his hatred for his father. Jack grins back at Chuck coldly, nodding. Yeah. "Anyway, Y/N, I apologise but I'll be having to abandon you. Blair's waiting for me at her, empty, apartment." He pauses for a moment for dramatic effect, in perfect Chuck Bass fashion, and you roll your eyes, grinning. Jack smirks. "But you're welcome to stick around a while and help yourself to the amenities All on my tab, of course. Good to see you again, Jack." Then he pockets his phone and heads toward the door. The second Bass of the day leaves the building.

"Bye, nephew!" Jack waives as the elevator doors close behind Chuck then swiftly turns around back to you, to which you raise your eyebrows. "So, what do we do now?"

"I dunno." Shrugging you grin and turn your stool to angle your legs towards Jack. "When Chuck says those magical words 'All on my tab'," Those words, oh; You speak them with just as much raw, breathy sexual arousal as the man himself would. As the words demand. 'All on my tab'. Good lord, sex if they were words. "I tend to take advantage."

"An easy girl to please; That's what I like to see." Your cheeks flame up at those words out of Jack's mouth as he turns to look down at the room service menu. Yes, Jack Bass has toed the line, between platonic and flirtatious since the very moment you met the man... but that seemed a little bit more then toeing the line.

And you get a far different reaction to him doing it then you do the other Bass brother.

You don't even really mind the implications of his words.

"You're staying back with me?" You ask, feeling hopeful at the idea.

"Yeah well, I cant in, uh, good conscience," He makes a bit of a show to you, of pressing his hand to his chest totally earnestly as those words 'good conscience' come out of his mouth. "leave you here unguarded in case Bart comes back, can I? Besides, the way you said 'All on my tab'- man, you could sell moonshine at an AA meeting with that voice."

"Ha," You laugh, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. "Well, thanks."

"Oh. Don't thank me. You're just using what uh, your mama gave you. I actually encourage you totally, to do that more often- "

"No!" You exclaim, sighing in exasperation; But there is still a smile on your face you cant seem to shake. "For not leaving, today. When you walked in. It would've sucked if you had, not that I would've blamed you at all."

"Hey, just call me your knight in shining armour." He doesn't look up from the menu, flicking through it. Then turns to you with one of those beach boy/politician, toothless grins of his. "Besides you were automatically, my favourite person in the apartment. I mean, anyone with... uhhh- different, appendages to what I have, instantly gets a one-way ticket access to my rare bouts of chivalry. Now come over here, pick out what you want off here."

You just gape at him and that comment, making him stifle a laugh and return to the menu himself.

Bass's.

#Jack Bass #Jack Bass x Reader #Gossip Girl Jack Bass x Reader #Jack bass x Reader Oneshot #Bart Bass #Chuck Bass #Oneshot #Gossip Girl #Gossip Girl x Reader

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docholligay · 4 years ago

Note

Hi Doc! I'm looking to buy a nice wine to celebrate with tonight and I've got about $100 set aside for it. Is that enough to buy a good wine with, or should I splurge a little more? I'm not necessarily looking for a high alcohol content, but I'm not afraid of that either; I'm looking for something that tastes lovely and goes well with fish. Do you have any recommendations?

Wine Anon: Ok so I consulted my co-celebrator and here are some answers!

I thought we were doing a fancy dinner but we're getting a bunch of sushi with some appetizers (edamame, maybe some oysters.) We aren't doing dessert with dinner tonight. We are eventually going to do a 3 course dinner with dessert, and we will be getting several bottles so I'll def have to come back to you for that!

I'm very new to wine, I know that I like rosé and some sweet whites? The last white that I got that I liked was a pear wine from Olive Garden (I know, I am the Haruka of my relationship.) It was actually the wine that convinced me to not give up on trying new wines! I think I'd only had a few up until then and they were dreadful. I think I don't like dry?

Wine comments from my so: dry, woody, not sweet, not leggy, anything he can taste the tannins in is a no-go so no reds? He favors white but he won't say no to a good rosé. His first wine love was a 5y Sauvignon Blanc he had at a some fancy rich dude's party when he was 17 so he can't recall the name haha. He mentioned New Zealand and Chilean wines were good.

If it comes down to it, I don't mind getting a good bottle heavily favoring his tastes (we're doing this for him) but if you can think of 2 bottles that we'd both separately like, I wouldn't mind that either.

Thank you so much for your help!

First of all, congrats to your mancandy for knowing the difference between tannic and dry. There's a huge misconception that dry means tannic, and they're totally different things. I assume it's because tannins have a sort of dryish feel in the mouth. Anyhow, I DO want to argue the fact that reds are exclusively tannic--there are plenty of low tannin reds--but that's another post, as red wouldn't really go with what you were eating unless we were really trying to make it stretch.

Secondly, all of this assumes that you have no interest whatsoever in sake. I LOVE sake, and it's my always go to for sushi, and my frequent go-to for light fish dishes in general. But it's not super accessible, and some (wrong) people flat do not like it.

Thirdly THANK YOU SO MUCH for just giving me a goddamn number!! My least favorite word on EARTH is "affordable." It's meaningless. Just tell me your number! I may not be able to HELP you, but I won't JUDGE you. For anything you need help finding. So bless you, and it was a MAJOR reason I decided to answer this. Whites tend to be cheaper (unless they are Champagne) for a wide variety of reasons, so I don’t think MUCH on this list will hit about 35-40.

A note: Unless something is WIDELY available commercially, I just recommend TYPES of wine. I would go into your local wine store and ask for these varietals, depending on which one you choose. They may even be able to help select one to go with fish!

So for him, I DO recommend a Sauvignon Blanc, or another high acid wine. The fish used in sushi is mostly fatty and rich, for fish, and these high acid wines give a real element of freshness and even slightly of salt.

You want to know one of my favorite SBs? It's actually something you can get at the goddamn COSTCO, Kim Crawford SB. I don't know if I would call it an OCCASION wine, depending on how we think of things, but it is special enough to be a Shabbat wine in my family, I think you can get it in most grocery stores, and it never disappoints.

If you want SB, but not though, I'd go with a Fume Blanc, which is one of my favorite wines no one seems to know. Fume Blanc is SB, honestly, but made in the US, and pretty much always highly oaky and dry. I love it, but I love that oak shit. Fume Blanc is hard to find nowadays, because of declining knowledge of the name, winemakers are just labeling stuff " Sauvignon Blanc" which, yeah, it's the same grape, but I like to know which SBs have seen some oak, you know? Anyway, I like the rich oakiness paired with salmon rolls especially!

If you want to go with something TOTALLY different that I think he'd like, I think that a Muscadet is going to have a lot of those same flavors while giving him something different. It's BONE DRY, and the acids from it are going to give a lot of those same pleasant associations as SB. A good Muscadet is probably the most expensive thing on this list.

My favorite budget sushi wine, period, is Ovum Big Salt. You are not looking for budget wine, but if you ever are like me and eating buy one get one half off rolls while reading a book, I love Big Salt. It's a Riesling-Gewurztraminer (Somehow I doubt I spelt that second one correctly) blend that legitimately has strong salt overtones. It's also great with coconut shrimp. (Come to think of it, dry Riesling would be a good pairing with this, too)

For you!

Sweeter wines are tougher to pair with sushi than his tastes, but that shouldn't say at all that it's impossible! If you like something labeled pear wine at the Olive Garden (ahahahaha I'm sorry but ahahaha) the wines you like are probably not just sweet in a WINE sense, but probably TRULY sweet.

So I'm going to push you a little bit! These are sweet in the wine category, or if you’re the sort of person who doesn’t eat a lot of sugar, but they aren’t like...fucking moscato or something. A bit more refined, a bit more elegant, and a good way to move into developing your palate, while not being OVERTLY challenging for a newbie.

My wife is at times (often) a Haruka Lite, just one calorie, and moving her to a better and wider palate, I’ve had a lot of luck with bubbles. I think because they are widely fun in their own right, and give another quality to what might otherwise be a too-straight-on glass of wine, so that’s the direction I went here.

Prosecco, specifically a demi-sec. Demi-sec is the sweetest variety of prosecco, and I confess I give this to you more to try and put you on the path of expanding your wine palate than as a specific pairing--like I said, sweets are hard--and you’ll almost certainly need to go to a wine shop to find a version that is both demi-sec and GOOD, which is doable but not easily accessible*.

Now if you want something I ACTUALLY think goes with sushi, I recommend Cremant. Cremant is champagne, made in France, not made IN Champagne. It’s the same shit. It offers a lot of the complexity and delight of Champagne without the cost (Champagne is ALSO a lovely choice! But I generally recommend that if you’re both drinking the same bottle.) I think it’s one of the greatest secrets of the wine world--it’s not like the French terroir outside of Champagne sucks. You will almost certainly have to get this in a wine shop, as it’s not well known by people casually (which is a goddamn shame) in America--the UK tends to have a wider range of them.

I L O V E Cremant. Love. A favorite bubbly. Maybe my favorite, actually? I mean I love Chapagne but like, I have a baby and a mortgage and a budget. And Champagne goes great with sushi! Cremant is, I find, a little less intense than Champagne, which I think will be really good for you as a “beginner” and also the price point tends to be SO APPROACHABLE. Anyway on this one I actually DO have a couple brand recs, because this a thing I drink A LOT, and I’m going to break my ruling about not reccing certain brands ahaha.

J. Laurens Cremant de Limoux --I think this bottle is like 20 bucks locally? It IS more Brut (dry) but I still think it’s really nice, with a citrusy quality that pairs really good with richer fish

Kuentz-Bas Cremant d'Alsace-- I fucking love this bottle. It’s 25, I think, bucks, at my local wine shop. It’s almost...creamy? I know that sounds insane but I can’t think of a better word. I love Alsatian wine in general though. This is a really nice, light wine that I think pairs with TONS of stuff, and would be good with a wide variety of sushi styles.

I had a really amazing Rosé Cremant years ago that had a quality of sweetness to it, but I bought it in a goddamn Tesco in London and so I DOUBT you can find it here. I have it written down in my travel journal though, I think.

ANYWAY I HOPE THIS HELPS SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG.

*This puts me in mind of the One Good Moscato I have ever had, at Alinea (in and of it itself one of the highlights of my life) where it was still too sweet for me personally, but I could recognize the complexity and mastery in the glass. I was shit shocked. Someone remind me to ask @keyofjetwolf what it was, I think she wrote it down, and as I recall it was not a spendy bottle, even.

#I need a tag for food stuff #I guess I'll just reblog this to the side blog #I love that this blog started off as a gay fic blog #and now has a huge food component #I just realized this says tonight and is no longer useful to you #SORRY MY BABY HAD SHOTS IT TOOK ME TWO DAYS TO FINISH THIS

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jj-ktae · 5 years ago

Text

Note I - Ionones -

Moodboard : Courtesy of the lovely Jacqueline @jaebeomsmullet ! Thank you for helping and hyping and just being here whenever I need it.

› Title : Fragrances › Genre : Angst, Fluff, Romance, Composer!Jungkook x Perfume Maker!Reader › Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader › Warning : Mentions of Suicide, heavy subjects, depression (none of these are used with the idea of glamourising mental illness), strong language, smut in later chapters probably. Do not read if any of these trigger you.

› Author’s note : This is another version of the story I wrote a few years ago for GOT7. Some of the events will be different, others will not change just like some paragraphs will be the same and others won’t. Informations, definitions and words are taken from this website.

› Summary : In the world of Perfume making, it is believed that everyone has their own natural fragrance. It is also believed that everyone has that one scent capable of making them feel a thousand things. You find yours in the form of a composer on the verge of breaking, right when you have to face one of the biggest challenge in your life.

Masterlist | Note I - Ionones | Note II : Aldehydes

________

Note I: Ionones

Violets and Iris depend on this group of highly valued synthetic chemicals. Used in small amounts in many floral, green, woody perfumes. Although this group of chemicals is dominated by just two chemicals "Ionone" and "Methyl Ionone" there are many, many isomers and qualities available that give different odour profiles from fruity - violet - green to iris. An important function is they act as blenders in a perfume helping the perfume to smell harmonious. It is also interesting to note that the nose quickly fatigues when smelling Ionones and the smell appears to fade. This same effect is found when smelling natural Violet flowers.

You are going back home the first time you meet him. It takes a nanosecond for the feeling to hit you straight in the bones. It forces your steps to slow down and stiffens your muscles right in the middle of the streets. You think for a minute, contemplative and in awe. Nothing about his physical appearance strikes you at first, it’s your nose doing all the job. It’s overwhelming, and so very rare it can’t be ignored. You come across this type of person once in your life as they say, causing an overwhelming feeling you never pegged as being so entrancing. It brings back memories from times you thought were forgotten, makes you want to scream and laugh. He is leaning on the bridge’s safety barrier and he doesn’t see the way you’re frozen behind him, blinking. You have never met him but it feels like you’ve known him forever.

You almost forget about your dear bed for a minute, but your phone tears you out of your adoration and you snap, your pace fastening before the man can turn around. It is hard to say if he was able to see you, and you don’t want to go away but you’re aware it might seem weird so you just keep on walking. Your body revives and your heart slows when the air turns evanescent.

You’re at home when your phone rings again, which pulls an annoyed groan out of your mouth. “What?” you mumble, plopping on the sofa in desperation.

“You need to come to the meeting tomorrow morning.” Your boss’ voice feels like a scratch on broken glass and you wince, unpleased “they want you to be here, and we have to make sure they’ll work with us.” He adds to soften you.

“I’m never invited to these and I like it better that way, why tomorrow?”

“It’s a big brand, I want them to see who is going to be in charge of their perfume. They don’t want to talk with managers. They don’t care. I promised you holidays and I swear once this is over you’ll have it. Please.”

The headache is pounding yet you sigh, defeated. You can’t reject this, you’re in no position to do that.

“I’ll be here.” You sigh, his relief now evident yet adding to your misery.

He is beaming on the phone, rushing thanks and stuttering, probably because of what seems to be a big, juicy contract. Exciting. His voice is way too loud when he wishes you a good night, leaving you with the deafening silence once he hangs up.

Being a composer is your job. You’re often called a perfume-composer, a perfume maker or even a perfumer and all of these are fine with you. It all explains the same thing; you use your nose to put scents together and create a perfume. You usually work with a tight schedule and precise requests, leaving you with generic projects. They involve what you call capitalist perfumes, targeted and produced for masses instead of harmony. Nowadays perfumes are for ‘suave’, ‘sexy’, ‘dynamic’ or even ‘active’ people. They’re best-sellers, perfumes you smell in the streets, shops, public transport, elevators. They’re repetitive and senseless. What used to be something exciting is now boring and dull.

You’re even starting to be disgusted by some of your creations.

And it’s for a good reason. People do not buy perfume according to their own smell. It’s something that is barely exploited by the companies, the probability of not selling in mass too counterproductive to bother explaining why some perfumes are not suited to everyone. You see it in the stores, how vendors spray anyone willing to be perfumed. These places became a hotchpotch of scents and it gets to your nose so easily it hurts.

You are able to distinguish a lot of different scents, and this is your job. Mixing stuff, looking for new elements, blend oils, this is what you love about making perfume. Your sensitive nose had made you choose a career surrounded by a farandole of fragrances, and while it may sound like a horrible life, it was what had helped you survive the probability of a boring job surrounded by horrible coworkers. It’s a solace so unusual and mysterious that you can selfishly appreciate its beauty and complexity on your own.

But now, you find yourself doubting as you peak at your neat organ*, brown and rustic. You didn’t sign for tasteless nights and headaches.

Going to sleep is hard that night, when your brain can’t forget about this man and his scent, his oh so perfect scent which you have yet to put a finger on. You finally forget about him and your brain turns off, while another person is going back home, head heavy and mind lost.

Jungkook throws his bag on his table and goes on the floor, silent.

He wasn’t able to end his life, again.

It’s hard to believe that you are currently meeting with a famous brand directly. Most of the time, they would meet your managers and you’d have a project sent over your way, leaving you a mere two weeks to work on a foolish project with foolish requests.

Today you are in shock though, because they are asking you what you want to do. It’s the first time you get asked about this and it frightens you, it scares the hell out of you when you suddenly have too much freedom. All ideas evaporate, like you have no taste and no dreams for a perfect perfume.

The woman’s stilettos make too much noise on the floor, and she speaks in a slow and irritating manner, like you’re too stupid to understand her request. She comes closer and you smile, weakly. It’s a mix between pain and fear, it looks like she is about to eat you up. Maybe it is because you look like a deer caught in headlights. “I’m asking you about your plans concerning our next fragrance. You get that we want an Eau de Parfum, and not an Eau de Toilette, which means we need lasting scents. We have no guidelines, no themes, no requests, just a thirst for your creativity. You have what it takes to make it from scratch without us poking into your business- I mean, I'll be here to check on how it is going, of course.” She speaks words at an incredibly fast pace, with a tone deprived of any doubt.

All you feel is your boss’ stare, boring holes into your back; he knows what you’re going to answer. “I’m afraid we don’t work that way. How am I supposed to know what kind of product you need? Don’t you already have an advertisement sample to show me? A muse, somebody representing the brand?” You try the best you can, because now you have too many possibilities and it can’t happen.

“We only have you and your talent, for now.”

Your boss walks up to you two and waves his hands “Not that we think you’re not worth our time, but we mostly work based on requests. We need a guideline.” He pleads, and his fake laugh nearly makes you scoff.

But the woman is thick headed, and she points a finger at you, accusingly. “This person doesn’t need us in order to create a perfume. We’ve been following you for so long after your last fragrance won 1st rank in Vogue’s top 10 Perfume recommendations. You were not easy to find, though.”

But you know, you know it wasn’t your own work, but simply something you were asked to do. “I’m sorry madam, but I simply did as I was told. Without this, I’m nothing.” You say and it sounds depreciatory concerning your own capacities but you don’t care. You are getting so scared right now that you’re ready to call yourself a scam in front of anyone.

The woman laughs and it looks like she can see through you “There is a thousand way to create a perfume with the same elements. You simply refuse to admit you’re a genius, but we both know you can’t waste your time beating yourself.” She adds and lets the contract fall on the glass table, stilettos beating the floor again and her expensive bag back on her shoulder.

“What the hell was that?” Your boss takes the contract and starts reading, but you just want to cry. You don’t want to do this, because you’re scared and afraid and you know you will fail. At the same time, you wanted this, you wanted to create on your own. You had thrown away so many samples until now, thinking it was useless. Now that somebody is asking for your true self, you back off. Your brain screams at you to stop being so contradictory and grasp that opportunity but you just feel numb and pressured and it’s enough to petrify you.

“I can’t. We can’t.” You mumble but your boss looks shocked, mouth agape and fingers gripping the contract.

“This is big, Y/N. Looks at this.” He says and you feel like fainting when you see the amount of money they are willing to pay. You know your boss will never refuse this and panic takes over.

Your shaky fingers almost tear the contract away “I’m going to fail; they will lose their time and the company will be ruined, you know it!”

But he knows better and smiles sweetly at you. “You’re always complaining about plain perfumes and cheap fragrances. You’re given a chance to compose on your own and I fully support you, so please tell me you’ll try, at least. We still have an observation period in case you can’t do it, okay?” you know he is not thinking about the money only, yet you hardly think he is thinking about your well-being either but you can’t refuse now, and you’re left with two pieces of paper and a lump in your throat as your boss goes out of the big office.

For the next couple of days it’s all you can think about, while your boss keeps on calling to make sure you’ll do it. You try to act rebellious a few times but to no avail; you end up agreeing because you don’t have the luxury nor the power to reject this offer.

You agree but deep inside you’re burning with fear. It’s not even exciting, it’s like a wide ocean, with no shores and huge waves. It’s suffocating.

The second time you meet the mysterious guy, he is at the same spot. He keeps on leaning against the bridge, and his whole existence looks like a misery but his smell makes you slow down again. It’s overwhelming, almost unbearable. There is no way a perfume can do that.

It’s a natural smell.

He doesn’t see you and you don’t see his face, but this is not even important right now. Your brain goes back and forth, and it’s a long journey to your past. This guy doesn’t even feel your presence and when you walk away, the feeling is gone, and you breathe again.

“I’m glad you decided to take this offer.” You’re just behind her. She is walking fast, passing halls after halls and you look around, unfamiliar with the smell. It’s like you’re entering the mafia because everyone bows like she owns the place. Only her smell lingers, suiting her perfectly.

Leather.

“As written in the contract, we will provide a lab and supplies. We can have everything you need, so feel free to ask.” She is bragging, and you know it’s her way of making you feel at ease but it’s even scarier. Obviously they are going to provide whatever you need. It's a big investment for little result.

“Oh, and I’ll introduce you to your assistant.” She turns around and winks at you.

“I- I have an assistant?” you stutter, it’s unreal. You don’t mind working alone- why would you even need someone to help?

“You’ll have an assistant, of course. You’re telling me you don’t have one at your company ?” You shake your head with power and she gasps “See? You don’t deserve to be treated this way.” She whispers and opens a door, white and shiny.

When you enter, the smell is strong with disinfectant. There’s no doubt they deep cleaned this place for the launching of a new product. The walls are grey, covered by old advertising pictures from the brand, the furniture seems brand new and there is a man. He looks around you age, with designer clothes and loafers. His hair is blond and he is wearing blue lenses.

“You’re here already?” The woman asks and he nods, his plumps lips revealing shiny teeth. He looks so happy.

“I couldn’t miss it, not when you’re bringing a genius here.” He talks funny and walks with no hidden enthusiasm. He looks like he is out of a fashion show and it’s making you step back with apprehension.

“Good, I guess we can start with the introductions. Meet your assistant.” He offers a hand and his smile widens when you reciprocate the gesture.

He smells like your latest creation “I’m Park Jimin. Nice to meet you, boss.”

Boss. What the hell.

“Nice...to meet you too?” It sounds like a question, but it’s actually a plea. You don’t want to do this.

“I’m so glad you agreed on working with us! It’s not easy to know who hides behind perfumes and it was hard to find you but we did !” He beams at the woman as she taps his shoulder, nodding.

“You found me ? How ?”

“I saw you at a launch product party. When I heard it was you I was so happy. I’m a big fan.” He laughs and you feel even more burdened. The woman is looking at you two like a proud - and rich - mother

“You’re wearing-”

“Yeah, it’s yours! Amazing, right? Oh, tell me if it suits me!” He lifts his head and offers you his neck, giggling.

“Jasmine. You bring out the jasmine in it.”

It’s true, Jasmine suits him.

He makes a weird noise before pointing a finger at the lady “I told you! She is a genius! It’s exactly why I bought it.”

“Since you’re getting along pretty well, I’ll leave you in the hands of this young boy.” Her strong smell of musk stays behind her when she turns around and leaves the room.

“I’m such a big fan of you. You might find it weird, but I bought every single perfume you made. For study purposes, of course!” He is embarrassed but a second later, he is back to serious. “You don’t wear perfume.” He looks intrigued.

“It blurs my sense of smell.”

“Oh my god, this is exactly what a genius would say.” He shakes his head, amazed at your apparently smart answer and proceeds to show you around the lab, the explanations never ending.

The rest of the day is spent next to this guy, who knows every single person in the building. You keep on shaking hands, and soon, you’re exhausted. Jimin is chatting non-stop, offering you drinks and being a perfect assistant.

You discover he is still an apprentice in the perfume industry and is aiming to become a composer for the brand. He tells you he loves fashion, and this you noticed, but he also says something that triggers you.

I want to be like you

You want to laugh at him for being such a fanboy, and you tell him numerous times that the perfumes you made are only things you were asked to create, that it wasn’t your own work, but he brushes you off, explaining you know nothing about your own skills. Jimin is the type of guy who loves to socialise, he has this way of communicating that makes everyone love him. The same day, you go back home with his phone number saved and a tone of messages from him about how excited he is to be working under your care.

On your way back home, you don’t see the guy.

Jungkook has plenty of time to think and he doesn’t like it. His apartment is silent and not even the cars passing by outside can ease the emptiness. He doesn’t dare look at the papers scattered on the floor. They are all creased, and the trash is full. He wants to crash the whole place; he wants to tear it to pieces. It’s infuriating, how everything is here for purpose and he has nothing to look forward to.

He can’t stand it anymore.

His phone rings but he ignores it. His best friend has been calling all day, and he knows he’ll receive a lot of nagging from him but he doesn’t care.

Soon, nobody will have to deal with his abnormal self.

Maybe it was supposed to end like this, even though he has no idea when it actually started. All Jungkook knows is that at some point, he became useless. He used to be efficient, powerful. But now everything is dull. His eyes burn, his ears ring, his mouth is dry.

This is garbage. You’re not what you used to be. Where did your talent go ?

He can stand critiques; he knows the music industry and its perks but he can’t stand being belittled. He doesn’t want anyone to question his way of functioning but it was starting to get a bit too frequent for his taste.

He gets up and goes to his huge and sophisticated window.

He wants everything to stop.

“How did you end up being a perfume maker?” Jimin is swallowing his food, filling the whole lab with spiciness and you want him to go away.

“Give me the bergamot sample.” You open another small bottle and ignore his question, trying to focus on your task.

“You’ve been on this all day, have a break, boss.” He tries although his voice is muffled by all the food he is trying to swallow. You know he is right. You have absolutely no idea about what you’re doing, so you mix stuff in hope of a miracle. Nothing works, everything smells terrible, it’s disgusting even.

“Here, drink something, at least. Take your time.” He coos with a worried expression.

You sigh and rub your face, tired. “I can’t do this.”

“I know, they gave you nothing. I’m here to help so don’t stay quiet and let’s think about this together. I know how they work, let’s take our time, no one is rushing you yet.”

You look at the scattered glass bottles and smelling strips. This is a mess.

Jimin asks you if you want to go to a party held by another luxury brand the same night but you refuse. He isn’t surprised when you tell him you hate going to these places. You’re not the type of person who likes to socialise, and your assistant understands but tells you that you have to go with him next time. You also refuse.

So you go back home. Your head hurts, your body is sore, and your brain is empty. The air is thick with humidity but you like how it resets your sense of smell, erasing all the stuff you’ve been smelling all day.

The guy is here. He is leaning against the bridge again but something about him irks you. He is shivering. His smell slowly fills your nostrils as you approach him and you can’t help but notice that he is leaning against the barrier a bit too much. He sighs, again and again and when he leans even more to look at the river under the bridge, you stop walking.

You’re right behind him.

It’s true that you’re not into socialising, but you definitely recognise someone in pain. His smell makes you move on your own and before he can sigh some more, you find yourself next to him.

It’s even stronger now.

He isn’t surprised when he feels somebody next to him. He stays quiet and acts like he is alone but straightens his back like he was caught doing something wrong.

“Did you...lose something?” You ask, peeking at the river far under your feet. You know he didn’t, but he doesn’t need to know that it’s not the first time you see him here.

“No.” His answer is short and it allows you to finally take a good look at his face. His brown locks cup his face, from his shiny eyes to his round nose and pouty lips. He’d look cool if it wasn’t for his pitiful aura.

“Are you trying to...?” You begin but his eyes go wide and you both understand. He can’t hide it anymore. You don’t notice how blunt your words are but your brain is processing too many things to focus on your conversational skills.

“Can you...leave me alone?” his voice is low and the words are slow. He is almost pleading.

“I can’t. You’re about to do some serious shit right now.”

“I’m not. Go away.” He asks again and you can feel how annoyed he is now.

“Look, I don’t know what happened, but I doubt you should be thinking about this.” He laughs at you and you regret trying to be such a smart-ass.

“How would you know? Just go, please.” He is irritated now, but you can’t let him do that. His smell works like a spell on you.

“I just do. Stop this. I’m not going anywhere until you go back to a safe place.”

“There is no such place. We don’t even know each other.” He is now looking at you with a bored expression.

“You must have a place to stay.”

He sighs loudly and turns to you, looking exhausted “I don’t, I’m homeless. What are you going to do about it?”

“Then come to my place.” You shrug and he makes a face. There is no way you just asked him to come to your place, right?

“You must be crazy.” He breathes but you shake your head. You can’t let this smell go to waste. Not when you don’t know what it is.

Your mind is screaming.

“I’m perfectly fine. If you’re going to do something stupid, I’ll call for help. If you don’t, then come to my place. I have enough room for two anyways.” You are really crazy.

“You’re a stranger. I might be some psycho running out there.”

“You’re none of that. Don’t try to make me back off.” He doesn’t smell like trouble. He smells like safety.

And he is crazier than you, because he agrees. His backpack is firmly hanging on his shoulder when he turns to face you once again.

“You’re not going to let me be.” Jungkook knows that at some point, he won’t get out of this. Now that you discovered what he is about to do, he won’t be in peace until you make sure he is safe, which is totally crazy. Serves him right for not even being good enough to leave peacefully.

“You...agreed?”

“What, you changed your mind? Good, then I can-”

“No! it’s fine! I thought I was being too crazy, that’s all.”

Jungkook nods. “This is crazy, but it can’t get any worse now.”

So you walk in front of him and toward your place. It is hard to think or talk with the smell right behind you, but you keep the game strong and walk proudly, like you just did something great. And you did, you’re bringing him home, when he was about to throw himself off the bridge. You don’t dare ask for more right now, because he might run away.

You open the door and Jungkook stops as soon as he enters the place.

It’s huge.

“There is a guest room but It’s full of my stuff. I’ll take it off tomorrow.” You say, taking off your coat.

“So I’m living here now?” Jungkook scoffs, hoping he is being sarcastic enough to make you give up on him.

“Why not? If you’re homeless, you can stay. I’ll note the door’s passcode on a piece of paper for you. Also, here is the-”

“Wait, I’m not going to live with you.”

“So where are you going to live? On this bridge?”

“I still have a flat until the end of the month, I lied. I thought you were crazy so I said whatever came to my mind.” He confesses, almost feeling guilty.

You’re not mad, not at all. Because now your flat is full of his smell, and it makes your brain work again. You want to know what it is.

“Oh then you’ll be homeless by the end of the month. If you’re uncomfortable, you can pay for your room. I don’t mind.” You shrug and his mouth is wide opened now.

You are really insane. Really.

“This situation is beyond weird. I don’t even know you.”

“And I don’t know you either, but you didn’t slaughter me yet so I guess we’re cool.” You’re being a bit too familiar but he doesn’t notice it, and simply walks deeper into your living-room.

Jungkook doesn’t know what is happening, but in a way, it’s not worse than his current situation. He wouldn’t be homeless; he would never be homeless but he prefers this rather than going back to the family house and admitting he failed. His best-friend is going to lecture him about how the music industry is full of drug addicts, and his parents, oh his parents.

His father would be too happy to prove his superiority.

His pride speaks for him “Okay, I agree. But I’m not staying for free.” He sits on the expensive couch and you know you’ve won this fight.

“Good. My name is Y/N. You are…?”

“Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.” He lets his head fall on the fluffy material and closes his eyes. He is exhausted. He needs some sleep.

“Nice to meet you, Jeon Jungkook.” You speak like a robot, making him smile uncomfortably and mumble an answer. He doesn’t know why he is feeling so calm when he was about to do something horrible. Maybe he is going insane too. Maybe he has no idea what is going on in his life.

“You can wander the flat, I don’t mind. I’m seriously spent so I’ll head to bed. The guest-room is right there and the bedding is clean, I think...ah, the bathroom is at the end of this hall. Knock if you need something.” You escape now, the scent is filling the place and it makes your brain go wild. You don’t need this right now. Or maybe you do and you’re scared he will vanish if you push your luck any further.

“Good night. If you escape I’m going to fight you.” You try to warn him but he simply nods, smiling apologetically. He makes an okay sign and you don’t know why, but you believe him.

You forget about the probability of him being a scam, a thief, a killer or whoever could hurt you in your sleep. You just focus on the feeling, that one scent invading your olfactory bulb and exciting your axons.

You can’t sleep that night. Jungkook either.

He is thinking about a thousand things. He falls asleep at some point, body as exhausted as his brain. When he wakes up, he finds himself alone in the huge flat along with a sticky note, neat on the fridge.

Suit yourself, I’ll be back by 8 p.m.

Even in the middle of this movie-like situation, he can’t help but look around the rooms, staring at the paintings and furniture. The place is cuddly, calm and warm. He starts writing when he doesn’t find it in himself to question his life choices. The living-room is perfect for his plan and it doesn’t take long for him to fill numerous pages.

Inspiration is creeping and he can’t let it go.

___

*Organ : Refers to a unit of stepped shelving containing hundreds of bottles of raw materials. Arrangement is in a way to assist the perfumer in the creation and compounding of perfume compositions.

71 notes · View notes

reikunrei · 4 years ago

Note

For the ask meme: 5, 6, 33, and 41 for reigisa 😋

aaaa my boys!! thanks for sending some numbers :3c

5) Nicknames? Pet names? Any in-jokes?

I certainly think Nagisa would be more keen on coming up with nicknames for Rei, rather than the other way around!! I feel like he’d use a lot of silly, cliche, common couple-y nicknames for him like “darling,” or “baby” when he really wants to tease Rei lol. And in general, I feel like most of those nicknames come with a playful overtone, like to me he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to just do that casually. Overall, I think he’d mostly stick with good ol’ “Rei-chan.”

I do feel like, eventually, Rei would start using more nicknames/pet names. Like perhaps not early in their relationship, perhaps because he’s nervous or doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but one day he suddenly finds himself responding to Nagisa with a “yes, darling?” and it comes so naturally and fits so well, and it snowballs from there. I’m sure he’d stick to the kinds of pet names that are more “proper” sounding, for lack of a better term, like darling, sweetheart, maybe even tossing out a “my love” when they get real sappy gooey lovey dovey

As for in-jokes, I think a big one might be Nagisa’s impersonations of people lol. Maybe I’m just biased because I love when Nagisa impersonates other characters, but maybe it even becomes a sort of game between them, and Nagisa always tries to impersonate lots of different people, or when they go out for lunch or something Nagisa will impersonate one of their friends every time the waiter comes over and tries to make Rei laugh. Of course, every time he impersonates Rei, he bristles and insists he doesn’t actually sound like that, but of course he does.

6) Any tasks that are always left to one person?

While my gut instinct is to say that Rei handles a lot of the more “important” things like planning events, outings, remembering dates, booking appointments etc etc, I feel more like they both take a very even load of everything. Rei certainly would find himself looking over Nagisa’s shoulder, but only because Nagisa can get over-excited and not fully think things through! In general, though, he’s still very smart and very capable of taking care of those kinds of things. Plus, while they’re both very personable, I feel like Rei might overthink things sometimes, and Nagisa can just get to the point and make things short and simple when he needs to.

I do think that one thing Rei would insist on being in charge of, though, is probably doing dishes if they live together lol. I’m sorry, Nagisa, but he seems like the kind of person who isn’t very good at doing the dishes. Like doesn’t pay attention to if there’s still stuff stuck to a plate, doesn’t clean the outside of a pan, will sometimes just rinse utensils off rather than actually using a sponge because “there’s nothing on it!” I’m sorry to do you dirty like that, king, but I really think Rei would go crazy and take on the task of doing the dishes. Although, I feel like Nagisa would be very good at all of the other cleaning, like doing the floors, dusting, cleaning tables/counters, perhaps because he can move his body around more as he does it, so it’s a little more fun for him! So that’s their way of balancing things, lol. Rei cleans all the dishes, and Nagisa cleans the house!

33) What kind of presents do they get each other? Do they only do it on special occasions?

Nagisa absolutely seems like the kind of person to randomly buy little gifts if they catch his eye. Not anything super big or expensive, but I imagine every now and then, when he has little outings, he’ll come home with a little trinket for Rei just because it made Nagisa think of him! When it comes to gifts on special occasions, I think he’d put a little more uuuh I don’t want to say effort, but essentially gifts on special occasions would be bigger/require more planning. Like, if it’s a special occasion, it has to be a very special gift, in his mind. Perhaps those would even be more sentimental ones, like home-made projects that he puts a lot of heart and thought into, and become more of a warm memory than an actual object.

Rei would likely just buy gifts on special occasions, or for very select moments. Like if Nagisa is having a bad day, he might buy him some chocolates or cookies. This isn’t to say that buying people gifts to show your love is a bad thing, but I feel like he’s more likely to do something or say something to show his affection, rather than buy something.

41) Are they party-goers? What are they like when they’re drunk? Does it happen often?

Oh, boy, Rei definitely would NOT be a party-goer lol. I don’t know how prevalent this headcanon is in fandom nowadays, but I know back in like 2013-2015, it was a big things that Nagisa was a sort of party animal, he’s sort of wild, etc etc. But I personally don’t stand by that anymore, so I don’t think he’d really be a party-goer either! Sure, he’s zany and fun and spontaneous at times, but I feel like he’d only sometimes go to parties, and only if he had lots of friends going there as well/if a friend was hosting it. In general, I feel both of them would rather just go out to dinner/have a meal at someone’s house and have it be mellow and casual, maybe play some games, rather than do anything closer to partying.

Was it in Road to the World that we saw Rei get drunk off liquor infused chocolates? Because that is absolutely how I’d imagine him getting drunk. He just sort of drops his filter, becomes way louder than usual, and professes his love for his friends. Rei would be the random drunk girl you meet at a party/bar who compliments you up and down and tells you how beautiful you are for ten minutes straight. That, or if he gets going on a topic he’s passionate about, he just won’t shut the hell up. He certainly becomes a very affectionate and chatty drunk, and while he doesn’t drink alcohol often, I also imagine he’s a bit of a lightweight, so he can get into that state very easily.

Nagisa I feel like would actually really mellow out when he’s drunk. Like, he’s so high-energy, and booze is a downer, so he just gets sort of calm and a little loopy. Definitely also drops his filter, and while he isn’t necessarily mean, he just can’t keep his mouth shut, so sometimes he says things that are sort of weird or funny and make everyone around him go “you’re drunk, Nagisa. go have some coffee.”

#reigisa #free! hc #ask

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laequiem · 4 years ago

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She kills my self control - Chapter 9

/ Includes dialogue from The Cruel Prince Ch. 25

I want to see more of this scheming side of her, and the fear that I might not live to do so was growing in me.

cw: unhealthy coping mechanisms (alcohol, sex); physical abuse; nsfw

this chapter also includes some depressive thoughts, so thread carefully if that is something sensitive for you. Take care! 🖤

read on ao3 • previous chapter • next chapter • all chapters

Chapter 9. Tomorrow's not what it used to be

Seeing Jude with the other spies from Dain’s little circle had been strange, like seeing a whole different side of her. She was not just the human girl haunting my dreams and sparring with me in my waking hours. I want to see more of this scheming side of her, and the fear that I might not live to do so was growing in me.

One day and one night. What will happen afterwards? If Jude does not come back, they kill me. If she comes back with Madoc, they kill me. If Jude comes back alone, she might just decide to kill me too.

I don’t want to die. Not because my life is great - so far, it has been terrible. A life filled with abuse and neglect that I drown with extravagance. There was a time when I would not let myself think of my immortality. I remember entertaining the idea of ceasing . Immortality seemed long and tiresome, and I was unable to imagine life getting any better. In the last few months, however, my perspective shifted. I still craved attention, I doubt this would ever change, but I started doing things without expecting recognition. Standing up when my friends went too far, freeing mortal servants and putting food aside for some of them. I am not trying to make up for my cruelty. Simply, doing these things my brothers would disapprove of feels cathartic.

Nowadays, whenever I think of dying, I think of how useless all of this would have been. I have survived plenty, it would be a shame for it to end here. I want to do more. I want. I surprised even myself when I begged Jude and her trio of spies not to kill me, when I promised them gold and position in court... things I could not actually give them.

Too young, too weak, too mean.

It hurts more than it ought to. The words echo in my head as I sit alone, tied to a chair in Dain’s office. I am getting too sober for this.

“Hey,” I say, but get no answer. I try louder, “Hey!”

“Shut it, princeling,” the female replies from the other room, “We don’t want to have to kill you until tomorrow.”

“I want a drink,” I reply, ignoring the threat.

“We’re not paid enough to share with royalty.”

“Will we even get paid now that the boss is dead?” one of the males wonders.

“I know where to get the good stuff,” I say cockily, “But I’ll only tell you if you let me drink with you.”

A shape comes out from the shadows of the room I’m in, startling me. If I was not tied up, I probably would have fallen off of my chair. I didn’t know he was here, but I guess I should not have expected anything else from Dain’s prized assassin. The half-fae only nodded.

“So, you’ll get me wine?” I ask him.

He nods again. I give him directions to the wine cellar, the same I passed out in mere hours ago. I don’t bother telling him to take my keys, knowing he can easily just pick the lock.

When he leaves, the other two spies enter my room. The dark-skinned girl came behind me and tugged on the rope restraining my wrists and let out an appreciative whistle.

“She’s not messing around, is she?” she muses, “So, what will you offer us if we untie your hands?”

I raise an eyebrow. They really do not want to make this easy for me. “I can tell you where my sisters keep their jewels.”

“Do tell.”

I tell her. Like the assassin, the green-skinned spy leaves to get the treasure. I am left with the girl. She drags my chair to the main room with her, and we wait for the other two to come back.

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

The green-skinned fae comes back first, carrying a chest full of jewels. He’s beaming. I would not be surprised if he filled a tub with the jewels and swam in it.

“Well, well, he did not lie,” the girl who introduced herself as the Bomb says.

She takes out a blade and cuts the ties restraining my wrists.

“Why would I lie? You might be able to convince Jude not to kill me.”

“She did not seem pleased with the idea of killing you,” the blonde assassin says as he comes out of the shadows, hands full of as many bottles of very expensive wine as he could carry. He puts them on the table and uncorks four bottles.

“We have a… complicated relationship,” I say, letting them interpret this however they want, “I wouldn’t put it past her.”

The Bomb raises a brow while the green-skinned one snorts.

"Well," she says as she holds out a bottle for me, "to complicated relationships."

She clinks her bottle against mine and takes a swig.

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

I have been playing cards with the Roach, the Ghost and the Bomb for hours. They are actually quite fun to be around. They took turns to go grab more bottles from the cellar whenever we started to run low.

I am contemplating the bad hand I was dealt when I hear the door open.

“Jude!” the Bomb exclaims, “Sit down! We’ll deal you in.”

She came back alone. No Balekin, no Madoc. I grin at her, but she does not look pleased.

“What are you doing? He’s supposed to be tied up! He’s our prisoner.”

“Worry not. Where’s he going to go?” asks the Roach, “You really think he can get past all three of us?”

“I don’t mind being one-handed,” I drawl, pausing to take a swig of my bottle, “But if you’re going to restrain both of my hands, then you’ll have to pour the wine directly into my mouth.”

The Bomb tells her about the jewels and where we got the bottles from, but I barely register, all my attention examining Jude. She is seething, I can see it by the lines in her face, the way her brows twitch slightly.

“Everything is spiraling into chaos anyway, might as well have some fun. Don’t you think, Jude?” I tease, loving the way her name feels on my tongue.

I know I should be trying to calm her down, but I’m so good at riling her up.

“What did he offer you?” she asks, completely ignoring my teasing.

Play with me, Jude, I think.

The Ghost smiles, “Mostly gold, but also power. Position.”

“A lot of things he hasn’t got,” the Bomb retorts.

I pretend to be offended, clutching at my chest, “I thought we were friends.”

Jude rolls her eyes and put her hand on my chair. “I’m going to take him to the back.”

Dread climbs up my spine and I have never been more glad that my tail is tucked away, hiding the nervous undulations I cannot control.

“And do what?” The Roach asks.

“He’s my prisoner,” Jude sneers and I smile at the possessiveness. Then she kneels to cut my legs free and my smile widens.

“Can’t we stay out here? There’s wine out here,” I whine as I try to grab a bottle. She swats my hand away.

The Roach laughs, “Something bothering you, princeling? You and Jude don’t get along after all?”

Did he really have to say that in front of her? Urgh. Nevertheless, Jude does not seem to catch on, and she leads me back to her interrogation room.

#tfota #the folk of the air #cardan greenbriar #cardan #jude duarte #jurdan #judecardan #the cruel prince #fanfic #smut #angst

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iwantitiwriteit · 5 years ago

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Slow Burn: Act I - Part 1

The Meet Cute - Part 1

Pairing: Chris Evans x Famous!Reader

Summary: You meet Chris Evans at a rooftop, industry party in New York, but will your awkwardness ruin the night?

Warnings: Profanity, Sexual connotations, but overall fluff

Notes: Please check out the moodboard + music specially curated to go with this part!

Expensive, rooftop kickback. Ice-cold beer in hand. Film industry tastemakers and Top 40 hits to soundtrack it all. It should be an ideal way to end one of the last few days of summer. And yet, Chris couldn’t help but feel out of sorts. He is a, rather THE, fun-loving party guy. But tonight, he just wasn’t feeling it. He was in a funk, and didn’t know the reason for it.

Could it be the fact he turned another year older a little over a month ago? No, I’m grateful for the blessing of aging.

Could it be that he didn’t care to be around the people in this party? That’s not it. Yeah it’s a bunch of industry schmucks, but Mackie and Scott are here; those are my boys! We always have a great time.

It could very well be a case of “the breakup blues”, as Scott puts it. Hardly, we didn’t even exchange ‘I love you’s’. It’s hardly a breakup if it wasn’t even love… right?

Chris shrugged to himself as he tuned back into the conversation around him. But as he got himself up to speed, he wished he hadn’t.

“So I have this friend I think you should meet, Chris. real cool girl. I’m not saying she’s the “perfect match” or that you should even go on a date, but you never know… y’all should just meet,” Anthony says in as neutral a tone he can muster. Aw shit, here we go again.

When Chris doesn’t give him a reaction, Scott too, tries to maintain some neutrality when asking, “Oh, really?? Tell us about her, why don’t you?” Jeez, these two.

“Well, she’s hella artsy, a creative type, if you will.”

Chris decides to patronize them, asking, “Yeah? What’s she do?”

“She’s a… uh… musician!” Scott answers, clearly excited by his brother’s minute show of interest, but realizes he’s shown their hand.

Chris raises an eyebrow to his younger brother. “So you know her too?”

“Yeah… I mean I don’t know her super well, but I met her recently… through Mackie.” Not a complete lie.

That’s… actually different. They’re always trying to set me up entrepreneurs who want me to throw money at their lip gloss business after the second date. Or worse, influencers, who are overly concerned with their “brand” and make me wait to eat while she takes pictures of the food so her “feed can also be fed”. Sheesh. But a musician, a fellow artist, could be different… “That’s cool, what kind of music?”

“It’s like alternative pop,” Scott answers, hoping to keep his brother’s attention in the subject.

“And that is …”

“…like, mostly pop, but it’s got a little bit of everything.”

“Right… what ever happened to ‘keeping shit simple’?” Chris states more than asks, as he takes a swig of his beer.

“You sound like an old man,” Scott quips, to which Chris playfully flips him off.

“ANYWAYS,” Anthony attempts to get the conversation back on track, “she’s also very intelligent, funny, youthful…”

“Youthful, huh? How old is she?”

“She’s… ya’know… young at heart… and on paper…”

“Bro, how old is she??”

“Twenty-- ”

“Let me stop you right there, ‘cos wow! I see how it is!” Outwardly, Chris feigns offense, but inwardly he’s just planning an escape from this conversation.

“You see me: a damn-near middle-age man; no wife, no kids, no GIRLFRIEND, and think I’m looking to “just meet” someone 10+ years younger than me? You think I’m looking to start my mid-life crisis or something? Yeah, thanks, but no thanks. I’m out this bitch!” Chris over-dramatically scoffs, throws his hands up and rolls his eyes. As he wanders inside away from them, he laughs to himself at their antics.

“C’mon man! We’re just looking out for you!” Anthony shouts after him.

And it’s true: He knows they mean well, but the constant hovering over and hand holding of his love life is getting to be… suffocating. Chris wants to meet someone without pressure or pretense. He wants someone real, someTHING real. But more than anything right now, he wants to be left alone about it. Huh, guess I found the reason for my funk.

——————————————————————————

Having just come from an incredible writing session, you’d somewhat forgotten you’d been invited to “schmooze” some Hollywood types. You arrive to the party well into the evening, around 10:30 pm or so. Enough time to ‘schmooze’ and get the hell out. God, I HATE ass kissing… If it were up to you, you wouldn’t be here tonight, but Anthony and Scott were persistent on getting you out.

You hadn’t bothered changing your outfit cos it was comfortable + cute + completely party ready, in your humble opinion, but the disapproving looks from a couple of bougie Bettys by the in-door bar didn’t go unnoticed. I really couldn’t care less. I just collaborated with one of my most faviorite writers EVER for Mackie’s movie!

Your name sounds off in the near distance. It’s a couple of your co-stars, Ansel and Jaden. You’d met them previously at a Vanity Fair party about a year ago. They’d each been publicly supportive of your work and you’d been *platonically* in each of their DMs, but they’re both no more than acquaintances.

Chatting to them for a bit, there’s introductions to the preexisting group, some of whom seem a little star struck, or maybe taken aback by your attire? It’s getting harder for me to read people nowadays.

You ask them where Scott and Mackie are, seeing as the former invited you here and the latter is a good friend of yours. Ansel points you in a general direction, and you thank him before you head that way.

The indoor dining and lounge area open up to a large, open-air, rooftop patio. It’s packed with film industry folk; A-list to up-and-coming, like yourself. You’re not exactly sure what the celebration is, just that Scott & Mackie insisted that you show your face, rub eblows, but most importantly, let loose for once; seeing as you are making your break into acting this year. A much needed change of pace from your usual work.

‘Japan’ by Famous Dex is playing as you sneak up behind an unexpecting Scott. Taking him by the hips from behind, you sway to the beat with your pelvis to his backside. To your amusement, he’s visibly startled and turns around, his face changing from “WTF?!” to “OMG!!” when he sees you. You don’t stop dancing, but instead get a little more raunchy as Scott joins in with you. You share a laugh, hug and air kiss.

“Let me stop. I’m not using all my moves on you tonight!”

“That’s too bad, but maybe we can find someone for you to use them on,” he replies with a wink. You playfully roll your eyes and swat at his arm. Yeah, highly doubt it. Not what I’m here for, anyways.

"How ya doing Kid? How was the writing sesh?” Mackie asked while being a little distracted with texting. You assumed it was for work because usually Anthony was a very present individual. Not only was he in the movie, but he was a producer, and you figured he hadn’t turned that part of himself off even though he was at a party.

You started to gush about the session, the collaboration, how that one part “just came together” when… oh my fucking gawd.

“Hey Kid, I want you to meet my good friend—“

“He was my brother before he was your friend!”

“Wow, really you guys?”

Mackie finishes introducing you to Chris Evans. Chris motherfucking Evans. You wonder if he’d always been standing there or if he just walked over, because you didn’t notice him before. You shake hands, and get a little shy now, hoping it wasn’t noticeable. Chris plasters on a polite, but fake smile. Shit. He can see the fangirl in my eyes!! Get a grip sis!

“So... how do you know these two?” Chris motions left then right, from Scott to Anthony.

“Uh... um... movie.” You nod as if you’re trying to convince not only Chris, but yourself, that you just gave an adequate answer.

“What she means is that she’s a part of the movie Mackie and I are doing.”

“Oh, alright cool, cool. What do you do?”

“Well, I’m a sing--”

“SINGle actress! She’s very single, and very much an actress,” Anthony looks at you with widened eyes as he nods his head slowly, like you bumped your head and forgot what you do. What’s up with him?

“Um, yeah, I have a supporting role, which is more than enough for my intro to the silver screen.”

“Your first movie? Congrats! You’re in good hands with these guys on set with you. Just remember--”

“Stay away from bananas?” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them. Wow. No one makes a move in the awkward air you set. You just made a reference to his somewhat embarrassing-- yet very comical-- film debut. You dummy!

“I’m so sor—”

“No. No, no don’t. It’s, uh... fine,” he says, half laughing. You all return to awkward silence, with Chris looking off into the distance, pretending to wave at someone so he can plan an escape for the second time tonight. You’re too busy studying the ground and mentally kicking yourself for your stupidity to notice Scott and Anthony, panicked looks on their faces and gesturing to the other to “do something” to save this train wreck of a conversation. Anthony decides to break the silence.

“Yo Kid, Lemme see your hand.”

“My hand? Why?”

“Just let me see it!”

Your hand is guided to Chris’ clothed, taut pec by Anthony.

“Feel that? Good stuff, right? Soft to the touch, yet strong and dependable. But most importantly, makes ya feel real good in bed.” No he didn’t just say that!!

Chris mouths a ‘wow’ with raised brows, and you cautiously take back your hand, slightly bewildered *but not really* by Anthony’s boldness. Anthony still holds on to your hand lightly.

“What man? It’s Egyptian cotton! I don’t mean to embarrass ya!”

“Somehow, I think you do,” Chris chuckles while he takes a swig of his beer, eyeing you tentatively. You can’t bring yourself to make eye contact with him, and just fix your eyes straight ahead. I’m literally staring at a wall... of muscle.

“Look, let me see your hand.”

“Hey, hey! He ain’t stroking my chest; it is NOT that kind of party… gotta at least take me to dinner first.” You whisper the last part, but Chris still catches it and laughs at your quip. The tension in your shoulders eases up some, but only a little, not trusting yourself to get too comfortable.

“Just trust me!” Anthony whines at you.

“Last time I “just trusted you” Mackie, I ended up fleeing a pack of angry ducks… I still have the scar!”

“Wait, wha—“

Mackie brought yours and Chris’ hands together for his large hand to hold your smaller one, and there was… electricity?

“Isn’t that the softest hand you ever felt? What do you use?”

“Uh… Shea butter.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it! Oh won’t you look at that. Her ring finger is naked, hm… and look at how good she looks in white!” Nope, just more awkwardness.

You share an embarrassed smile and glance away from each other while each of your hands gently fall back to your sides.

“Leave it to Mackie to be subtle…” Scott intervenes, “Well! Now that all the cool kids are here, why don’t you, Chris, take our lovely friend here over to the bar to get a drink so we can get this party started!”

——————————————————————————

Silence settles over you and Chris at the busy bar as you wait for the bartender to service you. It’s not necessarily awkward, but definitely not comfortable. You take this moment to breathe in the New York air to soothe your nerves, while also starkly avoiding eye contact with the handsome devil to your left. But after a while, you decide to take the lead with small talk.

“Hey... I am SUPER sorry about my ‘banana’ joke earlier. I didn’t mean to--”

“Stop. It’s fine, really. Don’t beat yourself up about it.” You exhale a little at his words, relieved you didn't offend him. “I’m the one who should say ‘sorry’... I normally laugh at jokes about myself.”

“Then why didn’t you? You left me hanging out there!” He chuckles a bit as he sips his beer. Now it’s his turn to exhale.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“Ok, that’s, uh… cool.” Chris side glances at you, finding your nervous energy amusing... and endearing. He decides to mess with you a little.

“So, how long have you been acting?”

“Oh, uh... not that long. I’ve done a few things here and there, but this is my first serious role.”

“Ok. And how long have you been single?” Realizing how that might’ve sounded suggestive, he attempts to backtrack. “I didn’t mean like-- just Mackie made mention-- I wasn’t like-- ‘s just trying to mess with you a little...” Well THAT backfired.

You couldn’t help but giggle at seeing him flustered. “I guess it’s my turn to say, ‘It’s fine’?” to this, Chris is visably relieved. “Yeah, I would also apologize for Mackie’s behavior, but you’ve known him longer than I have, so I’ll let you claim him when he acts like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like a meddling… muffdiver…?” you couldn’t think of anything good, but Chris laughs heartily at this. You can’t help but admire his strong, manly features as they melt into something reminiscent of a child. Head thrown back, clutching his chest, boisterous laughter booming from him. You can’t help but join him in laughing at your lame joke.

“So does this mean I owe you an apology?” He leans on the bar, looking every bit the yacht daddy and gives you a sly smirk. Is he… flirting?

“I guess so. I’m waiting…” you say, tapping your imaginary watch and a sly smirk of your own. Am I flirting??

“Well, tough luck… ‘Kid’. You’ll be waiting forever. I’m not apologizing for shit Mackie does cos he’s my amazing friend who I’ll always ‘claim’ and love unconditionally… even if he acts like a ‘meddling muffdiver’.”

“First of all: aww! That was very bromantic of you.” Chris chuckles at your unique term, making a mental note to use it sometime. It’s cute. Like her smile…

“And Secondly?”

“Secondly… I’ve only begrudgingly given Mackie permission to call me ‘Kid’.”

“Why’s that?”

“I guess… Cos he’s like an uncle to me, and you gotta let him have some things,” you laugh to yourself thinking of your relationship with Anthony.

“But don’t let the nickname fool ya!” You continued, “I’m a grown ass woman, at a grown ass party, ready to have some fun, and shake my grown ass… “

“Ass?” You both pause for a moment before bursting into laughter. It’s great to laugh with someone like this…

“I’ll admit: I didn’t think about where that line of ranting would land.” You both take a brief moment to take each other in. Looking at him while he’s looking at you starts to make your face feel hot, so you break the silence.

“So… what are we celebrating tonight? I’m kinda new to this scene,”

“You know what, I don’t even know what. I was invited by a few different people, each with their own reasons for coming. So, anything really. ”

You’re finally served your drinks and make the short walk back over to Anthony and Scott. When you reached them you raised your glass to signal you were making a toast.

“Well, here’s to good health, good company, endless creativity, and, and…”

“Grown-ass asses!” Chris finishes for you.

“Amen! Salud!” You all clinked drinks, but Mackie and Scott were confused by the last bit.

“You had to be there,” Chris answered with a wink in your direction when they inquired. You blushed slightly, never more thankful for your melanin to cover it up.

Mackie and Scott looked between you and Chris, confusion etched on their faces, as you’d only been alone for all of 5 minutes. They resolved into knowing, satisfied looks between each other.

This goes unnoticed by you and Chris. The pair of you start talking about the movie that you’re starting next month with his brother and friend.

This turns into talking about how you met them, more laughter, some refilled drinks, more conversation, then light touches to arms and hands. The touches were unintentional, but welcomed by both of you, leading to lots of coy smiles and lingering looks. Tonight might not be so bad after all…

Part 2

#chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans one shot #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x woc #chris evans x you #Slow Burn Series

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x0401x · 5 years ago

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Jeweler Richard Fanbook: Mr. Jeffrey’s Elegant Life Counseling

Thank you for so many consultations. It was nearly impossible to contact Mr. Jeffrey as he is so busy, but we were able to deliver everyone’s consultations to him and received several replies, thus they have been published. May your worries be resolved!

Sleep hours are said to account for 1/3 of life. Please tell us about your particularities for aromas, beddings and such, as well as which ones we should choose in order to spend this 1/3 of our lives elegantly. (Bijou-san)

Bijou-san, greetings! My particularities about elegant beddings, huh. I fly around a lot due to work, so I often live in hotels. That’s exactly why I am a little particular about aromas. But it’s about their purposes rather than their smell: 1. For before work 2. For after work 3. For when I’m on off days I like being able to change my gears myself. Eh? You heard from an acquaintance of mine that I only have numbers 1 and 2? No way; I also have number 3, I just don’t have any time to use it at all. Well, adieu!

I have been keeping a loach for three years now, but have not named it yet. I think it is about time I do so, but what would be a good name? (Tsuyu-san)

Tsuyu-san and Nameless Loach-san, hello! I see, so you’ve had a loach for three years. Ah-ha-ha-ha! I think any name will do! Eh? What is it, Ricky? “Since we’re at it, just name it Jeffrey”? No way, I might get eaten in Yanagawa! Please choose anything but Jeffrey! I’m counting on you!

(T/N: Yanagawa is a city in Kyushu, known for its traditional loach stew.)

I am the type who fears failing and ends up staying in the same place, so what can I do to be as active as you, Jeffrey-san? (Sorasaki-san)

Sorasaki-san, hello! You seem to have a very high opinion of me, so thank you very much. But I am not at all an active person. I simply work like a Japanese dancing mouse because of my job, and I think all I do is sleep on my house’s sofa if I don’t have anything to do. Maybe you should change your mindset. How about taking the direction not of “wanting to be active”, but of wanting to look for something that you wish to do because you haven’t found it yet? Eh? You have things you want to do? That’s just perfect. All that’s left is for you to execute this desire, and then it will be the birth of a lovely and active Sorasaki-san. If you like that, do try it out. Well, adieu!

This is my first year as a respectable member of society. I earned myself the occupation I wanted, but all I do is mess up and I still cannot think of it as enjoyable. I am blessed with good seniors, so my feeling of guilt is strong in that regard. What can I do to be able to think of my job as fun? (Yoppi-san)

Yoppi-san, hello! Okay, this is sudden, but Jeffrey-onii-san has questions for the working people who are reading this. Is your work enjoyable? Are you positively doing your best? Is there nothing at all that you just can’t see as fun? Hm, feels like I can hear the responses going, “as if” beyond the walls of this dimension. I think one year after you start working is still a period where there are many things you’re not yet used to, and I myself also did stuff that had me feeling sorry at the time. Nowadays, I find myself recalling these feelings as unripe and nostalgic, but there’s just no helping any of it in your first shot.

That’s okay; you will grow used to it soon enough. Might not be BCG, but it’s a road that everyone goes down. If it’s still hard, then go hang out with a friend around the same age as you who you get along with and wash away your irritation! I think trying to force yourself to have fun is a pain, so for now, how about you try to make enduring reality into your main task? Wow, I feel like this has turned out as a very decent reply that isn’t like me at all! May you grow into a wonderful professional. Adieu!

I am a college student, but my image of working is too negative and I am very distressed about finding a job. How can I have hope and work while my future is uncertain? (Misaki-san)

Misaki-san, hello! In this day and age, having hope towards working is very hard, isn’t it? Even I don’t have that much of it. But I spend my days cheerfully! Why? Because I’m rich? That’s not it. Ack, that hurts, Ricky; I keep telling you to stop hitting me with boxing moves!

It’s because I have baseless confidence. Baseless confidence is the best. Because there’s no basis to it. Ya~y!

What you should do to have baseless confidence? Try challenging yourself to do something – anything – that you’ve never done before. If you do this, many things will happen at once. They mostly won’t go well. You will get yelled at and praised, not knowing what is what. Things will either somehow work out or not at all while you have a laugh at it, and as you find yourself in a situation that feels like being jerked around by a storm, everything will be over before you realize it.

You might get into a state of collapse, but at that moment, you’ll have become a different person from before you challenged yourself. Just a little bit. But it’s a big change. If you hadn’t thought of challenging yourself, you wouldn’t have had that experience. But because you decided to do it and tried it out, you’ll have polished yourself when going through said experience. Don’t you think that’s amazing?

To work is to live. I think a challenge is the fastest way to living with confidence. If you have anything you like or are interested in, it might be good to try starting from there as the outset. Adieu!

There are too many things I want, so I never manage to save any money! Jeffrey-san, do you also have these kinds of experiences…? (Karina-san)

Oops, there’s a different fee for money-related consultations, but this doesn’t seem to be that kind of talk. When you think about what I would say, there’s no way that the youngest son of English aristocrats would have had this kind of experience—except I have. Not just me but also my brother and cousin were under a system of restrict pocket money back in our student years, so although they were enough for food expenses, buying all the things we wanted was a dream upon another dream. I think we improved our way of setting our priorities straight thanks to that. Everything is about experience. Adieu!

I do not hate work – I am actually the type that likes it – but Jeffrey-sama, what do you do in those times when you suddenly feel like taking a break from work or when you only want to do fun things? (Tofu-san)

Tofu-san, hello! Hm-hm, I get you. No matter how fun and lively your job is, it’s depressing when you think about having to be there and do work every day, isn’t it? Vacations are far-off, and you can’t go on vacation in the first place or even have the will to—wait, that’s me.

What I recommend to you, Tofu-san, is going on a weekday vacation. I’m not at all telling you to take absence from your company, but to go on a vacation after you leave work. Put on your favorite clothes and go hang out at a club, watch as many streamed videos as you want while eating chips and drinking ale, get engrossed in reading – follow your many desires and do only the things you like! Until the time to go to work on the next day, that is! We’re talking an all-nighter here; an all-nighter.

Of course, your skin will get dry, your eyes will be bleary and your work efficiency will see a sharp drop, so you can’t do it all the time, but this little vacation works surprisingly well for your heart’s health. Try it when you feel like taking a nice break. My personal recommendation is eating as much chocolate and churros as you can overnight. I remember very well that a prodigious acquaintance of mine survived a test week thanks to this. Well, adieu!

Ricky, you didn’t get angry this time, huh? Eh, did you forget to? Can’t remember anything anymore except the taste of Nakata-kun’s pudding? Ah, ouch, ouch, ouch! Sorry; I said sorry! Stirred a hornet’s nest, didn’t I?

In order to become a member of society, I will be living by myself in Tokyo starting from April next year! Jeffrey-san, I would like you to tell me your methods for stress relief and what rewards you give yourself when you do your best! (Ryon-san)

Ryon-san, hello! Congratulations on this big step to becoming a new member of society. “Member of society” is a pretty Japanese-like concept. For your first time living alone, the things that you deem as fun and your troubles will probably change from what they used to be until now, so I believe that thinking while having your eyes set on your desires is the most important. By the way, I like karaoke. Because you can sing loudly in them! Ricky was the one who taught me Shouwa pop music—eh? This topic isn’t allowed? Same for the talk about those popular songs that we’d sing when we were studying Japanese? Ah, I’m sorry. Due to brotherly circumstances, this topic has to stop here. That’s right; anything except sweets is fine as a reward. I know about the touching hard work of a certain someone, after all. Well, adieu… Wait a minute; wait! No boxing!

I am bad at speaking out my opinion in front of others, and I get so nervous that my voice trembles. How can I stop being anxious? Also, Jeffrey-san, in what kind of situation do you get nervous? Please tell me! (Totororo-san)

Totororo-san, hello. Anxiety is a problem, isn’t it? Your voice shakes, your hands shake, and you just feel like taking a break. I was also like that back when I had just become a student, but strangely enough, I was able to deal just fine with nervousness after learning a secret chant. It’s a chant passed down for generations in the Claremont family, which was taught to me by Henry and taught to Henry by our father, Godfrey. What kind of chant is it, you ask? Aah, I’m sorry, but this is off-limits for outsiders. I cannot tell you. But, that’s right, I shall tell you just the atmosphere and the mindset of the chant as an exception: 1. Acknowledge that you are nervous and be thankful for it 2. Because that’s the same as the many big ordeals that our ancestors have gone through until now 3. As you are at the very end of the line, you must be grateful for the grandiose fate of being granted an ordeal as well 4. Express respect for your own courage Okay, it’s more or less this mindset. Whenever I was saying [beep] before an important presentation, well, it was that chant. In my opinion, Totororo-san, it’s okay for you to also create your own version of the chant and use it. According to Henry, this chant has been passed down for generations in the Claremont household, so it clearly gets stronger the more you use it. Was this helpful? Please do your best! Be thankful for your nervousness and have respect for your courage. Well, adieu!

Hey, Henry, that time when I cried before I started going to school because I had to do a speech in front of everyone, I wonder just how you felt.

Hello, Jeffrey-san, who looks lovely in glasses. I do my best every day, all the while being healed by your kindness! My dark history is that I was once super fat… and even now, I cannot bring myself to look directly at my photos from that time. Jeffrey-san, you apparently listened to too much rock in the past and made your father cry because you would run around in punk fashion. It seems your cousin sometimes blackmails you with pictures of it, so Jeffrey-san, how do you face your dark history? If there is any way to deal with dark history from the far past, by all means, I would like you to tell me. (Sechiko-san)

Sechiko-san, hello! From the way that you came in casually gouging your advisor’s wounds, I can see that you are the angelic little devil type of character, just like me. I can’t hate you, damn—! About how to face and deal with your dark history, hmm, this doesn’t restrict the possibility that “the present will be dark history when I look back at it in the future” into an irrefutable condition, right? Human beings change from moment to moment, so if you think that your past and current selves have the exact same personality and nature, you’re bound to get burned. Isn’t it just fine if you act as if you were watching over one of your relative’s children, like, “You used to be like this back then, huh”? So, Ricky, how about you get rid of those photos already?! Hey, hey, hey? Can’t you?

Jeffrey-san, hello. My house is bustling with books. I have become familiar with electronics too, but in the end, I like paper books, and so I wind up collecting my favorite ones in paperback format as well. My childhood dream was to build a library inside my house and put a sofa in it so that I could read books there, but when I think about my housing circumstances, it seems unlikely to come true. Jeffrey-san, how do you keep control of your books? Also, what kind of books do you like? (Oh-gi-san)

Oh-gi-san, hello! Aah, someone who loves paper books, huh? You’re one of Henry’s. I’m on the tech side. The reason is that I’m always moving around, so the short and unappealing option of having as little baggage as possible is better for me. But if I could take time for it, I’d like to read a leather hardcover book in front of the fireplace while having some cognac. I have only been reading newspapers, magazines, reports and essays for the last ten or so years now, so if I had time, I guess I’d try challenging myself to read a thick full-length novel for once. I’m thinking about asking my cousin for recommendations on Japanese literature. Makes me nostalgic; I don’t remember anymore when it was, but I just recalled that I really did think about asking him this before. Books are nice, aren’t they? They’re always nostalgic in some way. Well, adieu!

Jeffrey-san, hello! This is sudden, but I am very indecisive. When I am shopping, I worry over it, like, “Which one is better? Should I be buying this now?”… and in the end, I buy nothing. What can I do to improve my resolution? (YuiKa-san)

You’re asking me!? Just kidding. YuiKa-san, hello. You asked me advice because you want to change your indecisive self, right? I think it’s probably because you already understand that “not having resolution is a type of resolution in itself”. Time passes even while you can’t decide, and things get decided on their own! Just like when I had to choose whether or not to interfere in my cousin’s wedding. I’m sorry; the topic got heavy. I believe, YuiKa-san, that you think you’re the one who has to decide what the range of your choices is at least, even if you know that you won’t get a perfect result out of it. That is commendable. I respect you.

I think the way to improve your resolution is to have many regrets. The more you experience things that will make you think, “I don’t want this to happen ever again”, the more you will be filled with the self-realization that it was better to have made a decision rather than not, so you will become able to make straightforward choices. Bluntly put, if you live your life with your eyes open, your resolution will definitely improve. You’ll be fine. Did that answer the question? It’s an improper advice, so it’s okay if you say it didn’t. Just kidding. Adieu!

What should I do in order to make friends with someone who is apart from me in age and into all sorts of genres? (Ninoka-san)

Ninoka-san, hello. You want a friend with an age gap who’s into many genres, right? What kind of friend would that be? Someone who seems to be having fun with themselves? Someone who has a field of expertise where they won’t lose to anyone? If you have an idealized image that has you going, “This is it!”, then you should try to be like that first! Posting about it on social media while being careful of literacy is also good. If you do that, my, what a mystery – people who want to be friends with you and salesmen will come your way in swarms! If what you want isn’t a “friend” but “personal connections”, this should undoubtedly work. If you really want a friend, then I don’t recommend choosing them like they’re a support item. Because they’ll turn into someone that you can’t see as anything other than a support item, like me. Have a fun life! Well, adieu.

#housekishou richard shi no nazo kantei #the case files of jeweler richard #jeweler richard #richard ranashinha de vulpian #jeffrey claremont #richard #my translations #fanbook

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