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stillbandofbrothersthirsty · 3 years

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As Far As Friends Go

Chapter 12 (Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11)

Nixon - May 31 - June 6, 1944 “The tables are secure?”  

“Yes.” “And do you have everything you need for your presentation to the officers and non-coms?” “Yes.”

  “What about the pointer?" 

Nixon whirled around to face Emily, “Shouldn’t I be asking you these questions?” “Well, everything should be packed up. I just want to make sure. I won’t be coming until after you, so I want to make sure you have everything you need before I get there,” Emily explained. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. I’m not presenting until after you get there.” It was early morning and the caffeine from Nixon’s first cup of coffee was still making its way into his bloodstream. Headquarters was consumed with movement; staff members darted in and out of the building carrying boxes full of maps and tools, carrying footlockers, crates of supplies which they loaded onto the backs of trucks. Emily held a clipboard upon which she had pinned a list of everything their department was responsible for. They were on brink of the allied invasion into Normandy. Once they got to Upottery Airfield, Nixon would be responsible for briefing the officers and the troops on the invasion plan. Every day up until the day of days he would be working to make sure every single paratrooper knew every single detail of the plan of attack. The atmosphere was buzzing with energy when Nixon climbed into his jeep; whether it was nervous or excited energy he wasn’t sure. The airfield was alive with action when Nixon arrived; men were putting up tents, unloading arms, and other supplies. “Nix,” Dick Winters walked over towards Nixon, “glad you could join us.” “Hard to believe it’s really happening, huh?” Nixon replied. “Any idea of where we’re going?”  “Oh so now you want me to tell you?” Nixon teased his friend who had shown barely any interest in his divulgement of information before. Winters shrugged and his mouth turned up slightly, “I think I have a bit of an idea.” “Well good, keep guessing. I’m not going to be responsible for the leak on this one - too risky.” “What happened to my fearless friend?”  “It’s not fear, it’s embarrassment I want to avoid.” Nixon said wryly, “what kind of intelligence officer would I be if I let the secret of the allied invasion slip?”  Winters narrowed his eyes at him as if trying to read his thoughts. “You’ll find out soon enough,” Nixon said and clapped Winters on the shoulder. Nixon had enough time to get settled in and to oversee the organization of the intelligence tent before Emily arrived with the remainder of the intelligence staff. In only a few hours, Emily and Nixon had to brief the regimental officers with the geographical details of the plan of action and what resources should be expected. The execution order of Operation Overlord had come from General Eisenhower himself so of course, Colonel Sink knew what his troops' objective was in the coming days. But the top-secret campaign into Normandy was a battle that intelligence staff across the allied nations had been waging for months. Since Dunkirk, codebreakers, scientists, and engineers had been preparing to return to the continent. Nixon and Emily had been part of that effort and now it was time to fill in their superiors on every tidbit of information that would help them achieve victory. “Alright gentlemen, let’s get started.” Colonel Sink sat down at the head of the table that stretched through a large tent, one of the first to be put up at Upottery. Emily passed around briefing memos and situation maps. “In theory, the only people in the regiment who know the who, what, and where about this invasion are in this room.” Sink scanned the limited faces of the most senior officers, “it is vital that we keep information on a need-to-know basis. That being said, it's about time we briefed our troops so that they are prepared when the day is decided, which will be any day now. Cap’n Nixon, and his lovely assistant here, are to fill us in on exactly what we need to know so that you all can inform your subordinates on the plan of action.” “Miss Rooney will you be able to take notes?” Lt. Colonel Strayer asked from Sink’s left. “Oh, uh I-,” “Miss Rooney was prepared to present actually,” Nixon jumped in, “she’s a professional cartographer and is an expert on the region.” “Oh,” Strayer looked between Nixon, Emily, and the other officers in the room, “but you know this stuff too right Nixon?” “I do, sir.”

 “Then why don’t you present the information so Miss Rooney can take notes?”  

“Sir, I-,” Nixon prepared to object. “Lewis, let’s not bicker like old fishwives. The notes are important. No offense, but I trust Miss Rooney’s handwriting more than yours.” Emily and Nixon exchanged a frustrated look of defeat. With pursed lips, Emily retrieved a pad of paper and took a seat in the corner behind Nixon. The enormity of what was about to be attempted settled across the tented room once Nixon finished the presentation. Colonel Sink cleared his throat, “okay men, I want every soldier in this regiment to know this area like the back of his hand. Let’s get the job done.” Sink stood up, prompting the other officers to rise, and walked out onto the airfield.

 “Nicely done,” Emily said to Nixon once the room was clear. She began collecting the maps and memos left behind. “Thank you for putting it all together.” “Happy to do my job.” There was a slight bitterness in Emily’s voice, and Nixon couldn’t blame her. “Hey, I’m sorry about,” Nixon gestured vaguely, “ya know, all that.” “Don’t worry about it,” Emily said resignedly, “story of my life.” “Yeah but you’re a professional, you’re smart and capable.” “Thank you Lew, but even you thought of me as a secretary when I first arrived. Remember?”

  Nixon winced at the memory. He didn’t know what to say. It was true, he had referred to her as a secretary despite her significant professional experience for her age. “Don’t worry about it,” Emily repeated, “I appreciate you trying to stick up for me.” She stacked the memos into a neat pile within a manila folder. “By the way, I’m headed south tonight.” “Already?” Nixon asked. Emily shrugged and tried to smile, “well, who knows when the day will actually be. Could be in five days, could be tomorrow. Don’t want to miss my ship.” “But you’re not going day of right?” “No,” Emily shook her head, “thankfully. I’ll go over a few days later with the nurses and other non-essentials.” “Non-essentials,” Nixon scoffed. “That’s me,” Emily winked at Nixon. “So I guess I’ll see you over there.” The space around them suddenly felt heavy. Her words felt insufficient. Best case scenario, they would see each other over there and the magnitude of that reality was not lost on either of them. Nixon searched for the right words. What was there to say when it was only a maybe goodbye? He didn’t even want to acknowledge the chance that he may never see this woman again.  “I’ll see ya,” Nixon settled on. Emily held his gaze and smiled softly; nothing more needed to be said. Then in a breath, she exited out the tent flap and out of sight. A moment after she was gone a thought popped into Nixon’s head. He bolted out of the tent flap after her, “Emily!” he shouted. She turned and Nixon felt his breath leave him. Something about her innocent expression drenched in the evening's sun was stupefying. Then her face twisted into disgruntled confusion, “what?” she demanded. That was his girl, Nixon thought. Nixon walked a few paces towards her. “I’ve got something for ya,” he tossed her a little box. “What’s this?” she opened the plain, narrow box and tipped the contents into her palm. Out slipped an ornate gold tube of, “lipstick!” she shrieked. “Yeah,” Nixon shrugged, “not that you need it. But I noticed you were running out.”  

“Bésame?” Emily read the label, “where on earth did you get this?” “I have my ways!” Nixon winked, “look at the shade.” “Victory red,” Emily smiled up at him. “Perfect isn’t it?” Nixon allowed himself to grin back at her, “perfect for you.” Emily threw her arms around his neck, “Thank you, Lew!” “Sure,” Nixon unwrapped her arms, “anyways, consider that my parting gift. Gotta have you looking good your first time in France.” The next couple of days were filled with adrenaline and anticipation as the men of the 506th prepared to be called into action. On June 4th, they thought the day had come but due to poor weather across the channel, the jump was delayed. Nixon could sense the tension among the men. Few feelings are worse than hyping yourself up for something that wasn’t to come. There was nothing to do but wait. Nixon took a sip from his flask and wandered outside for some fresh air. The moisture from the storm cooled the evening air. He sighed in relief; just a few steps outside felt like an escape from the nervous energy that permeated the musty tent. Nixon took another swig from his flask and leaned against one of the stacks of boxes. He was so glad to be away from everyone - he couldn’t bear the anxiety of the other men. It was difficult enough to stay focused and too easy to fall into a pit of fear. He had to stay optimistic. Winters must have shared in his restlessness because Nixon saw him emerge from between two tents. “I think it’s clearing up,” he said. Winters gazed up at the sky. “Think it’s clearing up?” Nixon asked walking over. “Nope,” Winters said, pulling on his gloves. Nixon shook his head. Winters was the eternal realist to Nixon’s ironic optimism. “I think it’s clearing up,” Nixon insisted. The two men began to walk down the airfield, the gray sky hanging above them. Nixon didn’t have the energy to discuss the inevitable. Winters didn’t seem to either but seemed contented to walk in silence, which Nixon was not. Determined to think of other things Nixon said, “Five o’clock in New York,” he paused, “four o’clock in Chicago.” “Happy hour huh?” Nixon chuckled, this was why Winters was his best friend. He met him wherever he was. With only a few words, they were on the same page; equally aware of the reality that faced them but understood that discussing it wouldn’t change anything at this point. So why waste the heartache? It was one of the longest nights of Nixon’s life. There seemed to be nothing to do and everything to do at the same time. How does one prepare for an experience they’ve never had before? Everything was organized, everything planned to the minute detail but who was to say what would actually happen when they touched ground in France? No one knew because no one had ever done it before.

 Finally, on the night of June 5th, the 506th Airborne was cleared for departure. They would be dropping down into Normandy in the early hours of June 6th, only hours before the armies would storm the beaches. Nixon loaded into his plane and sat beside Colonel Strayer. They each had a map in hand and were discussing strategy as the remainder of the regiment geared and loaded up. Nixon didn’t have time to be scared. He had to make sure that everything was ready and in position for the men when they arrived at the assembly zone. If he were being honest, he was grateful to have a distraction. It kept the fear at bay as they lifted off the airfield and flew into the setting sun.

#band of brothers #hbo band of brothers #lewis nixon #original character #emily rooney #lewis nixon x oc #as far as friends go #dick winters #dday #june 6

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seodami · 4 years

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Neon green | LYY

Genre: soulmate au, fluff, friends to lovers, some frustrated feelings,...

Warning: none (besides cursing like 2 times)

Word count: 4071 (oopsie hehe)

Pairing: Trainee!Liu Yangyang x reader

Note: I am so excited for participating in the ✨NCT secret Santa event✨ I want to thank the organizers @neoculturechristmas for preparing such a cool collaboration! It is such a nice idea and I am really excited to read all the other stories. I really tried making it a bit winter themed in the beginning but oh well I think i failed haha. But if you squint ITS THERE I SWEAR :)) So this one is for you @theleemark :) I really hope you like it! Merry Christmas ✨

“Yangyang stop it!” You laughed while running away from the boy, who currently was chasing you like a maniac through the park. His arms were loaded with dozens of big white snowballs just ready to be thrown at you.

Your feet felt like they were sinking even further into the deep snow layer on the ground with each step you took. It was impossible to avoid your best friend any longer. And before you could complain further, the ice cold snow ball hit you right on your already pink cheek.

You let out a loud scream, not being able to move. The prickling pain of the cold snow overwhelming your senses.

Yangyang however couldn’t stop laughing looking at your face. Running the last few meters to you to catch up, he tackled you down into a hug, which unfortunately ended with both of you laying in the deep snow. Your jeans were soaking wet at this point. An icy feeling shuttered down your spine.

“Yangyaanggg...god I hate you.” You fumed frustratedly, hitting your best friends chest. “Get off me! You are heavy...” your weak arms tried to lift the boy above you up but bitterly failed.

Yangyang giggled into your neck, standing up by himself while helping you up as well. “Hey I’m not heavy. More like heavenly, don’t you think?” He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly with his usual smile as he posed like a supermodel.

As hard as you tried to keep pouting and stay angry at him, you couldn’t stop the laugh from bubbling up behind your hands. A grin immediately made its way onto his face. “Isn’t snow so dope? Like you can literally do anything you want. It’s like a movie.” He babbled excitedly.

You couldn’t help but secretly admire his beauty once again. Lately you’ve been catching yourself a lot staring mindlessly at him when he was busy. Even when it was just him pouring boiling water into a ramen cup. Maybe it was all the mushy lovey dovey Christmas romance content on Netflix you’ve been simping over the last month or just Yangyang himself but you were certainly sure, he definitely got more attractive in your eyes.

Still it was something you would never ever in your dreams confess to him or talk about. Especially since there wasn’t really any sign that you two were connected as soulmates. He was just...well...just your best friend. And you had to live with that.

You still remember the way you two became friends. It was a very fond memory of yours and little do you know, also for Yangyang. You both were in 5th grade back then, being the little Chinese kid who showed off his tiny German skills and the clumsy half Caucasian girl with braces. It was hilarious how well you two got along besides the differences.

You two were in the age were kids began to talk about soulmates and their soulmate connections. From writing on the arm to body switches or color blindness, everything was there. In school you briefly have learned about all the indicators and the bond itself, but you seemed to always be the odd one out. There had been no sign whatsoever. Nowhere on your body. Nothing. Niente.

It was frustrating at first. You found yourself way too often admiring older girls who already found their soulmate or had unique indicators. You were quite jealous of them back then.

But then you found out you weren’t the only person without a soulmate connection. There was Yangyang, who went through the exact same emotions as you did. Even if he didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t want to be lonely.

And that is how you two bonded immediately. After this, you were always together. You acted as if you were glued together, never leaving ones side. You felt safe around each other.

Adults always told you to wait and see. That yours would come sooner or later. But nothing. 9 years later and you and Yangyang still haven’t found your soulmate or anything related to soulmates. It still frustrated you at times but being the positive person you were, you just accepted it with the time.

From time to time a lot of people happened to mistaken you two for soulmates. It always made you think ‘what if’...

Your poor heart already had been through so much because of this boy. It wasn’t easy to ignore your small crush on him starting back in 7th grade. You were both growing and having loads of hormonal crises, so it was understandable at some point. But seeing that this crush hasn’t gotten any less since then, you were just totally lost.

‘Stop it y/n! He is not your soulmate! He is not...’

You snapped yourself out of your daydreams and staring as you found Yangyang smiling brightly at you. “Oh damn y/n, lately you’ve beeen really drifting off with your thoughts.” He noted as he slung one arm around your shoulder, walking with you towards your apartment, making sure to not forget your groceries at the side of the tree.

“I noticed...maybe I should just get some more sleep.” You mumbled in your sweater paws in order to warm up your freezing hands. The boy besides you let out an airy laugh while squeezing your shoulder affectionately. One habit he unconsciously took over, over time.

“Oh yes you should. Weren’t you like playing games up until 4 am last night? You sure you aren’t a zombie by now?” He joked looking over to you, you both nearly choking from air as your eyes met, making your hearts race a bit faster.

You nodded quickly focusing on the snow on the ground again. “I kinda suck. How do you sleep at 12 am already? You’re a wonder kid.”

He shrugged his shoulders, still watching you. “It’s in my genes to be a wonder kid.” His joke made you giggle slightly. Yangyang was as always Yangyang. And you found it incredibly charming. You could never deny that.

After the short walk from the snow covered park to your apartment with all of your hands filled with full grocery bags, you decided to bake some Christmas cookies before Yangyang had to head back to his shared apartment. Ever since he began training in SM entertainment as a trainee, he hadn’t that much time like he did before. But either way, you were incredibly proud of him and always happy to spend some quality time with him.

You were lucky that none of your roommates were home, visiting family over the holidays or hanging out with their partners.

It was probably the best that you were alone because you both made a whole mess in the kitchen. It was so much fun hanging out after a long time but it was a hell of a ride to clean it all up.

When the moon was already at its highest point and the night air got even fresher and chillier, Yangyang hugged you goodbye with butterflies dancing in his stomache. He would always treasure these moments with you and think about them again when he was so hardly trying to fall asleep. It was like his mind was full of you 24/7. Even if he tried staying focused on his tasks, it would most of the times end up with him thinking about your laugh and smile as you sat on the couch next to each other while making fun of the twilight characters.

He wanted to scream in his pillow how devestatingly in love he was with you at this point. You made him just so overly happy. He wanted to be near you so bad.

And people noticed. They noticed how Yangyang showed his deepest hidden personalities only to you. His playful and quirky side but also his soft and vulnerable. He simply could be himself around yourself. And you felt exactly the same. You would tell him even your deepest secrets. You knew he would keep them safe.

Yangyang was surprised to see his fellow roommates and friends still awake in the living room as he arrived home. Ten, Hendery and Lucas were all sprawled out on the couch, seemingly waiting for sleep to take over them. The flat was confusingly quiet despite the slight background noice of the TV.

“Hey guys I’m back! Why are you still awake?” It was silent for a short while before Hendery suddenly stood in front of him, making him jump by surprise.

The older boy watched him with a growing smirk and exciting twinkling eyes. “And? Did you tell her? Please say yes, we all stayed awake just to hear the news.”

Yangyang let out a sigh, he didn’t know he was holding and stripped out of his jacket. He knew this question would come but not this soon. “Just let me breathe for a second alright? I’m gonna tell you everything.”

Ten in the background let out an excited scream. “Yangyang! You did it? Ohh finally manning up and confessing...I see.” The teasing but excited tone in his voice was as clear as daylight.

“What? No... it’s not like that...” Yangyang tried to explain the situations to his friends as he walked inside heading towards the living room with Hendery behind him.

Groans came from all sides. “You didn’t?! Oh man I really thought you finally would. What are you afraid of?” The older boys words stung inside of the youngest. He shrugged his shoulders sitting besides Lucas on the couch, grabbing the nearest pillow.

“I don’t know. Like I really don’t know. She’s absolutely amazing and so stunning but...” he placed his head on the pillow with a deep sigh. “But...I feel like I’m just a coward. Just thinking about that we probably are not soulmates or never be an actual couple. It all sucks. I wish I could just tell her...”

All the boys were deep in their thoughts as they listened carefully to Yangyang sorrows and worries. They knew they needed to help the kid in some kind of way. This had been the fifth day he decided to confess but all the prior nights turned out to be a failure. He just wanted his heart to be opened by the one person he loves the most. But it felt like there was a thick layer of securing foam around it, just waiting to be ripped away. If it was just that easy...

“Hey...I know this might sound stupid but since you seem pretty lost...I might have an idea how it will be easier for you to overcome yourself.” Lucas suddenly interrupted his train of thoughts, smiling brightly at his roommates. “Oh lord...please don’t say something stupid.” Ten prayed next to him with his hand holding his forehead.

“Tell me more.”

And that was how the plan was born.

A bulletproof plan in Lucas and Henderys eyes.

And a totally stupid one in Ten’s opinion.

But Yangyang did it anyways.

Cause he was desperate, frustrated and so full of love, it was impossible for him to think 100% straight. And he did it only for you. With the intention of getting your attention in the fullest way.

It was dyeing your hair. In freaking neon green. Cause what’s a better way to show your feelings than dying your hair in your crushes favorite color?

A lot actually. But Hendery and Lucas were absolutely confident that it had something to do with the human psyche and the law of attraction or whatever they called it. Their belief: you will fall for him immediately by the time you see his hair.

The only problem with this was that this plan was obviously not thought through yet and that the only hair coloring product in this house that came the closest to your favorite color, which was green, was a bright neon green. Yuta brought it over once for Ten to dye his Neon green highlights. And Yuta indeed could pull it off.

But Yangyang began to regret ever listening to his older friends again. He looked ridiculous. Looking himself with a frown in the mirror of the bathroom at 3 am was definitely not how he imagined this day to end.

Lucas lightly joked that he at least looked somehow christmasy. But then on the other hand Hendery couldn’t stop laughing about his own joke that he found his list highlighter. It was a mess. Ten wouldn’t even want to look at his hair and when he did, all he could say was “I told you”. It was even more frustrating.

All he could do now was sleep and wish it all just had been a dream. He didn’t really had the urge anymore to show you his hair. All he wanted to do was think about you laughing and running in the snow earlier today. And he really nearly forgot his hair dilemma for the night.

You on the other hand decided to go to sleep earlier that night since you nearly hadn’t gotten any sleep at all because of your assignments for university. It was more than exhausting for you to stay up till morning to finish up all your projects. Yangyang had to force you to go to bed at the end of the day and you didn’t even complain with his soothing voice telling you stories, slowly tugging you to your dream world.

The next morning, you woke up groaning with a heavy headache. One look at your phone and you could see it was 6:30. With a long sigh you fell back into your comfortable pillows, scrolling through your phone. Why did you have to wake up that early again? Right...university.

After what seems definitely too short for your liking, you finally climbed out of your bed, trotting towards the bathroom. There was no sign whatsoever that the headache would just go away by itself.

But as soon as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you let out a deafening scream. Your heart was thrumming as fast as never before and your adrenaline was rushing through your whole body. You couldn’t find a way to properly breathe at that exact moment.

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god... please let this be a dream. Nonononono. Fuck.” You mumbled to yourself while your hands searched for support at the border of the sink.

Your eyes met in the mirror in front of you. Neon green eyes. Neon fucking green. That... that was not good.

There were so many questions in your mind all at once. But one thing was sure. You wouldn’t set a single step outside of this apartment. No one could ever see you like that. You looked like a monster. As you tried rubbing your eyes continuously or trying to find a contact lenses inside of them, you came to the conclusion that you were damned.

There were many possible explanations:

1. You somehow slept too less or have some sort of hallucination due to whatever.

2. Yangyang played a prank on you and is just waiting for you to call him.

3. You suddenly have gotten a really rare disease or disability over night.

Or the most likely one (except for Yangyang and his prank maybe)

4. You just found your soulmate connection.

Your eyes widen with realization and shock, as you came to the conclusion that this could be your possible soulmate indicator. You have learned so much about them in school and by yourself that you could easily tell what it was.

It was a rare connection. But it was possible. Having your soulmates hair color as your eye color. You were 80% sure that was the reason.

The other 20% you just thought about Yangyang. How he couldn’t be your soulmate. He would have told you that he was planning to dye his hair in NEON GREEN. What in the world was this even for a hair color?

You sat down on the floor to grasp your wilding thoughts and sort out your over rushing emotions. You couldn’t pinpoint why, but your thoughts drifted off to said boy every two seconds. It made no sense at all but your subconscious probably just wanted to tell you how stupid your feelings for the Chinese boy were. He still was your best friend of many many years. You knew this day would come. The day you would finally realize that you were no soulmates. Despite all your deepest wishes.

The whole situation was nearly ironic. Neon green eyes? That could only happen to you.

With wobbly legs you waddled over to your bedroom to pick up your phone. The blood from your hands nearly disappeared all at once and left your fingers cold as ice. You pressed Yangyangs caller ID without even thinking. You knew it was still very early and it was his free day but this was definitely an emergency.

Unconsciously you began biting your finger nails nervously, trying to think straight but failed. Everything was all over the place.

After the nth peeping tone, you could hear some dampened muffles on the other side. “Y/n? Why is- are you calling?” You heard the boys broken morning voice through the speaker, gently tugging on your heartstrings. Your heart wasn’t ready for this that early.

“Uhm...I ...well Yangyang? I kind of have a big problem and I cannot leave the house. Can you...if it isn’t too much trouble... I mean come over? I just- I really don’t know what to do...” you rambled on, not knowing what to say in a situation like that. He had to see it himself to understand. God that was awful.

More ruffling could be heard, followed by damp footsteps. “Oh...yeah sure. You sound really frustrated Y/n, is everything okay? Should I bring you something?” He questioned you with concern mirroring his voice. You shook your head, remembering he couldn’t see it.

“No it’s fine... I just need some really good advices. Its just weird. You will see when you come.” You explained to him, still biting your finger nails. “Alright I will be there in a bit. I’ll still bring you some chocolate tho, that’s always one solution.” Yangyang tried to lift up your seemingly worried mood, succeeding immediately and earning a chuckle from you.

“Thank you. You are the best. See you soon.” The line went dead and left you with a more comforting feeling than before. You were still sure everyone looking at you would scream out loud but at least Yangyang was there for you and could buy you contacts or whatever. You were always thankful to have someone like him in your life.

Not half an hour later, said boy rang the bell to your apartment. You prayed to god that none of your roommates got up because of the noice. You wouldn’t want anyone to see you like this... except for Yangyang.

In a hurry you put on a pair of sunglasses, you found on your dresser before running to the door to let him in. It wasn’t your intention to scare him away in the beginning, even though you know he would never.

The Chinese boy looked tired when you opened the door but you could still see the worry written on his face. He wore a black beanie and his long padded jacket. He looked absolutely adorable for you in that moment. But realization hit you when you couldn’t see any differences from yesterday. The heavy feeling immediately made its way to your heart. You felt horrible. You were right, he couldn’t be your soulmate. How stupid you were...

“Y/n what’s the problem? Why are you wearing sunglasses? Did you hurt your eye? Did someone hit you?!” Yangyang lowkey panicked. You dragged him inside, leaving him no time to remove most of his clothing items besides his dirty shoes.

You pulled him into your room exhaling deeply while pushing him gently on your bed to sit down. You stood in front of him still with your sunglasses on.

“I...I found out my soulmate indicator. I did right this morning.”

There was an indefinable silence in the air for a second. There was a slight drop in the boys facial expression. His heart ripped open like a bag of candy. Spilling all his content. “Wha-what...” was all he could mutter. His gaze drifting off to your feet, trying to get his thoughts straight.

“I don’t know I just...woke up like this...please don’t scream.” You scrambled nervously, taking off your sunglasses slowly and revealing your neon green eyes to him.

His mouth dropped immediately. With hammering heart and shaking hands he subconsciously reached for his beanie. If his emotions would ride the wildest rollercoaster, it would be this moment right now. Everything was all over the place but his heart lead it’s way.

Your big eyes fixated on the neon green mop of hair on top of Yangyangs head. It was hard not to forget how to breathe in that moment. “Yangyang...” you whispered softly, stepping closer and reaching for his hair, which was exact the same color as your eyes. “You...what?! Why didn’t you tell me? I was so... worried.”

He looked into your eyes, not finding fear or shock, no, there was happiness in them. Pure happiness, which surprised you immensely. There was a small smile on his lips. “Worried about what?” He reached for your hand. Emotions spilling over the top.

You sat down next to him, turning your body towards him. The blood was rushing so loud through your ears, it was hard to focus on your own thoughts. It was now or never y/n!

“About having someone else as a soulmate than... you. God it sounds so cheesy but it’s true.” You chuckled nervously wanting to chew on your nails but being stopped by Yangyang. His smile grew even bigger, letting it impossible for you not to smile.

He suddenly pulled you into a tight hug, giggling like a child. Your hands searching grip on his fluffy jacket. A warm feeling spread through your whole body. You felt wonderful. Like all sorts of sorrows and worries had been taken away from you. Immediately.

“I’m so so so happy Y/n... so happy.” He mumbled joyfully in your shoulder. He squeezed your body tight. “I wanted to confess to you. So many times. God I really fell hard for you and now I know why.”

He looked into your eyes once again, surpressing a laugh but still sending you heart eyes.

“I’m sorry but you really look ridiculous. I’m so sorry about that. I had no idea.” You nodded playfully glaring at him but still leaning closer into his touch, wanting to be even closer to him. It was a weird feeling. But everything just made sense to you now. Every single moment and feeling in the past. It was all because of your soulmate connection. You were soulmates all along and you never had a clue.

“Oh you better dye that hair back right now to black or you wait for neon pink eyes yourself.” You warned him playfully. “Even though you look like a Christmas tree... I mean it’s kinda cute.” You admitted playing with his hair in hope for him not to see your incoming blush.

Yangyang grinned to himself, unable to hold back his emotions as he saw your pinky cheeks from the compliment. He felt so giddy suddenly. “Hendery and Lucas were absolutely convinced that you would fall for me easier when I’d dye my hair in your favorite color. Unfortunately they only had neon green one left at this point in time. Please remind me to never trust them again. That was a horrible idea.”

Your heart swelled up by his words. “You did this because of me? Oh Yangyang...” your hand went to his arm. You would lie if you didn’t feel flattered in this moment. “You’re such an idiot... but a very very cute one.” You smiled at him in awe, “I appreciate it. But by all means please let us dye it back.” You both began to fall into a fit of laughter, unable to stop.

“Deal. This hair and your eyes should be banned from this country.” And with that you could proudly say that you finally found your soulmate. The person you were in love with all along. Your best friend and partner in crime. Liu Yangyang.

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pinky-the-elephant-room · 4 years

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AN: Ok so I’ve been gone for a while but I’ve hit a milestone in my followers and I decided to write one for my original anime hubby. He’s an oldie but a classic. Everyone loves Kakashi-sensei. Anyway It’s a long one so I hope you enjoy!

Warning: Implied smut but fairly SFW.

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Everyone has read the Fanfiction, and everyone has read the stories. Someone mysteriously dies and gets reborn in a new world. Only to train and become a badass before eventually getting their favorite character to fall in love with them. All while changing the story to prevent people, they’ve never met from dying. It was a wish fulfilment story and it works as entertainment. But real life is so much more difficult than anyone realizes.

Because in the end the person I was before never really changed even when I was reborn into a world of ninjas.

My first memory that I can clearly remember is eating ice cream outside my parent’s farm. I was born in a mundane village a few miles from Konoha. Ice cream was a rare summer treat that my parents occasionally indulged me and my five siblings in. It was on this rice farm where I spent the first five years of my childhood. I went to a civilian school that taught me to write and read before spending the rest of my days helping my family. I remembered nothing from my previous life. Just flashbacks and deja vus that left reminiscent feelings lurking in the back of my mind. Kanji was unexpectedly hard for me versus my sibling who picked it up with ease. Yet, when I finally grasped the language, I kept journals of writings not knowing that it was a passion resembling my former self. I also never understood my connection with cats. I was known as the resident cat girl that went around picking up stray cats to bring back to our farm. And the cats formed a bond, only tolerating me and hissing at everyone else who dared to approach them.

The peaceful years unfortunately didn’t last. Over the years war and bandits took a toll on our quiet town and maintaining a farm was no longer profitable. So, my parents made the decision to sell off their land and move to Konoha. Though, my parents were apprehensive, me and my sibling were ecstatic at living in a shinobi village. Everyone knew of shinobis, the legends surrounding them. Tales of bravery, heartache, and loyalty, it fascinated the residents of the village.

We moved into Konoha early August just before winter arrived and were citizens after 3 months. The process was short due to our lack of shinobi lineage and arriving from a civilian farm town. It was in Konoha that I really got my first exposure to what shinobis actually were. Seeing them jump off the roofs while my father tended his produce stall was mesmerizing. Playing ninja with the rest of the kids and constantly being surrounded by the hype eventually got to the point where I wanted to become a ninja myself. Along with two of my younger siblings, I begged my parents to attend the academy. They eventually relented when they realized the village offered funding for civilian children to attend. I was the only one out of my siblings to pass the entrance exam. I was the only one physically fit enough where they thought I had potential. when I left for that first day, it led to some tantrums and pouting from my siblings who didn’t make it. They eventually overcame their jealousy. They loved to hear about each and every new jutsu that I learned.

It was at the academy when I first saw him. It was him who destroyed my delusions and awakened my suppressed memories. It was Itachi Uchiha. Yet, despite his young age he kept up with the rest of his older classmates. He was only 5 years old, a prodigy amongst prodigies. When I saw his cherub, cute face for the first time, it gave me a headache. It started off as a numbing sensation on the side of my head. I collapsed on my bed from the exhaustion, closing my eyes because the blurred vision made the pain that much worse. I slept off my headache for the rest of the day. And all my previous memories were unlocked.

I was a boring human being. A lazy person who had a multitude of mental issues that barely survived off my paycheck. Got married to an equally mundane individual and by the time we were 30, the passion had worn off. We never got divorced, too afraid of dating again and leaving our two children without each other. The only happiness that kept me grounded was my writing and my hobbies. Growing up I loved anime and lessened as I grew up with more and more responsibility. But Naruto was my childhood and coping mechanism when I got bullied. And out of Naruto was my favorite character, Itachi Uchiha.

I don’t think I need to explain why anyone likes Itachi. From his tragic background and his love for his younger brother. Once as a naïve girl, I wanted to find someone like him or at least wished for a brother who loved his younger siblings like he did. And now somehow those desires came true. Because he sat only 3 rows away. Coupled with my new body’s memories of admiration for the young boy and along with my love and knowledge of what he was going to do in the future, made me yearn for him.

Not in a weird, sexual way. After all, I was still only 8 and he 5, but I wanted to be his friend. I wanted to be his confidant and most of all I wanted to save him.

When I spotted him alone at a lunch break, I decided to go introduce myself. This was going to be the new beginning of a friendship and hopefully more down the lane.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves before approaching the quiet boy.

“Hello, are you Itachi-kun? Nice to meet you! I’m L/N Y/N and I sit behind you,” I cheerfully said and waved at him excitedly.

He blinked slowly and stared at me for a few minutes.

“Yes…. Nice to meet you too,” he uttered.

He stared at me for a few more minutes, making the situation more and more awkward. I let out a nervous chuckle and shuffled my feet at his intense gaze.

Itachi raised his eyebrow as if asking if I wanted anything else.

“Well I-“ I began, but was interrupted by a loud screech.

A boy collided with Itachi and knocked him over. The two tussled for a few minutes, the unknown boy laughing gleefully. While Itachi just sighed and dodged his rambunctious friend.

“Oy! Itachi, did you bring an extra bento that Mikoto-sama prepared?” The boy looked up and I stopped breathing.

It was a clearly healthy and alive, Shisui Uchiha. After a few minutes as the boys conversed, Shisui finally noticed me standing awkwardly in front of them.

He looked at me curiously and asked, “who are you?”

“That’s just my classmate. Anyway, Shisui I have my bento over there. Come,” the solemn boy said. The two boys then left while I just watched wide eyed.

Ok, so the first introduction didn’t go as I planned but I tried multiple times. However, each attempt was just as awkward as the first as I stammered and squirmed in front of Itachi’s inquisitive gaze. Apparently, my inept skills at talking to boys had somehow labeled me as a fangirl, I overheard the young boy tell his cousin.

Once after class, I watched a pretty Izumi clutch a content Itachi as he conversed with Shisui. The three Uchiha unaware of the turmoil in my heart as they went home for the day happily. I realized that day Itachi didn’t have a place for me. This world had no place for me because I was never meant to be here. This story wasn’t mine and it was never going to be.

I never tried again to attempt a conversation, too embarrassed by being called a fangirl. Before I knew it, the year was over and Itachi had graduated early along with his talented cousin. Farther away from my reach than ever, I again realized the difference between myself and the genius. I was still stuck in the academy at 9 years old with my peers. Most of all I knew in the depths of my heart that I couldn’t save him from his fate. Reality was much more bitter than anyone realized.

As for me I finally graduated on my birthday and my parents took us all out for yakitori at a restaurant. I was still going to try my hardest to be the best shinobi I possibly could be. At least if I couldn’t save Itachi and the Uchiha from the inevitable, which I doubt most people in my place could.

Unfortunately for me, my hardest didn’t amount to much. My sensei was a young impatient Genma who ironically had a toothpick in his mouth instead of a senbon. Let me summarize it for you, my team failed. Miserably. I stood there in horror, watching as my hopes and dreams for the future dissolved right in front of me. I rushed after Genma, pleading, and begging for another chance. Even resorting to full on ugly crying while he stood looking painfully uncomfortable.

“Please! I just wanna make a difference!” I begged as tears dripped down my face.

He sighed. “Fine! Just please stop crying. You’re embarrassing yourself and me.”

Genma recommended me for the Genin corps. It wasn’t where I wanted to be, but I also didn’t want to go back to academy. I figured if I spent a year on the corps, I could eventually find myself a Genin team before advancing onto Chunin.

However, once again what actually happened was far from my expectation. I didn’t spend a year or 2 years. I spent 7 years on the Genin corps. S-E-V-E-N. Years. I even spent a year on a Genin team when I was 13 only to realize my potential compared to my peers was very low. Don’t get me wrong my reincarnated body was ten times healthier and in shape than my previous coach potato one. I could barely run a mile in my previous life whereas now I could run 3 miles. However, that achievement paled in comparison to the average ninja. No matter what I did, whether it was taijutsu, genjutsu, or even ninjutsu was dull compared to everyone else. My punches lacked force, I didn’t have enough chakra for the higher level jutsus, and I couldn’t even tell the difference between a basic genjutsu to a complicated one.

Basically, I sucked, so I stuck to Genin corps. For the money of course, it paid pretty well in comparison to civilian jobs. I bought an apartment at 15 and I was able to provide for myself. But the crushing truth took a toll on my mental health. I just spend the time where I wasn’t working in my bed. I barely had energy to feed myself. I didn’t snap out of until I got straightened out by my mother.

“Y/N! When was the last time you took a bath or had a proper night sleep?!” Okasan yelled when she made an impromptu visit to my apartment.

I shrugged and took a bite of my rice ball that Okasan so nicely prepared for me.

“Look, I know being a ninja was your goal. But not everything in life works out. And not everyone has to be a shinobi to have a good life!” she said as her eyes softened.

“But what else am I supposed to do? I’ve been training to be a shinobi since I was 8 years old and none of the other jobs pay so generously,” I replied dully.

Okasan reached over and patted my hand. “Well, you don’t have to quit being a Genin just yet. Try new things or figure what else you want to do before you retire. Hell, when was the last time you had a hobby? You don’t even write like you use to.”

I considered it, maybe I could take up calligraphy or start writing again like I used to. I haven’t written anything down since I made Genin.

“Alright, I’ll think about it. But I’m not promising anything,” I grumbled.

“As long as you snap out of this funk and start taking care of yourself is all I ask for, Y/N” Okasan said with a soft smile.

It took a while after that conversation, but little by little I started to put in effort again. I cut my shaggy hair into an acceptable style, showered every day, and ate my meals on time. I even adopted a little stray off the streets that made itself home in my small apartment. One night coming home after my late shift, I stopped by a bookstore to buy a sturdy journal. I started off by journaling my daily life before letting my creative mind drift. In my previous life, I was a self-published erotica writer that basically did it for fun. Maybe it was something I could attempt again.

There were many drafts before I settled on a topic that I felt passionate about. In the Elemental nations, they idealized a woman who waited. Just take the bestselling Icha Icha novel for example, it involved a ninja who abandoned his wife because he was scared his enemies would target her. He spent the entire novel hoeing his way through the countries, only to realize he was still in love with his wife. The wife, who by the way, spent years celibate and faithfully waiting for her husband. That novel made me infuriatingly mad because it highlighted the double standards of the world I was born in so well. Hell, even in the future Sakura and Hinata would waste their lives, faithfully waiting on the men they love to reciprocate their feelings.

So, for my novel I decided to juxtapose those stereotypes by writing a novel about a woman named Sayaka whose boyfriend would break up with her, unknowing she was pregnant with his child. She spends her life trying to provide for her child, only for him to be kidnapped because he had a rare keikei genkai. She hires a local mercenary (Mahiro) except he’s not interested in her money but rather her. The rest of the plot was not decided yet, but I would see where it goes and plan accordingly.

The more I wrote the better I felt and the disappointment that was my career no longer felt like a death sentence. Without a laptop or anything to help me write, I had to resort to buying a used typewriter. Still I would rush home each day, excited to write another chapter. Or to get lost in the filthy world of the mercenary and desperate mother. There weren’t a lot of people I could trust to edit so I spent months editing and reediting until I had the best version of my novel. And then when I was done, I had no idea what to do with it. Did I really want to become an erotica author in this world? As violent as it was, the Elemental nations were still conservative regarding sexuality. There were many female readers who loved Icha Icha but didn’t show it in public because it was seen as a dirty book for old men. After much deliberation, I decided to contact publishing agencies that weren’t affiliated with Icha Icha.

Waiting for their responses took months and many rejections before my novel was picked up by a small agency that mostly published Nonfiction. The agency would send an editor to talk about contracts and the novel itself to Konoha. So, by my 18th birthday, I was anxiously awaiting where else fate would take me.

The editor and I had decided on a family restaurant to meet up and I dressed in my best clothes to give off the optimum impression. I really wanted this to work out for me. For once.

It didn’t take long before a harried young man in a suit came in and looked around anxiously.

“Nino-san! Over here!” I called out and waved my hand to get his attention.

He looked at me in surprise and sat down across from me.

“Uh, hello. Excuse me can you tell when Y/N-san will arrive? I’m kind of on a deadline.”

I looked at him weirdly. “Um, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you,” I said cautiously.

He stuttered wildly, blushing as he pointed at me. “B-be serious! No way are you her! You’re way too young to be writing such a – “

“Filthy, dirty novel?” I finished wryly.

He shook his head vigorously. “No! I meant such a hardcore erotica! I-I’m so sorry that came out wrong.”

I just laughed. “It’s ok. I’m a shinobi, we age faster than we look due to the trauma.”

We spent the next hour talking about the novel itself and how it would be promoted.

“So, Y/N-san. Our agency usually doesn’t deal with erotica. But your novel has a good chance to sell well if someone promoted it correctly. We want this to be known as the Icha Icha for women.”

I felt my eyebrows furrow. “Isn’t that a little presumptuous? Won’t I just get hate if I don’t live up to the expectations?”

The man let out a chuckle. “That’s true but I don’t think most people will be disappointed by it. Besides it’s very important for new authors to get their name out there. Maybe for future sequels we can tone it down, but for the first one we want to start off with a bang! Any publicity is better than none,” he reasoned.

Realizing the editor might have a point, I agreed and signed a contract with the publishing agency. The novel was due to be out December which is 6 months from now on. For the first time in a while I had achieved my goals. I had managed something without it going terribly wrong.

I got a small sum of money when I signed the contract, but I really wouldn’t be to collect royalties until the book was published. So, for the rest of my time I diligently did my job as a Genin by delivering messages and other nonsense jobs that were left over. As I avoided the shinobi bars that were filled with accomplished Chunins and Jounins, I promised myself that I would never again be embarrassed to walk these streets again. For the past few years, I had kept my eyes down as I walked through the villages as I got older and older, yet I still remained a Genin.

‘Please no more. Give me something to be proud of.’ I begged in my mind. Even if it meant a trashy porn, I was so low on self-esteem, anything would be worthwhile.

Luckily for me, it seemed like 18 years of bad karma was finally going to be turned around as the date to publish my novel got closer and closer. The agency hadn’t lied, they promoted my novel almost aggressively. Every bookstore had huge advertisement declaring the next big hit. Though, I had giggled almost manically when I saw the book’s cover for the first time. It reminded me of the many trashy novels from my previous life with the man’s shirtless abs on display with a beautiful woman clinging. However, for my novel it was obviously a rogue shinobi with his chest on display as a young girl clutched his biceps. Scarlet Heart series was the name I had chosen, and it stood out on the erotic cover. I saw many curious women fluttering around the display, almost shy in showing their interest. I even saw a man pulling away his pregnant wife as she read the synopsis, muttering angrily to himself.

When the launch of the book occurred, I holed myself in my apartment. I tried to relax and keep myself busy so I wouldn’t be too occupied with the reactions. I even took an entire week off from my usual work, feigning sickness in my family. I hung out with my oldest brother and his newborn son, trying to reacquaint myself with the siblings that I had long neglected.

I met up later with my editor to discuss how the book was faring, hopefully it did decent enough that I could have reason to continue my story. We met up at the same restaurant as before and Nino gave me a brilliant smile that quelled my fears.

“Y/N-san, your book’s sales did amazing in Konoha followed by Iwa and Kumo. The marketing towards women paid off because most of the sales came from women in their 20s to 40s. Heck, there were even a substantial amount from men who were curious. I think you should definitely continue this series. Do you have an idea where you’re going to take the story?” he gushed with excitement.

I sighed with relief, “I’m glad. I was so worried about the response I didn’t even go near any bookstores! As for sequels I have an inkling. I still have to work out everything, but I want to introduce Sayaka’s ex-boyfriend and maybe dabble in a proper love triangle.”

Nino-san nodded and said, “you should be careful how you write that triangle though. Some love triangles can get tedious and annoying, but it does play its part well in keeping the audience’s interest.”

Nino-san and I eagerly discussed the future for Scarlet Heart. I felt a flutter in my heart, knowing that for the first in forever I had something to look forward to.

Time Skip~ 1-year Kakashi POV:

Really with everything he had endured in his life, you would think the world would be willing to give him a break, right? Nope!

Most think it started with Obito’s death, but he thought it started with his father’s suicide that really began the downward spiral. Nevertheless, after his teammate’s death, he and Rin had rushed into a presumably “relationship”. But really it was a way to keep her close, so he didn’t lose anyone else. They never even kissed though he knew Rin desperately wanted to do all the things that couples do. But he remained closed off in those four months before she was killed. By him no less.

Afterwards included him coping with his trauma by joining Anbu (and for a short while Root). His sensei became Hokage; but even he would pass away along with his wife, leaving behind a tiny blond sacrifice for the village to turn their resentment against.

But he was getting ahead himself months before Rin’s death Jiraiya-sama had approached him with a gift.

Jiraiya gave him an exaggerated wink and giggled. “Here gaki. You’re so depressed that Minato and Kushina keep thinking they might have to stage an intervention. But what you need is a distraction and I have just the thing!”

He had handed over a book with a bright red cover before hopping roof to roof all the while laughing obnoxiously.

He took it with a surge of curiosity, emotions he hadn’t felt in a while since Obito tragically passed away (AKA crushed by a boulder, but he digresses).

That started his love, well more like obsession, with the Icha Icha series. First, he was revolted and ashamed, eager to find the Sannin and perhaps show him the effectiveness of his Chidori. But over time his curiosity couldn’t be contained, and he finished the naughty book in two days. He noticed how when he was occupied with the book, he hadn’t once thought of Obito and everything that was wrong with his life. Of course, he had a girlfriend then so he couldn’t risk being seen with the book outside of his humble apartment. But a year after Rin’s death, he ventured out with his hobby. The reactions of the general public had amused him beyond belief and a strange sense of vindictive righteousness set upon seeing his Anbu kohais’ reactions.

The reactions only encouraged him to read everywhere and anywhere. He even managed to piss off Gai once as the incensed man ran away to do a 100 more laps around the village. It didn’t last long before he reappeared to challenge Kakashi once more, but Kakashi appreciated the brief reprieve.

Anyway, the point of this rather tragic flashback wasn’t to gain sympathy for himself, but to showcase the real injustice that occurred at his tender age of 25. His beloved Icha Icha had a rival apparently. Which was bullshit, obviously. He wasn’t blind to the errors of the pornographic novel. The plot was simple, characters were paper-thin, and as more novels debuted in the series, the more apparent the similarities between each novel became. But the series was fast moving, the sex was incredibly detailed and arousing, and the series was frankly addicting. Once someone became a fan, it was impossible not to reach for the next one.

So, when he heard about this supposed series that was going to rival Icha Icha, he had scoffed and rolled his eyes. Many contenders claimed the same thing before they faded off into oblivion when everyone realized the superiority of Icha Icha. The first four months of the series’ debut he made it his mission to ignore all the hype and kept rereading his collection. After all, when the next issue of Icha Icha released, everyone would forget the hype of this wannabe.

Unfortunately, the world never adheres to his expectations and loves to fuck him over every chance it got. Kakashi, once again, had failed another Genin team because Hokage-sama thought he had potential as a sensei. He must have been smoking that pipe too much lately. The rest of his fellow Jounin invited him to a bar where he reluctantly agreed and was dragged off by Asuma.

They settled in and ordered some drinks, while Kakashi read his book, half listening to the conversation around him.

“I’m telling you this book is really good. I know people say it’s for women, but it’s so much more than that.” Kurenai persuaded Genma who just looked skeptical.

“Even Asuma liked it!” She pointed to the smoker who just looked embarrassed at the sudden attention.

Asuma cleared his voice a couple times. “Well, it’s not that bad at all. It kept me busy for a couple of hours for a few days.”

Kurenai rolled her eyes at him. “He loved it. He told me he did.”

Kakashi’s interest peaked and he lowered his book down.

“Wait, are you talking about that new series that everyone’s losing their minds over?”

Kurenai’s eyes lit up and she looked eager rather than the calm, collected Jounin she usually was.

“Yeah, you read it Kakashi? I never thought for once you would put down that trash and try something else.”

Kakashi felt his ire rise and his single visible eyesmiled at the red eyed kunoichi.

“Why Kurenai doesn’t that book also have porn in it? Doesn’t that mean you read trash too?”

Kurenai’s cheeks heated up. “Well, it does but it’s also about a betrayed woman who learns to love again and honestly it’s much more nuanced than whatever Icha Icha achieved in its six sequels.”

Kakashi felt his eyebrows rise. He highly doubted that, but he couldn’t help but add in.

“And how do you know what’s in Icha Icha?”

The blush on Kurenai’s face deepened. “I might have read it but only because Anko forced me to. To ‘loosen’ up or whatever that means.”

Their fellow Jounin chuckled as Kurenai tossed back a drink as she tried to cool her overheated face.

The conversation moved on mercifully for the embarrassed woman, but Kakashi also lost his interest and he returned to the passage where Misaki was educating her lover on the preciseness of oral sex.

Kakashi hoped that would be the last time he ever heard of that book. But again, the hype for this novel continued. He spotted more women with erotica in their hands than he ever did in his lifetime. Even kunoichi seemed to have lost their minds as the book was the hot topic no matter where he went. Even the Hokage’s secretary was seen reading the porn while she was on the job. He was sick and tired of hearing about this supposedly incredible book. Kakashi just wanted to read his book in peace can’t the village go back to a time where it wasn’t consumed by porn?

Kakashi sighed as another day passed and yet another Genin team failed. When will Hokage-sama finally get the message he just wasn’t cut out for teaching? He sighed with relief as he flipped the entrance banner of Ichikaru Ramen and sat down on one of the stools.

“Just a miso ramen. Thanks,” he called out tiredly. Kakashi looked around the restaurant and was surprised to see another person at the other end. He barely noticed her; her chakra presence wasn’t much. She was just in a plain white t shirt and some pants. A civilian he guessed. Kakashi turned back when his order was placed in front of him. He stealthily looked around the restaurant and saw no one was paying attention to him. He pulled down his mask and started eating his meal. It was nice not to eat in big gulps for once lest someone saw his face.

When he was halfway through his meal, he heard the sound of someone turning pages and muttering. He turned around to see his neighbor writing in her book and she seemed to be fairly frustrated. Just as Kakashi was about to turn around and mind his business, he noticed that the book was the infamous Scarlet Hearts. He internally groaned. Really? Just how bad was his luck?

“Is the book any good?” He called out to the young girl.

Oh, damn why was he getting her attention? Abort! Abort! This day didn’t consist of making polite conversations with a civvie.

Just as he was about to maybe perform a last minute shunshin, the girl looked up at him and stared at him in surprise.

He felt nervous when she just kept staring at him for a while. Did she recognize him as the “friend killer” and infamous “copycat ninja”?

“Uh- Hello?” He waved his hands in front of her face.

The girl looked startled and flushed. “Oh, sorry. I got lost in thought. What was your question again?”

Kakashi pointed at her book and asked, “the book, is it as good as the hype says it is?”

She just seemed even more startled by the fact that he was asking about her book. “W-well, I’m not sure about other people’s opinions. But it’s worth reading just for curiosity’s sake. I found it pretty good.”

Kakashi stared at the awful book, wishing he could set it on fire just by glaring at it. “See, I don’t see why people are comparing it to Icha Icha. It can’t possibly be that good!”

“I kind of have to agree on that. The marketing really didn’t do it justice,” the girl muttered.

Kakashi tilted his head towards the younger girl and sent a relaxed smile her way. “Ah, thank you. Finally, someone who understands.”

The girl shook her head. “I meant trying to compare the two books wasn’t a good idea. They’re two different books, the only thing they have in common is that they both have explicit scenes.”

Seeing the confused look on his face, the girl further elaborated. “Icha Icha is intended for a one type of audience and it does its job well. There’s nothing wrong with that after all it has an ardent fan in you. But I feel like Scarlet Heart can be enjoyed by any mature individual. And for me what’s the most important thing is that it portrays its women realistically. Icha Icha is based off this fantasy, ideal type of woman who doesn’t have any drama of her own and goes around solving the male character’s issues. Or she’s a passive victim in the overall story for the hero to win over. This heroine in Scarlet Heart is cynical, hard to get to know due to her past. The male character is a typical chauvinistic guy who thinks he can have anyone he wants. But over time as they get to know each other the layers fall apart to show two lonely people who’ve been waiting for someone to connect to.”

Kakashi looked at the girl critically who sent a tentative smile to him after her long explanation. Her features were quite plain and at first glance she wasn’t anything exceptional to look at. But her smile lit up her entire face. He thought over her words, no one had ever explained the book quite like that. But then again, he never gave them the time to explain either. Perhaps, he was wrong to do so.

“Here maybe you would like to form an opinion yourself and see if it holds up,” she said as she handed over her own copy of Scarlet Heart.

He grabbed it from her grip, touching her soft hands by accident, quickly pulling away. “Are you sure? Weren’t you writing in it earlier?”

With a cute prominent blush, she replied, “it’s fine I bought that paperback copy to write in. I have another one at home. You can keep it. If we meet again tell me what you thought of it.”

Kakashi nodded and put the book with his Icha Icha in the weapon pouch on his hip.

“Mah, I’m sure we will. By the way what’s your name? After all, when I see you next time, I have to thank the person who will put up with my complaints.”

“Oh, I’m L/N Y/N. Nice to meet you,” she said with another bright grin aimed his way.

Ignoring the unconscious shivers that erupted on his body, he returned it with another one of his patent fake smiles.

“Hatake Kakashi. Nice to meet you as well, Y/N-san.”

The conversation died a few minutes later and he paid for his meal before leaving for his lonesome apartment. Maybe today the lonely dwelling won’t be so bad to deal with, what with new reading material the night might just pass by really quickly.

Return to Reader’s POV

You know when I began my porn writing journey in the Naruto world, I never for a second thought I would attract Kakashi’s attention. I mean I knew he read porn, but I honestly thought he would stay attached to Icha Icha forever. In the anime, he still read the book even years after Jiraiya’s death, so it just goes to show how much of a devoted fan he was.

When I met him accidently in Ichikaru Ramen, I was in a state of shock. I’m pretty sure he thought I was just another weird fangirl. ‘Just like Itachi.’ I couldn’t help but think.

But him asking about my novel and actually pouting about the attention it gained made me giggle even hours later. Still giving away the novel I was rereading to spot mistakes and plot holes was bold. I genuinely hoped he liked the novel; it would be a huge compliment if I managed to change his perspective. I know I wasn’t ever going to change his mind about Icha Icha, but he had plenty of money to support both series. I probably wasn’t ever going to see him again, but it was nice to interact with a canon character for once without entirely embarrassing myself.

I shook off the excitement from interacting with the scarecrow sensei and tried to focus on brainstorming my second novel. The love triangle was going to become much more integral in this part and I was going have to work extra hard to make readers sympathize and like Shoutaro. Because many of my readers were already enamored with the hotheaded, flirtatious mercenary with a heart of gold, Mahiro. The best way to build the triangle was to showcase pros and cons of both men. Thereby making the triangle stronger and give readers something to root for. While there would be only one man who would get the girl, I wanted readers to feel conflicted between the two men. However, to keep the choice from happening out of nowhere, I also had to hint throughout the novel why Mahiro and Sayaka was the best choice. So, by the third novel when Sayaka made her choice, it wouldn’t seem like it happened out of nowhere. Indeed, the sequel was harder to write than the first one because I had high expectations to overcome this time. Brainstorming even took longer than normal. Though, it was challenging, I decided needed a break and took a trip to the markets to finally restock my empty fridge.

Slowly I made my way through the vegetable stalls and tried to pick out the ripest ones. Most people usually tried to barter the prices. However, since the massive royalties I had more money than I knew what to do with and so I paid the full amount at each stall. Most of the produce stalls were run by elderly couples and they needed the money for their livelihood.

I bowed to an obasan and thanked her when she gave a few extra tomatoes after I paid.

“You know most people would try to barter the prices down to a fair price,” a deep voice interrupted just as I was about to walk away.

I jumped and almost dropped my produce. A steady hand gripped my hips and set me right. I looked up to the masked, silver haired Jounin. I blushed, feeling his strong hands on my body. His single eye widened a bit before he relaxed and let go of me.

“You ok?” he asked.

“Y-yes, thank you. Hatake-san,” I stuttered and bowed my head.

“Ma, no need to call me Hatake-san. That makes me feel older than people think I am.” He said as he waved off my gratitude.

“Hai, K-kakashi-san then. What are you doing here? No offense but I didn’t realize that elite shinobis had time to shop and cook for themselves.”

It was true from what I heard. All elite shinobi, especially men, rarely cooked for themselves relying on easy to make or restaurants meals to get them through the day. Some even ate rations to forgo meals in a rush.

Kakashi raised his eyebrow at me. “Well, I was actually looking for you. I’ve finished the book you loaned me after a week. It’s only right to return it.”

I shook my head. “It’s alright. I told you to keep it didn’t I?”

I felt my head get hit lightly by something. I looked up to see it was my paperback novel. When did he pull that out? Did he have it on him all this time and I didn’t noticed it until now?

“You’re quite stubborn, aren’t you? Let’s just say I needed an excuse to find my partner in crime and tell her my opinion of the book.”

I sighed, realizing that I couldn’t get away from his rant that he will no doubt tell me with relish on how much he hated the book.

“Alright, but I have to put my groceries away.” I said lifting my bags.

“It’s fine. As long as it isn’t milk or meat it wouldn’t be spoiled for a few hours. Come on, I’ll treat you to some dango.” He walked away slightly slouched and relaxed with his hands in his pockets.

I looked after him helplessly, hesitating on whether I should follow or not.

“You better follow him, jou-chan. He’s quite handsome,” the obasan said as she helped another customer. A few giggles slipped out from the customer and I felt my cheeks go hot from embarrassment. I bowed and thanked the elderly lady again before following the Jounin.

I caught up to him in no time, we both walked silently before we came onto the small stand that was selling the sweet.

Kakashi told me to take a seat on a bench nearby as he grabbed the sweets. I put down my groceries near me as I waited for my companion to return.

He came back with two skewers of dango and handed me one while he held onto the other one.

“So, what did you think of the novel?” I asked as I took a bite of the dango.

“I hate it to admit it but it’s good. Not better than Icha Icha of course, but it’s better than some of the others that tried to ride the coattails of Icha Icha.”

I felt a burst of butterflies inside my stomach and I leaned forward eagerly. “Really?!! What did you like it about it specifically?”

He seemed amused at my enthusiasm. “Ah, well I liked how the author built up the romance. They didn’t have sex right away, but when they did it made sense-“

I felt my heartbeat increase and my ears felt hot when I heard the word sex come out of Kakashi’s mouth. How did I ever not know how nice his deep voice was? I bet he would be really good at dirty talk—Ahh, nononono. That was not a good topic to think about while you’re talking to the man. I bit my lip to concentrate on what Kakashi was trying to tell me.

“And I like how the female characters made smart decisions and acted cautiously instead of getting kidnapped all the time. It made them seem like real people instead of plot conveniences.” He finished with an eyesmile.

I returned his smile, liking that he appreciated the portrayal of the female characters. Some of the detractors apparently didn’t like the more rounded characters and felt they should just be used as sauce instead of being the main dish.

“Do you prefer the woman in Scarlet Hearts or Icha Icha?” I asked playfully.

He narrowed his eyes at my tone. “Weeeell, the women in Icha Icha are much more beautiful, but the women in Scarlet Heart are more attainable than the ones in Icha Icha.”

I let out a laugh. “That’s nice to hear. But I’m pretty sure that Sayaka isn’t a real person. Sorry, Kakashi-san.”

He let out a disappointed sigh. “I guess I will have to safeguard my heart until I can find someone close to her then.”

I snorted knowing Kakashi would remain single even at the end of the series where everyone was getting married and having kids.

“What? You think it’s hopeless?”

I just sent him an innocent smile and said,” I have no idea what you’re talking about Kakashi-san.”

Me and Kakashi stayed for a few more minutes before I decided to head home. Kakashi stuck close to me, telling me he would keep me company until I arrived. He looked surprise at the neighborhood I was living in. The small apartment I was previously inhabited was now upgraded to an upscale three-bedroom apartment. It was a safe neighborhood that was occupied by wealthy merchants and high-ranking shinobis. I ignored his reaction and continued to walk toward my apartment.

When I had trouble trying to juggle my groceries and trying to grab my keys from my purse, Kakashi stepped in to grab my bags. I thanked him and opened the door. He casually walked in and left the bags in the kitchen at my directions.

“Would you like some tea? I think some tea would be good with the sweets we just had.” Kakashi just nodded in agreement as he looked around my apartment. The tiny stray who I adopted became a giant, fluffy monster who was now sniffing Kakashi’s feet and rubbing against his legs.

I giggled and left to make some iced sencha green tea. I tried not to let my excitement that THE Hatake Kakashi was standing in my living room, distract me from being a good host. I filled the glass with tea and dropped some ice cubes in it before putting it on a tray and bringing it out to the living room.

“Kakashi-san? Here’s your tea,” I called out happily and looking up to see Kakashi’s back.

I furrowed my eyebrows when he didn’t respond. “Kakashi-san?” He was still turned around and looking at something.

I put the tray down on a coffee table and approached the unresponsive Jounin. I looked down to see papers in his hand and felt my face pale drastically.

“A-ahhh! That’s not for your eyes!” I laughed hysterically and snatched my papers from his hands. I quickly took all my notes and notebooks which I brainstormed in and dropped them off in my bedroom. With a head full of excuses as to why I had Scarlet Heart’s sequel on the sofa, I made my way back to Kakashi.

“You’re the author of Scarlet Heart?”Was the first thing he asked when he saw my face. I felt my face heat up.

“U-um, no! That was just me amateurly writing as to what I think will happen in the future!”

He shot me a serious look. “Do you think I’m stupid? That was the first chapter all neatly written down. And the character profiles of future characters like her ex-boyfriend are all filled out accurately. Plus, you’re a single young girl that’s living in such a rich neighborhood which many people can’t afford unless they have some serious cash. Cash from a recently released erotica maybe?”

His intense gaze made me sweat profusely and I couldn’t hold eye contact for more than a minute.

“Yes. Yes, I’m the author of Scarlet Hearts.” I whispered, looking at the ground.

I quickly gazed back at him when I heard a snort. Kakashi gave me an incredulous look.

“I can’t believe it. Even though I saw it with my own eyes. You’re so young! How old are you, 16?”

I pouted, puffing out my cheeks. “I’m 19! Besides you’re a shinobi what does age even matter? You’re a legal adult when you’re a Genin!”

Kakashi let out a chuckle and softly patted my head. “I know that but you’re a civilian so it’s different.”

I bit my lips deciding whether to tell him I was actually a former Genin corps. Deciding I didn’t need the genius looking at me in pity, I didn’t correct him.

“Well, now that you know. Please keep this a secret, ok? I just want to live in anonymity and write my books. Hence the pen name.”

Kakashi agreed and messed with my hair some more.

“You got it, Y/N-chan.” I blushed at the added chan in my name.

He downed his iced tea in a hurry when an Anbu appeared at the window with a mission for him. I watched with amazement as Kakashi disappeared with a shunshin and then scowled heavily looking at all the leaves on the floor of my apartment.

“Note to self. Do not let elite shinobi shunshin in and out of my apartment,” I grumbled to myself as I swept up.

Kakashi’s POV 2

You know how once you find out something about someone it changes how you look at them. He was now intensely curious about Y/N. He figured she was a normal innocent girl, but boy was he wrong about everything. How was he supposed to know that the sex scenes that had him riveted to the point that he took a shower to calm himself before he resumed reading was written by a cherub slip of a girl? After his discovery Kakashi was unable to leave her alone. He frequently took time out of day when he wasn’t on a mission or training his helpless cute team (he had a team now!!), he was spending time with Y/N. It was kind of weird at first after all he went out of his way to avoid human contact, but in this case, he wanted to know what made her tick. All her favorite things and her habits. Kakashi wanted to know what made her sad or what made her be flushed with happiness.

Most of all he wanted to know how she came up with all the scenarios in her novel. But even he knew that if he asked her bluntly, she would no doubt kick him out of her apartment and refuse to speak to him again. It also didn’t help that his imagination went wild each time he saw her. All those scenarios would inappropriately pop up in his head and she would star in all of them. The blush on her face gave him a good idea on how she would look with her eyes dilated and with him on top. Whenever that happened the excitement coursing through would become prominent and he had to take a few breaths to calm him down. Imagining Gai in a bikini always did the trick for him.

Kakashi, after months of speculation, came to one conclusion as why Y/N was so fascinating. He wanted her. He wanted her in a way that men who were attracted to women did. In a way that meant commitment and all the mushy feelings. He groaned at that idea, Kakashi so didn’t want to act like Minato-sensei whenever he was around his hot-headed wife.

He could just ignore the feelings; he was quite good at ignoring all the turmoil inside of him. But his crisis shinobi therapist said he could no longer do that. He had to solve his lingering issues if he wanted to move forward with his life like his survivor’s guilt and his unresolved issues with his dead father. So that meant he had to make it obvious to Y/N that he liked her. Should he shout his youthful love on the top of the Hokage mountain at early in the morning like Gai would do? Kakashi chuckled at the novel idea. Ok, he was trying to get her to date him not run away from him. Luckily for him, fate decided to not be a bitch this time and give Y/N a nudge.

Kakashi was inside of her apartment like he usually was nowadays with her round monster of a cat on his lap. He absentmindedly patted the feline as he purred away like no one’s business. His ninken weren’t happy with him lately, but they will have to put up with it because Y/N was going to be around him for a long time if he had anything to say about it. He looked at Y/N who was hard at work on her second novel, typing away at the machine she called a typewriter. No matter what Kakashi did today, he wasn’t able to get her attention. She was intensely focused on the sex scenes apparently, which was a shame. Because he was right here, and she could be doing much more than just imagining it.

A mischievous idea popped into his head.

“So, Y/N-chan,” he called out.

She responded with a distracted “hm”.

“Do those explicit parts have any truth to them?”

That got the attention of Y/N and she turned around with a confused look.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean most people write about what they know. So, I’m asking if you have attempted anything from the books you write?”

Kakashi had pride within himself for the many ways he made Y/N blush. But the flush on her cheeks, ears, and her neck had no rival with the way her eyes seem to swirl with embarrassment.

“Kakashi-kun! I-I-. You can’t just ask that!”

“It’s true though. Everyone does research for their novels. Especially Jiraiya-sama,” he stated nonchalantly despite his eyes beaming with amusement.

She pressed her hands against her overwhelmingly hot cheeks.

“I’m not like that Sannin! I’ve never had sex before! I’m still a virgin. I just write whatever pops into my head,” she mumbled out.

Kakashi got up and made his way to Y/N. He leaned into her face as Y/N tried to scramble back, trying to get some space in between them.

“Y/N, if you ever need inspiration for your book. I’m right here and I’m happy to volunteer for such a good cause,” he said cheekily.

Her eyes widened and she gaped at him. She blinked several times as if she couldn’t believe the words that came out of his mouth.

Kakashi touched her cheeks, breaking her out of the stupor she was in. As he stroked her soft skin with one hand, the other pulled down his mask to reveal his face.

Y/N let out a squeak and gazed hungrily at his exposed face. Kakashi never considered what people thought of his face honestly but her reaction was gratifying.

He leaned in even closer and her eyes fluttered closed at his proximity. Knowing she was anticipating as much he was, Kakashi wasted no time in connecting their lips. She tasted heavenly and she let out a moan when he gently nipped at her bottom lip. He’s kissed plenty of willing partners, but none excited him the way she did. Her scent and the way her breath hitched when he brought her into his embrace intoxicated him further. It was obvious from the way she was responding; Y/n didn’t have a lot of experience. But he held her face gently and slowly swirled his tongue around hers, guiding her through what might be her first kiss. When she got the hang of it, Kakashi removed his hands from her face to her hips. Not wasting another moment, he gripped her ass tightly and appreciated the thickness he had been admiring for a while. She was an eager little thing and greedy. Every time they separated for a breather; she came back with more intensity than before. It’s like he awakened something, and she was willing to take whatever she could get. Unfortunately for Y/N, he didn’t just want to spend his time kissing. No, he wanted to inspire a very, very naughty section that would light the imagination of every woman in Konoha.

Kakashi pecked her pink, swollen lips one time before removing himself. She looked earnestly at him, trying to reconnect.

“How about you and I head to your room. And I could show you the benefits of a chapter on oral sex,” he huskily whispered.

Apparently, Y/N didn’t need further prompting because she dragged him into her room and swiftly closed the door.

Kakashi spent the rest of the night fulfilling his promising words. And when the second novel of Scarlet Hearts came out, chapter 13 became infamous amongst all. And all the practitioners of oral sex cursed the author because they could not live up to the fantasy that chapter inspired.

#kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n #kakashi x reader #naruto fanfiction #naruto x reader #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi imagines #kakashi hakate #naruto

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samshogwarts · 3 years

Text

My review of 2020

Or: I say thank you.

First of all, sorry for the long post 😅. You guys know I don'tike long posts without a "read more under the line". But I nade the post with my mobile phone.... Aaaaaaaanyway. Also sorry for all the tags. I hope I don't annoyed someone with it <~<. So let's continue:

I think this year has been a particularly difficult year for everyone. As 2020 is drawing to a close, I mentally let the year pass again.

The bottom line is that I have to say that 2020 was turbulent for me, but not necessarily bad. Much good, but also bad, has happened. And I want to start with the bad things right away.

At the beginning of the year, my depression and eating disorder relapsed. I've always had trouble talking about it because I know my friends can't handle this issue. I felt pressured because they wanted to do things with me, but I couldn't. So I withdrew completely, hiding my emotions and wearing a mask.

At that time I created this blog. At first I didn't want to create my own content, just follow the content of @ladycibia, @hogwartsmystory and @kyril-hphm. Incidentally, that is also the reason why I call these 3 blogs the Big Three. So it's their fault that I'm here. Lol.

And then the first Hyops message came at the end of March. A very good friend of mine got Corvid-19 and lost the battle against the disease a few days later. I still remember how the news pulled the floor from under my feet. It feels like I completely lost faith in everything and I started to realize how dangerous this year could be.

But life goes on and so I visited a friend and her family in early July. It was the anniversary of her husband's death, who was also a very good friend of mine. He died of cancer last year and I couldn't go to his funeral. So I wanted to stop by on the day he died. I actually thought I could do it. But when you read a friend's name on a tombstone for the first time.. Guys, that's a punch in the stomach like no other and I can't really describe how it feels. I had made up my mind not to cry in front of his wife or children because it was hard enough for them. Didn't work.

And of course this year meant to go one better.

Another friend of mine died of the virus in mid-August, leaving behind a wife and a child. Again, I was unable to attend the funeral. And to be honest, it still bothers me way more I want to admit. In two years I lost three wonderful people who meant a lot to me and I couldn't say goodbye to any of them. When I see the three of them again after my death, you can be sure I'll kick their butts for it.

But August was the worst month for me in many ways. In addition to the death of my buddy, my father's family also volunteered. And that means only one thing - trouble. And properly. I haven't had contact with this family for over 12 years for good reason. Now one person from this family has passed away. And first of all, I don't really care if anyone of them would die. I don't even know the person who passed away. But I wasn't told either by my grandmother or my father. So my deadline to cancel the inheritance has expired. Of course it was debts. You have to know that the inheritance rights of my country are very complicated. The reason my father or grandmother didn't tell me about it was because they didn't want to bother with the paperwork. They always had the opportunity to contact me via Facebook or my half-sister. But that would mean work for them. And while I was walking from lawyer to lawyer to court to court, I was allowed to hear sayings from my grandmother that I apparently have achieved nothing in my life. Nice to know that some people never change. I'm still struggling with this matter to this day and will probably not be able to fully clarify this until the beginning of 2021.

At the end of October everything seemed to be taking its revenge and I passed out at a friend's house. Nobody knows exactly what happened until today, but my friend took me to the hospital where I had to stay one night. That was Halloween. And I'm such a big fan of hospitals hahahaha hahahaha. After that I was allowed to wear an ECG for 2 weeks and it turned out that my heart values had deteriorated. Why not. Let's just take everything with us this year!

Rounding out the negatives this year was my (as a teenager) best friend's suicide. I have to say that I haven't had any contact with this person for 9 years. However, it is the one who cut herself in her youth and then called me afterwards because she didn't know what to do. It was also the one I tried to get into therapy for 2 years. But her mother was always against it. And it was exactly this mother who was standing in my mother's shop, telling her about her daughter's suicide and that I was probably in the farewell letter. I don't know exactly what it said, but the mother now blames me for her daughter's suicide. And do you know what's craziest about the whole thing? I agreed with her! I really thought it was my fault because I knew how sick my former friend was. Yet I was the one who ended the friendship (for many reasons that had nothing to do with her depression). And I still wonder what would have happened if I had acted differently.

But enough of the negative things! A lot of nice things happened this year too. Among other things, I have found a new job within my group, earn more money and have pleasant working hours. I've renovated my apartment and I've started saving money on a new one. My two nieces are now going to school and I am a proud aunt. My male best friend and his girlfriend (my best harry potter friend) are pregnant and are expecting their first child soon and my mother's health is better.

But one of the best things that happened to me this year is this blog.

I already mentioned that I actually only created this blog to stalk the Big Three. I didn't want my own content at all. But I discovered more and more blogs and these incredibly great MCs that I thought I wanted to do whole too. And so Samantha O'Connell was born.

I received so much great support and encouragement on this platform. I don't think many people even realize how much that means to me. Especially this year.

I have also found great and lovable people here, some of whom I also call my friends. Even if we come from other countries, speak other languages and may never see each other in real life, you are my friends and I am grateful to know you.

@annabelle-tanaka-official : I'll start with you of course! XD on tumblr you are just my best friend. I don't write as much with anyone as I do with you. You are such an incredibly talented person and so warm hearted! Over the year we have invented so many insiders that soon nobody will know what we mean. Be it the monster hug, or that my cats are your spies or our many RP scenarios, which I really enjoy and which always make me laugh. I thank you for that!! I love you so much and I am so glad that we are friends! *minster hug*

@lunasilvermorny / @lunasilvermore : you are next to you !!! XD the next person I write to almost every day. What started with a little conversation about among us has turned into a friendship. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to streaming with you next year (and this year)!!! You are such a good listener that strengthens me. Your support is so nice of you too! Just the fact that you have subscribed to my YouTube channel xD (because of the language I even have an idea). I'm looking forward to the next year with you! Thank you so much for dealing with my craziness and still likes me!

@kyril-hphm : muahahahaha. You can't escape me !!! Yes, what should I say? One of my big three even made friends with me. One of my Senpais noticed me! And then it's a lovely fluffy marshmallow! I still think it's funny that we have such similar circuits and hearts! Nevertheless you are an incredibly honest, loving and talented person. I've never told you before, but sometimes I stare (for 20 minutes +) at your drawings to improve my style (just not working so far). You are an honest person and I am happy every time we talk, or when you react to my content. I would like to say thank you for that too! You are great and you can trust yourself more.

@carewyncromwell : my Chinese fireball, my Disney princess. Yes, for me you exude the aura of a Disney princess and nothing can change my mind. So! You were one of the first friends I made here on tumblr and one of the first to write with me! I still remember how proud and nervous I was back then! Just when I was in the hospital on Halloween and couldn't sleep that night, you kept texting me and distracting me from my fear. That means a lot to me. You are such a creative and lovable person too. Ah, that's just amazing. Your comments or hashtags always make me grin or laugh. Thank you for all your support and help!

@catohphm : my fluffier Ravenclaw brother!!! Of course you can't be missing either. I also write with you almost every day and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your kind words and your support. I just love the energy between Samantha and Cato. And it's always fun to write RP with you! Thank you for being such a lovely and kind person!

@mira-shard : MIRAAAAAAA! It's kind of funny how long we've basically walked next to each other without talking to each other. And now I don't want to miss you anymore! You are such a fun and happy person. Writing with you is just fun! I also love your cosplay photos. Someday I'll come to visit you, and then we'll do cosplay shootings together until the camera bleeds! I would also like to thank you for your support and your kindness.

@sirfluffig : ha. I hope you didn't think you were escaping me! Where should I start with you? Maybe that you were one of the first to give me such lovely feedback on Samantha? Or this super funny stream and that you helped me to stream in English? Or just like that, when we talk about our MCs or pen and paper. It's definitely always fun. I want to thank you for that and I'm looking forward to playing together again soon (get Among us)

@nightrhea-hphm : * run into you in slowmotion * Night! My wonderful supportive Gremlin! I've grown very fond of them over the years. And your support and feedback are just amazing. I also love the friendship between Night and Samantha. I think it's very similar to ours, right? You are also such an incredibly creative and lovable person. You make you feel like it's ok to be who you are. Thank you!

Of course there are many, many more like @rosievixen, @wangxianforever000 , @mollydarling-hphm , @morningstarinwinter , @hogwarts9, @hphm-brooke , @raymondhope-writer , @nikyiscreepy , @immagrosscandy , @mizutoyama , @ariparri-hphm and many many more.

I want to thank you all for your encouragement, support and feedback. You are the reasons why I am adding more and more details to this blog, why I dared to start with the fan comic and many more.

It's still so amazing for me to meet so many talented, creative, kind and funny people.

This year showed me again that life isn't just black or white. Life is Grey. Good things and bad things happen. Sometimes one side more than the other side. But as long we are taking the next step, life wl continues. Just keep in mind, as like you support me, I want to support you. So if you ever wanna talk, no matter what, remember you guys can always contact me.

I'm really looking forward to next year and already have so many plans. I can not wait any longer. Enjoy the last days of the year, stay safe and most important: they the way you are guys!

Love you all so much.

#My end of the year thank you #Personal #Ooc #My year 2020 #God my heart beating so fast #Don't know why but these post makes me nervous #Very personal #Cry counter while writing this: 4 #Yeah so adult xD #Like I care #Hope you all enjoyed the Christmas holidays #Love you all #Such a great community #Never saw this before #💙❤️💚💛

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smallheathgangsters · 4 years

Text

Destiny | T.S.

A/N: I’m so sorry! It turned out waaaay too long again! But I do really hope you all enjoy it & that I didn’t waste my time on this lol. English is still not my first language, so excuse any mistakes I made. Lots of love ❤️

Request: “if requests are still open - from the prompt list - I’d LOVE 9 and / or 12 with Tommy!!!! But no worries if this doesn’t spark your fire ;) lots of love!” and “oops - meant 19 and 12 not 9 and 12!!!! But whatever floats your boat xxx” by @shelbyblinded

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 3202

Type: angst, some fluff

Summary: Tommy’s issue with commitment ruins his relationship with Y/N. Many years later, they unexpectedly run into each other, but Y/N is not ready to give him a second chance just yet.

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The wind blew through your hair while you hurried down the street towards the Shelby Company. Tommy had told you to get dressed nicely and pick him up at the shop, because he’d probably still be working. He had booked a table at a fancy restaurant and you were more than excited to be spending a long night just with Tommy.

You two had a complicated relationship. Despite not actually being a couple, you very much acted like it. Much to the annoyance of his family. They wanted Tommy to finally find himself a woman, marry her and settle down. They were convinced that that was what he needed.

You had known Tommy since you were a child. You grew up in the same street and spent a lot of your childhood time together. You had always loved Tommy. As a child you had loved him like a brother. But as you grew older, that brotherly love turned more and more into the one that made your heart ache at times, the one that was so much harder to understand.

After coming back from the war, Tommy had turned to you for comfort. You had helped him fall asleep almost every night, you had assisted him with any kind of family business if he had asked you and you even offered him your body whenever his lust was too overwhelming. Simply put, you had been there for him in any situation of his life.

But it wasn’t at all that you had disliked it. Clearly, Tommy was the love of your life. Even though he had never made you his girlfriend, it sparked joy in your heart knowing Tommy was letting you be there for him, letting you care for him. Because Tommy was not a man to show his feelings, let alone asking somebody for help when the thoughts in his head were too much for him to handle. But he did when it came to you. He talked openly about what was going on in his mind whenever you were lying next to him in bed, caressing his back, trying your best to silence the sounds of the picks and shovels against the wall.

In return, Tommy had bought you gifts that had costed more than you could imagine and took you on lavish dates in expensive restaurants or to the races. Or he would take you to the country to teach you how to drive a car. That was his way of saying thank you.

But you had to admit to yourself, the complicated relationship had taken a toll on you for a few months now. You had thought about confronting him about it several times, though you were too afraid of losing the strong bond you two had. It was something you held dear.

Your slender hand pushed open the door to the Shelby Company. You stepped inside and were greeted with silence. The rest of the boys must have already finished up work and left. You walked over to Tommy’s office and knocked on the closed door. Without waiting for him to answer, you pushed it open.

Your eyes landed on Tommy, leaning over a pile of papers, looking rather frustrated. “Busy day?” you asked softly. His head shot up. You immediately saw the tension in his face relax and he leaned back in his chair. “Y/N …” he murmured contently. It made your heart skip a beat, knowing you had such a positive effect on the broken man.

“How do I look?” you asked him happily, spinning around on the spot, your dress twirling as you did.

“Absolutely wonderful,” he answered, giving you a kind smile. Then he got up from his chair and walked over to the hanger to grab his coat. “Are we ready then?”

You wanted to nod but something made you pause. A strong wave of emotions suddenly hit you and you could feel your mind go hazy. All of a sudden, you heard yourself ask him, “Tommy … what are we?”

Tommy stopped in his tracks, slowly lowering his hand that was about to grab his coat. You gulped hard, trying to understand what made you blurt out that question. You knew he didn’t want to be confronted with the complexity of your relationship and you also knew Tommy would never be ready to commit to you.

He avoided your gaze and didn’t answer your question, making you feel awfully uncomfortable. The silence made you want to turn around and make a run for it.

You looked down at your hands, fumbling with them and trying your best to ignore the blood rushing to your ears. How could you have been so stupid?

“What?” you heard him say.

“I–“ you tried finding the words to save yourself from the mess you had just brought upon yourself. “I– I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to–“

“Yes, you did,” he interrupted you sternly. His back was still facing you.

You could feel your hands getting sweaty. “It’s just been going on for so long …” you said quietly.

“And?” he huffed. The cold tone in his voice made the hair on your skin stand up. Even though you knew his reaction would be negative, if you ever asked him about the situation, you were shocked it was this intense. In a bad way.

You took in a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You hated when Tommy made you feel insecure, made you feel like a fool. You may be in love, but you weren’t foolish.

“I want to know what this is, this … thing between us,” you said to him, your voice now stronger than before, regaining your confidence. Then you lifted your gaze from your hands and stared at the back of his head. “And I would prefer it, if you didn’t look away from me.”

You heard him let out an annoyed sigh. He turned around to you and pushed his hands in his pockets. “Why are you asking me this now? You never cared.” He sounded bored.

You frowned at him. “How would you know that?”

“You never mentioned it. And this thing between us has been this way for years. I don’t like you accusing me of not being concerned about what you care about,” he answered.

His remark made anger flare up in your chest. “Maybe I was scared? Scared that you’d react exactly as you do now?”

“Are you telling me you’re scared of me?” he growled. “What have I ever done to make you scared of me?”

“It’s not about you scaring me! It’s being scared of losing you!” you yelled, hot tears burning in your eyes. Why didn’t he get it?

He sighed again, running his hand over his face, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “Why couldn’t you just accept what we had?”

“Because I’m not a child anymore, Tommy,” you said, clenching your fists. You were trying your hardest to not go totally ballistic.

“What are you expecting of me? Asking you to marry me? Is that what you want, eh?” he spat. You never thought he would mock your dream of getting married, settling down and starting a family someday.

“How dare you!” You pushed out, stunned.

He brushed through his hair with his hand. Then he locked his eyes with yours. “Y/N. I can’t give you what you want.”

“You don’t even know what I want!” you exclaimed frustrated.

He sighed again and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” He stuck the cigarette between his lips.

You were speechless. You stared at him while your head was spinning. Your mind tried grasping the right words to say, but there was nothing. There was absolutely nothing left for you to say to him.

You straightened yourself up, wrapped your coat around your body tightly and nodded. “Fuck you”, was the last thing you were able to bring over your lips. After that, you rushed out of the shop without looking back. You knew, this was the last time you would ever step a foot into that house. And it would also be the last time you saw Tommy Shelby.

***

“Are you ready, darling?” your husband asked from the other room.

“Almost!” you shouted back, putting on some red lipstick. Then you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You heard your husband step into your shared bedroom. “You look amazing.”

You whipped our head around and gave him a kind smile. “So do you.”

His tie matched your red dress and made you the two of you suit each other perfectly. But you didn’t only match on the outside. You were meant to be together and you could feel it in your heart every day you woke up next to him.

You and Edward had married a few months ago after meeting on a trip you took to London. Shortly after, you left Birmingham to join him. It had been the most perfect coincidence. Since breaking it off with Tommy, the city had been nothing but a burden. You weren’t able to find true happiness after everything that had happened, and the way Tommy had treated you. But Ed had helped you with that and you soon found yourself falling madly in love with him.

It wasn’t the kind of love to distract yourself from Tommy or forget him. You genuinely adored Ed and the way he treated you. And there was no reason left for you to mourn the love you lost.

Ed was a middle-class man with a simple job, who didn’t have much to offer when you first met. Still, he made sure he took you out once a week to a nice restaurant or the pictures. Sometimes, he even saved up his money for you to experience an opera together. He was the kindest, most heartfelt man you had ever run into.

Two weeks ago, you had found out you were pregnant with your first child and Edward was so excited about the news, that he wanted to celebrate by surprising you with a very special date. Yesterday, he had let it slip that he was taking you to the races. You tried hiding the fact that you’ve already been to quite some races before meeting him, but he noticed. You had brushed it off as an old romance you once had, not wanting to talk to Ed about Tommy. Not wanting to talk or think about him in general. It was in the past and it was meant to stay there.

Ed realized that you didn’t want to talk about it and stopped asking about the man who had taken you to more than just one race. “Please don’t worry, Ed. I’m just as excited to go as I was the first time,” you promised him, “Because I’m going there with you.”

He had smiled and cupped your face in his hands, giving you a long kiss. After the kiss, you put your arm around his. “Let’s go to the races.”

It was very busy that day. The dancefloor was crowded and even getting to the bar to order a drink was a rather difficult task. Ed offered to try to push through the people and get you both a glass of champagne, making you wait at the side of the large room. While you were scanning the faces, you suddenly felt somebody stand next to you.

“Didn’t expect to ever see you here.”

Your heart stopped for a moment when you realized to whom the deep, monotone voice belonged.

“Tommy,” you gasped and looked up to the handsome face gazing into the crowd. His eyes were as blue and intense as you remembered them.

“Who are you here with?” he asked you. He sounded legitimately interested.

“My husband.”

He nodded, not once looking down at you. “So, you’re married now?”

“Yes.”

Despite not having seen Tommy for a long time, you still knew him too well. You could feel him trying to make you nervous. But you were determined not to let him. He didn’t own you anymore. And he for sure didn’t own your heart anymore.

“Do you love him?”, he asked, putting a cigarette between his lips and lighting it with a match.

You gave him angry look. “Of course, I do!”

That made him finally pull away his gaze from the crowd and directed it to you. “I mean, do you actually like him. And not just trying to prove a point to me.”

You were genuinely offended by his comment. “Trying to prove a point? You really do believe the world revolves solely around you, Thomas Shelby.”

“I didn’t–“

“You’ve had your chance, Tommy. You can’t just come crawling back, trying to make me feel bad about finally having the man and the life I deserve,” you spat. Tommy opened his mouth to respond to what you just said, but your husband interrupted the conversation before he was able to say another word.

Ed wasn’t stupid. He noticed immediately that this must be the man that had broken your heart.

“How about we catch some fresh air, love?” he suggested, handing you a glass of champagne. You accepted gratefully and let your husband lead the way out of the room, leaving a speechless Tommy behind.

***

Edward had been offered a job in New York. He had wanted you to join him and to move to America together, but you knew you’d never be happy there. You had had a stable job here in London and weren’t ready to give up what you had worked for so hard. You both knew a divorce was inevitable if Ed really wanted to accept the job offer.

In the end, your now ex-husband left to cross the ocean to the land of the free and leave you and your son, James, behind. You weren’t angry at him. You knew, he had only been following his dream and the opportunity had just been too good to reject. Edward made sure he sent money to you monthly to care for the upbringing of your son and even visited the two of you twice a year.

About six months after Edward had left, you had opened your own clothing store in London, sewing luxurious dresses that started becoming more and more popular. Even though you missed Ed dearly from time to time, you weren’t unhappy. The situation you were in wasn’t the best, but it for sure could have been way worse.

One day, after closing up your shop to go and pick up James from school, you spotted a familiar figure across the street. He was staring directly at you.

Then it hit you. Tommy fucking Shelby. You had almost forgotten the man existed.

You wanted nothing more than to ignore his presence and walk straight to James’ school. But of course, he had other things in mind.

“Y/N!”

You kept your head down as you stuffed your keys in your handbag. Tommy Shelby was like a curse, you seemed to never be totally free of him.

As you turned to walk along the side of the road, you heard him catch up with you. “Oi, Y/N. Are you ignoring me?”

You stopped walking, but kept your head hanging, so you didn’t have to look at him. “Thomas …”

You could see his shoes position themselves in front of you. Then you felt a hand grab your chin gently, lifting your head up. “Please, look at me.”

His gaze was friendly. Very much different to the look he had in his eyes when he first told you he didn’t want you. And very much different to the one when you met him at the races. It almost seemed like there was a plea for forgiveness in his eyes.

“It hurts me that you feel like you need to avoid me,” he admitted. You sighed. “What are you doing here, Tommy?”

“Does it matter?”

“It matters because I seem to never be able to get rid of you. You keep showing up in my life”, you answered truthfully.

“Destiny, perhaps,” he said, giving you a weak smile.

You scoffed. “I didn’t think you believed in such a thing, Thomas.”

“Only when it comes to you, Y/N.”

You breathed in deeply and let out a heavy sigh. “Are you still not married? It’s been so long, and I don’t think anyone should be on their own for so many years.”

“I was,” he said. “But she died.”

You felt a tiny sting in your chest, feeling bad for asking. Even though Tommy Shelby didn’t deserve an inch of your sympathy, you couldn’t ignore it. “I’m sorry.”

“How’s Edward? That’s his name, eh?” Tommy asked, changing the subject quickly.

You gulped. You didn’t want Tommy knowing about your failed marriage. You were convinced he would mock you because of it.

“Good,” you answered quietly.

“You sure?” Tommy questioned you. He could sense something was off.

You pressed your lips together to a thin line, debating whether you should tell him or not.

“Come on, you can trust me,” he said with a soft voice. You could feel yourself crumbling. “He’s living in New York. We … we aren’t together anymore,” you told him embarrassed. Tommy nodded but instead of making fun of you, he stayed silent.

“I’m on my way to pick up my son from school”, you then said to Tommy. “I really need to get going, if you didn’t mind.”

“Your son?”

“Yes, my son,” you said, giving him an annoyed glare. “I’m not some lonely divorcee if that was what you were thinking.”

He held up his hands in defence and raised his eyebrows. “Not at all. I have a son of my own, you know.”

You weren’t able to wrap your head around the fact that Tommy had a child. Even though he’d always been a family man, you could never imagine him with a son. Taking care of him, playing with him, simply being a soft human being. You didn’t realise you were smiling at the thought of it until Tommy called you out on it. “Something funny about that?”

“No”, you said, grinning, “Absolutely not. I’m very happy about that actually.”

“You’d love him,” Tommy said to you. “Maybe someday you’ll meet him.”

“Perhaps someday,” you replied.

Tommy sighed and then suddenly grabbed both of your hands. “We were good together, Y/N.”

“I know, Tommy”, you said, only speaking the truth. The time you and Tommy were together, or at least almost together, you were more than good. You were perfect. Until Tommy had took a step backward when you wanted to take one forward.

“We could always try again”, Tommy murmured, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Yes, we could.”

“How about a date?” Tommy asked. “I heard you’re designing stunning dresses for a living. Why not put on one of those?”

“You heard?”

Tommy chuckled. “I hear everything, Y/N. So, what do you say?”

You could feel your face form a smile. A smile straight from your heart. The heart, that had never really gotten over Tommy. The heart, that had always belonged to him.

“Okay.”

537 notes · View notes

queenmylovely · 4 years

Text

High Infidelity III

Summary: Ben hardy x fem!reader. A fancy event with Ben leads to unforeseen cirumstances

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: cussing, Angst...

A/N: Here it is y’all, the final part of HI, this fic has really challenged me since I’m not used to writing angst and I had to have a completely different relationship with reader to write it. Since this was part of my 800 celebration, I do want to thank everyone who follows me for supporting me and especially for all the feedback I have received on this series 💖 and with this part especially please leave any feedback you have in the form of tags, replies, asks, or messages, because I really do love hearing from you!

Part I, Part II, Masterlist; BLM Resources, Register to Vote (U.S.)

(gorgeous Benny in a gif by @arthursleclerc)

💖💖💖

As the weeks went by, everything in your relationship with Ben evened out. It was like the big fight and any resulting complications had never happened. Except for the fact that the two of you were trying to be better with communication and understanding, which was great and really rewarding.

So when Ben came to you with the news that he had been invited to some fancy gala, you couldn’t have been happier to go.

“Who’ll be there? Am I going to meet any fancy celebrities?” you asked excitedly.

“You already know a fancy celebrity, you sleep next to him every night,” Ben replied, looking at you with mock hurt.

“Yeah, of course, of course. I meant any new fancy celebrities?” you changed, still wanting to hear the answer.

“Hmmm I’m not actually totally sure, but if there are a lot there, you’re probably going to have to introduce yourself because I don’t know them either,” Ben said teasingly. Then he got another look on his face, “I do think Lucy, Rami, and Gwil are going to be there though.”

You could tell Ben was nervous because him spending a lot of time with them had been part of your last fight, so you reassured him, “Don’t worry, Ben. We can definitely spend most of the time with them. I’ve been wanting to catch up with Lucy.”

“I promise not to let Gwil drag me away from you for any reason, which will be easier since Joe won’t be helping him,” Ben told you and you smiled good-naturedly, leaning in for a kiss when he did.

___

The week leading up to the event was filled with lots of trips to different stores, trying to find a suitable dress for the event. You sent pictures of options to Lucy since she had a lot of experience with such things. Finally you found one two days before the event, and luckily it didn’t need any tailoring other than wearing high heels so it wouldn’t drag. It was a black silk floor length dress that had a gathered waist and spaghetti straps that led to a neckline that was low but not too revealing where you would feel like you were on display. Once it was paired with a pair of heels you already had and some jewelry Lucy was loaning you, you knew it would be perfect.

The only thing you were unsure of was your hair. You knew how to style it in about three different ways, curled, bun, and ponytail, and none of them seemed right for the event. Looking on pinterest, you found a couple “easy” hair tutorials, but when you tried one a couple days before, you couldn’t get the right result and got increasingly frustrated.

“Ugh I just can’t get it to work,” you said in exasperation.

Ben came up behind you and rested his hands on your shoulders, “Can’t get what to work?”

“My hair,” you whined, leaning your head back to rest on his stomach. “I’ve tried like five times but it just doesn’t work.”

“Why don’t you just go and get it done, or we can have someone come here,” Ben suggested easily.

“Doesn’t that seem a little frivolous?” you asked, not used to having other people do stuff like that for you.

“The whole event is frivolous, and you should feel as confident and comfortable as possible at the event. I know that they can be intimidating so if that would help, I think you should definitely do it,” Ben reasoned, looking at you through the mirror and you couldn’t help but smile at his words.

“I love you so much,” you said to him, tilting your head back even further. Ben got the hint and leaned down to kiss you, both of you laughing at the upside-down kiss.

___

The day of the event started with a small sleep in, but just until 9:00am. The two of you had breakfast and then started getting ready at 10:00am so that you wouldn’t have to rush and could relax throughout the whole day.

Sharing a shower and helping each other wash your hair and bodies eventually turned into something else, which only further helped with the relaxing.

After the shower, you put moisturizing face masks on both you and Ben and leave-in conditioner in your hair. While you were letting the masks do their work, you started on lunch together, later taking them off to eat.

You started your makeup soon after, Ben watching you in fascination and keeping you entertained with questions. When the hairdresser arrived, they got your hair in curlers and then did Ben’s quickly. Watching them work so quickly and easily convinced you that Ben had made the right choice by hiring them.

Once your hair was done and you both got dressed, it was time to go. A town car was taking you and the two of you talked excitedly about the night.

As soon as you arrived and got out of the car, there was event staff welcoming you and guiding you to the carpet where all of the photographers and reporters were. Ben asked if you wanted to be in any pictures, but you declined, more comfortable to walk around back and watch him interact with the photographers and do one or two question interviews. It was nice to see Ben having fun and laughing and you could tell that he was really enjoying himself and getting into his element.

While you were watching, you felt someone come up next to you and turned to give them a smile but what you saw made your spine run cold. It was the guy, the one that you had slept with, the one that you hadn’t given another thought to since a week after the incident.

“Hey, y/n,” he said with a knowing look. You looked closer and saw that he had a recorder in one hand and was wearing a press badge and realized he must’ve been a reporter for a smaller site or magazine. Reading the press badge, you finally got his name, Jake, though it really didn’t matter now.

When you didn’t say anything and just looked at him in shock, he continued, “Still got that boyfriend, I assume?”

To that, you nodded and he laughed wryly.

“‘Course you do. Well, next time you decide to cheat with someone, let them know that’s what they’re doing first so they can make an informed decision,” he told you derisively.

“I’m not going to--” you tried to reply, but he was already walking away. You took a deep breath to calm yourself and fixed your face as well as you could then turned back to watch Ben. You were just in time to see him find you in the crowd and then wave you over because he was done.

The two of you walked into the main event area. While you were grabbing drinks, you ran into Rami who said that Lucy and Gwil were already at a table and there were two spots saved for you.

The following hours of the event passed exactly as they were supposed to, and you breathed a sigh of relief when you reminded yourself that the press usually didn’t actually attend the event so Jake must be gone.

Once the formal activities were done, everyone was free to roam around, and there was a band that was playing music in the background, with the option of a dance floor for those who wanted.

You were having a good time with Ben and his friends, probably the best time you had ever had with them because for the first time you didn’t feel like an outsider. You thought that Ben had probably asked them to include you a little more. Part of you was a little embarrassed that they might think you were being childish, but a larger part of you was glad because you could see your friendship with all of them growing.

Gwil saw someone he knew and went to ask her to dance and Lucy and Rami decided they wanted to do the same. You suggested dancing as well, but Ben, who was not the world’s greatest dancer, said he wanted to have another drink first. Agreeing to wait at one of the high tables by the dance floor, Ben went off to the bar to get the refills.

As he was waiting for the drinks to be made, Ben watched you swaying to the music and looking at the dancers with a small smile on your face. The sight made him smile and he was content to keep watching while he waited but someone said something to him from his left.

“She’s quite the looker, huh?” the guy said and Ben noticed his press badge and name, realizing that he had met him at a couple other events.

Because he knew him, Ben thought it would be weird not to reply. So he made a face but replied, “Yeah she is.”

“She’s got a boyfriend though, or something,” Jake told him matter-of-factly.

“Yeah I--” Ben was about to say that he was actually your boyfriend but Jake cut him off.

“Wish I'd known earlier. She waited until after we hooked up to tell me. Now I just feel bad for the bloke that’s stuck with her. Thought I’d let you know so you don’t end up in the same situation,” Jake said shaking his head.

Ben hid the tsunami of dread and rage he felt upon hearing this near-stranger’s words and instead asked, “Oh that sucks, when did that happen?”

“Just a couple months ago, sucked finding out. Anyway, better take these drinks back. See you later man,” Jake clapped Ben on the shoulder and walked away.

Back by the dance floor, you were wondering what was taking so long and looked over to the bar to see Ben receiving the drinks. You smiled, ready for him to look your way and walk over with the drinks. But instead, he started walking to the exit, shooting one angry glance over his shoulder to where you were.

Confused, you were stuck in place for a moment before you started to follow him. You hurried to catch him, calling his name a couple times once you got past the bulk of the crowd. But he didn’t turn back and he’s too fast and you’re in heels. He rounded the corner to the exit and by the time you got through the doors, all you saw was a group of cars, ready to drive the guests home or wherever they were going.

Movement caught your eye as you kept walking towards the line of cars and you saw the door of a car close and then start to drive away, a frowning Ben barely visible through the back window.

Immediately, you tried to call him but he hung up on the second ring. You sent him a text asking if he’s okay and where he’s going but he didn’t even look at it which you could tell because he always has his read receipts on.

You had been moving too fast to think, but now your stomach dropped and you flagged down a car, texting Lucy to tell her you’re heading home as you slid in and told the driver the address. On the way, you tried not to panic because there were a thousand possibilities for why Ben had left. Left looking angry, without telling you, ignoring you calling his name, and not answering your calls or texts. Left from an event where you had run into Jake just hours ago. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You got home and unlocked the door, opening it slowly, not prepared for what was about to happen. Closing it behind you quietly and walking through the apartment, you could feel adrenaline rushing through your body, making it hard to breathe. You didn't find Ben until you reached your bedroom. He was on the balcony, staring over the edge and though he’s standing in place, his leg shaked.

“Ben?” he refused to look at you. You made the split decision to play innocent. “Ben what’s wrong?”

“I talked to Jake,” he said in a low voice, still staring out into the night air.

“Jake? What do you--?”

“I swear y/n, if any sort of lie comes out of your mouth that’s it. I deserve the truth and for you to respect me enough to tell me the truth,” Ben said harshly and your breath got shaky.

You rushed out, “I respect you Ben, I do.”

“How am I supposed to believe that when you fucking cheated on me?” this was when Ben turned to look at you and the mix of anger, betrayal, and despair in his eyes was enough to bring tears to yours.

“I’m sorry, I--” your voice cracked as you looked at him.

“How could you do that?” he asked loudly and you could hear the hurt in his voice.

The intensity of his searching gaze was too much to bear and you looked away as you answered, “I don’t know, you were away and I missed you and we were fighting. It felt like you were never coming back and I didn’t know what was going on with us.”

“If you weren’t sure, you should have asked. Talked to me. Not ignored all of my phone calls when I was trying to reach out to you,” Ben implored, sounding almost confused because he couldn't understand. “When was it?”

You thought about what would be the best answer. Would it make him feel better to know that it was deep into your fight or would it be worse that it was just days before he got home?

“The Friday before you came home,” you said solemnly, still not able to look at him.

Ben let out a big exhale but you couldn’t tell what he was feeling. He brought his hand to his brow like he was trying hard to remember something.

“Okay, so you weren’t just sitting at home watching tv,” he commented like he was piecing together something.

“I did do that for part of the night,” you defended, looking up to see his reaction.

“That’s not the point and you know it,” he snapped. Another moment of concentrating passed and his tone changed, “Fuck, that bruise on your hip, was that from him?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly.

Ben looked worried now, “Did he hurt you?”

Probably the worst part of yourself wanted to say yes, to run into his comforting arms and use the fact that it had gotten a little rough to serve as an excuse. But that wasn’t the truth, and it would be unforgivable to Ben and ultimately yourself to lie about something so important.

“No, well, not in any way I wasn’t okay with,” you explained, trying not to say too much.

“Wait-- you wanted him to do that? You like stuff like that?” Ben’s tone wasn’t accusing, just questioning. When you just looked away again, he knew the answer. He scoffed, “I thought we were trying to be better with communication! We’ve been together three years, why wouldn’t you tell me that? Dammit am I just not worth the truth to you?”

“Of course you are, I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. Maybe I was worried that you’d judge me or--”

“Three years, three years, y/n! I would never write you off for something like that. But I guess if you can’t even tell me about stuff like that, stuff that I could do for you, it makes sense why you didn’t tell me you cheated. You just don’t trust me,” Ben sounded defeated.

“No, I do trust you, I just didn’t tell you because it was never going to happen again, I didn’t want it to. It was a mistake, it didn’t mean anything. All telling you would have done was hurt you, just like it is now. I was trying to make it up to you without ever hurting you with what happened,” you rationalized, chancing a look at his face. He looked disoriented; your words made him feel lost.

“I don’t believe that. The truth is always better than a lie to me, I thought you knew that, I thought you knew me. And if you felt okay lying about it, I don’t think it’s a big step for it to happen again,” Ben ran his hands over his face and his voice was quiet now, like he was slowly accepting what had happened and what he had to do. The thought of that made you panic.

“No, no Ben, I love you and only you and you’re the only person I want to love. I promise, I promise, I promise, I love you and--and it will never happen again,” you tried to reach for Ben’s arms, but he just walked past you.

“I don’t think I can trust a word you say anymore,” he said softly, looking at his hands.

“No, Ben, Ben, I can be honest, I promise. I won’t ever lie to you again, I won’t. Please, please look at me. Look-- look at me, please, Ben I-” you were rambling now, but you would have said anything for him to turn around and take you in his arms.

Ben did turn but now his face was stone, “I’m gonna go. I’ll pack a bag for now and come back tomorrow for the rest of my stuff.”

He moved to the closet for a bag and you just stood still, frozen because you couldn’t process what was happening. Then there were tears running down your face and feeling them hit your crossed arms that were hugging your middle is what made you move again.

“No, no, Ben we can’t be over, you can’t leave. We can work on this, I’ll change. I’ll tell the truth, I promise I’ll never cheat, I never will. Please Ben, please I’ll do anything,” you knew you sounded desperate, but that was because you were, you couldn’t lose Ben after all you had done to keep him.

Ben was done packing the bag so he paused and looked at you. There was just one sliver of hope in his eye. “Was it here?”

You knew you could only answer honestly. “Yes,” then the light in his eyes was gone as he thought back to the week following his return. All of the stilted answers you had given him but he had accepted as just a little awkwardness after the fight made sense now; he knew why the sheets were gone and most likely where the lighter had come from.

“I can’t look at you, I can’t be here, without thinking about it,” he said simply. And somewhere inside you knew that was it, but the rest of you refused to accept it. “I’ll never be able to look at our bed without thinking that someone else was in it with you. I won’t be able to touch you without wondering if that’s how he touched you too. All I can think about is that I can’t understand how you would risk everything, risk our love, us, our future, compromise our home for what you say is meaningless sex. Cause to me, our love was worth everything.”

With that, Ben walked out of the bedroom. You followed him, trying to grab his arm, saying his name over and over, anything to stop him. He didn’t slow down, didn’t look back, until he got to the door and pulled it open. Even as your mind didn’t realize, your body knew he was done and your arms went slack, dropping from his. When he looked at you one last time, the anger and hurt was no longer at the forefront. What you saw in his face as he looked at you now was pity and that made you want to retch because it was so far from the love he used to look at you with.

“Goodbye, y/n, I truly do want the best for you in life,” Ben said, touching your hand softly and slowly, almost as if he was remembering all the previous times he had, briefly remembering when you loved each other with no question. Then he turned around, walked down the hallway, and out of your sight.

Holding your hand with the other, you tried to retain the feeling of his touch as long as you could. You closed the door with your shoulder and then collapsed against it, sliding until you sat. The floor no doubt dirtied your designer dress, but you couldn’t focus on anything as sobs started to wrack your body, and you didn’t even notice as your tears stained the silk.

💖💖💖

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Series taglist: @theonsasheart @itscale

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#...aaaaahhhhh #I hope it fucking works I spent hourssss I swear our power went out I’m typing these tags on the desktop version on my phone ahhhhh #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #ben hardy #ben jones #fic #series #angst #high infidelity #ben hardy x reader #ben jones x reader #bohemian rhapsody x reader #borhap x reader #borhap boys #borhap cast

27 notes · View notes

bobasheebaby · 4 years

Text

200 Harry Potter Prompts

Let me preface with this: I love the Harry Potter series, both the books and the movies and have shared both with my son; HOWEVER I don’t support the things that JK Rowling has been saying recently. I refuse to let her transphobia destroy something I love so I propose we take back these quotes from the characters we love and make as many of them as gay as we possibly can. Fuck you JK

1 “Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!” —Albus Dumbledore

2 “No post on Sundays.” —Vernon Dursley

3 “You’re a little scary sometimes, you know that? Brilliant … but scary.” —Ron Weasley

4 “It does not do well to dwell on dreams and forget to live.” —Albus Dumbledore

5 “Honestly, don’t you two read?” —Hermione Granger

6 “Why couldn’t it be ‘follow the butterflies’?” —Ron Weasley

7 “Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can’t see where it keeps its brain.” —Arthur Weasley

8 “It is our choices, NAME, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.” —Albus Dumbledore

9 “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” —Harry Potter

10 “Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.” —Albus Dumbledore

11 “I don’t go looking for trouble, trouble usually finds me.” —Harry Potter

12 “The ones that love us never really leave us.” —Sirius Black

13 “What’s comin’ will come, an’ we’ll meet it when it does.” —Rubeus Hagrid

14 “Soon we must all face the choice between what is right and what is easy.” —Albus Dumbledore

15 “I am what I am, an’ I’m not ashamed.” —Rubeus Hagrid

16 “It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be.” —Albus Dumbledore

17 “Twitchy little ferret, aren’t you, NAME?” —Hermione Granger

18 “You’re just as sane as I am.” —Luna Lovegood

19 “I mean, it’s sort of exciting, isn’t it, breaking the rules?” —Hermione Granger

20 “Give him/her hell from us, NAME.” —Fred and George Weasley

21 “We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on.” —Sirius Black

22 “Just because you have the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn’t mean we all have.” —Hermione Granger

23 “Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect.” —Luna Lovegood

24 “Let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure.” —Albus Dumbledore

25 “Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure.” —Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem

26 “Every human life is worth the same, and worth saving.” —Kingsley Shacklebolt

27 “It is the quality of one’s convictions that determines success, not the number of followers.” —Remus Lupin

28 “Not my son/daughter, you bitch!” —Molly Weasley

29 “You’ll stay with me?” “Until the very end.” —Harry and James Potter

30 “Of course it’s happening inside your head, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?” —Albus Dumbledore

31 “To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.” —Albus Dumbledore

32 “Time will not slow down when something unpleasant lies ahead." — Harry Potter

33 “If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals." — Sirius Black

34 “It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends." — Albus Dumbledore

35 “It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more." — Albus Dumbledore

36 “You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don’t recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble?" — Albus Dumbledore

37 “Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it.” — Albus Dumbledore

38 “The truth. It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution.'" — Albus Dumbledore

39 “Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself." — Hermione Granger

40 “I’ll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I’m not there." — Harry Potter

41 “When in doubt, go to the library." — Ron Weasley

42 “Honestly, if you were any slower, you’d be going backward." — Draco Malfoy

43 “Mischief Managed!" — Harry Potter

44 “We are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided." — Albus Dumbledore

45 “Your devotion is nothing more than cowardice. You would not be here if you had anywhere else to go." — Voldemort

46 “Curiosity is not a sin…. But we should exercise caution with our curiosity… yes, indeed." — Albus Dumbledore

47 “Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open." — Albus Dumbledore

48 “The thing about growing up with NAME (and NAME) is that you sort of start thinking anything's possible if you've got enough nerve.'" — Ginny Weasley

49 “Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike." — Albus Dumbledore

50 “NAME says people find it far easier to forgive others for being wrong than being right." — Hermione Granger

51 “Once again, you show all the sensitivity of a blunt axe." — Nearly Headless Nick

52 “Age is foolish and forgetful when it underestimates youth." — Albus Dumbledore

53 “No, NAME, you listen,” (pause) “We're coming with you. That was decided months ago — years, really.'" —Hermione Granger

54 “Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury, and remedying it." ― Albus Dumbledore

55 “Do not pity the dead, NAME. Pity the living, and, above all those who live without love. “-– Albus Dumbledore

56 “Anything’s possible if you’ve got enough nerve.” – Ginny Weasley

57 “For in dreams we enter a world that is entirely our own.” – Albus Dumbledore

58 “We’re all going to keep fighting, NAME. You know that?” – Neville Longbottom

59 “I am not worried, NAME … I am with you.” – Albus Dumbledore

60 “Celebrity is as celebrity does, remember that.” – Gilderoy Lockhart

61 “Parents shouldn’t leave their kids unless —unless they’ve got to.” – Harry Potter

62 “Greatness inspires envy, envy engenders spite, spite spawns lies.” – Lord Voldemort

63 “Killing is not so easy as the innocent believe.” – Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

64 “What's life without a little risk?" — Sirius Black

65 “There were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless — carried away with our own cleverness.” – Remus Lupin

66 “You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.” – Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

67 “You will also find that help will always be given at PLACE to those who ask for it.” – Albus Dumbledore

68 “I mean, you could claim that anything’s real if the only basis for believing in it is that nobody’s proved it doesn’t exist!” – Hermione Granger

69 “To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever." — Albus Dumbledore

70 “Though we may come from different places, and speak in different tongues, our hearts beat as one." — Albus Dumbledore

71 “Always.” — Severus Snape

72 “Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.” — Albus Dumbledore

73 “It is important to fight and fight again, and keep fighting, for only then can evil be kept at bay though never quite eradicated.” — Albus Dumbledore

74 “Dark times lie ahead of us and there will be a time when we must choose between what is easy and what is right.�� — Albus Dumbledore

75 “Time is making us fools again." — Albus Dumbledore

76 “I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind.” — Albus Dumbledore

77 “The consequences of our actions are always so complicated, so diverse, that predicting the future is a very difficult business indeed.” — Albus Dumbledore

78 “I just feel so ... angry, all the time., and what if after everything I've been through, something's gone wrong inside me. What if I'm becoming bad?" — Harry Potter

79 “Tut, tut — fame clearly isn’t everything.” — Severus Snape

80 “Well, it may have escaped your notice, but life isn’t fair.” — Severus Snape

81 “Ah, yes,” he/she said softly, “NAME. Our new — celebrity.” — Severus Snape

82 ““I wish … I wish I were dead …” “And what use would that be to anyone?” — Severus Snape & Albus Dumbledore

83 “You don’t want me as your enemy, NAME.” — Severus Snape

84 “DON’T . . . CALL ME COWARD!” — Severus Snape

85 “Look . . . at . . . me . . . “ — Severus Snape

86 “Then you should have died! Died, rather than betray your friends, as we would have done for you." — Sirius Black

87 “NAME was a brave, clever, and energetic man/woman, and such men/women are not usually content to sit at home in hiding while they believe others to be in danger." — Albus Dumbledore

88 “Like the fact that the person NAME cared for the most about in the world was you.” — Albus Dumbledore

89 “You don’t understand — there are things worth dying for!” — Sirius Black

90 “Well, [bad] times like that bring out the best in some people and the worst in others.” — Sirius Black

91 “Oh, I’ve interrupted a deep thought, haven’t I? I can see it growing smaller in your eyes.” — Luna Lovegood

92 “I sleepwalk, you see. That’s why I wear shoes to bed.” — Luna Lovegood

93 “He/She doesn’t think you treated him:her very well, because you wouldn’t dance with him/her. I don’t think I’d have minded. I don’t like dancing very much.” — Luna Lovegood

94 “Come, daddy, NAME doesn't want to talk to us right now. He's/She’s just too polite to say it.” ~Luna Lovegood

95 “Being different isn't a bad thing. It means you're brave enough to be yourself.” - Luna Lovegood

96 “NAME, if brains were gold, you'd be poorer than NAME, and that's saying something.” — Draco Malfoy

97 “You foul, lying, evil little cockroach!” — Hermione Granger

98 “Oh, it was NAME, I was thinking about him and I lost track of things.” — Hermione Granger

99 “One person can’t feel all that at once, they’d explode.” — Hermione Granger

100 “It would be quite nice if you stopped jumping down our throats, NAME, because in case you haven’t noticed, NAME and I are on your side.” — Hermione Granger

101 “Next time there’s a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!” — Hermione Granger

102 “Very well spotted.” — Hermione Granger

103 “Always the tone of surprise.” — Hermione Granger

104 “Sometimes friendship means not having to say anything. Thank yous and apologies can sometimes get lost, but that doesn’t mean they’re unexpressed.” — Hermione Granger

105 “You’d think a bit of kissing would cheer him/her up.” — Ron Weasley

106 “And that's the second time we've saved your life tonight, you two-faced bastard!” — Ron Weasley

107 “I knew NAME was lying about that tattoo.” — Ron Weasley

108 “There's a time and a place for getting a smart mouth.” — Ron Weasley

109 “Oh, yeah, I borrowed it for a bit of bedtime reading.” — Ron Weasley

110 “What are you doing with all those books anyway?” — Ron Weasley

111 “Hang on a moment!” (said sharply) “We’ve forgotten someone!” — Ron Weasley

112 “I never really gave up on you. Not really." — Ginny Weasley

113 “It's okay NAME, it's alright. It doesn't matter." — Ginny Weasley

114 “People think they know all there is to know about you, but the best bits of you are ... heroic in really quiet ways." — Ginny Weasley

115 “Excuse me, but I care what happens to NAME as much as you do!” — Ginny Weasley

116 “Yeah, NAME, because you’re so talented ... at posing ...” — Ginny Weasley

117 “Forgot to brake, NAME, sorry.” — Ginny Weasley

118 “It’s for some stupid, noble reason, isn’t it?” — Ginny Weasley

119 “I never really gave up on you. Not really. I always hoped ... NAME told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember? And he/she thought you might take a bit more notice if I was a bit more — myself.” — Ginny Weasley

120 “There’s the silver lining I’ve been looking for.” — Ginny Weasley

121 “A good first impression can work wonders.” — Molly Weasley

122 “Beds empty! No note! Car gone-could have crashed-out of my mind with worry-did you care?” — Molly Weasley

123 “Where's the fun without a bit of risk?” — Fred Weasley

124 “You're joking, NAME! You are actually joking, NAME ... I don't think I've heard you joke since you were-“ — Fred Weasley

125 “What are we doing here? Has something gone wrong?” “Oh no, NAME,” [sarcastically.] “No, this is exactly where we wanted to end up.” — Ron and Fred Weasley

126 “Where is NAME?" "Still in the showers," "We think he’s/she's trying to drown himself.” — Harry Potter and Fred Weasley

127 “We thought we heard your dulcet tones." "You don't want to bottle up your anger like that, NAME, let it all out," “There might be a couple of people fifty miles away who didn't hear you.” — George and Fred Weasley

128 “I don't think you're a waste of space.” — Dudley Dursley

129 “Yeah, but coming from NAME that's like ‘I love you.’” — Harry Potter

130 “The point is, if we find out you’ve been horrible to NAME —” “— and make no mistake, we’ll hear about it.” — Arthur Weasley and Remus Lupin

131 “What you fear most of all is-fear.” —Remus Lupin

132 “There’s a bigger cause out there. It’s bigger than any of us here. But we stick together, all right? We stick together and look out for each other. Because you four are all I’ve got left. And I’m not going to see you die. Forever alive, all right? We’re not going to die." -Sirius Black

133 “Thought we were supposed to be friends? Best friends?” “We are, NAME.” — Severus Snape and Lily Potter

134 “NAME was scowling at him/her, but NAME refused to be judged by a cat.”

135 “I don’t know everything about life and marriage and happiness. But I do know what love is. And I do know that when love is real, and when love is in its strongest form, it is the most powerful thing on this earth. It kills, saves lives, heals wounds, and most of all, brings hope. That is what you have done for me, NAME. You have brought me hope." — James Potter

136 “I'm sorry too, that I will never know him/her ... but he/she will know why I died and I hope he/she will understand. I was trying to make a world in which he/she could live a happier life." — Remus Lupin

137 “I DON'T CARE! I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!” — Harry Potter

138 “You do care. You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.” — Albus Dumbledore

139 “He/She must have known I'd want to leave you." “No, he/she must have known you would always want to come back.” — Ron Weasley and Harry Potter

140 “You think I'm a fool?" “No, I think you're like NAME, who would have regarded it as the height of dishonor to mistrust his/her friends.” — Harry Potter and Remus Lupin

141 “You’re less like your father/mother/etc than I thought. The risk would’ve been what made it fun for NAME.” — Sirius Black

142 “The battle is always the same, just with different chapters.”

143 “I will if you go out with me, NAME.” — James Potter

144 “Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery.” — Albus Dumbledore

145 “We must try not to sink beneath our anguish, NAME, but battle on." — Albus Dumbledore

146 “Eat, you'll feel better." — Remus Lupin

147 “Training for the ballet, NAME?” — Draco Malfoy

148 “You’re a fool, NAME, and you will lose everything.” — Voldemort

149 “There is no good and evil. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it.” — Voldemort

150 “What if I don't care?" “I care. How do you think I'd feel if this was your funeral ...and it was my fault ...” — Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter

151 “Greatness inspires envy, envy engenders spite, spite spawns lies.”

152 “I have seen your heart, and it is mine.” — Voldemort

153 “What is it about my presence in your home that displeases you, NAME?” “Nothing — nothing, my Lord!” “Such lies, NAME . . .” — Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy

154 “Come out, NAME ... come out and play, then it will be quick it might even be painless I would not know I have never died.” — Voldemort

155 “Do nothing! He's/She’s mine to finish! He's /She’s mine!” — Voldemort

156 “They never learn. Pity.” — Voldemort

157 “Invite him inside, NAME. Where are your manners?” — Voldemort

158 “As inspiring as I find your bloodlust, NAME, I must be the one to kill NAME.” — Voldemort

159 “Oh, he/she knows how to play, little bitty baby NAME.” — Bellatrix

160 “I don't like to be kept waiting!” — Bellatrix (Hermione)

161 “Ah, shut up, NAME, yeh great prune.” — Hagrid

162 “You think it - wise - to trust NAME with something as important as this?" “I would trust NAME with my life.” — McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore

163 “It unscrews the other way.” — Professor McGonagall

164 “They’re supposed to be, you blithering idiot.” — Professor McGonagall

165 “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, NAME." — Professor McGonagall

166 “"I – I didn't think –" “That is obvious." — Harry Potter and Professor McGonagall

167 “Why is it when something happens, it is always you three?” — Professor McGonagall

168 “NAME, that was foolish!" "He spat at you.” — Professor McGonagall and Harry Potter

169 “NAME – you're here! What –? How –?" — Professor McGonagall

170 “I didn't want anyone to talk to me.” "Well, that was a bit stupid of you.” — Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley

171 “Are you really giving us permission to do this?” “Yes, NAME.” “Blow it up? Boom?” “BOOM!” Neville Longbottom and Professor McGonagall

172 “That's the spirit, now away you go.” — Professor McGonagall

173 “NAME, take NAME with you. He/She looks far too happy over there.” — Professor McGonagall

174 “Do nothing? Offer him/her up as bait? NAME is a boy/girl/child! Not a piece of meat!” — Professor McGonagall

175 “That was bloody brilliant!” — Ron Weasley

176 “May I offer you a cough drop, NAME?” — Professor McGonagall

177 “Things at NAME are far worse than I feared." — Dolores Umbridge

178 “You know, I really hate children." — Dolores Umbridge

179 “I'm sure we're all going to be very good friends." — Dolores Umbridge

180 “The time has come for answers, whether he/she wants to give them or not." — Dolores Umbridge

181 “Deep down, you know that you deserve to be punished. Don't you, NAME?" — Dolores Umbridge

182 “I WILL have order!" — Dolores Umbridge

183 “What NAME doesn't know won't hurt him/her." — Dolores Umbridge

184 “As I told you NAME, naughty children deserve to be punished.” — Dolores Umbridge

185 “NAME, do something. Tell them I mean no harm.” “I'm sorry, NAME. But I must not tell lies.” — Harry Potter and Dolores Umbridge

186 “And that, boys/girls, is why you should never go on looks alone.”

187 “NAME, listen ...” [quietly] “I can’t be involved with you any more. We’ve got to stop seeing each other. We can’t be together.” “It’s for some stupid, noble reason, isn’t it?” — Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley

188 “It’s been like ... like something out of someone else’s life, these last few weeks with you. But I can’t ... we can’t ... I’ve got things to do alone now.” — Harry Potter

189 “When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love."

190 “You are protected, in short, by your ability to love!” — Albus Dumbledore

191 “NAME’s man/woman through and through, aren’t you NAME?” “Yeah I am. Glad we straightened that out.”

192 “He/She accused me of being NAME’s man/woman through and through.” “How very rude of him/her.” “I told him/her I was.”

193 “He/She will only be gone from PLACE when none here are loyal to him/her.” — Harry Potter

194 “Working hard is important. But there is something that matters even more, believing in yourself.” — Harry Potter

195 “One can never have enough socks.” �� Albus Dumbledore

196 “People find it far easier to forgive others for being wrong than right.” — Albus Dumbledore

197 “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” — Albus Dumbledore

198 “The best of us sometimes eat our words.” — Albus Dumbledore

199 “Time will not slow down when something unpleasant lies ahead.” — Hermione Granger

200 “Don’t you tell me what to do, NAME!” — Hermione Granger

25 notes · View notes

kaffeinic · 5 years

Text

Caffeinic | Bang Chan

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | Epilogue

Pairing: Reader x Barista!Bang Chan

Genre: Fluff // Romance

Warnings: Fem!Reader

Preamble: You’ve been going to the same coffee shop for the past four years. You’ve ordered the same thing almost every single day, and you never, ever skip on that part of your morning. So, when Mrs. Park hired a new barista and the once serene café was suddenly flooded with people every second of the day, you were less than thrilled.

You continued your routine as usual throughout the next few months. The café was still just as crowded as it had always been in the morning, so you opted to visit during the evening. You and Chan had become well-acquainted before you switched the timing of your coffee breaks.

It was late autumn, - possibly early winter - and you hugged your black trench coat close to your body, nuzzling your nose into your oversized brown scarf. The café was relatively calm at this time. You deduced it was because of the absence of a certain blonde haired gentleman. Part of you missed his unapologetically flirty attitude that you’d come to enjoy, but your priorities chose a calming atmosphere over a cute, dimply smile.

Midterms were coming up and your book bag was ripping at the seams from the weight of your textbooks. You figured you would do what you always did this time of year and sip on some coffee while you studied. When you walked through the door, you were greeted by the Park family, and - though you didn’t expect it - Chan.

“Hey there, Y/n! Are you here for some coffee?” Mrs. Park asked. You nodded and held up your book bag.

“I’m in for a long night.” You laughed at the end of your reply, but you were anything but happy to be studying tonight. Mrs. Park frowned.

“Oh, that’s a shame. I was going to ask if you’d like to join Junyoung and I. It’s his birthday today.” You looked at her son. He smiled sheepishly.

“Happy birthday! I almost forgot- I got this for you.” You dug through your book bag and handed him a small, wrapped gift. He took it and inspected the outside. “Open it!” You exclaimed. He smiled excitedly and did as you asked.

His eyes widened a little as he looked at the tiny Rilakkuma figurine. It was something you had held onto for a few months after seeing it in the store. It screamed his name. The boy was constantly decorating his bags, clothes, and laptop with the character. He shot you a genuine smile and gave you a hug.

“Thank you so much, Y/n! It’s perfect!” He admired it again and ran upstairs to put it away.

“Are you sure you can’t join us?” Mrs. Park pleaded. You smiled, but shook your head.

“I’m sorry, midterms are coming up.” You explained. She nodded in understanding and waved as Junyoung rushed down the stairs. You all said your goodbyes, Mr. Park went upstairs to his office, and you took your seat at the bar.

“It’s been a while.” You heard a familiar Australian accent. You looked up at Chan and smiled.

“Yeah, it has. How’ve you been?” You inquired. He shrugged his shoulders. You placed your book bag on the counter next to you.

“Same old, same old.” He paused. “Missing you, of course.” One side of his lips pulled up into a smirk as he laughed at his own joke.

“Yeah, yeah.” You shooed him away.

“The usual?” He asked. He had a towel in his hand as he dried a light brown coffee mug. You couldn’t help but notice how attractive the man looked in his black dress shirt with its two top buttons undone. A thick silver chain hung from his neck and a gleam of white light poked through between a gap in the fabric.

You shook your head. “Surprise me.” With that, he smiled brightly.

“Alright. I will.” He shot you that smirk of his again and got to work. You loved the smell of the café; It was always so sweet and warm. You also had become accustomed to the faint scent of Chan’s cologne. Those two scents mixed together made your heart flutter, and was why you had changed your seating choice from the corner table to the center of the bar. You hated to admit it, but it was true. “Are you going to study at home?”

You looked up with thought. “I’m not sure. The heater isn’t working, so I’ve been avoiding staying there.” You replied. Chan’s face fell.

“That’s not good. You should get it looked at.” He had genuine concern is his voice, and you saw no indication that he was trying to mock you. You nodded.

“Of course.”

“You could study here. I’m closing.” He said. You raised an eyebrow.

“Your offer is suddenly less tempting with that information.” You retorted. He feigned offense, placing his large hand on his chest. You noticed his thick silver rings.

“Well, fine then.” He said, turning back to the coffee machine.

“I’m kidding, you big baby. I think I’ll stay. I’d rather work here, where it’s warm.” You said. You could faintly see the edges of his mouth curl up at your words.

You immersed yourself into your work, flipping through pages in your biology textbook as you scribbled notes onto some college ruled paper. You would occasionally feel a pair of brown eyes on you, but you didn’t dare look up. Little did you know, Chan was staring intently at your face. At your lips, in particular. He especially liked it when you bit your bottom lip in thought.

It took him an astonishingly long time, but he finally placed a cup of hot coffee in front of you. The aroma flooded your senses and you perked up instantly.

“What is it?” You inquired.

“Your coffee.” He said. You shot him a look.

“You don’t say?” He laughed at your remark and urged you to take a sip.

“Try it.” He said.

“What’s in it?”

“Coffee, water...”

“If I drink it, will you stop?” Your fingers wrapped around the handle of the mug.

“Maybe.” You rolled your eyes, lifting the cup to your lips. “Blow on it first.” You looked up at him over the rim of the mug.

“Uh- Why?”

“I don’t want you to burn your lips.” He replied.

“Don’t you mean, ‘burn your tongue?’” You asked.

“No.” He waited, but you didn’t move. “I mean, if you want, I can blow on it for you.” He offered, smiling. You rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time, but suddenly tensed up when his face came close to yours. He blew softly on the surface of the steaming coffee, eyes slowly finding yours. You looked down.

“I’ve got it, thanks Dad.” You said, moving away. He laughed at your reaction.

“No problem, Babygirl™.” Sorry. You choked on your coffee and Chan lost it. He began laughing uncontrollably, holding onto his abdomen. You would have rolled your eyes at another one of his flirty lines, but you were caught so off-guard that you just sat there with coffee dribbling down your chin. After a moment, you wailed.

“It got in my nose!”

After a few colourful words from you and mischievous giggles from him, you were back to work. At that moment, someone new walked into the café. The bell hanging above the door chimed and both you and Chan turned your attention to the entrance.

“Welcome, sir. What can I get you?” Chan walked to the side of the counter closer to the door. The man looked at Chan, then you.

“Americano. Make it quick.” He said.

Now, what happened next really ticked you off.

The bar of the café was very large, and there were at least five extra seats on either side of you, away from your bags and yourself, not to mention the twenty or so empty tables behind you. This man, however, seemed to have never touched on the topic of personal space. He slid into the chair to your left, staring at your textbooks as if to say, “Move them.”

You internally cursed at him and slid everything you had to the right. Chan was busy making the americano the man had asked for, the sound of a coffee grinder echoing in the otherwise silent room.

“College?” The man beside you asked. You didn’t look at him, nor did you answer. You scribbled more notes in your notebook and took a sip of your coffee. He huffed.

“Don’t you know that pretty girls should smile a bit more?” He craned his head to look at your face. “Don’t be rude.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but have we met?” You raised an eyebrow. He smiled. His teeth were riddled with cavities.

“In your dreams, maybe.”

In my nightmares, is more like it. You thought.

You began packing up your bags in an attempt to be rid of this man and his foul stench, but when his hand found its way to your waist, you nearly jumped out of your skin. You wondered if Chan knew what was happening. You looked up at him to see another wet mug in his hands. He was working, not paying you two any attention. He walked behind you to scrub on the tables before closing for the night.

You pushed the man’s hand away and shoved more items into your bag. He scooted his stool closer, this time, his arm snaking around your waist. He whispered in your ear.

“Why don’t you be a good girl?” He seethed. Your eyes widened and you wondered how far this man was willing to go. There’s was no alcohol on his breath. You had hoped there was, to give him the benefit of the doubt. He was fully aware of what he was doing, and that made it even worse.

While you were caught up in your thoughts, you felt a strong hand pull the man’s off of your waist.

“She’s clearly not interested, mate.” Chan said. At that moment, you had never been so happy to have him there.

“What do you know? It’s none of your business, mate.” The man challenged him, smirking as he ripped his hand away from Chan.

The blonde boy whose eyes were usually so playful and happy were now stoic and cold.

“Get out.” Chan said. The man beside you didn’t budge.

“No. You don’t own the place.” The man’s knees brushed against your outer thigh, and you shivered, not daring to move.

“Get. Out.” Chan repeated himself, so much more malice in his tone than before. You shifted your weight on the stool, afraid of what might happen next.

Posted a few hours early because I couldn’t wait lol. How’s that for a cliffhanger? Sorry not sorry for that Babygirl reference lol. Smash that like button if you enjoyed~ Have a nice day!

* DISCLAIMER: I do not own any gifs/photos used in this post. I do own the written content. Do NOT repost/edit. *

🏷 @a-toxic-galaxy • @hoshithehamster

#kpop #fanfictions #headcannons #reactions #imagines #ships #stray kids #skz #3racha #chan #bang chan #christopher bang #cb97 #felix #woojin #lee know #felix lee

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babs74 · 5 years

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Oh shit!!

I just hit 50 followers! I know that’s not a big deal really, but ITS EXCITING FOR ME!!!

I have nothing I can really give you as a celebration, and my main purpose here is just as a hype gal, so guess I’ll just hype!

@deacytits for being the first person I really interacted with here; for welcoming me to this hellsite with open arms; for late night hilarious and excellent random chats; and now, for #sex ed with Monica. And for Tease. Always for Tease. Lord.

Which I guess leads nicely to @anotheronebitesthedeaks for being simultaneously the most badass no nonsense bish; and also the softest, sweetest, subbiest darling I have ever known rock a headband. SDD. I mean...

@deakysgurl for being the most caring lovely John hoe we all need. Your shoutouts make my heart leap, and I’m sure you do the same for “hubby” everyday. (It’s John isn’t it? We know it’s Deaky. I KNOW ITS YOU VERONICA!!!)

@sweet-ladyy for MOTH Ch5. You know what I’m talking about. We all know what I’m talking about. MOTH CH5!!!! And, fuck it, 9! The whole thing really, obvs. Sweet Jesus. Sweet Deaky. I became a Deaky girl for at least a month after that scene. That is the power of your writing! Lordy. I need a shower. OHH!! And the joy of a World Famous Blake Fic ReviewTM. I can only aspire to write something worthy one day.

Speaking of smut, @stormtrprinstilettos, fuck Becca!! Could you write a bit more maybe? Jeez woman, I will never understand how you keep producing such high quality content in such volumes, but maybe I don’t want to! I will just bathe in your horny, horny glory! And when I finally make it back to New Orleans, I’ll see you in the Dungeon, ya?

@m0etenchandon for Virtues, and all the rest of the writing. You are Queen of characterisation and dialogue, and I will fight anyone who thinks otherwise.

@90sbrianmay for I win, you’re mine, forbidden, and the whole master list really. And for explaining so much of tumblr in my early days. I’m old, bitches, I don’t know half this stuff!!!

@haflacky for your gorgeous art which is literally on my bedroom walls.

@mazzelo for indulging my every ridiculous mood board request, and making them magical.

@inthedayswhenlandswerefew for 27 steps; possibly my fave series; and Superheroes by Day; DEFO my fave one shot ever!! I have never laughed so much, I love it PLEASE DO MORE!!!

@zodiacal-dust-and-curls for almost turning me into a Bri girl at one point, and the time you encouraged me to try writing something once. It turned out horrific, but I tried!!

For my recent friends who I hope to get to know more: @thigh-your-mother-down @the-claire-bitch-project @forever-rogue and @taronisbaby

And last, but in literally no way least, the beautiful @rogerfckintaylor, who inspires me to be my most confident, outspoken and most sensual self every day; take zero shit and absolutely feel myself. And (you may not know this) but who gave me the confidence and made me comfortable enough to come out as Bi to my friends and family.

I love you all xx.

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 5 years

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The Tug || Stan U. x Fem?Reader

Requested: @trash-mouthlover Could you do a cute soulmate au with good ol Stan the man. If not that's cool too. P.s. your writings are amazing!

A//N: Absolutely! I love Stan the man! I will always love my sassy little noodle-head boi. I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG!!! P.s. thank you, you are so sweet! After a lot of searching I finally decided on this soulmate au:

-You can feel a tug from wherever your soulmate is. These may either be automatic or have stronger tugs whenever your soulmate is in distress.

Also, while writing this, it actually started to morph into a Bev x reader without realizing and I had to steer it back on track 😂 Also, going back and reading it, I’m realizing there is almost no interaction between Stan and the reader and for that I apologize, this is the first time writing a soulmate au and I quickly realized, I’m not that good at it. Also, I’m probably gonna make a part two at some point to make up for the lack of Stan x Reader.

Pairings: Stan Uris x Fem!Reader <btw, the whole fem!reader is only on one small technicality and that was because reader uses the girls bathroom. But technically you can read it as any gender considering they didn’t exactly have gender neutral bathrooms so it can be read as either way I believe>

Warnings: Some cursing. Henry Bowers being creepy for like two seconds. Greta being mean and throwing literally ONE homophobic slur. It felt in character but I still didn't enjoy writing it and might take it out later.

{EDITED AS OF 6•17•19}

Summer break.

Fucking finally.

You forgot how angelic the final bell was on the last day of school. You were gladly swept along the ocean of kids into and down the hallway until you found yourself in front of your locker.

Entering the code you've done mindlessly so for the past 9 months for the final time. The metal door swung open and hit the adjoining lockers with a rather obnoxious clang that was drowned out by the crowd in the hallway. Given that your bus wouldn't show up for another twenty minutes, you knew you were in no hurry so you took your time emptying out your lockers contents. Having learned your lesson from last year, you had brought a spare plastic grocery bag for trash. You had just finished separating the trash and were now putting the rest of your belongings into your bag when you couldn't help but overhear a snippet of conversation from some passing boys in the hallway.

"Yeah, and I think the rabbi's gonna pull down your pants, turn to the crowd and say, 'Where's the beef?'"

With a curious frown, you froze and looked over your shoulder to see the infamous Richie, the trashmouth Tozier. Oh, you were definitely familiar with him. With a small shake of the head, you rolled your eyes and smiled. You closed your locker, swung your backpack over your shoulder and made your way to the girls room.

Of course, the traffic in the hall was still pretty congested so you found yourself a few feet behind Richie and his friends. Anxious to get to the bathroom, yet, as usual, there seemed to be absolutely no wiggle room to squeeze by leaving you no option but to trail behind them awkwardly unintentionally overhearing their conversation. You only saw the backs of their heads and you took an educated guess of who's who. To his right was a blonde boy, just a little taller than Richie, who you assumed to be Bill Denbrough. You frowned at the thought.

Poor boy.

Derry was a relatively small town, or at least small enough for word to travel fast. And the strange passing of his little brother Georgie was no exception. Everyone heard about that. To his right, the tallest boy, who was wearing a kippah, began speaking.

"At the Bar Mitzvah, I read from the Torah, and then I make a speech and suddenly I become a man."

Having been previously staring at your shoes, you nervously look up when you get the sudden feeling of being watched. Your eyes hastily dart up and you curse yourself under your breath when you see the cold dark eyes of Henry Bowers and his posse look you up and down.

No longer feeling safe, you quickly return your gaze to the floor, tighten your grip on your backpack straps and push past the boys. Unintentionally shoving them aside, a pang of guilt passes over you and you quickly turn your head back and throw a quick "sorry" their way.

You visibly relaxed when you reached the safety of the long hallway of the girls bathroom.

What you saw made your face scrunch up in confusion, there was a pair of girls standing around but the suspicious thing was one of them was filling up the trash bag from the garbage can up with water in the sink. Deciding staying out of it was your best option you kept to yourself and walked into one of the unoccupied stalls. The smell of a burning cigarette filled your senses and you couldn't help but cringe.

You had just done your business and done what you needed to do, you were just about ready to pull open the stall door when you heard an angry grunt followed by the sound of someone kicking the nearby stall. You froze out of instinct.

"Are you in there by yourself, Beaver-ly? Or do you have half the guys in the school with you, huh, slut? I know you're in there, little shit. I can smell you."

You frowned. You wanted to say something, but Greta was ruthless and you didn't what to say. You felt ashamed for sitting there, doing nothing.

"Which is it, Greta? Am I a slut or a little shit? Make up your mind." You couldn't help but smile at that. Good for her.

"You're trash."

Thump.

Oh, no.

Now you understood why the girl had been filling up the garbage.

You hastily opened the door to do something, not knowing what yet. You came out just in time to see the other girl standing on the neighbor toilet dumping the trash bag full of water into Beverly's stall.

"Hey! Get out of here! Leave the poor girl alone!" You yell, livid.

"A bit late to defend your girlfriend, you dirty little dike." She spit in your direction causing you to jump back in disgust.

The three girls laughed and strutted out of the bathroom.

It was quiet for a moment and you walked to stall Beverly was still in.

You two knew each other. You weren't exactly friends, but you didn't hate each other or anything. You were acquaintances.

Until now.

You softly knocked on the stall and asked in a quiet voice.

"Hey, you need any help?"

+++

You were glad you made friends with Beverly Marsh. She was kind and funny and the two of you had a lot more in common than you'd realized. Of course, the time came for you to catch your bus and the two of you parted ways, not before making plans to hang out later of course.

You made your way onto the crowded bus for the final time and took a seat in your regular spot and got out your walkman and pressed play, turning off your brain. Many bus stops later you found yourself in your regular routine. You rounded the familiar corner of your neighboring street, only two blocks away from your house when it happened.

That tug.

The one everyone talked about. Bragged about even.

Sure a couple of times you thought you felt it, or the ghost of the tug. But this time you were sure.

It wasn't the good tug either, it was the rapid, frantic tug. It made your heart flutter. Were they okay? You'd heard stories of a soulmate being in distress, but it never felt like this. It was frantic and the pull was in every direction at once. It caused your own heart to thud rapidly against your chest. Once again you felt helpless. But what could you do? You didn't even know who your soulmate was.

Unable to think about anything else, you let your feet carry you home as your worried mind conjured endless scenarios. Anything that could possibly explain what the hell was happening. To your great relief, it gradually relaxed. Lulled into a soft but present tug.

They were safe. For now.

+++

A few days later, you finally were able to meet up with Beverly. She had insisted on going out and doing literally anything other than staying inside. When you stopped by her house and had a rather unpleasant greeting from her father you immediately understood why. The two of you were content with walking around town, and when she mentioned she needed to stop by the drug store you obliged. Naturally, you told her about the tug from the other day and she listened intently, invested in the conversation and offering advice as friends do. Which you greatly appreciated.

"I know, right? I'm glad you think so, I was starting to think I was paranoid or maybe I, I don't know..." You trailed off when you noticed two boys in the alleyway, one of them looked to be pretty bloodied up.

"Hey, why don't you go inside and get your supplies, I'll meet you out here? Sound good?" She looked confused but seemed to understand you had a good reason.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sure thing." She smiled and headed inside, the ring of the store bell echoing.

Your eyes never broke contact with the boys in the alley and you walked toward them to offer help.

Upon closer examination, or rather being within earshot, you realized it was none other than Richie Tozier."Glad I got to meet you before you died." He said awkwardly standing above the bloodied up kid who was sitting on a crate.

You recognized the kid. It was the new kid, Ben. You remembered him from math class. He was a sweet kid.

"Alright, now just what did you do to him, Tozier?" You called out teasingly, grabbing the attention of the two young boys.

Richie's eyes bugged out behind his big glasses before he quickly recovered.

"Oi! Wassen' me I'm tellin ya!" He squeaked in awkward accent.

"Yikes! That accent needs a little work there, Tozier."You winked and turned to the bleeding boy before you could catch the offended look from Richie.

"Ben, right?"

He nodded.

"[Y/N]. Nice to meet ya." You two shared a polite but genuine smile.

You crouched down to meet his eye level, and sat on one leg."So, I'm just gonna assume that you that there actually IS someone who can help? You are aren't just letting yourself bleed out in some alley with this douche, right?" You said with a crooked smile, gesturing with your thumb to the speckled boy in a Hawaiian shirt.

You and Richie had known each other for a couple months. You two were the only ones who could keep each other sane during social studies class. Friendly banter was not uncommon between you two.

"Y-Yeah, they went inside," Ben spoke up.

"May I?" I gesture to his injury to take a look and he obliges.

You gently straighten out his shirt to examine the injury and it doesn't take too long to notice the three deep gashes that form an "H" on his stomach. You press your lips into a firm line, sighing, meeting the poor boy's eye.

"Bowers, huh?" You said quietly.

"Yeah." He admits quietly.

"Yeah, he is a real prick." You mumbled, terrified to say such things even when he's nowhere around.

Suddenly, you thought you felt a gentle tug in the center of your chest and your attention was quickly snatched at the sound of the drug store bell ringing rapidly. You heard a cluster of hurried footsteps and you stood to your feet turning in the direction of the noise to see two of three boys scurrying down the alley carrying a bunch of supplies.

You recognized the boys to be one the very same ones from school the other day. You could only name one, and that was Bill, although he seemed hesitant to walk over. It seemed he was more interested in something just outside the alley.

"I'm assuming you guys are the medical team I've heard so much about. Great response time." You quipped sending a smile.

The shortest one, who was carrying all the supplies was focused only on tending to Ben, which you dubbed a good thing.

"Why do you have two fanny packs?" You asked.

"I don't want to get into it right now, who are you anyway?"

"Y/N. I noticed Ben here in the alley, you know, bleeding out. And I figured, I better come rescue him from the company or Tozier, here." You smirk, and earning a glare and a snide comment from Richie.

Soon enough, the attention redirects itself back to Ben's wound. Richie starts yelling at the boy tending to Ben, who you learned his name to be Eddie, and Eddie argues back.

"You gotta suck the wound dry before applying the band aids. This is 101."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." You snort, and seem to have earned a chuckle from the other boy.

You were about to turn and introduce yourself when you heard a familiar voice.

"Are you okay? That looks like it hurts."

"Bev, there you are!" You stand up and make room for Eddie to tend to Ben.

You take a few steps back and stand next to the girl. It was then you made eye contact with Bill. He had a hint of recollection.

"[Y-Y/n], r-r-right?"

You smile politely.

"The one and only. Nice to meet you... Bill?" You asked his name, confidently, but asked anyway not wanting to seem weird.

He nodded and you took your hand out of your pocket for a brief moment to shake hands with the tallest boy.

"And I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met?" You asked politely.

The tallest boy stood still, almost in a daze of some sort and you frowned slightly, pulling your hand back hesitantly.

You looked around at the other boys in confusion. "Did- Did I say something, or-?"

Richie waltzed over, with the largest, shit-eating grin you had ever seen and placed his arm around the boy's shoulder shaking him slightly.

"Oh, no! Don't be silly! Ol' Stan the Man here loses his shit when he sees somethin' he likes." With that same shit-eating grin, he looked you in the eyes, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

You quirked an eyebrow and chuckled softly. "Excuse me?"

Before Richie could answer, the boy, Stan you presumed, spoke up, elbowing Richie in the process.

"Can it, Richie."

He sighed and straightened himself out as he looked back to you, awkwardly sticking out his hand to shake yours. "Stan Uris."

You smiled warmly and reached out to take his hand. "[Y/N] [L/N]."

The two of you froze when you simultaneously felt the same tug, the strongest you had ever felt, the one your parents gushed about, and you two shared a look. Silently agreeing not to bring it to attention and save it for later you two smiled at each other and turned to the poor kid who was still getting patched up. Although you couldn't help the blush that rivaled Stan's.

You made a mental note to ask him what happened to him the other day...

Bev directed her attention to the Ben, they seemed to know each other

She had a certain glint in her eye as she spoke to him.

"You sure they got the right stuff, to fix you up?"

Bill spoke up. "W-We'll take care of him. Thanks again, Beverly."

"Sure," she nodded, then turned gesturing to you. "Maybe, we'll see you around."

You made eye contact with Stan, and smiled knowingly, causing another blush to dust his cheeks and he awkwardly coughed.

It seemed everyone was oblivious to this, thankfully.

"Yeah, we were thinking about going to the q-quarry tomorrow, if you guys wa-wanna come."

You and Beverley shared a look and you turned to the boys. "Good to know."

"Yeah, thanks."

Hiding your smirk, the two of you turned and walked down the alley together.

This would definitely be interesting.

+++++

⇴ The Tug - [Part 2]

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madamslayyy · 5 years

Text

You Want A What? (Trevante Rhodes x Reader)

Pairing: Dad!Trevante Rhodes x Black!Reader

Warnings: None, lil Angst if you squint

A/N: So I have no clue why I even wrote this but here we go. It’s a continuation of my previous fic Cake which you can read Here. Hope y’all enjoy it, let me know what y’all think!!

Trevante:

Malik:

Diane:

~*~

“Momma, are you sterile?” Your son, Malik asked, at the breakfast table. It was a beautiful Saturday morning and the three of you (your son, your husband, and yourself) were sitting at the dinner table currently eating breakfast as a family for the first time all week due to you all having conflicting schedules.

“Sksksksksks aaaaaaahhh,” Your husband, Trevante, burst into a fit of giggles, sinking down in his chair and clutching his side.

“Lik, you always keep it interesting, I’ll give you that,” he said fist bumping his son. You didn’t share his amusement.

“Keep laughing it up Chuckles and see what happens,” you said rolling your eyes as he continued to laugh at your empty threat.

“Honey, why would you ask me that? Where did you get that from?” You asked turning to your son seriously.

“We learned about it in Sex Ed. They also said statistically African American and Hispanic communities are more likely to have two or more children during their lifetime if given the opportunity plus all my friends have siblings. Look at Diane, her parents just had a baby-“

“Slow down Gregor Mendel, you think just because your girlfriends got a new baby brother then I’m obviously sterile,”

“Well... yeah...”

“Then how did you get here?” You knew you’d got him there.

“I could be adopted...”

“Ha! Not looking like that you not! Face it, lil man, you look just like your pops. Except for that line up maybe. You got ya Mama’s hairline, son, nothing I can do about that,” Tre laughed ruffling Malik’s hair.

“Yeah he also got your big ass head, which I had to push out! Don’t believe me I can show you the video-

“NO!” Malik and Tre called out in unison. No one wanted to see the birthing video. It was not a pretty sight.

“What I thought. Malik, why you suddenly so cursious about this? Somebody tell you that you were adopted? I bet it was yo dumbass uncle, he always-“

“No it wasn’t Uncle Jaime, I just.... thought it’d be nice you know.... to have a little brother. Diane has so much fun with hers, and she loves him, and her and her siblings are so close, and-“

“Since you love their family so much why don’t you let them adopt you, I can send them the legal papers today and have it finalized by Monday morning. You and Diane might have to break up though. Can’t date your sister, Lik, that’s white people mess,” you laughed but your son didn’t seem to share your amusement.

“El. Oh. El.” Your son deadpanned.

“Why now? You do realize if you did have a sibling now, there’d be a 14 year age difference between you two.”

“15 years actually babe, his birthdays in August, that’s less than 9 months away.” You chimed in with your husband.

“Okay, that’s fine with me.” Malik said finishing his pancakes.

“They’ll be a lot of crying. Dirty diapers. Less attention. You’ve been an only child your whole life, you ready to give that up?”

“Yep.” You and your husband looked at each other, quickly realizing he was serious about this.

“Okay well I think that’s enough baby talk for breakfast. Malik go get dressed before you’re late to Soccer practice,” you said picking up your and his finished plates and taking them to the sink.

“Tre you done?” You asked.

“Yeah, thanks.” He said handing you his plate. You could tell by the look in his eyes, he was still thinking about the prior conversation.

Twenty minutes later and your husband was gone to drop off your son at Soccer practice. The two of you had a routine that whoever cooked breakfast, the other one had to drop him off and pick him up from Soccer practice and today it was Tre’s turn at the latter.

You were currently in your study, going over the evidence the DA’s office had supplied for your latest case but your mind was on anything but. You and Tre had never really talked about more kids. As soon as you’d had Malik you went straight back to work for your law firm, and Tre, being a book editor and writer, was able to mostly work from home allowing him to pick up most of the baby rearing slack. The two of you loved Malik to pieces and didn’t feel the need to have another because you both were too busy pouring love into him.

Knock, knock

“Hey, you uh, you busy?” Tre said peaking his head through your study door.

“Nah not really. Can’t concentrate anyway.” You said taking off your readers and massaging your eye.

“You thinking about what I’m thinking about?” Tre sighed as he sank into one of the plush chairs in your study.

“If what you’re thinking about was our son enlisting our reproductive organs in his scheme for a sibling this morning.... then yes.”

“God, why’d you have to word it like that?Makes it sound so...”

“Technical?”

“Yep,”

“Well that’s how I’ve been trying to approach this... don’t wanna get too attached to the idea y’know.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because Tre... look at us. We’re past that stage. Past dirty diapers and kindergarten and... and...”

“Being parents?”

“We’re already parents.”

“You know what I mean. I love Malik but the boy’s mature for his age. Always has been. And he’s got his wits about him. We never really had to go through it with him like most kids.” Tre sighed.

“I know, he’s a great kid. We really hit the jackpot with him, why try to make lightening strike twice?” You said rubbing your temples.

“So you don’t want more kids?”

“Never said that.”

“Then what do you want?”

“What do YOU want? You’ve been pretty stoic about this whole thing.” You countered.

“I want us to be honest with each other for once. We’ve haven’t talked about it since... you know....” You did know but you didn’t want to talk about it.

It had happened when Malik was six years old. You and Tre were finally beginning to get into the groove of parenthood when you’d started missing your period. You felt sick constantly and the likeliness of the symptoms to your first pregnancy were uncanny.

You took the test and it was positive so naturally, you and Tre began to prepare. You were in the midst of one of your biggest cases to that date and wanted the first ultrasound to work for both you and Tre’s schedule all while balancing a second grader as well.

You were three months pregnant and due for your first ultrasound but meetings for your case and Tre’s own workload with a new book deal kept causing the two of you to reschedule. And reschedule. And reschedule. And before you knew it, you were five months pregnant but your belly hadn’t expanded barely an inch. You knew something wasn’t right.

On a haphazard will you went to the doctor without him. Turns our you weren’t pregnant. You never were. But you were sick. You had intestinal problems that were causing the disease to manifest to the rest of your body, causing your fatigue, vomiting, loss of period, everything. You were upset. You cried yourself all the way from the doctors office to your home and then there as well. When Tre finally got home with Malik, you took it out on him. Called him everything you could think of. Screamed, yelled, threw things. Finally when he realized there was no reasoning with you, he took Malik and left you.

You thought it’d be temporary, that he would eventually come home. He didn’t. A couple of days turned into a week and you eventually caught him dropping Malik off at school. You demanded the two of you talk.

“Where have you been staying with my son?!” You asked hastily after Malik was safely in the classroom though it wasn’t without a fight. He clung to you the second he saw you and started to cry, forcing you to stop your potential he’ll storm you’d had planned for your so-called husband and comfort your son.

“We’re not doing this here.” Tre said roughly, walking back to his Silverado. You’d thought he was walking away from you and the conversation when he held the passenger door open, waiting for you to get in. You got in silently.

The two of you rode in silence until he pulled up to the nearest coffee shop he saw. You sat down thinking the two of you were about to start but he headed straight for the front, and began to order. Only when he finally came back with his large black coffee extra expresso and your large (Y/F/D) were you finally able to get a word through to him.

“Where have you and Malik been Tre?”

“My sister’s.”

“Why haven’t you answered my calls? I am his mother.” You demanded.

“You think I don’t know that? You don’t think I haven’t been at my wits end the last few days trying to calm Malik down because he thought his mom had lost his mind. You’re an amazing mother but I won’t let anyone traumatize my son like that.” Tre said heavily and you knew you’d seriously messed up.

“I’m.... sorry. I was wrong. I never should have brought that around Malik. Or treated you li-

“This isn’t about me,”

“Yes it is. I love you Tre. And what I did to you wasn’t love. That’s no way to treat a stranger on the street, let alone my husband. And for that I apologize.” You reached over the table to hold his hand and you could literally feel how tense he was.

His jaw was set and he kept his eyes trained on your hand encasing his own. You felt your heart sink that maybe this really was it for you two until he finally gripped your hand back in acceptance.

“So are you going to finally tell me what’s really wrong with you? Since you’re not...,” Tre trailed off.

“Pregnant?”

“Yeah...”

“My lower intestines are failing and it’s wrecking havoc on the rest of my body. I have to have surgery to correct it or I won’t be here much longer.” You said solemnly.

“Shouldn’t you be in a hospital?”

“They can’t legally detain me there.”

“Damn it Y/N, this isn’t about legality for once, it’s about your health! When is your surgery?”

“.... In four days...” Tre stood up at this, nearly knocking the contents of the table to the floor.

“Why didn’t you tell me? All those texts and voicemails and you never once mentioned this?!” He walked out of the cafe and you followed behind him. You watched him from a distance not sure what he might do. You could see tears streaming down his face.

You wrapped your arms around his middle and hugged him while he buried his face into your hair and cried. You didn’t notice when the tears started to fall from your eyes as well, soaking his shirt.

“Tre...”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t wanna be the black people crying in the Starbucks parking lot,” you quipped causing him to chuckles.

“C’mon, lets go home,” Tre sniffled, opening the door for you. You got in and waiting while he got in on his side then the two of you pulled off.

“Aye, Y/N,”

“Hmmm?”

“Don’t you ever keep something like this from me again. If you’re sick, you gotta tell me. We in this together, right?” Tre took your left hand in his right and intertwined them, kissing the back of your hand.

“Right.”

“I don’t want another,” you said quietly, coming out of your thoughts.

“Are you sure, baby?”

“Yeah I’m sure. I love Malik to death. And you as well. You two are enough for me.” You smiled as Tre walked around behind you, kissing your neck.

“Great because I’ve got the perfect way to get Malik off this whole sibling kick,” Tre mumbled into your pulse.

“Hmmm? And how’s that?”

“We get him a Pitbull,”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!”

~*~

So I’m tagging my lol Trevante taglist, one day I’ll make an official one for each person i wrote for but for now here goes

Taglist: @queennanayaa @chaneajoyyy @wawakanda-btch @killmongerthiskoochie @theunsweetenedtruth @blackgirloneshots @blmforeal @erikkillmongerstan @jozigrrl @quietstorm-73 @sailorsenshi420 @wakandamama @mxearth @chefjessypooh @macfizzle @chasingsunlight @dameshaemonique @rubiesandravens @raysunshine78 @melaninmarvel @melanisticroyalty @softnani @vibranium-soul @bartierbakarimobisson @teheeboo @lifelover4u @youreadthatright @doublesidedscoobysnacks @blackpinup22 @darkangelchronicles @thehomierobbstark @cinki-the-black-goddess

#trevante rhodes #trevante rhodes imagine #trevante rhodes x you #trevante rhodes x reader

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deathbomb · 5 years

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In 2014, Sean Jewel conducted a massive interview with a gathering of Deathbomb Arc artists and label head Brian Miller. In recent years, the article has been scrubbed from the site it was originally posted at. We have gathered all of the text content for it from archival sites and recreated it below. Only one image from it has currently been found, picturing (L-R) tik///tik, William Hutson, and Jonathan Snipes.

No Genre, No Authenticity, No Problem: An Interview With LA Label Deathbomb Arc by Sean Jewell

Interview conducted with Los Angeles DIY label Deathbomb Arc, on the birth of clipping., the meaning of experimental music, and the curses and blessings of liking everything:

I love Seattle, but after developing a nasty case of seasonal-affected malaise last month, I did what any miserable person would do: took some work in Los Angeles, California. I later realized that the dates I’d be there included the evening of the Grammys. I began to imagine a scenario in which an award would be given to artists who take chances with music rather than make popular music, and little Los Angeles label Deathbomb Arc came to mind. I did what any self-doubting writer would do: I requested an interview. Deathbomb Arc is the label that birthed Sub Pop signees clipping., a group whose music works as much to entertain as it does to muddle and expand genre. Their 2013 release midcity did the unlikely and combined two of my great loves: electroacoustic interference music and hiphop. I wanted to understand the genesis of their sound, so I talked to label boss Brian Miller and to my surprise in one evening he’d rounded up two-thirds of the members of clipping., Jonathan Snipes, and William Hutson (Daveed Diggs was away and unavailable), rapper I.E. (Margot Padilla), noise musician Tik//Tik (Stephen Cano) and label videographer and graphic designer Cristina Bercovitz for an all-pro interview session.

I did my best to avoid the Grammys in LA. I sped up Mullholland drive, tumbled down Topanga Canyon, and watched paddle boarders surf in the sunset at Malibu. I went to Watts, talked to the daughter of Harlem Renaissance player Leo Trammel about the Charles Mingus Youth Arts Center. We agreed Los Angeles’ legacy of great musicians (Eric Dolphy, Schoolboy Q, John Cage, Ice Cube, Tyrese Gibson, Barry White just to name a few) was shamefully not its most recognized feature. I watched a girl play guitar at Watts Towers, heard her father sing, and became aggravated at the police helicopters looming overhead. I relaxed in the sun. That evening I found my way to Mid City LA and met the Deathbomb Arc crew at the home of Jonathan Snipes. We sat around the kitchen table and talked. My malaise melted and was recast as a sense of belonging.

My first exposure to clipping. was through their mixtape for No Conclusion. The group took a leak of Kanye West’s Yeezus, and the idea from their Twitter followers that Kanye might have been listening to clipping. during its making, and put together a mixtape over their favorite parts of his leaked songs (there weren’t many) that included their favorite rap music from the year prior. The person who pointed me toward clipping. mentioned to me that this label had been releasing artists music on cassette like the medium never went out of style. clipping. released an untitled cassette on Deathbomb and very few sold until their album midcity drew attention with a free online download. Midcity was also later released on cassette. I asked Brian Miller about that.

“I feel pretty out of touch with the history of its hipness. I put out the first cassette on Deathbomb in ’04 and at that point I felt late to the game.” He and Jeff Witscher (aka Rene Hell) put out work on cassette as Foot Village. He reminded me that the cassette has always been the chosen medium of the noise music genre and that it just never went away in that small corner due to its relative cheapness to produce. Brian is soft spoken and obviously cares deeply about music. He’s seen to it that his younger musicians get albums put out on cassette so they can see and hold quality, visible copies of their work. He does it to show them he cares. The idea comes up that older cars accommodate the medium, as well as the fact that it can be produced in any length cheaply. “The thing I love about cassettes is that nobody is making the argument that they sound better,” Snipes jokes. “They sound awful, so the the appeal really is all fetish or novelty.” "I have no idea what many of the younger acts I work with think about me putting their music out on cassette," Brian Miller says. "For them it’s not novelty or fetish at all, they didn't grow up with them, and acts like Signor Benedick The Moor have been completely shocked when I describe releasing music on actual physical cassette” I.E. is sitting off to my left and confirms the notion when he asks if she had an opinion about the release of her work on a certain medium: “I didn't care what the hell it came out on!”

I.E. makes painfully earnest hiphop that stems from her growing up outside of LA (in Inland Empire, hence the name). I ask her how her recent show in Seattle was. “It was terrible.” I played at The Josephine, nobody came, I just kind of played for the two dudes that lived there and the other act.” Brian Miller reminisces on bringing clipping. and Foot Village to Seattle and being well attended, but recognizes the fortune of those in their scene in LA, a place with no apprehension about putting a band on a bill because of their style. It’s this kind of availability and openness at venues (the last decade) that has given way to such a youthful music movement in LA (think Burger Records, Innovative Leisure, Deathbomb Arc).

Snipes, who is also a film score producer (Room 237, the documentary that investigates the myths behind Kubrick’s The Shining, is his best work, which he brought along Bill Hutson for) confesses his love for CDs as a music medium and his worst show in Seattle. He’s hirsute and talkative, smart, and nice. He has a lot of thoughts about music. He recalls his worst show in Seattle with his "ravesploitation" group Captain Ahab (one part of the genesis of clipping.) “I played the Baltic Room, the people who booked the show were very kind, but we got unplugged pretty soon into our set because people who were there weren't there to watch a sweaty white dude rap about buttholes.” Laughter erupts at the table. “It gave me the perspective that my idea—which to me was the most important part of that group—was totally offensive to everyone else on the bill, rappers and DJs whose craft defined them. Since then I've been on a bill or two with acts who I regarded as offensive.” Captain Ahab was a group born out of post 9-11 nationalism and moroseness of a nation, “What Captain Ahab was doing was acceptable in the circles we traveled in because everyone had gotten so conservative and boring, but here was a group of young people with no genre, making art a safe space for dangerous ideas, defending that idea at a point in America where people were questioning the way they expressed themselves,” Miller says.

“The modus operandi of Deathbomb is punk as a way of being in the world, and not a type of music,” Hutson interjects. He’s undoubtedly the dissident in the group. He towers over me in height, and he’s ruggedly good looking. There are things going on behind his piercing eyes. He doesn’t speak much, but when he does it’s profound. I’d heard of his work, but he surprised me with his in-depth knowledge of hiphop, noise, and punk. “If you listen to most punk now, it’s the most conservative, closed-minded shit you've ever heard. You can be punk now and not make punk music.”

His comment reminds me that I.E.’s work is a dead ringer for early-'80s LA punk. A self-proclaimed chola rave queen, she could be the child of Alice Bag, and her music recalls The Cholitas and X. “I do listen to that music, but I grew up on hiphop. I’m also big into Euro dance music and new wave.” The great thing about her album Most Importantly is that she reminds every hard-on about the absolutely horrid world women grow up in without a single sad face emoji. Instead she uses chip tunes, noise music, and hiphop to get her truly hilarious, truly feminist point of view through to you.

Besides I.E. and Brian Miller, everyone gathered is into theater or came from that background. Some went to UCLA, Daveed went to Brown, Christina is a well-known puppeteer in Los Angeles and has directed several videos for clipping. and other Deathbomb artists. “We studied very traditional American theater, what can you say about that? It makes you creative in a very production-driven way. It affects the way we all work together.”

“It’s also a style of art we’re all interested in, but realized soon into school that we really don’t ever want to make,” Snipes jokes. “We learned how to do all this by doing Captain Ahab (Snipes' earlier group). It took us a long time to learn how to brand things, how to package things,” Cristina adds.

Miller brings up the point that the improvisational ability members possess affects their love for their unorthodox performances and musical styles. That the training to recognize others' cues can direct you on stage—theater or musical—and take you somewhere further than just a recital of recorded work, can really bring the music to life. Snipes talks a bit about how theater relates to composing music: “What is the idea of this entire play, and does every decision you’re making support this one very simple idea. If it does not, you cut it, successful theater is based on this.” Hutson concludes, “The only other idea I would add is that what theater did for us, for Captain Ahab, and for clipping. is that we have no concern for authenticity. Lying is a performance; we lie a lot.”

“There is nothing explicitly sexist about speaking over rhythms.” William Hutson says, laughing. “You don’t have to say monstrous things about women as a rapper, they just generally do for some reason.”

I’d just brought up my theory that hiphop as a movement is incorrectly labeled as sexist. That people, rappers, as individuals can be called out for their actions or their speech, but the movement cannot. People don’t attack thespianism as a whole because the actor who plays Don Draper on Mad Men gives a sexist performance on TV, so what’s the difference with rap?

“Some people don't understand that. People do think that musicians go on stage and are the ultimate version of themselves,” Brian Miller adds.

People imprint themselves on music like no other art form. clipping.’s work especially has been regarded as more aggro than deserved (in my opinion) and Bill Hutson helps me understand why when I bring up the fact that I have feelings for abstract art (I feel as emotional at the lines of Judd and paint blotches of a Frankenthaler as I do at good music), yet I still understand the painters and sculptors of that period were not referencing me.

“But even abstract art was sold on the rugged individualism of Pollock as some cowboy. With the artist as the character and not the art,” Hutson interjects. “It’s all a bunch of bullshit to me,” he says, before shrinking back into his shoulders and staring into his wine.

Jonathan Snipes explains: “I always thought of my Captain Ahab lyrics as a sort of musical timbre. I responded to Miami Bass and Detroit Ghetto House music. I liked the drum machine sounds, the way they were programmed, the synths, and the words. The words in those songs just so happen to mostly be about women’s butts.” (Everyone at the table giggles. it makes sense, sort of.) “It wouldn’t be that type of music if we weren’t talking about women’s butts. The words you’re using can be a timbre choice. I think the same is true for clipping. I don’t feel like I’m allowed to say that, because I don’t write the words for clipping., but I would say that’s true of that band as well.”

He brings up a point I’d been dying to talk about. The lyrical choices on clipping.’s midcity are massive in terms of word placement. It’s clear that Daveed Diggs’ lyrics weren’t written into a cell phone that evening and recorded once, never to be edited. His story rhymes and raps are deliciously grotesque poetry about lost lovers, affection for the city, and blind loyalty to the street, that are as visually stimulating as they are precisely spit. I read that they'd been choosy about his phrasing. “Rappers don’t have editors," Hutson says, “except for Daveed, he’s been amazed that we have opinions, and will ask us which line or word is better, but that certainly is not how rap music gets written anywhere else.” The amazing thing about clipping.’s experimental hiphop is also the fact that Daveed seems to stand alone while rhyming, as the electro-acoustic interference and noise he raps over is not necessarily providing him with a rhythm, many times he is the rhythm, and the noise is the lead, but before I get to lost in my love for minimalism, the maximalist at the table speaks up.

tik///tik (Steven Cano) has been a noise-music fixture around Los Angeles for years. If there is a true noise music maker at the table it’s him. I’m surprised though, to learn that the vocals and vocal samples in his music are his own. Miller regards him as the most soulful musician of the group because of his earnestness, and I’m surprised at his personality in person. He's congenial, almost diminutive. He speaks quietly for having made such noisy music over the years. My favorite works of his Jewel Play, and Every Hex Is A Hearthache wrap his pop vocals in visqueen and duct tape and toss the kidnapped, dead idea of pop into a chilly slough. “I might push the volume, but there’s always something in the middle of that maelstrom of sounds going around in my music. There’ll be a horrible torch song right in the middle of my songs, and that’s what I’m worried about,” he says, quietly, almost unsure of himself.

If you hear his music you might be as shocked as me that he’s making pop tunes. His inspirations:

“I relate to Miami Freestyle, I used to steal my brothers N.W.A., I listened to LL Cool J, that’s kind of what attracted me to Captain Ahab (Snipes’ early group) originally because I like that Miami ‘booty’ sound.”

Brian says: “The first time he really struck me was on his tracks during ‘The Fruit Will Rot Vol. 3’; everyone else delivered really harsh noise for that compilation. Steven turned in these tracks that could have used vocal samples from pop acts from the '60s or something, but they weren’t, they’re actually Steven singing. I’ve never heard anything else like it." Then he sums up tik///tik in a single sentence, putting it in a way I'd never thought of: "How many people out there are like ‘Gee, I sure wish there was a group that bridged the gap between my harsh noise records and my soul collection?”

Steven's reply: “It’s part of the LA thing, though. I’m fine sitting between all these people. I’ve been on tour with them. Nothing is weird to me. To me I.E. has written the noisiest punk-rock track ever. Genre doesn’t exist.”

Speaking of LA acts going way back, and The Fruit Will Rot Vol.3 gives me the chance to ask Bill Hutson of what I’d heard was the genesis of clipping, his early work as a noise act called Beach Balls.

“It was a joke about all of the LA harsh noise acts at that time, people were ripping off one artist known as Pedestrian Deposit. Everyone’s music was coming out as blasts of harsh noise between ambient music cuts. I made the joke that I was going to do that in my band Beach Balls, but with harsh noise and rap a cappellas. It was just an attempt to re-format what everyone was doing by ripping off one guy. But instead of copying we’d switch out one of the genres for something I related to.”

The DNA of clipping. can be traced all the way back to that mixtape in which Bill uses a click track and a Ying Yang Twins sample to make a song called “Case Sensitivity” that takes the juvenile "whisper song" and turns it into an ominous hiphop adventure. Snipes recalls begging Hutson to form a band after seeing LA group Death Set play distorted radio-rap songs inbetween songs in their set. “I told him for years someone needed to do this as a band, combine noise and rap, and eventually I convinced him we should do it as a remix project. The first one we worked on was using an Insane Clown Posse a cappella.”

Hutson: “The reason I did all that, and I made all these songs that never came out, was because I was uncomfortable with the degree to which…it was a joke about taking these power electronic songs that are either explicitly or implicitly white-supremacist music, and I would beat match them with like Lil Wayne rapping over them. Because they were in the same tempo, and it was like, ‘these are two sounds I like and how do I deal with the fact that some of the music I like is really fucked up and I don’t agree with it’…” He goes on to rant about acts whose white-supremacist values seem to have been forgotten (or more likely not even researched) because their bands make for good buzz media.

Miller: “The idea was of negotiating between all the different types of music, and being able to touch base with them, but the culture at that time was not ok with us mixing those things. We mash things together so much that people don’t realize we love all these genres. You really have to listen to hear those things in there, the soul singing, Trina samples, J Mascis. We met because I once put out a very abstract tribute to Cash Money records, and I knew of Bill’s music, then wrote to him and found out we lived near each other. It was cool for us, but at the time it literally got me hate mail from people who thought we shouldn’t combine certain music and rap. Bill just happened to be into experimental music and hiphop like me.”

Hutson: “Very specifically, Cash Money records. When I was a kid I wanted to be a Cash Money Millionaire, and in 1998 I switched to wanting to be a No Limit Soldier,” he laughs.

As Brian points out, these things may sound like nothing weird at all now, but in ‘02 looked like a pretty defiant (read: punk) stance toward the standards of craven scenesters. Brian also previously put out a tribute compilation to No Limit records as well that asked bands to write songs around the idea of No Limit records. The DIY to stardom aspect of those labels are what inspired Deathbomb. Also the question of what it means to be a white person from suburban LA who loves southern gangster rap. The exploration, the experiment, was the point.

“Call it mysoginist, but those Southern labels supported more female acts at that time than any other label, I can name more female rappers from New Orleans than I can from any other city.” Earlier I mistakenly referred to Percy Miller (aka Master P, head of No Limit) as Patrick Miller, and Bill Hutson corrected me as soon as it came out of my mouth. I apologized. Dude is serious about his rap and hiphop.

What's the point of any music?

It would be taking advantage of the privilege of having so many experimental, electro-acoustic interference, musique concrète geeks in the same room to not ask: What is the point ? What is the point of music with little rhythm, few words, unrecognizable instruments? I look to the very intelligent members of this very noisy label for help.

“I might be the wrong person to answer that,” Steven Cano (aka tik///tik) says “when I’m making my music I feel like I’m Selena in the middle of everything. For me it’s another version of pop music, and that’s how I attack it. It doesn’t mean I don’t listen to other noise artists, but that’s how I know how to make music, that’s where it comes from”

“I love the sounds, personally. I find them exciting, and for me that’s all there needs to be is that the sounds are pleasing to my ears.” Jonathan Snipes says.

“What’s the point of any music?” Bill Hutson says, then crosses his legs and looks away and laughs.

But from I.E. comes something poignant as usual:

“The first time I heard these guys was over The Smell speakers and the hair stood up on my arms. I never knew what noise music was, but I kind of made it, and then when I was starting to become an artist I had the same feelings as these guys, like maybe everyone was a white supremacist or something, and being part of a group meant just getting together and collectively hating things. I tried to hang with punkers, because where I grew up hiphop was the music of gangsters, and though hiphop was my whole life, I didn’t want to be a gangster. Then I met these guys and they had this funky way of liking everything and playing it loud. I didn’t know what noise was but I saw tik///tik, and Beach Balls, and I just felt awesome. I felt so happy that there were people who didn’t discount anything or put things in a box”.

The conversation drifts and I let it. Most of these people haven't sat in the same room together in some time, and combined they have decades of experience making art. Clearly we have music in common, but just like I love to talk about Seattle, they love to talk about LA.

Hutson: “There’s also sort of an assumption—and you see this a lot when you play places that aren’t big cities or you interact with people who like noise but aren’t from big cities—there’s an idea that you’re making an extreme kind of music because you don’t like the music that the guys who picked on you in high school listened to. There’s an assumption that if you like noise that you dislike other things, like because you make this music you don’t like Mandy Moore, but the opposite is true in LA; you can do both.”

Snipes: “There’s so many weird nested little music scenes here that you’re not just part of the 'music scene' there’s a place for you here no matter what you do."

Brian Miller: “What’s been hard to find outside of LA is a scene of people who don’t play music that sounds the same, where the people are related by more abstract concepts and will share the same bill. There is a place for lots of acts who are not appropriate bar-rock acts.”

Hutson: “I’m interested in the character of underground LA music. For instance, what are you doing making music for a very small group of people in the city that produces mainstream culture for most of the world? You can’t be sanctimonious about it, either, because no one here is actually proud of LA. This is a city that when you leave and tell someone where you’re from they have no problem telling you how much they fuckin' hate it. Then they go home turn on their TV and look at my fuckin' city”.

Snipes: “I love LA for that reason. I’m scared of civic pride anyway. It’s like nationalism to me. I love a lot of cities, but I love Los Angeles because we don’t have that. Being from LA is neutral in a weird way, because we’re all at odds with our environment.”

Hutson: “Talking to Sub Pop and playing in Seattle at the Silver Jubilee I couldn’t believe how much un-ironic pride there was in something so simple as a little record label. The whole city stopped, you guys flew a Sub Pop flag from the Space Needle! I saw the mayor walking around the concert in a Sub Pop T-shirt. I just couldn't imagine that happening in LA. Could you imagine a street fair and our landmarks flying flags because we’re proud we made Transformers 3 this year? I love the sincere pride in a cultural product from the city. I told everyone that while I was there.”

This is the genesis of Deathbomb’s latest group project, True Neutral Crew, a trio consisting of Brian Miller, Daveed Diggs, and I.E. that seeks to make music from a truly neutral standpoint. Their original idea for their #Monsanto EP was an album written from Monsanto's point of view. Thankfully, being truly neutral, they made what came out—a smartly written, well-rhymed noise-rap record. But the very structure of the group is representative of their isolation, their lack of an option to have an opinion about. Their refusal to participate in a broken system.

We talked a bit about the "instruments" that Deathbomb artists use. Tik///Tik used a flower electronics brand synth called a little boy blue. The designer, Jessica Rylan, is well respected in the group (indeed, in noise-music circles in general), she did graduate work at Stanford, and she’s now at MIT, but has spent time on tour with Deathbomb happily repairing the gear they smashed, and playing music with them. Christina Bercovitz filmed clipping.'s videos with a Betamax camcorder, and a mini DV recorder after finding the Betamax camcorder in Jonathan's dad’s attic. Their ideas for a dirtier, noisier visual aesthetic are from talking to Hutson and Diggs about BET Uncut, a show that Daveed and Bill stayed up late watching in high school. All the videos from that era were prior to HDTV or any really clear video. I’m surprised to find, however that for all the noises one can find on their collective records, no one is really a gear head. I’m looking around the apartment and see only records and turntables. Jonathan does mention that since clipping. has become associated with Sub Pop they've had access to more resources than every before.

I ask Brian what the future holds, since clipping. is now signed to Sub Pop, and how he feels about them leaving Deathbomb Arc.

Miller: “I’m not afraid to stand up for what I want. I’ve known Jonathan long enough that I’m not embarrassed to ask for what I care about, but I’ve also been invested in his music for over a decade now, so I want to see amazing things happen for him. I have asked if they could do another album on Deathbomb Arc, as well.”

Snipes: “It’s in our contract, the contract is pretty exclusive, like any record contract, but initially it was that we would make music exclusively for Sub Pop, unless it was for a film, because they knew that Bill and I had done a film score together and I had done film scores on my own. And then we were like, we should be able to do a record for Brian, and they said okay. Sub Pop has given us absolutely everything we’ve asked for. I’ve yet to hear anyone say anything bad about them.”

Sub Pop actually found out about clipping. because Miller emailed someone in the label's IT department looking for a place to book a show. He shared midcity and it made such an impression that they got signed. I ask Snipes if he has a plan for the new music.

“Nah.” Everyone laughs uproariously.

“We probably can’t talk too much about it. It’s basically done. It exists, we love it, and if you turn that recorder off we’ll play you a track downstairs.”

I’ve never shut a recorder off faster in my life. I found my way downstairs into clipping.'s studio and started eying gear. I sat down at the back of the small narrow space while Jonathan and Bill decided what to play. In the end, I got to hear two tracks. “They’re too novel,” argued Bill. “They’re all novel,” laughed Jonathan. Jonathan Snipes, Cristina Bercovitz, Bill Hutson, Margot Padilla, Stephen Cano, Brian Miller

What I heard first might take me some time to process. It felt open, concise, like Jay Z's early work, but drugged and thugged, as if that same work had been produced by DJ Screw. The second track I heard absolutely blew my mind. The curatorial genius of Brian Miller, the film score experience of Jonathan Snipes, the distinct taste and unrelenting dedication to sound of William Hutson, and the writing and rapping abilities of Daveed Diggs came through like a rejuvenating force. What began as “harsh noise”—perhaps the harshest particular noise I can think of—becomes a gorgeous heavenly chord when matched with other harsh (very common) noises up the scale. Like I.E. said, the hair stood up on my arms, things were way out of the box, nothing (not even the noises we're ungrateful we hear) had been discounted, I felt like I belonged. Everyone in the room listened like they were investigating the music. I felt the electronic warmth of the wall of modular synths, MIDI controllers, drum machines and every kind of keyboard you can name. The noise drove through the room, mingled with the flesh, and even Bill and Jonathan enjoyed what they had made. When it was over I.E. looked me dead in the eye and offered to sell me weed, I laughed, because music is my shit, and talking to the folks at Deathbomb Arc already had me high as one can get.

For a good primer with what's going on over at Deathbomb Arc, pick up their new compilation called EVIL. Sales from it go to supporting anti-debt charity rolling jubilee and it features ridiculous spitters like Signor Benedick The Moor and VIPER VENOM, plus gorgeous noise from Sissy Cobb and Dreamcrusher.

#deathbomb arc #deathbomb #clipping #dis fantasy #tik///tik #sean jewell

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