jizzjizzmonkey

[benisasoftboi]

So on Friday night I made this post:

Which I expected that maybe ten, twenty people would see? I didn’t think anyone would really care about a joke about something so old and obscure, and it would just get lost in all the Detective Pikachu stuff. Instead, within five hours, it had become my most popular post. 

I know it’s still not a huge number, but it’s still way more attention than I’ve ever received for anything... ever, so I’ve been thinking about Pokemon Live a lot since. Which has been bad, because this morning I had to take a very important political economy exam, and instead of thinking about Bretton Woods or Marx, I was thinking about Pokemon. I nearly referred to my country’s former Prime Minister as ‘David Camerupt’. It wasn’t good. 

I need to expunge my thoughts. Specifically, my thoughts on one topic in particular - the way this show treats, or rather mistreats, the character of James. Because I truly, truly love Pokemon Live. I do. It’s one of the most glorious dumpster fires I’ve ever had the pleasure of watching a poor quality recording of. But this is the one thing I definitely don’t love.

I don’t expect anyone to read this. I mean, I said that last time, but this time I really don’t. It’s a long essay on a niche topic, and it isn’t even funny. But on the off chance it’ll get you to stick with me, I promise that there will be pictures of Andrew Rannells cuddling puppies at the end. 

So,

How Pokemon Live Mistreats James, and Why It Matters:

The Mandatory Mentioning of The Actor

I’m guessing anyone who knows anything about Pokemon Live also knows that now highly successful, Tony-nominated Broadway and television actor Andrew Rannells was in it playing James. And if you didn’t, now you know why I’ve mentioned him twice now. I’m a big fan of this guy.

He hated this role. Absolutely despised it. Apparently the show was a miserable environment to work in for everyone. The costumes were uncomfortable. The audiences were unbearable. There’s a making of for this show, which can be viewed on YouTube in its entirety - I’ve watched the whole thing more than once and you can see in every cast member’s eyes - there’s no light there. They’re all dead inside. It’s almost heartbreaking.  

To be clear - he’s the only one of these people I, or anyone else I’ve seen, ever makes fun of for this show. And that’s because he’s fine. He’s fine! He’s done very well for himself and talking about it won’t hurt his career, and there’s just always something really hilarious about seeing very successful people in terrible things, isn’t there? Chris Hemsworth in Saddle Club, Zach Braff in Babysitter’s Club, literally everyone in Foodfight. It’s not malicious or in any way intended to be punching down - just poking fun at a really good actor’s really bad early work. It’s not even really making fun of him, more that he was in this.

But there is one reason he hated the role that I don’t find so funny, and that’s that he felt the people that wrote the thing had made James a grossly over-the-top, borderline-to-over-the-line (depending on your tolerance) homophobic stereotype. And... yeah. They undeniably did that.  

Rannells understandably dislikes the character, and to be honest - that makes me a little sad. Knowing that musical!James is probably the only version of the character he (and likely a lot of parents who saw the show, and other cast members) ever really encountered, that’s a huge shame. Because if we go back to the anime the musical’s based on, the one I, and many others, grew up on, James is quite different. In fact, I personally consider anime!James to be the best character in the entire Pokemon franchise.

Why We Love Team Rocket 

Just want to quickly note that I can only discuss the anime up to about halfway through the Sinnoh seasons - I’ve seen basically nothing after that. My childhood was some original series, a lot of Hoenn, and a fair bit of early Sinnoh (somehow skipped over Johto almost entirely, don’t really know how that happened). If any of this is now not accurate, well - it’s not really relevant for this discussion anyway, but I still apologise. 

The Team Rocket trio, James especially, is, pretty queer-coded. This is not unusual for villainous characters in children’s media before the 2010s, so much so that I would guess that a lot of the time it wasn’t even being done deliberately - it was just that common a trope that it was all but expected your show would have at least one flamboyantly effeminate, villainous bloke. And James - especially early James - has no qualms about showing his feminine side:

Notice that Jessie adopts masculine attire to match - she doesn’t always do this, but I like that they have her at least do it sometimes. 

Team Rocket’s disguises became less and less likely to involve cross dressing as the show went on, but it’s one of the things best remembered about them. James also has a strong association with roses, and possesses several other feminine mannerisms. Arguably he’s far more downplayed than most other villains of the type (even more so than others present in Pokemon - Harley’s a great example, who was also, coincidentally, played by Andrew Rannells), but it’s present. And while yes, obviously in real life none of those things should be taken as definitive indication of a person’s orientation, and straight men are perfectly capable of twirling around in pretty dresses - in fact, I fully endorse it - this is fiction. Specifically fiction from the early 2000s. And in fiction, certain things are intended as visual cues and shorthand.

So I really, really doubt we were supposed to think James is entirely straight (I personally have always thought that he’s actually bi, but I’m not opposed to alternatives). You could make the case, but like. Come on.

But how is this different from musical!James? And how is this different than any other villain like him? Very simple. Anime!James has depth.

Not a tremendous amount. It’s a children’s cartoon made to cash in on a popular video game. But he, and Jessie and Meowth, are among the most well-rounded characters in the show’s cast, in a way that’s actually very relatable. It helps that they aren’t actually very villainous people most of the time. I know so many people who grew up with the show that loved, rooted for, and identified with them over the actual protagonists, by a mile. Myself included - I can remember two separate James-centered episodes that made me cry as a kid.

And these three are particularly beloved by young LGBT adults. We know from their backstories that they all came from rough circumstances - Jessie desperately poor and struggling to get anywhere or be recognised, Meowth having changed a fundamental part of himself in attempt to gain love and instead being ostracised for it, and James running away from an abusive household. They’re three people (/Pokemon) who felt alone in the world, that have now found each other. And whether you view Jessie and James’s relationship as romantic, friendship, or found family, it’s far more compelling than any other relationship in the show, at least to me. They may be criminals, but it’s not hard to see why some kids - especially the kids who might already feel like they’re just a bit different - would latch on to them. 

Even if you didn’t know James’s backstory, he still has a character. He’s frequently shown to be the most moral of the trio, he has a stronger bond with Pokemon than honestly even Ash - even more of a running gag than his flamboyance is the fact that his pets love him so much that they just wanna hug him all the time, with inevitable slapstick consequences - he has dorky hobbies like bottle cap collecting, and he’s even occasionally shown to be a bit of an environmentalist. Yes he is in many ways a stereotypical camp villain - but he’s also more. And that’s why we love him. 

And I’d bet anything there probably were some little boys who watched the show and saw James and thought ‘that guy’s like me!’. And yeah, that guy is a villain, because god forbid a maybe-gay character also be a good guy. But more than any other character like him that I’ve seen, he’s also always been a person. And considering how most of the other options kids like that had at the time were either one-note villains or nothing (and even now it’s sparse pickings) - that’s valuable.

And then there’s Pokemon Live.

*long, long sigh*

Oh, Pokemon Live. You beautiful disaster. 

What did you do to my boy?

Is there nothing that better encapsulates it than the bit where James asks Giovanni where Mecha MewTwo (...I know) “stands on campaign finance reform, social security and Don’t Ask Don’t Tell”?

First off, I like that James is politically engaged! Good for him! Completely out of character, but still!

And I do find this line incredibly funny, but I want to be very clear about why I find it funny. The line is funny because referencing a real world American discriminatory military policy in a Pokemon musical is just... so completely absurd. It’s super jarring and when I first watched it, I had to pause it so I could stop laughing about the possible implications of Pokemon Don’t Ask Don’t Tell. Is there a Pokemon American military then? Pokemon Democrats and Pokemon Republicans? Pokemon Bill Clinton? POKEMONICA LEWINSKY???

It just raises so many questions.

Also Rannells’s delivery is incredible.

But the thing is, that’s not the joke here, is it? The actual ‘joke’ is ‘HA HA HE’S GAY! HE SAID THAT BECAUSE HE’S GAY!’. Which gets even worse when you think about it and realise that this situation is really just a gay man (I don’t think there’s any doubt about it in this particular incarnation, is there) asking his boss whether or not he thinks people like him should be discriminated against. How is that a joke? (The answer is that it isn’t.)

Which makes it that much more inappropriate for a children’s Pokemon musical, which is sort of, in a dark way, almost funnier. It’s that juxtaposition of something kiddy and cute with something that definitely isn’t. 

But hilarious as I find it, given the chance to I would go back and get rid of that line. I dislike what it implies - that being a gay man is nothing more than a punchline - more than I like the absurdist humour. 

And that’s the whole problem with how they chose to write James for this whole thing. They took a really good example of how you can have this type of villain while also making him a good character, and they turned him into nothing more than a stereotype.

You could say ‘but it’s a much shorter story than a TV show! They wouldn’t have time to make him nuanced!’, to which I would say 1. He doesn’t have to be nuanced, he just has to be slightly more than I’M GAY and 2. There have been 21 Pokemon movies at time of writing, two of which came out before Pokemon Live did. None of them, at least of the ones I’ve seen, committed any character assassinations like this. The first one even had another baffling reference to real world America:

That’s so out of nowhere and silly that I laugh every time I think about it (the Minnesota Vikings are an American football team, if you didn’t know). See, Pokemon Live! It’s possible to do jokes like that which aren’t at the expense of a minority group! Wow!

The anime even has examples of how you can do the gay jokes and make them funny. They are very rare in the show (beyond the humour of James’s personality), but remember the whole Flaming Moltres joke? It’s actually great. It’s a couple of good puns, it’s possibly Rachael Lillis’s best delivery in the whole show, and, just for confirmation, I’ve shown the clip to a few actual gay men in my life, who all said that they think that it’s very funny, and totally non-offensive. The joke is still ‘lol he gay’, but it’s also a neat play on words, it feels very in character for both of them, and it doesn’t have the same malicious, taunt-y feel of the Pokemon Live ‘joke’.

Look, the Pokemon anime is far from perfect. There are lots of moments where you have to grit your teeth and remember when it came out. But it still gave us a really, really wonderful character, and he absolutely deserved better than this.

Do I Still Love Pokemon Live?

Yes.

Even with all of this, it’s still an absolute masterpiece of unintentional hilarity. In some ways, this makes it funnier. Of course, of course, it couldn’t just have terrible costumes and a nonsense plot and really, really bad rapping - of course it’s also kind of offensive. Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be.

And I would love to talk about all the things I genuinely love about it, and maybe I will one day.

But the thing is, it’s also representative of everything that was wrong with gay-coded characters at the time, something that the show it’s based on came way closer to handling well than most other stuff of its time, no less. And that, as a whole, isn’t funny at all.

So I want to be clear. I love laughing at this show because it’s a weirdly earnest cash-in musical for something that definitely shouldn’t be a musical, with endless bizarre, quotable moments - not because the way it warped this character is actually funny. I love laughing at the character’s lines because they’re absurd choices for a Pokemon musical - not because they’re in any way funny on their own. And I love laughing at the fact that Andrew Rannells was in it because he is so much better than this - not because this is what I think he should be reduced to.

And speaking of, here’s those pictures I promised:

I love one man.

[57greenstreet]

Gossip Guy podcast with Willem De Schryver

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yYjtRYOGS00

translated by @jackfrostsander @bruisingknees @lblogss @yousmina and me :)

-

E: I do have another present for you.

W: Oei oei oei, presents.

E: I do that every week. I give something to my guest of the week.

W: Oei oei oei. Do I slide it?

E: Here in the front is a flap that you have to fold upwards…

[Intro]

E: Wassup people, welcome to a new episode of the Gossip Guy podcast. My name is Ender Scholtens and today I’m here with Willem De Schryver. Everything ok?

W: Sure sure (In Dutch sure is used as a confirmation to a question).

E: Is this your first podcast?

W: Yes, this is my first podcast.

E: Stress?

W: No, it will be fine, right? Relaxed.

E: I don’t know… (laughing). For the people who don’t recognize you, from where could they know you?

W: Hmmm, probably from the youth series WTFOCK where, in the third season, I play the role of Sander.

E: And we are allowed to talk about it in this podcast.

W: Yeah I also heard that. Yes, it’s over.

E: Was it a difficult chapter of your life to close?

W: Yes, I still clearly remember the last moment… Like really the last last scene at the sea… That was an emotional moment because you went through a lot as a group, you did a lot together, and emotional scenes, intimate scenes. But yes, I think, if I speak for the whole group that it was a goodbye to the series but not a goodbye from each other. We still keep in contact. Mainly through WhatsApp.

E: Yeah, the end of the series was beautiful. I sat next to my girlfriend when it just came online. Because there were a few scenes that we hadn’t seen yet and we were just watching them… And we refreshed and the last episode was online… The last piece was online… So, I thought… I really cried… It caused quite some emotions.

W: For many people… Also under the cast and even the extras that were present for that last scene… Even among them. I can remember that they got emotional because it really was over over. I think that we, WTFOCK, have been able to impact a lot of young people in Belgium. So, it’s beautiful… We closed it beautifully…

E: I don’t doubt that. I really liked the end. What is your favorite memory from your whole WTFOCK experience?

W: Hoh, hmmm. Do I have to choose one? Difficult to choose one… I think that the most enjoyable moments… At the end of each series… Almost… We were at the sea or in the Ardennes, as a group, for a vacation. Away together. And those moments… Away with the whole cast and crew… Being away for a whole weekend. And in the evening, talking late into the night and that creates a special connection and I think that, in general, was the most enjoyable… Yes, it affects me… You share, as a young person, a common dream or something we want to realize as an actor to succeed and everyone who works so hard for that… That’s nice to see.

E: I recently talked to Veerle and I know that if she sees Nora, like somewhere, say at a party… Then they stay together for the whole evening… Do you have that? With who did you have the best connection throughout that whole experience?

W: Yes…

E: That doesn’t mean that the rest is not chill or so…

W: No the rest is all stupid… There’s only one person… I hate you all! (joking) No! Yes, hmmm, I think that I definitely have the best connection with Willem. Just because we have been through a lot… I always compare the WTFOCK crew a bit to my own friend group, aside from the cast. I mean, I know to whom I can go for what. I know I can go to some if I feel sad, to talk and I know who I can go to to have a laugh. And who I can go to to have a general chat. And everyone has their qualities or like their own aura around them… Where I love to hang around. So, it differs from person to person. So, it’s hard to choose one person but Willem then in the sense that, if you jump naked together in a swimming pool and if you have intimate scenes together… That creates a connection, of course. So, yes, if I have to choose one person…

E: Is there a barrier that you have to overcome to play such scenes? Because they are very intimate, indeed. And I, personally, couldn’t imagine… I can’t act… But, to empathize with a role… To play such scenes… Is that difficult for you?

W: Huh, yes, that’s a question I get often. I mean like… Yeah and you have to empathize with that character… But yes, you step into that project with a certain professionalism and you say “okay, we are going to create a story and bring it to the public with certain values and that we want to tell something and show something” …So, yes, you don’t really think about it. So, it’s not like I thought “Ooooo, I am kissing with a boy but I am interested in girls”. That was not a problem for me because it really is about telling the story and making that together and if the story requires that then you just completely go for it.

E: That’s cool. What are your future acting ambitions? You now have played in a series, is that something you want to do more in the future or do you like theatre more or movie or…

W: I find it difficult to choose between theatre and film, for example. After WTFOCK I played in Déjà Vu, which you can see on Streamz and later this year on Channel 4… And I study theatre at KASK. And I notice the difference, due to the recordings, I am really in the field and I am busy and I work, while at school I learn new things about theatre… So, in my opinion I have more experience in television work because I actually have done projects for that and I haven’t yet for theatre, which is still school and learning. So, I think it’s currently hard to choose but I think, maybe it’s a cliché answer, but the combination is maybe ideal, of course. But I am still exploring and I will see how it goes…

7:02

E: What is your favorite food?

W: My favorite food?

E: Yes.

W: Hmmmm, in the past I was really a basic guy… Like spaghetti bolognese or so… But now, generally after my exams, I go to a restaurant with my grandma. She always buys. That’s always amazing. I am a fan. And I always take steak tartare with fries. That remains a bit of a guilty pleasure.

E: How long, do you think, would it take you to eat five full plates of spaghetti bolognese?

W: Hoh, hmmm. The thing is, my stomach is rather small…

E: Small?

W: I think that I would have to schedule in… Okay, after a certain time I would have to throw up and then eating further…

E: You’re allowed to take a break. You’re allowed to say… Okay, I take a few days…

W: No, no, not that…

E: You’re going to do it in a day?

W: Look, two plates… Three if I really push…

E: You get preparation time so you know like a week before… So, you can like…

W: Train yourself?

E: Yes, train…

W: Hoh, alee say about four hours…

E: Four hours?! Five plates, he? Like five really big plates…

W: Yeah but yeah, four minutes… I am exaggerating… Let’s say a day… In a day five plates…

E: Ok, that should work. Then you basically have every meal… Breakfast… Lunch… Dinner… and in between… pasta…

W: Pasta as breakfast…

E: One day should definitely be feasible.

W: Yes, indeed.

8:49

E: What is, according to you, the reason you were placed on this planet?

W: Fuck (laughs).

E: Existential crisis, okay? Have you never thought about what the purpose of life is and what…

W: Yes, certainly… Hmmm, I'm someone who worries a lot. When I'm in bed in the evening I start to think about questions like that and then I think “what am I doing? Willem… where do I want to go to and…” Hmmm, why was I put on this planet? Hmmmm… (speechless followed by laughing). This is really bad… It’s like I don’t value myself…

E: Noooo, but I didn’t expect a deep philosophical answer. Well, if you had one… really good but…

W: Okay I’m going to think about my philosophical answer… but no. If you want… No! Yes, now I'm really going to sound philosophical but… (crosstalk) Everyone who is on earth has a certain reason to be here and everyone… I for example have that… I really feel that… I never liked going to school. Especially, in lower and high school. I… I actually, on purpose, put my fingers in my throat in the morning to throw up…

E: Wow, that’s heavy…

W: And then going downstairs to say “papa I’m ill, can I stay home?” I don’t know why but that whole system… Sitting behind a desk all day… And those classes… that was not for me. And then I discovered my passion for acting and discovered that it really suited me. And that’s the thing… A lot of people often ask me like “how did you start?” and “I also would like to do that and where do I start and I have been rejected does that mean I am not good enough?” but I think that sometimes you shouldn’t rush to find your passion. It can take longer then you would like it to take. I think that if you too intensively search for "what am I good at?" and “I have to find something that I am good at” and… For me that’s happened unexpectedly. I did take acting classes on Wednesday afternoons after school and I kind of got into it like that… I think it differs for everyone and that everyone has their own purpose here on earth.

E: And would you say your purpose is acting?

W: Yeah…

E: There isn’t a right answer but how does it feel for you at the moment? Is that the thing you love doing the most or do you see yourself doing for a long time?

W: The thing is… I’m a person who gets tired of things very quickly. I’ve had a lot of hobbies.

E: So maybe next week you want to garden or something?

W: No, no I wouldn’t say that. No the thing is, with acting that isn’t the case. Since I was twelve… well first on amateur level…

E: How old are you now?

W: 19.

E: Oh wow I thought you were my age. 19… damn bro you’re three years younger than me.

W: 2001 represent.

E: That’s literally… you’re the same age as my brother! What the shit. Alright, no okay.

W: In November so almost 2002. I’m really a latecomer.

E: What?! You look like you’re the same age as me and everything.

12:14

W: But that’s honestly – thank you for saying that! I always used to be the “little guy.” None of the girls wanted to be with me cause they just thought I was cute.

E: I see.

W: And they came to me to talk about their love lives.

E: Oh, okay.

W: So I was always that guy who was like: “I’m in love with you.” “Oh, how cute! You’re so cute!” So I was always like: “Okay then, I’m never going to find anyone, I’m always going to stay… short. I’ll be all alone.” And then all of a sudden I –

E: Do you think height matters in regard to your chances with certain… people?

W: At this age I don’t think it does anymore, but I do think that – I think at – I just remember in high school that the romantic idea of what love was supposed to look like was very: a boy and a girl, and the boy has to be taller and stronger and bigger than the girl. But I think that now it’s more… I mean, at my age I’m convinced it’s more fluid than that, and it doesn’t have to be that way. So it doesn’t have to be an issue anymore.

E: But still, when you go on Twitter, short guys are still –

W: Yeah.

E: Totally annihilated.

W: I have notice – I have noticed – Yeah, it’s still… It’s still this… general thing that people get stuck on. Like: “Oh, a short dude. That’s not okay.” Or whatever.

E: Or like the guy has to be taller. But no, we’re – we’re – not… not all relationships… we’re really generalizing here. But I get what you mean.

W: Yeah.

E: No, it’s – I do think it’s still important. I think that when you’re, and this is really harsh, but that a lot of people look at you differently when you’re taller. I have this dude in my friend group, Louis Ledegen, and he’s close to 2 meters tall, and just some girls look at him and they just think that’s so… attractive or whatever. And I just can’t even imagine.

W: I don’t get that either.

E: That that makes them go like: “Wow!”

W: I was in the train just now and this dude walked by me and he was honestly like 2 meters tall and I was just thinking: “When you’re that tall, and you’re with…” I mean, the girl almost has to get on a stepping stool to reach him for a kiss! And girls are like – I mean, I’ve heard before that girls think it’s attractive when a man is really tall.

E: Yeah.

W: And yeah, I don’t know… I don’t totally get it.

E: No.

W: Maybe it’s cause I’m not that tall myself, that I’m like trying to protect myself and be all: “That’s not necessary!”

E: Yeah! If anybody knows the answer, do we, being shorter guys, have less of a chance?

W: Let us know, please.

14:53

E: Please let us know! We need some answers! Now in the show, wtFOCK, your hair’s a different color.

W: Yeah.

E: Yeah. Is that something… So that was actually – it wasn’t really blonde?

W: It was completely bleached.

E: Bleached.

W: It was more to the… But the thing is that they had to do it twice, cause the first time… I got there, for the first table read with the director and Willem [Herbots] and they were like: “Hey, Willem. We wanted to ask you something. We’d like to bleach your hair for the role.”

E: Yeah.

W: And I was like: “… Okay.”

E: Okay.

W: “And why?” No. “Just for the character and stuff.” So I was like: “Okay. That’s fine.” The thing is I had to be at the hairdresser for 4 hours for this.

E: Oh wow, heavy.

W: It was like this and this product, and it had to sit for a long time. It had to be bleached all over. And I got out of there the first time and I was completely yellow – but yellow like an egg.

E: Oh, shit!

W: And I… My mom dropped me off, and I texted her: “I’m done, will you come get me?” And I saw my mom approach and she just passed me by.

E: Oh wow.

W: She didn’t – she almost didn’t recognize me anymore. Like halfway - she was like – and then she was like: “Oh! Willem!” Like she hadn’t seen –

E: Oh shit.

W: That it was me. That I looked completely different. And then I arrived for another table read and Tom [Goris – director] was like: “Yeah… We’re not gonna go this route… This is too yellow.” So then I spent another 4 hours at the hairdresser. After that I had to be there for four hours almost every month. I did think it was cool to have bleached hair, but… You have to be at the hairdresser for so long, so that really wasn’t… my thing. I mean, I had some really cool moments with Mitch [Fabry – hair & make up wtFOCK]. Thanks, Mitch.

E: Would you ever dye your hair again?

W: Uhm.

E: Maybe another color?

W: Yeah, I don’t think so. I’m quite happy with my hair color, actually, I don’t know.

E: Alright.

W: Now it’s also like… Everyone always asks me: “So this is your natural hair color?”

E: Yeah.

W: And then I have to tell them: “Yeah.” And it’s like: “Oh, okay!” It’s this switch. But no, I’m happy with my hair. It’s fine.

17:03

E: I can also tell that you’ve got an earring? You can’t really tell on camera, but –

W: I’ll come a little closer [to the camera]. Yeah, I only got it recently, four weeks or something.

E: Yeah. Was it an impulsive, drunken decision, or something you wanted… for some time?

W: I’ve wanted it for a long time, but I was a little anxious about it like: “It’s not gonna look good on me,” and then after a while, a couple of months ago, I was like: “Fuck it, I’m just gonna do it.” And if it didn’t look good I could still just take it out, so it doesn’t really matter. But all in all I was pretty happy with it. My father, my parents – my mom: “Oh, so nice!!” And it was like – at first they give you a stud and then after four weeks you can change it to a hoop. And I really wanted a hoop, and I even asked the people in the (piercing) shop: “Can’t I please just get a hoop straight away?” And they were like: “No, sorry, it doesn’t work like that. For hygiene reasons that’s not okay.”

E: Okay.

W: But okay, so I had to wait four weeks and then eventually I could change it to the golden hoop. So I get home and the first thing my father said was: “Wow, you look like a douchebag.” That was the first thing out of his mouth, that I looked like a douchebag.

E: Is that the look you were going for?

W: No, not at all! Not at all!

E: I think it looks cool.

W: Thanks.

E: Cause a little while ago I wanted one, and so I put on my girlfriend’s earring – because even if your ear isn’t pierced it sticks a little –

W: Yeah.

E: And so I just put it on there for a day or something, and then I was like: “Okay, that’s quite enough.” I don’t know if I’d want it for longer than that. Recently I’ve been getting into rings and stuff though.

W: I wore rings for a long time, but I don’t have any anymore. I actually want – I like them too. But I have to –

18:47

E: If I’d known, I would’ve brought you a gift!

W: Go shopping. Goddamn!

E: I did bring you another gift though!

W: Another gift? Oei oei oei, gifts!

E: This is something I do every week,  I give my guest of the week something.

W: Oei oei oei. 

E: It’s just…

W: Do I just slide it –

E: There’s a little hatch over here, that you have to lift, and then you can just lift it like that. There we go.

W: There we go.

E: White hairspray.

W: If I’d want to go back to – there we have it. Too good.

E: It can be washed out really easily as well. So this way you don’t have to be at the hairdresser for like four hours. And then when you’re sick of it, you can just get rid of it again!

W: That was the thing… Thank you, by the way.

E: You’re very welcome.

W: Now I can go back – Now I can go back to my past life. No, that was the thing as well. People who – people who - after wtFOCK came online, people really recognized me with the white hair. I mean, it’s pretty noticeable, when I’m walking through Ghent station – if someone with bleached hair. I mean, if you watch the show, I can imagine that when you see someone with bleached hair, you immediately connect the two and think: “Oh, that could be him.” And then you run in to some people who ask for pictures. After that my hair was really short, cause the people from Déja-Vu were like: “We’re not gonna do this, just go back to your natural hair color.” So I cut it all off, and there was this time where… nobody came to talk to me anymore. I was able to just be myself again. It was as if – looking back on it, it was actually really nice that for wtFOCK I was able to completely get into a different character with different hair. And the first time I got rid of the hair I really noticed that was no longer being associated with the character.

E: Hannah Montana vibes! Your hair changes color and nobody knows who you are anymore.

W: “Who are you?”

E: “Who the fuck are you?!”

W: “Does anybody want to take pictures with me? It’s me! It’s me! I swear!”

E: “I’m that dude from wtFOCK! I’m that dude from wtFOCK!”

W: So if people don’t recognize me anymore I can just… *pshhht* in the morning.

E: Exactly! If you want to take some more pictures, you can just…

W: No, no. That’s fine. No, yeah.

E: It’s kind of crazy, actually. Because, honestly? The very first time I saw a flash of you, with this hair color, I also thought: “I recognize you from somewhere…” But I think I’d already gotten in contact with you through social [media] and I didn’t put two and two together that you…

W: Yeah.

E: “Aaah!”

W: “Aaah! You’re that guy!”

E: Yeah, so…

W: But that’s the whole thing. If someone recognizes me, which doesn’t happen that often by the way, it’s always – I think it’s funny to be like: “No, that’s not me.”

E: No.

W: People really start doubting themselves, it’s very: “Uhm, can I ask you a question? Are you that guy from wtFock?” “Me? No.”

E: “No!”

W: “That’s not me.” And people will often be like: “Oh? What? But I recognize you…” That doubt on their faces is pretty funny but yeah, then I tell them it’s me.

E: Just the reaction of someone being like: “Huh, do I know you from somewhere?” “Do you watch porn?”

W: The confrontation.

E: “Oh… qmdkjg.” And it’d be even better if the parents were right there as well. “Argh!”

W: “Yes, Jürgen, care to explain yourself, young man?”

E: No, it’s just funny to joke about. But you’ve never – Do you just get: “Hey, are you that guy from wtFOCK?” Or have people also asked you: “Do I know you from somewhere?” Or: “What do I know you from?”

W: Yeah, it depends. The thing is – I go to school in Ghent and when the [popular place where college students go out] was still open before Covid-19, not that I went there often because I didn’t really like it there –

E: No.

W: - in the sense that the combination of young people who –

E: Watch wtFOCK.

W: - watch wtFOCK and alcohol – and people who’ve had alcohol to drink –

E: And are horny?

W: - their limits or boundaries are just gone. “Oh my god!!! You’re that dude from wtFOCK!! Can I kiss you??” Things like that!

E: Oh, fuck!

W: And I was really like: “Okay…?” I’m just a regular dude and I’m trying – and I actually thought it was less annoying for myself, but I thought it was more disruptive for my friends. Like even when we were just walking down the street, we got recognized a couple of times, and I was just like: I just want to have fun with my friends, and not have to spend too much time thinking. That’s another thing I was subconsciously thinking about. Imagine I drink way too much.

E: Yeah.

W: And I end up in the gutter somewhere, and people start filming that… So yeah, that made… So because of that I spent more time in friends’ dorm rooms just having dorm parties.

E: And since your bleached hair is gone, have you gone to a party?

W: When my bleached hair was gone corona was already a thing so I haven’t been able to enjoy it. But it’s starting to come back [the parties] so that’s nice. I’m looking forward to… tomorrow I’m going-

E: Are you going as well?

W: Are you going to Plein Air by Fuse?

E: Tomorrow I’m going to Jaimie Lee who-

W: …Is going to DJ at three festivals.

E: Yeah at three festivals and I will be backstage I guess.

W: Okay.

E: One of those festivals?

W: Yeah I don’t know. I have tickets for Fuse Open Air in Brussels.

24:19

E: I honestly have no idea where I’m going. Anyway, I’m excited. And I always asked, what’s the first event you went to ever since it’s allowed? Did you go to We Can Dance festival?

W: No I was studying.

E: Was today your last exam or yesterday?

W: Yesterday was my last exam in the morning. I was stressing so much, because I thought I would fail, but eventually I think it went relatively well. If you’re watching professors, let me pass please. No I think it went well.

E: Are you someone who is stress resistant?

W: Uhh no.

E: No?

W: I let it take over my body.

E: You get physically unwell?

W: I will be laying in bed and I’m tossing and turning and sweating. And I think about how I’m not gonna pass tomorrow. And the combination with my worries is really not good. It makes me stay up really late. The thing is with stress resistant, I for example made my own play at high school about a kid with divorced parents for my final work and the whole audience was filled with my family and my parents. That’s pretty confronting to tell a story that’s also a little bit of their life and is pretty personal. I’m always stressed for things like that. Then it’s weird – from the first word I spoke I had a lot of stress and worries and the first sentence that I said was something like “I don’t know what to do”, and then it’s all of a sudden poofff. The train has left.

E: You said you didn’t really know what to do now.

W: That’s the first sentence of the text that I wrote and the moment I said that sentence I thought in my head “the train has left, there’s no way back now” and then the stress disappears automatically. But before the final rehearsal there was a moment that I was moving around heavily and I was throwing with chairs. And afterwards I had to pack moving boxes, which was okay. But from moving around and the combination of stress it made me almost gag in the box from the stress so I almost puked. So at these moments it gets pretty heavy.

E: Did other people notice or were you hiding it?

W: Yeah the final rehearsal was luckily not with an audience, but my teachers were like “Everything alright?” and I was like “Yeah I’m good. It’s a bit much”. But when it comes to stress, a lot of people always say – I’m even a little stressed right now actually.

E: Really?

W: Podcasts, oh no no.

E: Oh shit. You have to be (stressed)

W: A lot of pressure on my shoulder here. No, but a lot of people say that it doesn’t look like that I’m stressed even though I really am dying from all the stress.

E: Only now you can hide it really well. You should become an actor.

W: A lot of people have said that to me often, but it’s not my interest. Also not much work in the field.

E: That too, fuck. Are you someone who constantly pretends like you’re okay?

W: Yes.

E: Even when you have a lot of shit going on in your head and you’re processing other things?

W: I'm one person. One person?

E: "I'm one person" [laughs]

W: I am one person. No, but I'm someone who often keeps their stuff to themselves, so that I can listen to what others need.

28:15

E: That was my next question. You listen more to other people’s problems and you’re the person people come to with their problems?

W: I think, at least I hope, that a lot of my friends do know that they can always come to me for a talk or a phone call. I'm someone that will shove away their happiness for someone else, which isn’t always positive of course.

E: It is a beautiful characteristic, but it shouldn’t take over indeed.

W: In the past it has happened that I was falling apart, but I kept pushing it away, because I wanted to take care of someone else. I noticed this a lot during the divorce of my parents. My parents had a hard time with the divorce and I remember that I came home as a little boy and I saw my mom sitting and I felt the duty to comfort her and to be there for her, even though I was 8 or 9 years old. That’s not something you expect to do or think from an 8 year old. It really broke me and now I can openly speak about it, because I have had enough conversations with my parents about it, about how it was for me. And I made a play about it, as I told earlier, so it’s been a whole process and that has scarred me till at least my 16th. My parents got divorced when I was 5 or 6 years old. It took me a long time to open up because of that. I notice it a lot in previous relationships, that I walk away from fights, because I would find the confrontation too heavy to get into a fight and to discuss. The divorce and fights with my parents scarred me so hard that I didn’t want that again. I wanted everything to be rainbow and sunshine, but life doesn’t work like that. And that was partly a misconception from me, that I thought that a relationship had to be perfect, if there is a fight, then it’s not going well. Now I realize that fights are part of a relationship. And also part of steps you take into accepting each other, listening to each other and understanding each other. It’s needed for a stronger connection. You can’t, well you can, but in my eyes you can’t be with someone for a long time without ever having had a conflict. Even if it’s a discussion, because then you’re adapting too much to the other, and then you say okay, I’m adapting to the demands of her and I suppress my own things or things I want to do, only to avoid the discussion, and that’s something I learned. And that’s how everyone learns their own things along the way.

E: You still see it in the youth, those romantic movies, where everyone is so in love and it always ends with a kiss or something and it’s always good and then you think, this must be the case in real life. Why can’t I find Gabriella Montez for my Troy Bolton. Even though that was a shitty relationship too, they were constantly fighting. No, but that gives a wrong image about relationships and for other things because of movies. And the reality is just different.

32:16

W: Yes. I recently for the first time -this is kinda embarrassing because it’s a must see- watched The Notebook.

E: Me too! What did you think?

W: It has been a few weeks ago. Or a few weeks, maybe 3 or something.

E: I watched it last weekend.

W: I almost cried.

E: Really?

W: I’m a really emotional person. I can really cry. I can really get lost in a movie. “No not the puppy, why?!” Those things, where I think "Willem, act normal". But no it was a beautiful movie.

E: Yeah I have a different opinion, because I just fell asleep. I fell asleep, because it all went so slow, it started so slow. I didn’t even watch the kiss in the rain scene.

W: The moment. It’s in literally every romantic movie. In the rain, it happens everywhere.

Ender: Yeah mate, it’s such a cliché actually, but yeah.

W: I bet you that they’re just standing there with a garden hose.

E: Definitely.

W: It can’t be that they’re waiting, “is it gonna rain today? We need to do that scene now”.

33:27

E: Checking the rain alarm while everyone is inside. There are definitely sprinklers there. It’s in a lot of romantic movies. Now that we’re talking about it, the filming you did with wtFock, you sometimes had scenes outside. Here we have those (light) spots, I assume that you don’t carry them outside. How do you guys do that?

W: Sometimes we do have spots outside, but as long as the light from the sun is okay – with a binocular (telescope), well it’s not a binocular, it’s a round thing you can look through and with it they can determine the brightness of the sun and if the sun is too bright for the lightning they need, then it gets shielded, the same that is in front of your lamps. With that they can dim the lights. Or when there is not enough they use isomo plates, that’s really weird. Sometimes there are really intimate scenes in a series where it looks like it’s really close to the skin of the actors. There is a camera with a plate on it and a stick for the sound above it, it sometimes made it really hard for me to focus, because everyone is sitting there and the director and I’m like “yeah, okay okay”. So it takes a lot to get it all professional.

E: Was there a crazy moment where you forgot your lines? That you’re laying in bed and you’re like “which sentence do I have to say now?”

W: Yeah we’ve definitely had a lot of bloopers. Yeah forgetting lines or.. the thing is, as long as the director doesn’t say cut, you have to keep going. It’s a matter of "how do I improvise myself around this scene to get to the point we actually have to get to", because you have a scene and you have your lines, but if you forget something, then you do know the main lines of where the scene has to go to. You know the scene will end in a kiss or something and these subjects will be spoken about in the conversation, so when you forget your lines, you try to work your way through it as best as possible. And when the director says it wasn’t good, then we’ll do it again. I’ve had a lot of moments where I forgot my lines and I was laying in bed with Willem and we would look at each other and we’d know that I had to say something, but I was stuck, so there would be a 10 seconds silence, hoping for them to say cut. Yeah so those kinds of moments a lot or moments where I… I also had that with Déjà Vu. I remember… by the way it was amazing to work together with such big names as Natali Broods and Koen De Graeve. And Koen, lovely person, was kind of the father figure on set and we had a scene, next to the bed, a quite emotional scene. And the camera was focused on me, close up on my face. And I still remember that, the sound was going, everything, and Koen had just told a joke, or made a face that made me laugh. So, I had to laugh really hard, but I had to act very sad. It was an intense scene of goodbyes. All the time, starting to laugh about everything. I still remember for wtFock we made a video with bloopers and those are very fun to watch back.

37:03

E: Are those bloopers ever published somewhere online?

W: I don’t think so.

E: I think if you’d be able to release them somewhere that a lot of people would be interested in them.

W: Yes, yes. I don’t know why, indeed. The fans would be happy with those.

E: I think a lot of people- because we were just talking about your biggest fan.

W: My biggest-

E: Your grandma.

W: My grandma, yes. Big shout out to my grandma.

E: Do you think she’s watching right now?

W: She’ll definitely watch, I hope so.

E: What’s your grandma’s name?

W: Micheline.

E: Micheline, thank you very much for watching Micheline.

W: Micheline.

E: I appreciate it.

W: Women in power. She deserves a special place. No really, she follows all the fan accounts of wtFock. And then sometimes, or very often, we call and she gives me an update of what’s being said on the internet. Or yes, I also remember, when scenes come out and there’s things being said and she’s like "Willem, is that true, what are they saying?" And I say "Grandma, it’s nothing, it’s all from the show." "Ah okay, okay." So yes, very sweet grandma. She’s like the grandma where everything was allowed. I think that’s the same for everyone. At home, there are a lot of rules, and then you got to sleepover at your grandma’s and it was like: "Oh, I get to stay up later, and she made pudding for me." Her vanilla pudding-

E: That good?

W: Grandma, if you’re seeing this, please make some vanilla pudding when I visit.

E: Dude, everything’s falling out of my pocket.

W: You’re letting everything fall out of your pocket? Maybe you need to buy another pair of pants.

E: The chair is too comfortable that I’m kind of sinking in it, and now I constantly get-

W: The conversation’s too comfortable-

E: It’s just my phone, it’s vibrating, I think it just vibrated out of my pocket. So, silent, great. Eh, what were we talking about? About your grandma.

W: About my grandma.

38:46

E: Now, totally different subject. If you were a fish, what color fish would you be?

W: A fish?

E: Which color do you identify most with?

W: Eh.

E: And you’re a fish too of course.

W: Identify with which color. The thing is, I’m in the scouts. And in the Jins, that’s the last year before you become a leader, we were given a color totem, and the whole group decided on a color that fits you.

E: All right.

W: And mine was mango orange.

E: Wow, that’s cool.

W: Yeah, I thought it was cool too. And it means, if I have to think back, mango has quite a hard peel, relatively, but the fruit itself is quite soft. And that refers to my personality. I’m someone that lets people in fast, around me, but in the beginning, suspicion is a little strong, but kind of like, testing. Let’s say that. But once- From the outside I might look a bit hard. A lot of people say that when I have my straight face-

E: Resting bitch face.

W: That I’m angry. I was once told on the subway by a dude, and I was just listening to music, staring in the distance, and I think, suddenly a dude comes up to me, in French: "C’est quoi ton problème, heh, tu regardes come ça, c’est quoi ton problème." And I was like: "I’m sorry". Apparently, I was looking in his direction with my-

E: Bitch face.

W: Bitch face. He must have thought I was looking for problems. So yeah, that’s why the mango, a little hard on the outside, but once you get to know me better, a soft, sweet boy. So that’s why, orange. So, an orange fish then.

E: A little bit of Nemo vibes.

W: Yes, Nemo then. But let’s, what’s that theory. Did you hear that?

E: Theory?

W: About Nemo.

E: What’s the theory?

W: Haven’t you heard that? I keep seeing that online. I’m having a crisis. So the thing is, your childhood will get ruined.

E: Fuck man.

W: The thing is-

E: But there really are, no keep going, I have something I want to say afterwards.

W: The thing is, I’ve heard, that Nemo is Latin for nobody, and that the father is imagining that he still has an egg left, but that that fish doesn’t actually exist.

E: Oh fuck.

W: And that Dory joins him, and he sees, we’re actually not looking for anyone, but because he has memory issues, he constantly forgets that they’re not looking for anyone. So, they’re actually looking for nobody. And I saw that online and I was like.

E: Damn, so all the eggs are eaten, but he imagines that someone still has to be there.

W: Yes, something to keep living for.

E: Fuck man, that’s very brutal. That’s very fucked up.

W: Sorry to everyone for who Nemo is ruined now.

E: There’s a similar theory about Phineas and Ferb, and then Candice, their sister, is based on a true story about a girl that lost her brothers and still imagines that they're still doing stuff in the garden. And she keeps telling her mom: "Look, look, they are still here, they’re doing that." And that the mom says: "They’re not there." And that’s why she can never see that. You get it? Brutal right?

W: My whole childhood is ruined. Fucking hell.

E: That’s going to be the title of this podcast.

W: Childhood ruined.

E: We’re ruining your childhood.

42:17

W: We’re ruining your childhood. No but that’s good because, thankfully, I have a half-sister, but I say sister because I think half-sister is an ugly word, of seven years old. She thinks she’s 16. She’s a real diva.

E: Oh wow, okay.

W: She’s very, I’ll tell you a story later, but the thing is, I experience all those things with her again. In the beginning it was like, turning the tv on, Bumba, again. And I could secretly watch with her without feeling guilty. I was like, I’m watching Bumba and secretly I’m enjoying it, but sssh, I’m just watching it with my sister.

E: That exactly.

W: And now it’s Ketnet, like Hoodie, those series that she’s watching. And yes, I notice that because of all the technology today, she has an iPad, she’s on YouTube, she’s watching those self-made crafts.

E: 7 years old?

W: 7 years old, yes.

E: Wow.

W: She watches those- where people are playing with Barbies and they make a little play with them online on YouTube and they do stuff. Yes, a tablet. She has an iPad that’s bigger than her head. That makes me think- well, an iPad is usually bigger than everyone’s head. Or well, almost.

E: Not if you have a mini of course.

W: Her head isn’t that big.

E: Okay.

W: She’s on it a lot though. But she’s a real diva. I think the best story I have, there’s multiple. I remember the story, we were sitting at the table and she was having another moment of "I’m the princess, and everyone can leave because I do what I want and fuck you all". But the thing is, there’s five kids at home. I have a brother and two stepbrothers. So, she has four brothers, and she knows very well that she has four brothers. And that makes her feel even more like she’s the princess at home. So, we were sitting at the table. And she kept staring at my dad like this while throwing her cutlery on the ground. Like "what are you going to do". And my dad was like: "Liv," because her name is Liv by the way, "stop that."

E: That wasn’t nice of Liv. (Liv sounds the same as lief which means nice in Dutch.)

W: No. Not nice of-

E: Haha. Sorry.

W: Badam pam ts. Can’t we put that under here. Yes.

E: No, sorry, keep going.

W: So, he was like: "Liv, stop that, stop that." He started to get annoyed, because she kept going. "Liv, what is so hard to understand about no." And then it got silent at the table so I thought, okay, it’s done. The o.

E: Oh wow.

W: 7 years old and she drops that.

E: Oh wow.

W: And I thought, okay.

E: Damn bro.

W: The o. That she even dares to say that. Yeah, and she has those moments. She was sitting at the table, with her mask on, eating. So, she pulled her mask down to eat, and then she was chewing with her mask on. And then I asked: "Liv, why are you wearing your mask?" "Yes, you came back from Ghent, you’re not in my bubble."

E: Okay, okay.

W: So, then I said: "Okay, that’s fine." It’s crazy how that goes around among young children. Because my sister came back home from school crying once. And I asked her: ‘Liv, what’s wrong?’ "Yes, my friends didn’t let me play with them." So, I was like: "Why?" "Margot says I’m not allowed in her bubble."

E: Oh wow.

W: See, that’s becoming the new- we played with Pokémon cards on the playground and now it’s about playing games in bubbles because it’s so-

E: Damn.

W: Yes, you’re only allowed to have four people in your bubble so we don’t play with more than four.

E: Oh wow.

W: So I found that kind of crazy, or confronting that it made me think like, even at such a young age it has an impact. And I know that the-

E: That it leaves an impression.

W: Yes, and I know that my dad-

E: It’s sad that children have to think about it.

W: Yes, exactly.

E: Well, it’s not that- everyone should think about it of course.

W: Yes, yes, of course. It’s also that I know the way my dad feels about raising, that he tells Liv straight up about things that are happening in the world. He doesn’t make things seem nicer, or saying, eh, yes, no, but that’s- The classic story of how babies are made, with the cauliflowers, and what not.

E: I also just think-

W: How am I going to explain that to my kids?

E: If you don’t make it a taboo to start with, is it that bad? It’s just- it’s just. Oh well, that’s a whole other conversation.

W: Yes, no, definitely.

E: But straight up just telling what’s going on to your kids. I think I would prefer that to making up a story about the flowers and the bees.

W: Yes, yes.

E: Because the story about the flowers and the bees, I don’t even know how you actually- pollinating and stuff, is that what that means?

W: You do it like this, pollinating.

E: Yes, no, exactly.

W: Yes, but well, children, that’s still a long time from now.

E: Do you want kids, you think, later?

W: Yes, please.

E: Do you think you would be a good father?

W: I hope I would be a good father. Despite my parents’ divorce, I really do… I do look up to my parents. I’m proud of the way they raised me. So yeah if I would be a good father… sometimes, but maybe that’s the age, kids frustrate me. I’m a leader in the scouts for the Welpen and Welpen -great guys- but they can also be annoying and say “I’m not participating” and “that’s a stupid game, can we do something else?” and I’m like “we invest so much time in this and so much preparation, please participate” so sometimes that bothers me. But I would prefer not to have just one (child). Certainly more than one because… are you an only child?

E: No I have a little brother.

W: Yeah only child… with all due respect to people who are only children but sometimes I think… for example, I’m very happy that I have a brother. Not that it wouldn’t be fun without a brother per se, but I don’t know, the contact I have with my brother is nice.

E: The thing is, you don’t know what you’re missing so it’s hard to miss it I guess. But I do think that my brother has been a great added value to my life.

W: Yeah, yeah.

E: In the same way, I never really had grandparents. They all died before I was born and the grandfather I did have was quite old when I was actually aware that I had a grandfather. So I’ve never really had the grandparents experience that you see with family gatherings and stuff. But I don’t feel like I’ve missed anything but I still know how much other people benefit from having grandparents. Also what you just said about how often you call each other and stuff. I think that’s the same with being an only child. If you don’t have any brothers or sisters, you don’t know what it’s like to have that, what you’re missing. But if you do have it, it’s an added value I think.

W: Yes, exactly. No that’s true. My brother is very helpful to me now. I know that I can count on him.

E: Older or younger by the way?

W: Older.

E: A lot older?

W: 21.

E: 21.

W: Oh boy I had to think about how old my brother is. Embarrassing. Love you man. No but we had - maybe you had that too – but when we were younger, we really fought.

E: Physical?

W: Real fighting. Yeah, it’s has now gotten much better. I think we understand each other a lot better, but it used to be real… we had Catch WW on the Wii and we reenacted that on the couch so that was… “In the right corner Ramy Stereo” and we were bare-chested and both had one boxing glove on and fighting each other until one of us cried, bled or gave up. Usually it was me.

E: That’s just the fate of the little brother.

W: I always went… I’ve never admitted that actually, [whispers] it’s a confession. I’ve never admitted it, but afterwards I always went to my parents and cried “Kwinten hurt me”.

E: That’s really… that’s the moment, you feel it coming and you think “ah fuck no, if I hit again it’s probably over but I want to…” [cross-talk] “no no no don’t tell mom! Don’t tell mom!” I think I was a pretty nice big brother. We often did shit together. We were at home playing on the couch together and Olaf bumps into a large box that was standing there and the box, bigger than Olaf back then, fell down on his hand.

W: Oh shit.

E: So Olaf broke his hand. And I thought “I made him jump over those chairs” and then you have to say “sorry sorry don’t tell them, don’t tell them!” but yeah if your hand is fucking broken, you’re not gonna stop crying because your big brother says “don’t cry”. Yeah, that are…

W: Yes, but the relationship [between Willem and his brother] has improved. Okay we still have our discussions but... I think moments like when we’ve both been to a pub or something and we come home at the same time and we’re always hungry and standing in the kitchen making sandwiches. Those are great moments. I don’t necessarily need to have emotionally heavy of deep conversations with my brother to know that he’s there and that I can have a good time with him. So I think that’s the added value of having a brother or brothers in general.

E: Do you guys also have a specific sense of humor? Or like those moments when the two of you are laughing and your parents or people around you think “what the fuck is going on?”

W: Yeah we speak some slang to each other for fun. Like “stu stu” and [my slang knowledge is very limited so I have no idea what he’s saying here lol], those kinds of things. Typical slang from Brussels and Leuven. It’s funny because my parents are always like “why are you talking to each other like that?” and recently, I was leaving and my mom said “stu stu!” so they are adopting those words and then my brother and I can’t stop laughing.

E: Also if your mom suddenly says “are we going to chill later?” and I’m like [laughing] “what? Mom!”

W: “Okay??”

E: It’s kind of cute. Yeah it’s fun. And what are… I almost want to go deep like…

W: That’s okay.

E: Is there a particular interaction or experience you’ve had with your brother that sums up your relationship right now? Or are those the moments when you’re laughing and eating at night? It doesn’t have to be a super deep or emotional moment.

W: I think it’s an accumulation of those moments and emotional moments too. For example, after it was over with my ex. I was really down back then, it hit me pretty hard. Those are the moments when I can walk into my brother’s room in the middle of the night and he’s there for me. I know that dude is always going to be there when something’s wrong, no matter how much we argue or how much we shit at each other. I just know, and I hope he does too, that I can call him 24/7, walk into his room 24/7 and he will be there or ready to listen. I think that’s just something… the fact that we know that about each other, that creates that bond. And the thing is, if only he would do his best and go to work, earn real money… because we went on holiday together and he still hasn’t… he still has some work to do but we’ve already planned something. I’m really looking forward to it. We’re planning to go surfing in Portugal together. Those are moments I just know I can go somewhere with him and have the time of my life without-

E: …That you can remember for the rest of your life what you did together.

W: Yeah, absolutely. Those moments that I want to cherish or want to keep or experience.

E: My little brother is also just the most annoying dude on this planet who I love the most.

W: Exactly that combination. Annoying, but you love them.

E: Of course. The cameras are back on. That means we’ve been at it for over 50 minutes.

W: 50 minutes? It feels like we’re chatting for 20 minutes.

E: Exactly.

W: Pleasant.

E: That’s good. If it’s pleasant and the stress is gone.

W: Do you actually like me? “No I hate you. We’re going to finish. It has been good.”

55:29

E: No we’re not going to finish yet, but before we do, is there anything you’d like to send out into the world before we finish? On average there are 10 to 50 people watching. Is there anything you want to say to them?

W: To the 10 to 50 people?

E: Yes.

W: 10 to 50 people, you are awesome. No, what I’m saying… maybe a little deep but it doesn’t matter. Very often in your life you are going to encounter that you run into a wall, that you’re going to have setbacks, that you think “I don’t want to anymore, I can’t to this anymore, life is all one big shit show” but I think that there is a certain… at least I believe that – everyone has their own opinion of course- that a certain path has been mapped out for everyone. Not necessarily that things are set in stone but there is a road that you are going to take and that road is going to have curves, is going to have hills, is going to have valleys, is going to have everything. Maybe it’s a gravel path, maybe rocks you stumble over but -it sounds a bit stupid- put on your best walking shoes and just walk that path the best way you can. Just try to live life with complete joy and euphoria because you’re 100% worth it. No matter what other people say or think about your ideology or style or way of life. Everyone is entitled to it or should be given the opportunity to be appreciated for who they are. I think that’s something we do too little in this society, but yeah.

E: Just don’t be too hard on yourself in the end?

W: Yeah, don’t be too hard on yourself. A lot of people blame themselves too much. Or “oh I’m like that and I don’t fit in because of that” or something. Then I think: so be it.

E: Do you sometimes feel that you should do more or have achieved more at this age? Of course you’re already doing a lot of cool shit but social media, I know there is a highlight reel of all people’s achievements and that sometimes it’s very difficult to filter between what is real and how much is that person actually sitting on the couch doing nothing. Do you sometimes feel that because of social media of because of your environment or I don’t know, that you’re not doing enough?

W: Gosh, sometimes I think my life is too full.

E: Too full?

W: Not that I’m saying “oh I have so many things to do” but I’m like... I’m letting that grow organically or so.

E: Not putting too much pressure on yourself?

W: Not putting too much pressure on yourself. I’m doing a course now that I’d like to finish because I’ve had those two projects and there are friends of mine who say “why are you still studying? You’ve had your opportunity, you’re going to get new opportunities right?” and I say “hey! I’m also only 19”. Sometimes I think “fuck Willem you should have achieved more already” but I also think I’m only 19. There was a conversation at school… I really think that’s one of the added values of the course. We receive an observation report twice a year, 5 pages where the teacher writes about you and how they see you, what they think about you, what your qualities are, what you still need to work on. It’s always spot on. So strange how they can just see right through you, even though I sometimes try to hide it. Yeah, where was I going with this… we had subsequent conversation about it and I said to my teacher “sometimes I feel like I’m too young for this course” that I have too little life experience. There are people in my class who are in their 20s or older, who have already studied something else before this, have read a lot more, seen a lot more than me, a lot more experience and I think “fuck, I don’t have anything”. People talk about certain topics and I don’t follow at all. I mentioned that I felt too young and she [the teacher] said “you’re young, but that also has its advantages. Your youthfulness can actually be an interesting tool in this course and look at it from a different perspective”. So I’m convinced: don’t be too hard on yourself, don’t think “whew, I’m already 20 and I haven’t achieved anything yet” so to speak. I even saw a video recently where… “if you don’t make it in your 20s, you might make it in your 30s and if you don’t make it in your 30s, you might make it in your 40s”. There are so many… there really are a lot of people… people often forget that there are people who only find out what they want to do or discover their passion later in life.

E: And also just… I think it’s so ridiculous that you set certain goals for a certain age or something. That it’s so expected that by 18 you must have completed high school and by 25 you must have had your first job interview, by 28/30 you must have a house and a serious relationship where you’re committed to for the rest of your life and by 40 you must have already had a promotion, that you can provide for yourself and fix your pension. All those fucking predetermined milestones. I think that’s kind of bullshit, you know?

W: Absolutely.

E: If that were the case, then I should graduate in a few years so to speak while I’m clearly not studying here because I have – fuck normally I have a re-exam today. And here we are.

W: Here we are.

E: I knew I was doing this but I mean that’s just… there’s so much time. I’m 22 now and I’m doing some shit, if I go nuts now or people don’t want to listen to this podcast anymore, don’t want to see what I do online, okay then I have to look elsewhere. But I did this and I went for it and I tried. I’m 22. Even if I go nuts now and it’s all gone, I’m only 22. There are still so many ways it could go. A lot of people don’t have a job at 22. If I started looking for a new job or something now, hopefully I’ll have one by 25. Then it’s still okay because I’m only 25. I don’t know, I always find that… I could go on for a long time about this. I think those predetermined milestones/goals of things that you must have achieved by a certain age, I just think it’s bullshit.

W: I sometimes make the comparison that people too often see life as the sports world. Football players who are good until 35 and then they are done. As if you must have already performed before that age. That’s not how it works. You really have all the time and you really don’t have to stress. I also notice that many people… you mentioned re-exams. That people say “fuck I have re-exams, oh no I’m not going to pass, oh no you have extra…” chill. You do your best, but suppose you have to repeat a year, that’s not a disaster either, is it?

E: What I also think is crazy is how many people have studied law and you eventually hear that they ended up in a marketing agency because they found it much more interesting. When I talk to some people who… I was seeing a social media manager recently [laughs] “seeing”, I was talking to him.

W: “seeing” okay [laughs].

E: I was talking to him.

W: [joking] Ender has something to say.

E: And I asked “what did you study?” and he said biochemistry. “How the fuck did you end up here?” Him: “uh yeah that just wasn’t the right fit for me. I have a master’s degree but I started working here because I found it much more interesting”. I thought: why am I pretending that the degree I’m trying to get is going to determine the rest of my life, you know?

W: Absolutely.

E: If there are so many people now… because he was only 28 or something. So I thought “aah okay so you’ve been studying biochemistry for so many years and now you’re here – I don’t know if I’m talking about the correct position – but now you’re just sitting here making content. Cool. But why do I attach so much importance to that one direction I’m studying right now that doesn’t even have anything to do with media or anything. I mean I’m very interested in media, I’m studying economics. Which is also interesting, but that’s not what I see myself doing in the coming years.

W: Yeah, yeah.

E: Anyway enough about me. Do you think you could win in a fight against a cow?

W: [laughs] I really like that. You can switch to totally different shit like that. Like before you suddenly asked what color fish do you want to be. Okay. That’s nice. Win… I’ve heard if you knock over a cow it dies. That it has a heart attack then. We don’t want to kill cows okay!

E: And purely hypothetical, you’re just standing in a kind of meadow so it’s not super big so you can’t go in all directions. There is a limited domain. You come face to face with that cow and you have to begin. No weapons. You’re standing there and the cow stands there and you both know you’re going to fight.

W: It knows that too?

E: It knows that too.

W: [makes mooing noises] okay ca va.

E: It’s not a bull but it does have horns so in fact it would-

W: I would shit my pants. I’d give up already. I would lie on the ground, come on. Really crazy, I saw Jackass recently. Those guys, that Wee Man, who was in that link with the bull and he’s being catapulted, so to speak.

E: I don’t understand how those guys aren’t all dead yet.

W: Yeah they are really crazy.

E: There was also a rumor that Wee Man died from a bowling ball during… but apparently that wasn’t true.

W: I don’t know.

E: Fucked up shit. Would you win against a cow?

W: Would I win against a cow? No, I wouldn’t win against a cow. I don’t think I would win against a cow.

E: I think I would. I think just like with a bull I would try to jump out of the way like that and once you’re on the side it’s just a matter of pushing. If what you said is true, it’s game over when it’s down and you know, that’s your tactic.

W: But the thing is, a cow is heavy, isn’t it?

E: True.

W: You can’t just push it over like that, can you?

E: Sure, but it’s a matter of life or death, isn’t it? The adrenaline rush. You have to image, a cow just comes running towards you. The adrenaline that goes through your body. You shouldn’t underestimate the power you have then.

W: Just find the best patch of grass and when it’s there, sneaky knife in the back. No, now people are going to think I’m that kind of person.

E: That you’re just a snake.

W: Snake. Definitely and I admit it. No, that would be fucked up.

E: I’m going to do one more thing that’s important. I’m going to find a Twitter shout out and in the meantime, I already asked you what your message is to the world and that was a beautiful message. Got something more banal that you’d like to share? Something that you want to share from your social media or something?

W: What do you mean from social media?

E: Where they can follow you. You can say something if you have a really good video that you want to share. “Check me everywhere”.

W: No I don’t have… people should do what they feel like doing. Do you think I’m cool, do you think I’m fun, follow me on Insta. No really doesn’t matter. Doesn’t really matter.

E: Alright, I’m just going to scroll and you say stop. I’ll go back and forth and you have to say “yes that’s the one who gets to have this week’s shout out”.

W: Exciting huh. Stop.

E: [reads twitter account] M. Verschuren.

W: M. Verscheure.

E: Is that…

W: [reads quote] “If you were never sad, you wouldn’t know you could be happy”.

E: Wow. Damn bro.

W: I’m going to edit my quote.

E: “If you were never sad, you wouldn’t know you could be happy”. Wow. If you didn’t have shitty days, you wouldn’t know what the best days of your life were.

W: Exactly. But what if you get stuck in your shitty days for the rest of your life?

E: That won’t happen. That’s my biggest fear.

W: Me too.

E: Looking back at your life and thinking-

W: …Fuck I’ve never been there again.

E: …That’s where I peeked. Hope that doesn’t happen. Anyway M. Verscheure thank you very much for listening, I really appreciate it. You as well, I think?

W: Absolutely, absolutely. How much were you going to pay me?

E: 50 euro.

W: Then I’ll come… awesome. Super cool.

E: Thank you so much to everyone who listened. I appreciate it. If you want to hear more you can always subscribe to this channel. It’s also good for my ego. I’ll just put your Instagram link in the description, for people who are interested. Okay, that was it.

W: Thanks, it was fun.

E: There’s an audio only episode on Spotify every Sunday and the video comes out on Monday. That’s it. See you next Monday. Or Sunday. Peace.

[depressedacadamia]

I’m scared of the dark!

Summary:  Annabeth notices someone running behind her as she walks back to her dorm at 1 in the morning.  She does the only thing she can think of- Run

Warnings: This is quite a creepy piece and has dark descriptions of the reality of walking alone in the dark- It does end happily though, if thats any use.

A/N: My exams are over!! Since I didn’t post a fic last week, here’s one today!! For this, I really wanted to explore a more creepy and gothic writing style so if that isn’t your thing, feel free to pass! <3 from me!!

Read on A03

Don’t look behind you, just keep walking. Ignore those footsteps, you’re being paranoid, Just keep walking, just keep walking, just keep walking.

The words repeated themselves in Annabeth’s mind like a mantra as she walked back to her dorm, clutching her books to her chest as if her life depended on it. It was almost 1 in the morning and she had accidentally fallen asleep in the library.

She had told herself that it would only be a 5 minute nap.

5 minute nap my ass she thought as she pushed the muscles in her legs to move as fast as they possibly could without drawing any attention to herself. She could feel another presence. Everytime she passed a lamp post, she would pause, take a frantic glance around trying to find the source of the ominous sound.

Tap, tap, tap.

Her head spun around, searching for the sound. Was that a racoon? Stray cat? Do stray cats show up here? She could see her breath in the air, misty and cloudy- just like her surroundings. She was surrounded by the cold that seeped into the shadows, like a vampire draining the victim of its life.

That very well may be my life being drained if I don’t get back quickly.

Her thoughts were only exacerbating her fear and paranoia of the situation. She felt as if she was watching a horror film and any second now, the killer would jump out and the unknowing victim would be nothing but another corpse left behind for the campus to find when it was all too late.

Tap tap tap.

Her legs moved faster, she was almost breaking into a run. The transparent doors of her apartment complex were almost visible. The light was more present, she could see her surroundings.

Tap tap tap

She felt her legs take over, breaking into a run. Her head quickly turned back only to see a dark hooded figure sprinting at full speed towards her. She took no time to realise that the figure was also looking behind them as if they were being chased but instead moved so fast that she felt whiplash against her face from the cold bite of the wind.

She lunged at the double doors, stumbling past them, trying to make her way to the elevator. Her hand slapped the button, desperately pushing at it as if it could make the elevator move any faster.

“Please, please,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from the heavy breathing.

The elevator continued its slow progress as if Annabeth wasn’t about to get murdered any second now. She turned her head slightly, only to see that the hooded figure was now much closer than before and also intending on entering the same building as her.

Her body dropped into flight mode. Glancing back at the elevator, she managed to calculate that in the amount of time she had and the amount of time it would take for the elevator to arrive, the guy would have probably already murdered her.

She decided the copious amounts of stairs to her dorm were no longer as long as they had once been. She threw herself at them, skipping 2 steps at a time, her breath beating out of her with every step. Her hand slipped into her pocket, fishing for her keys.

Finally, as she arrived on her floor, she whipped her head around, checking her surroundings. The corridor was dark, only illuminated by the sliver of light that would emerge at the bottom of a door occasionally, indicating that somebody was indeed awake and therefore would hear her screams.

As to not alert anybody of her presence, she moved slowly, her foot lifting up in slow motion only to bring it back down on the carpeted floor. Her hand gripped around her keys, both for protection and to prevent the clanging sound from ricocheting across the empty corridor.

The dark was consuming each door, it was almost impossible to see which door was hers.

Shuffle shuffle shuffle.

She froze.

“W- wh-who’s th-there?” Annbeeth’s voice came out shaky, her breathing still heavy from the running. She was only answered with silence.

Tap tap tap

Her footsteps became more frequent, her worries about someone hearing her fading- someone already knew she was here, there was no point trying to hide it, she should focus on trying to get back to her apartment as fast as she could.

Her pants became quieter and quicker- just like her thoughts. They whizzed past in her mind, even too fast for even her brain to process. Her eyes were wide, darting around frantically, never finding a source of the sound.

In an odd way, she wanted to find the source, if it meant knowing what or who was there.

Ding ding ding.

Annabeth left out a shriek only muffled by her hands moving to cover her mouth and the abnormally loud opening of the elevator doors. She saw a foot step out and she felt paralysed. She couldn’t move, she wanted to run, she wanted to scream- maybe to even beg for her life, but it seemed that there was flight, fight and freeze mode; right now, unhelpfully, her body had chosen freeze mode.

Her eyes moved to the hooded figure's head and she could make out dark tufts of hair that protruded from the front of the hoodie. The hair was so dark that it blended with the night itself- the only way Annabeth could see it was due to the light from the elevator.

She watched as the doors closed, stealing the light and hope with it.

Slowly, she began to back away from the hooded figure who was staring directly back at her. Her hand tried to silently fumble with keys in her hand, ready to protect herself. As she fumbled with them in one hand, she made the mistake of letting all the keys collide and immediately the clanging sound of keys gave her away.

The figure was hooded. Hooded like Death itself. Annabeth could feel the piercing stare of the figure staring at her- She, for a brief moment, forgot about her grotesque fate and for a second, only a second, wondered what colour their eyes were- were they green, or were they piercing blue? Or maybe they were a warm brown or a dangerous black, the kind that Death would stare their victims down with.

She watched, still shuffling backwards in fear as the figure reached his arm out towards the wall. Annabeth could then make out a weird contraption underneath his other arm. It seemed to be flat but had 4 eyes- only that two were on the front and two at the back. It was flat and she could only imagine the multide of ways one could torture another with such a contreaption.

Click

If she wasn't so terrified she might have said that this was the sound of a light switch being turned on but her fear, very reasonably, was overruling her. The sound ‘click’ to her in that moment sounded like one of the worst possible things ever.

Was that a gun?

She couldn't hold in her fear anymore. She turned around, running, running for her life. Running like someone with everything to lose, running for herself and every reason she could think of for running away.

Click click click

As if she were truly in a horror film, about to meet her fate, a single light at the end of the endless corridor flickered on. For a second, Annabeth thought she was free, she thought she could see her apartment, but as she stared at the numbers on the doors, they all seemed unfamiliar.

It struck her- She was on the wrong floor.

The light flickered on and off, on and off- teasing her, luring her like a moth to a flame. Once she got to the end, she wouldn't be able to go anywhere- she’d be trapped, like a fly in a spider's web. She shivered at the thought of spiders.

“Wait!” A voice called out. “ Hey, hey!”

Annabeth did nothing of the sort. Her body was slick with sweat, the loose strands of hair around her face stuck to her face with sweat. She turned her head back, only for a second, just to see how far she was and-

-Oof!

She collided into something and her face was glued to a wall.

She pulled away from the wall, and scrambled around, trying to get off her knees.

But all was too late. As she glanced up, she was met with black hair and a hand that was offered in her face. She couldn't bring herself to take the hand- no matter what hyer fate was.

She managed to pull herself back to her feet. She turned slightly and froze- Flight, Freeze, time for Fight.

“Are you okay?” The voice asked her. The question caught her off guard. Why were they being nice? Weren’t they meant to try and kidnap her, and then mutilate her body to the point that the police couldn't recognise her?

Her voice failed her entirely. She only managed to press herself more desperately against the wall behind her. The light above her flickered again. She caught a flash of the face but it was enough to drain the life of her. It was the weirdest combination of features she had ever seen and somehow it fit.

The eyes were green, a soft green and somehow they seemed to be able to scare her, the coldness they held under the harsh flickering light in the darkness was all too similar to the brutal sea. His expression yet, seemed concerned and his mouth was set in a firm line- whether than was from concern or perhaps frustration or even anger, Annabeth was too startled to tell.

“I’m sorry, I must have scared you. I wanted to give this to you, I think you dropped it when you started running.” And surely enough, in their hands, there lay Annabeths most recently taken out book on architecture- the very book that had gotten her into this mess.

“I-'' She was about to thank him but her tone turned visceral. “Why were you chasing me?”

She could feel her stomach churning, threatening to throw up her food but she couldn't let her pride be taken away. She had run- yes, but very reasonably. Time to see his reasoning for trying to kill her. The boy looked uneasy at her question, as the light above them finally stopped flickering and finally did its job, illuminating the small space around them. Annebth looked at her perpetrator and was shocked.

“Percy?”

On recognizing that voice, Percy looked up, bewildered. “Annabeth?”

“What were you doing chasing the first girl you saw at night?” Annabeth asked, her tone very much accusative. She stood her ground with her hands resting on her hips, no longer tucking her chin into her chest and rather holding her head up.

“I-I wasn’t- I swear, I wasn't! It’s just that, that…”

“It’s just that what?”

Percy mumbled something under his breath, bringing his hood down as he ran his hand through the messy hair.

“Huh?”

I-” His ears and face tinged a light shade of pink, “I’mscaredofthedark.”

“Stop speaking so fast or I’m just going to assume you’re secretly a serial killer who stalks college girls on his Wednesdays.”

“I don’t, I swear, I’m just scared of the dark, okay!” Percy bursted out, flinging his arms in front of him. Annabeth could see that Percy seemed almost as terrified as she did, his face drained of colour, skateboard held protectively underneath his arm and hood held over his head.

“You’re…. Afraid of the dark?”

“It’s not something I pride myself on,” he mumbled, looking away.

Annabeth took a deep breath, acknowledging that she wouldn’t die because Percy couldn’t hurt a fly.

“Did I scare you?” His voice came out as a small squeak.

She rubbed the back of her head as if she was slightly embarrassed. “Uh., a bit.”

“Sorry.” he rubbed his shoe into the carpet, refusing to make eye contact with Annabeth.

“Thanks for my book...er try not to run behind girls late at night though… it can give the wrong idea…”

“I’m sorry, really really sorry. It was so dark and I was terrified and I must have imagined that it was terrifying for you as well, to just see some hooded guy in the dark just running like crazy,” Percy rambled nervously.

Annabeth let out a half hearted laugh as they walked to Percy;’s apartment door. “Yeah, when you put it like that, it’s slightly less intimidating.”

“Thanks for not killing me- I guess you were prepared though with your keys in your hand and everything.”

Annabeth raised her eyebrow and then her fist when realising she had inserted a key in between each knuckle crevice, wolverine style, in an attempt to make some sort of brass knuckle. ”Careful, I still might.”

Percy frowned when he looked at her fist. Hey reached out to key wolverine fist to readjust it.

“Hey, just a word of advice, if you actually want to do an attacker's damage, putting a key in between each knuckle won't do much. Instead, hold the biggest and sharpest key you have like a knife, and then aim somewhere like the face- it;’s more likely to destabilize them and stop them from coming after you. The key in between each knuckle thing is most likely to just slightly scratch their face when you punch it and annoy them even more.”

Annabetyh was slightly stunned. “ Uh., uh.,oh thank you, thank you.. I guess. If you don't mind me asking, how do you know this?”

Percy shrugged. “ I have a younger sister. And a few friends who have a hobby of fighting, I guess I kinda learnt how to fish them out of bad situations.”

Annabeth opened her mouth and closed it again, similar to a goldfish. They both stood outside of Percy’s apartment, as he slotted his key in and opened his door.

Percy noticed that Annabeth still looked quite shaken from what had happened earlier so he held the door a little wider.

“Do you want to come in?”

Annabeth smiled

[queenmylovely]

The Best Things Ain’t Free

Summary: Roger Taylor x fem!reader. After meeting through friends, Roger is impressed with your lifestyle and you’re impressed with his prettiness. 

Word Count: 10.9k listen... she’s long

Warnings: cussing, smut (oral sex, fingering, etc.) (18+!! marked with ***)

A/N: This idea has been on my mind for ages because I can’t look at certain pictures of Roger in a fur coat without this thot. PSA that the most fictional part of this fic is reader being rich bc your girl ain’t. Let’s all use our best imagination and enjoy the life of the wealthy for a minute. Please leave feedback in any form whether it be tags, replies, asks, or messages, because I really do love hearing from you!

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

(these are what inspired this entire thing bc look at them!!! pics edited by me)

☆☆☆

Normally, you wouldn’t be one to go to a dingy pub to watch some band play a set. If you wanted to hear good music, you’d go to a concert in a real venue, with box seats and catering. And if you wanted a drink you’d go to the Ivy, Grenadier, Star, or if you really wanted a nice time, the Ritz. But your friend, Kalaya, from your time at Oxford (she had attended on a merit-based scholarship, bless her heart), had insisted that you come.

“They’re one of the best bands I’ve ever heard!” Kalaya gushed, trying to convince you to go.

“Better than the Stones? The Supremes? Janis?” you asked, referencing all of the concerts you had taken her to in uni. “We saw Janis the one and only time she played solo in London, are you telling me this student band is going to match her?”

“I said one of the best bands I’ve ever heard. And it’s not like you’ve never been to the bar before, it’s Angel’s, I took you there after exams junior year, remember?” Kalaya prodded, hoping that since it was at least somewhat familiar, you might be more likely to go.

“Oh yeah, I remember. Someone spilt a drink on me and I stunk like cheap beer for the rest of the night,” you said, wrinkling your nose in annoyance.

“C’mon you can’t condemn a whole pub just because one drunk idiot made a mistake,” Kalaya reasoned.

“Never would’ve happened at the Ritz,” you said with a huff.

Lucky for her, Kalaya never took you as seriously as you wanted to be and she laughed, “Stop being so stuck up, it’s not flattering.”

You stuck your tongue out at her, and she just rolled her eyes.

“Please, I need you to go. I fancy the guitar player and I can’t show up alone, you know I get nervous in crowds on my own,” Kalaya reminded you with her best puppy-dog eyes.

Your face broke out in a grin, “You didn’t say you fancied someone, oh my gosh, of course I’ll go! Tell me more about this guitarist.”

_____

The one caveat you had made Kalaya agree to was new outfits for the show. You would go to a grungy student pub to support your friend, but like hell were you going to dress the same as everyone there. After a few hours traipsing around Oxford Street, you both had completely new, fabulous outfits that were sure to stun, on your dime of course.

When you had first met Kalaya, she hadn’t liked you paying for things for her, but when you insisted that it only made sense for you to do or else you would be doing everything alone, she began to accept it. Plus, you had told her, the money was doing a lot more good being spent on fancy dinners and trips to the sea than sitting in some bank account in Switzerland. Anyway, your parents owned the largest shipping company in England, or something, so it wasn’t like there wasn’t plenty to spare.

“It’ll take about an hour and ten minutes by car, so we should leave about two and a half hours before the concert so we can get there early,” you planned out two days before the concert, during dinner at your shared apartment with Kalaya.

“Car? We can just take the train, it’s practically the same amount of time,” Kalaya replied.

“And get our new outfits all dirty before the show? No way, Chay can take us. I already told him about it and he’s bringing Martie so they can go too,” you explained. Chay (short for Charlie, short for Charles) was your family’s driver and Martie was his wife. They were in their early thirties so they still appreciated new music.

“What if something happens with Brian and I want to stay? Won’t Martie and Chay want to come home?” Kalaya said sheepishly.

“When that happens, we’ll just get rooms at that Inn on the boulevard and wait until morning to bring you home,” you said with a smirk.

Kalaya got her own cheeky smile, “And what about when you inevitably sweep some unknowing pretty boy off his feet? Where will they go without you to get the rooms?”

You hummed, thinking about all the boys that might be at the concert, “They have their expense card, of course.”

_____

The afternoon before the concert, the four of you met at the drive of your parent's house, ready and dressed for the night. You’re in dark wash bell bottoms, an emerald green satin top, and black leather platform boots. Draped over one arm you had your favorite fur coat, a dark brown mink, because although it was August, it got cold late at night, especially in Oxford. Kalaya had chosen a black flowy dress that came to her mid-thigh and made her medium-brown skin richer in comparison, and black suede booties. It would’ve been boring except for the silver and gold thread embroidering it, making it look like a starry night sky. She had told you it would be perfect because Brian studied stars.

Martie and Chay were a little more understated, as was to be expected since they didn’t have to try to catch anyone’s eye. Martie was in an orange floral dress in a similar cut to Kalaya’s, but a few inches longer. The orange of the dress and the yellow and olive green flowers complimented her dark brown skin with its warm undertone. Chay was in black bell bottoms, a dark red button-down with a paisley print, and regular black boots. You told him that he was lucky his skin was still tanned from the summer holiday because his typical paper-white skin combined with the outfit would’ve made him look like a vampire. Chay laughed sarcastically and Martie changed the subject by complimenting you two girls and then turned back to Chay, noticing his large collar was a little crooked and fixing it.

Everyone, including their overnight bags just in case, got into the car and Chay immediately turned the radio up, the four of you singing along the whole way there.

_

Once you got to the bar, the four of you grabbed drinks and sat at a table near the back because it wasn’t crowded yet. The group chatted easily, laughing at each other’s jokes and stories. You were all more like family than anything because Chay’s father was the family driver before him and he and Martie had been together since they were teenagers. Since Kalaya always came to all the family vacations (that Martie and Chay also came to, as “employees;” their only duty being a designated driver), the four of you were used to hanging out and going to clubs and concerts together.

Slowly, the bar started filling up and you turned to Kalaya, “We should probably go to the front now so we can secure a spot.”

Kalaya nodded, “Are you guys coming?”

Martie and Chay looked at each other, communicating silently in that way couples do. Martie answered, “No, we’ll stay here. Don’t wanna be around a bunch of sweaty students.”

“My sentiments exactly,” you said with a roll of your eyes and Kalaya elbowed you. Then you looked at Chay with a sheepish smile, “Can I leave my coat with you?”

“Yes,” Chay huffed with his own eye roll, but he was still smiling. “Now go on, get up there.”

Kalaya and you laughed and waved, hurrying to get a good spot close to the stage. That was one positive of a small venue, being close enough to the band to do some serious damage to your hearing as well as being able to actually see the sweat dripping down their temples and chests once they really got into the music.

The crowd grew around you and you were jostled a couple of times, but once you glared at the people who did it, that seemed to stop. The energy of the crowd grew and grew in anticipation and you heard lots of chatter about how excited they were to see the band. Maybe Kalaya hadn’t oversold them.

It wasn’t long before all of the stage lights went out and a booming voice came from all around, announcing the arrival of, “Your entertainment tonight, Her Majesty, Queen!”

You laughed, appreciating the audacity of the name as someone who liked to be somewhat outrageous yourself. The lights flashed back on and you realized that the band was already onstage; they went right into the first song, drums, guitar, and bass starting strong. You listened to the music, enjoying it already, but were more focused on checking out the band, which was easy because you were only ten feet away from the stage.

The singer was a slim, elegant man with light brown skin and jet black hair. His eyes were a warm brown and when he looked out at the crowd it was as if he was connecting with every person. Round lips and large teeth caught your eye and as you watched them enunciate every syllable, you couldn’t help but think they must make a wonderful smile. He was wearing a black satin jumpsuit embroidered and embellished until it shone in the light. Cheekbones sharp enough to cut and eyeliner just the same kept him on the rock side of glam, any softer and he could’ve been considered disco. And even though the concert had only just started, he was already completely into it; the energy he gave off as he strode about the stage only adding to the crowd’s.

Next you looked at the guitarist, Brian, who Kalaya was already staring at, mouth hanging open in a way that told you she didn’t realize how obvious it was. You gently reached over and tapped her chin, bringing her out of her trance and her eyes widened as she realized what she was doing. She started swaying to the music and looked around the stage in a much more casual way.

Back to the guitarist, as Kalaya had told you he was extremely tall, with some of the longest legs you had ever seen on anyone. With velvet black pants and a flowing white blouse, he was as glam as the singer. He was even more slim than the singer, and with the mound of curls that made up his head he kinda looked like a lollipop, nothing you would ever tell Kalaya. He had pale white skin, a prominent nose, and otherwise delicate features, but your main attention was brought to his hazel eyes that looked at the crowd as if he was surveying them. Overall you were thoroughly impressed with Kalaya’s choice to fancy him.

On the opposite side of the singer was the bassist, made clear by the fact that his guitar only had four strings and a longer neck. His clothing was a little more reserved than the other two, simply a black satin suit with a white satin shirt underneath. His chestnut brown hair was long and wavy, and it framed his also pale white face well. He was pretty relaxed in his playing, like it wasn’t that hard, but watching his hands you could tell the skill it took to stay on beat through some of the most complex rhythms. A soft nose, green-grey eyes that seemed kind, full lips, and a familiar feeling endeared him to you instantly, a smile coming to your face as he smirked when the singer pressed up against him.

Lastly, you turned your attention to the drummer, and just about gasped. Yes, the other three had been beautiful, but none of them were as pretty as him. His hair was shaggy, wavy, and dirty blonde, and heaven knew you loved your blondes. His white skin was lightly tanned which just made his baby blue eyes stand out even more. He was wearing some sort of black blouse but it was completely unbuttoned, leaving his chest that was toned from drumming totally exposed. You couldn’t see much else because of his kit but what you could see, your eyes ate up. As he drummed, his lips stuck out in a pout and his hair swooshed, glinting gold as he played the cymbals.

Kalaya had only been half-joking when she talked about you finding your pretty boy and now you had, your sights completely set on this drummer. Plus you figured that if Kalaya knew Brian, you had an automatic in.

Suddenly, you were making eye contact with the drummer but instead of being surprised or flustered, you started your mission. Biting your lip in a smile, rocking your hips to the rhythm he was playing, and tilting your head to the side, you made it clear you were checking him out. That seemed to spur him on and the drums got louder as he played harder. If he was trying to impress you, it was working, but more because it was a testament to his stamina than to his skill. Besides, you could see that you had done plenty to impress him by subverting his expectations and staring him down instead of swooning as soon as he caught your eye with his.

Not that there was anything wrong with swooning, in fact Kalaya was swooning over Brian at this very second because he had smiled at her, but you liked being the one to cause the swoon. You knew you were attractive and knew other people knew it too. You were confident and knew what you wanted, an energy you liked to radiate when you were around pretty boys.  

The drummer was the one to break eye contact first, looking around the room for a minute as if trying to distract himself. Then he looked back at you and you just smiled and waved at him. By the way his eyes widened and cheeks pinkened further than they already were, you could tell he was a little flustered, and laughed, something you were sure he could see as well. He didn’t seem to be looking away this time, so you did instead, turning your attention to Kalaya to make sure she was doing alright.

“How’s it going, babe? He in love with you yet?” you half-yelled into her ear because the music was so loud.

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, “More like I’ve just fallen further in love with him. But he has smiled and waved at me a couple times in between songs.”

“See? Don’t be all modest!” you urged.

“Well what about you? I see the eyes you’re making at that pretty boy drummer. He’s just the epitome of your type, huh?” Kalaya shot back.

You sighed happily, “He really is.”

_

About an hour later, the last encore was done and a cheap curtain had separated the band from the rest of the pub as they packed up their instruments. But apparently they would be joining the crowd later on, based on the talk of the people that had been standing around you up front. Not everyone seemed aware of this fact or maybe they just didn’t care, because the crowd thinned by half once the set was over. Quickly making a game plan, you and Kalaya decided to wait by the bar but not at the bar, in the path the band would most likely take from backstage to get a drink.

After waiting for only 10 minutes, you saw a curly head of hair bobbing through a doorway and realized they were on the move. You signaled to Kalaya with your eyes that they were appearing behind her (now out of their stage clothes), not interrupting what she was saying in an effort to remain casual. Once she had realized what you meant, she slowed her words, hoping to get interrupted. The blonde came into view and you flicked your eyes over to him just once, letting him know you knew he was there.

“Kalaya?” Brian asked, tapping her shoulder lightly.

Expertly, Kalaya turned like she was surprised, “Brian!”

They hugged quickly and she pulled back, “You all were amazing, just like last time.”

“Yes, well, I’m glad I actually have a chance to talk to you this time, instead of rushing off to deal with a flat tire on the van,” Brian smiled. Then he looked over to you and Kalaya jumped in.

“This is my friend,” she introduced you. “We went to Oxford together. She already knows all about you.”

Brian looked a little pleased at that, and Kalaya brought a hand to her mouth, realizing her faux pas.

“She means your band. She had to make a hard sell for me to come all the way back to Oxford to see the show,” you explained away what she said even though you all knew that wasn’t what she had meant.

“Well I’m glad you both made it,” Brian said with an easy smile. “Speaking of the band, I’d better introduce them all.”

Brian stepped back so he was in line with the other three and Kalaya turned so she was facing them next to you.

“This here is Freddie, our wonderful singer. Then we have John—”

“You can call me Deaky,” he interjected.

“Deaky then, our fantastic bassist. And finally our resident pretty boy himself, our drummer, Roger,” Brian finished with a bit of a smirk.

You all exchanged pleasantries and as Kalaya was drawn into a conversation with the rest of the band, Roger stepped closer to you.

“Pretty boy, huh?” You asked with a teasing smile. He nodded, about to say something in defense or make a jab at Brian, but you spoke first, “Glad I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

Roger flushed at that, a small smile coming to his face, but he changed the subject, “So you went to Oxford?”

“Yes,” you said slowly.

“Not a big fan?” he asked.

“No, I did really enjoy it here, just kind of small for my taste. I mean, over an hour to get to where anyone big’s playing and never having heard of fine dining? I suppose it was a good change of pace, or at least that’s what my parents say, but I’m glad to be back in the city,” you explained and Roger listened intently.

“So raised in London then?”

“Yes, except for the summers. Then it was Nice or Barcelona. Oh and one year New York,” you knew you were being a little overt with the flaunting of your upbringing, but you could tell that Roger was the type of person to enjoy the best things in life, and his eyes were as big as dinner plates as he listened to you, clearly impressed. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m just from Truro, not quite as glamorous as all those,” Roger told you and while he wasn’t exactly embarrassed, you could tell he was waiting for your reaction.

“Truro’s in Cornwall, right?” you asked and Roger confirmed with a nod. “Then I’ve been there! Yeah a couple years ago Kalaya and I went on a trip to the sea and took a little detour to Truro, we loved it! Perfect for a little weekend getaway.”

Roger smiled big, your praising of his hometown charming him, “But how is Truro on the way to the sea? Wouldn’t you just go to Brighton or Southend?”

You smiled, laughing at yourself, “Well I got it in my head that I wanted to go to the very western tip of the country, and luckily Kalaya is a good enough sport to go along with my whims.”

“Do you often have these types of whims?” Roger asked and there was more cheek behind the words than in their meanings.

“Well I adore travelling,” you said, a little smirk coming to your face. Then you fixed your gaze to Roger’s eyes, “And my personal philosophy is to do whatever I want, whenever I want, with whoever I want.”

Roger swallowed, his mouth parted, and he blinked a couple times before responding, trying a laugh to cover for his reaction to your words, “A bit hedonistic, no?”

“Hmm, a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, no?” you responded quickly. Not that you actually knew that Roger was similar to you in that way, but watching how he reacted to everything you said made you sure enough to say that.

Scoffing as if that weren’t true, all he could say was, “What?--who?”

“How are the two of you getting on?” the bassist, John-- Deaky, interjected, coming to stand so the three of you made a triangle.

“Well Roger here just called me hedonistic,” you said matter-of-factly, looking at Deaky with wide eyes.

“Ha! You’re one to talk, Rog,” Deaky told him, clapping him on the shoulder and laughing.

Roger just looked at you, surprised that you would’ve brought it up to Deaky. You just stuck your tongue between your teeth and smiled victoriously; you loved to keep boys on their toes, especially ones that looked so cute when they were surprised.

Deaky turned to you, “You look really familiar, have we met before?”

“You know, I was thinking the same thing, but you had shorter hair, right?” you looked at him more closely.

He laughed and nodded, “Yeah, this is pretty new.”

“What university did you go to?” you asked.

“Chelsea college in London, I was in electrical engineering,” Deaky replied.

You exclaimed in recognition, “The scholarship dinner! You got my family’s engineering scholarship, that was like five years ago.”

“That’s right! We hung out during that tour of one of the facilities when our parents were talking endlessly,” he remembered and you laughed along with him.

“Wait, I thought the only private scholarship you got was from that family with the shipping business that are, like, filthy rich,” Roger said and you and John just looked at each other and then at Roger, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Then his eyes went wide, “That’s your family?!”

“Might wanna close your mouth Rog,” Deaky said with a laugh, tapping Roger’s chin as you had Kalaya’s.

A voice came from the bar and you looked to see Brian waving the three of you over. Deaky immediately started walking but you hung back next to Roger.

He seemed to be walking slowly because he was still processing the information, “I kinda thought you were exaggerating about the summer trips. And you weren’t kidding when you said whatever you want whenever you want, were you?”

You reached over and tucked a stray strand of hair away from his face and Roger looked at your hand as it dropped back to your side, “Mm-mm, wasn’t kidding about the whoever, either.”

Roger looked back up at you and you winked before turning to the others and gladly accepting the drink held out to you by Brian.

Chatting in a little group with Brian, Kalaya, and Deaky, you noticed that Freddie and Roger were off to the side but didn’t pay it too much mind. You were more focused on whether this Brian liked your Kalaya as much as she did he, and judging by the way he stared at her with adoration in his eyes as she talked, he did.

Standing apart from the rest of you with Freddie, Roger took a gulp of his drink as he looked at you laughing with the others.

“Fred, man, I can hardly keep up with this girl. We’ve only been talking for like ten minutes and all the things she says! I hardly know whether I wanna be with her or be her,” Roger told Freddie.

“What do you mean?” Freddie said with a confused laugh.

“Well she’s beautiful and funny and smart, sophisticated, has great taste--” “I think you’re confusing her with me,” Freddie interrupted with a sly smile.

“Ha-ha, Fred. Did I mention she’s also loaded?” Roger deadpanned.

“She’s got me there,” Freddie admitted. “Well are you going to do anything about it?

“I would, but she’s kinda intimidating,” Roger said and when Freddie looked confused he elaborated. “Like, she’s been flirting more than me tonight, even when we were onstage.”

“That’s saying something,” Freddie agreed.

“Exactly, so I feel like she’s someone who would want to make the first move,” Roger pointed out. And then a little quieter, “which you know I have absolutely no problem with.”

Freddie laughed loudly, “Well if things don’t work out between you two, I might just have to make her my best friend.”

“Hey, that’s me,” Roger said with a frown.

Patting Roger’s arm, Freddie rolled his eyes and told him, “I know darling, it was a joke.”

Deaky, Kalaya, Brian, and you got up from your seats at the bar, catching their attention, so they walked over to where you were.

“We’re walking the girls out,” Deaky explained because Brian was too busy chatting with Kalaya. Freddie and Roger nodded and then Deaky led the way, cutting through the crowd to the exit. Brian and Kalaya were lock-step behind him, and Freddie, Roger, and you followed up last, in that order.

“Leaving already?” Freddie asked you.

“Yeah, well if we want to get rooms for the night we better head over,” you explained.

“Oh are you staying at the Inn too?” Roger asked, his ears pricking up.

You nodded with a little laugh, “Seeing as it’s the only lodging in town, yes.”

Freddie laughed and Roger smiled sheepishly, thinking of something to say when you put your hand on his arm.

“Hold on a second, I gotta grab our ride,” you said quickly before heading towards the tables in the back.

Freddie and Roger shared a confused look, having assumed that the two of you would call a cab. You were walking back only twenty seconds later, slipping on your fur coat.

Roger gasped softly and gripped Freddie’s arm, “Fuck Fred, I’m in love.”

Freddie laughed, but his surprise-widened eyes were on the coat too, “With her or the coat?”

“Both,” he whispered back as you came up next to them, joined by a man and woman.

“Okay, quick introductions,” you said, realizing that you were standing halfway obstructing the doors. “Freddie, Roger, this is Chay and Martie. Technically Chay’s my family’s driver, but they’re both more like my siblings that I drag along to things like these. Chay and Martie, this is Freddie and Roger, of the band.”

“Yes, we assumed,” Martie said with a laugh, shaking Freddie’s hand first and then switching with her husband.

“Looks like we should head outside,” Chay pointed out, and the five of you exited into the cool night air. “We loved the set, you all were fantastic. And by the way, she did not have to drag us here, we were rather excited to see you guys ourselves.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind,” Freddie said with a warm smile and it was infectious enough that everyone smiled as well.

“Well, shall we go bring ‘round the car, babe?” Martie asked, always good at keeping Chay from getting too distracted.

“Yes, right, nice to meet you,” Chay said, and they all did their goodbyes.

You turned to Freddie and Roger, “Guess I’ll be leaving in a minute. I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk more, Freddie, I feel like we’d have a lot to talk about.”

“Me too dear,” Freddie said warmly. Then he gave you a pointed look, “But don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again.”

You both knew what he meant, and by the looks of Roger’s flushed face, he did too although he pretended not to hear. It was hard to help the pleased smile that came to your face when you realized Roger must have talked about you to Freddie.

Freddie took a look at Roger and then said to both of you, “I’ll just go say goodbye to Kalaya then.”

He walked away and you took a couple steps toward Roger, until you were only about a foot apart. Roger wasn’t much taller than you, especially in your platforms, but from that distance you had to look up to look him in the eyes. You didn’t say anything, just looked at him and waited until he blushed again and looked down for a second, eyes landing on your coat.

“That coat looks great on you,” he rushed out, tucking a piece of hair behind his hair, which did nothing to calm him as it just reminded him of when you did earlier.

You looked down at your coat too, hands brushing over the soft, brown fur, “You like it?”

“Who wouldn’t?” he said quickly and you chuckled.

“You know Roger,” you stepped closer and put a hand on his arm. “I think we’d have a lot to talk about too. Probably have lots in common. You should call me sometime to figure out all what that is.”

With that, you reached into the inside pocket of your coat and pulled out one of your cards that you always kept handy ‘cause you never knew when a networking opportunity would present itself. You held the card up between your index and middle finger before reaching behind Roger and tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans. You let yourself linger that close to him and drank in his wide eyes, the way his mouth parted and how he seemed to be leaning down closer and closer to you.

“The car’s here y/n!” Kalaya called out to you, pulling both you and Roger out of the moment.

You looked at him once more, touching his arm again and then walking away. Throwing him a smile over your shoulder, you called, “See you later, pretty boy!”

Kalaya and you got into the back of the car and waved through the window to the four boys that were watching you leave. Once they were out of sight you turned to her.

“Good catch interrupting me and Roger then,” you told her.

“Always leave ‘em wanting more, right?” Kalaya said with a grin.

You laughed, “Right, exactly. By the way, things with Brian seemed to be going good.”

“They were, we had a lot of fun talking tonight. I think he likes me,” she said with a hopeful smile.

You nudged her, “I know he likes you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you all night.”

“Same with Roger and you,” she pointed out.

“Well, I know he likes me too,” you said with a smirk and the whole car laughed. “You know if I were the type of person to get embarrassed, that’d do it.”

_____

A week later, during a giant heat wave that left no one able to do anything but sit inside and swelter, Roger called you around 7:00pm. Because you were lying on your bed with a fan pointed directly at you and you had a phone right next to your bed, it only took one ring for you to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, y/n?” you could tell by his voice it was Roger, but you kept that to yourself.

“Yep, who’s this?” you asked pleasantly.

“Roger from, um, Queen,” he said hesitantly.

“Oh, Roger, hello! You don’t have to say ‘from Queen,’ you know, I remember you perfectly,” you told him, sitting up so you were leaning back on your arm. Before he could say something in response, you started again, “So how are you, how are you doing? Have you had any more shows?”

“Good, I’m great. We had two more shows last weekend further north and we’ll have more next week around town--”

“Oh really? I think Kalaya and I would really love to go to another show, we so enjoyed the last,” you interrupted.

“Brilliant, you should definitely come, both of you, I can get you the details,” he returned and you interjected with a quick thanks. “But, what about you? How are you?”

“Ugh I’d be better, but it’s just so hot today,” you complained, flopping back onto the mattress.

“Well what are you wearing?” Roger asked and you grinned.

“Oh, getting a little cheeky are we, pretty boy? Haven’t even gone out and you’re asking what I’m wearing?” you asked mock-incredulously just to make him flustered.

“No--no, I just meant like if you’re hot, like maybe,” Roger was babbling, trying to find the best way to explain what he meant. “Just if you’re wearing layers or something thick or something I just--”

“It’s okay, I’ll tell you,” you said with a giggle. “Let’s see, I’m wearing satin running shorts, that to be honest are too short to run in, and one of those little strappy halter crop tops, you know the kind?”

“Y-yeah,” was all Roger could muster.

“So nothing that’s making me hot. And I’m not even wearing a bra so that’s not making me uncomfortable,” you reasoned as if this were a reasonable conversation.

You could hear his breath quicken over the phone and there was a pause where neither of you said anything.

“Maybe I should just go nude.”

You knew what you were doing, practically torturing the poor boy, but he had been the one to bring up what you were wearing, and it was the truth. But if you were simply answering his question with no impure intentions you would’ve been a lot less descriptive.

Roger made a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh and then that was it so you sat up and kept going, “That reminds me, I’ve just had an idea. Today seems like a write off because it’s too hot to function, but it’s supposed to be cooler tomorrow, are you doing anything?”

He cleared his throat before he answered, “Um, no, I’m not busy.”

“Great! Kalaya and I were going to go shopping but I guess she’s hanging out with Brian instead. You can come with me and offer advice,” you told him.

“You’d want my advice?” Roger asked, confused.

“Yeah, I’ve seen your clothes both onstage and off. You have great style, Roger,” you affirmed and he smiled at the praise.

“Thanks, so do you. Um, that sounds great,” he replied.

“Okay, do you know the boutique on the corner of 10th and Wilder?” Roger hummed yes. “Good, let’s meet there at 11:30?”

“Perfect, looking forward to it,” he said flirtily.

You smiled, “Me too. Well, I should probably go, Kalaya and I are going swimming tonight at my parents’ to make up for her flaking out tomorrow. I’d invite you along, but even though my parents are out of town, they’d definitely hear about their daughter skinny dipping with some random pretty boy they don’t know. See you tomorrow!”

“I… bye,” Roger said, sounding incredibly sad that he couldn’t stay on or go swimming.

You hung up and then immediately rushed to Kalaya’s room to tell her all about the conversation.

_____

When you walked into the boutique at 11:25am, the clerk, Ayan, waved to you, as you were a frequent patron of the store. You had probably already seen all that there was to see, but thought that Roger’s fresh eyes might see something you hadn’t given much thought to before. There were a couple other customers around, but it was a little slow for a Saturday morning so you went to chat with Ayan about any new arrivals while you waited for Roger to arrive.

They were explaining that the boutique had gotten some fur coats from an estate that were in impeccable condition. The boutique was one of your favorites because it stocked mainly independent designers, consignment, and didn’t turn up its nose at thrifted finds of luxury items. In fact, it was where you had gotten your fur coat a few years before from the estate of a well known West End actress from the forties.

“There’s this one really lovely coyote--” Ayan cut themself off, eyes widening as they looked towards the door. “Don’t look now, but some special type of pretty boy is just about to walk in.”

Thinking only one person could fit that description, you looked, smiling as Roger walked in, scanning the store for you.

“You looked!” Ayan whisper-yelled and you couldn’t help but laugh. The sound drew Roger’s eyes over to you and you waved before turning back to them.

“Don’t worry, he’s meeting me. See you in a while with loads to buy under your commission,” you told them, winking.

“That’s why you’re my favorite customer,” they joked and you chuckled as you walked away.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you said cheerfully as you reached him before leaning in for a kiss on the cheek. He kissed you back and when you pulled back his cheeks were the cute pink that you were getting used to seeing.

“Hey, nice shirt,” he complimented.

You looked down at yourself. You were wearing high waisted medium wash denim shorts and a Hendrix t-shirt tied to the side at your waist.

“Thanks, I got it at his concert I went to,” you explained, smoothing it out.

“Where’d you see him?” Roger asked curiously.

“Royal Albert Hall, in ‘69. Me and Kalaya went together, it was a great show,” you said, remembering how it felt to see him perform.

“No way, I went to that concert too!” Roger exclaimed and you laughed excitedly.

“I wonder if we saw each other at all,” you said, smiling at the thought.

“Uh-uh, I would’ve remembered you perfectly,” Roger told you with a bold smile and this time, you were the one that was flustered.

“Should we start? I’m counting on you to find whatever I’ve overlooked in this store,” you said, changing the subject as you turned towards a rack of clothes.

“Do you have anything specific that you need?” Roger asked distractedly as he flicked through the hangers.

“The only need I have is to have all the best things this store has to offer,” you said airily.

Roger laughed and turned to you, saying teasingly, “Anyone ever tell you that you’re spoilt?”

“They usually stop when I pay them not to,” you said straight-faced, but Roger’s laugh made you break and you laughed together, leaning closer until you were sharing the same air and you placed a hand on his arm to steady yourself.

You were just wearing sandals, so Roger was taller to you than the week before and you actually had to tilt your head up to make eye contact this close. Roger’s laughter-brightened eyes looked at your still smiling lips and you noticed, the shift in mood making your breath quicken and your heart race. Under your fingers, the warm skin of his arm made you want to feel that warmth all over, and you wondered how long it would be until you could.

Then another customer brushed by, mumbling an “excuse me” awkwardly and the two of you were pulled away from a moment yet again. Your hand dropped from his arm and he turned back to the rack. It wasn’t long before your chatter started up again, especially as Roger found things that he liked for you to try on.

When he had made his way through the entire store, he had six things for you. He would have had a lot more but most of what he liked you already had.

First up was a black mesh long sleeve shirt that Roger told you to try on underneath your band shirt. It was longer than your t-shirt and you tucked it into your shorts, so your midriff that was exposed by the gap in between your clothes was covered by the mesh.

You came out of the dressing room, holding your arms out for Roger to see and doing a twirl, smiling widely.

“Do you like it?” he asked, smiling to match.

You nodded enthusiastically, “You know, when I saw this weeks ago I had no idea how to style it, but I love this! Very punk, street fashion, I’m a woman of the people.”

“Oh my gosh, never mind, I’m not sure you deserve to wear that,” Roger reached out and grabbed the sleeve, acting like he was going to pull it off.

“Stop!” you said through laughter. “You’ll stretch it out!”

He let you go and you went back in to try on more. There ended up being two dresses that you didn’t like because of color for one and the sheer amount of ruffles for the other. Then a shirt you realized you had in another color at home and a skirt that was itchy. Finally, there was a denim shirt that you didn’t really like because it was so plain. But you put it on anyway, figuring you’d humor him.

It was medium wash, the same color as your shorts, and it had some flowers embroidered in colorful thread which you supposed were nice, but overall it looked blah.

You stepped out of the dressing room again and Roger saw your not-so-happy face.

“What’s wrong?”

You scrunched up your face, “Don’t like it, it looks weird.”

Roger rolled his eyes with a smile, “That’s because you’re wearing it wrong. C’mere.”

You stepped close to him and he said a soft “may I” to which you nodded. His long fingers unbuttoned the bottom two buttons of the shirt. Then he tied it in a knot, fixing the ends so they laid correctly. His fingers brushed your skin and though they were warm, the feeling made you shiver. Roger was moving his hands so delicately, precisely, and you felt a rush of want go through you.

“And since you’re wearing a t-shirt,” even more carefully, he undid the upper buttons, leaving only the middle two done. Then he turned you around to look in the mirror and immediately your mind was changed. The way Roger styled it emphasized your waist instead of hiding it and now the monotone look worked instead of looking drab.

“How do you feel about it now?” Roger asked with a proud little smile.

“I love it, thank you,” you said, looking at him through the mirror.

Roger stepped past you into the dressing room and grabbed the mesh shirt, “Well here are your two finds.”

He handed the shirt to you, but before he could return his hands to his sides, you grabbed one of them, sliding your fingers along his to his palm and feeling the calluses there from drumming.

Roger watched your hand on his and only looked up when you started talking.

“Did you see anything else you liked?”

“Oh, do you want more than these two things? I can look again,” Roger suggested.

You smiled softly, squeezing his hand, “No, I mean did you see anything you liked for yourself? So I can thank you for helping me with these.”

“You don’t have to,” Roger protested.

“I might be spoiled, but I like to do some spoiling myself. I want to get you something, and this shop is too good for nothing to catch your eye. Anything you liked, nothing’s too much,” you told him, thumb rubbing over the back of his hand.

“Anything?” Roger hesitated.

“Anything, Roger,” you said, using your free hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. That seemed to reassure him.

“I did see this display with this really gorgeous…” he trailed off, still uncertain, looking down.

“Really gorgeous… what?” you prompted.

“… fur coat,” he looked up to see your reaction. You were beaming.

“That’s the one Ayan was telling me about, the coyote one, right? It is gorgeous, they'll be so happy that it’s gonna sell already!” you exclaimed, using your hold on his hand to pull him over to that part of the store.

Roger followed you, a little confused about what you said, but glad that you seemed so happy. You let go of Roger’s hand, set your clothes on the corner of a nearby table, and pulled the coat off the mannequin, handing it to Roger. He pulled it on carefully, pulling the sides so they were equal.

“Here,” you put your hands behind his neck and then collected the hair that had gotten trapped underneath the coat and moved it to where it should be. He smiled his thanks and you smiled back, before turning him around to face the mirror he was standing in front of.

You stepped a little to the side of him and watched him look at himself. He let out a little laugh, the kind that meant “damn, I didn’t think I’d look this good,” and you had to agree.

Then he turned back around to you, “Whaddya think?”

You looked him up and down, the desire you felt earlier only growing, “You look… hot.”

Roger was a little surprised at your outright statement, but that was nothing compared to the surprise he felt when you grabbed the lapels of the coat and used them to pull him to you, kissing him full on the lips without hesitation.

As shocked as he was at the spontaneity, kissing you was something he had been thinking about for a while, so he recovered quickly, kissing you back. He put one hand just above your waist and the other on one of your hands, keeping it there.

But before either of you could deepen the kiss, you heard the sound of heels clacking and pulled back. Roger’s lips followed yours, and you giggled, leaning back towards him. You only planned to give him another peck but his soft lips distracted you for another five seconds or so before you remembered what you were doing.

You pulled back, dropping your hands, except Roger kept the one he had been holding and linked his fingers with yours, smiling at you. He still looked clear-eyed and focused after the kiss, so you decided that you had to get him home quickly so you could remedy that.

“So I was thinking we should go ring up and then go to my place. To drop off my new clothes and… stuff,” you said, a bit of a suggestive emphasis on the last word.

“Let’s,” Roger said, picking your shirt up off the table.

The two of you ended up taking off your new finds, figuring it’d be too hot outside for a fur coat and denim shirt, and then headed to the checkout. Ayan was pleased, but not all too surprised that you were taking home the new fur, even if it was technically going to Roger’s home. Roger, to his credit, didn’t have any more trouble with you paying, but insisted that he carry back all the bags. You agreed with the stipulation that he would still hold your hand, which he did.

You only lived a ten minute walk away, and Roger had taken the underground, so you walked the way home. There was chatting along the way, but it was hard to get too deep into any one topic with the feeling of each other’s hands and the anticipation of what was to come distracting you.

Once you got to your building, you were ushered in by the doorman that tipped his hat and wished you both a good day. Then the lobby manager told you a package had arrived and gave you a little thin rectangular box the size of a book. Finally you got into the elevator and the attendant hit the button for the highest floor, yours.

“It’s from my parents,” you told Roger about the box.

“Are they still travelling?”

“Yeah, they should be in Barcelona right about now,” you replied.

“Must be beautiful there,” Roger mused and you hummed in agreement. Then the elevator dinged and the two of you got off, waving to the attendant as the doors closed. You unlocked one of the two doors that were in the hallway (the other was the stairs), and opened the door, ushering Roger in first since he was carrying things.

You took off your shoes to the right of the entryway, next to a pile of other shoes and Roger did the same. Then you grabbed the garment bag that held Roger’s fur coat and hung it on the coat stand. You also took the paper bag with your shirts and put it on your dining table with the package as Roger followed you the rest of the way into your apartment. As you walked about, putting things where they went, Roger was looking around at your place. You had a dining area that turned into a living room with giant floor to ceiling windows on the walls that looked out over the city. Roger was absorbed by trying to see if he could see his building from here when he heard you calling him.

It took him a minute to figure out where you were; there was a long hallway that led to many doors. But it turned out you were in the first off of the dining room which was the kitchen.

As he came into the room, you looked up at him with a smile, “Here, wash up, I cut us up some peaches, if you like them.”

“Love ‘em,” he replied sweetly as he headed to the sink.

“Do you want anything to drink? I have water, soda, tea…”

“Water’s great,” Roger answered and you got two glasses. “I was looking out the windows, you have quite the view.”

“We’ll have to eat this in my bedroom, you can see Hyde Park from there,” you told him and he grinned excitedly, grabbing the bowl of peaches and then walking behind you, nudging you forward with his knee and you laughed.

“Right so, what are all these doors then? Seems like an awful lot for one flat,” Roger teased and you chuckled.

So you pointed to each as you came to it, “Bathroom, office, guest bedroom that Kalaya uses as a closet, Kalaya’s bedroom with an ensuite, closet that also leads to my room--”

“Wait, like a walk-in closet? Oh I have to see this,” Roger said, heading for the door.

“Later, later, I promise,” you said, grabbing his sleeve to pull him back. “We still have the pièce de résistance, my bedroom.”

With that, you pushed open the door and nudged Roger to walk in. He did, eyes quickly taking in your four-poster bed, vanity, bookshelves, record player and collection, chaise lounge, and finally matching windows to the ones in the living room. He walked over to the chaise which was in front of the windows and set down the bowl on the little side table, looking out the windows. You set down the glasses and stood next to him.

“Do you spend a lot of time here?” he gestured to the chaise.

“Yeah, when I’m home alone. I’ll just sit and watch the city live its life for awhile. It’s like people-watching but on a bigger scale,” you explained and he nodded.

So Roger sat down on the chaise, back against the raised end and legs spread out in front of him. He smiled at you and patted the space between his legs. You sat there, your back against his front, but you tilted yourself to the side so you could face each other more easily.

Roger grabbed the peaches and the two of you fed each other slices as you watched the city. It was a quiet and lovely moment with a growing underpinning of desire as the juices dripped down your chins and you kissed away the excess. Once the peaches were gone, you turned more towards him, catching his lips with yours fully once again. The taste of peach lingered on both of your lips, and the kisses were just as sweet as the fruit, just as soft as its skin.

Bringing your hands to Roger’s face, you swiped your tongue along his lower lip, moving it inside when he opened his mouth. Roger made a soft sound and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer until your chests were flush. Your breaths pushed you even closer and the feeling was intoxicating, all your senses consumed by the warmth of the moment. You tried adjusting to straddle Roger’s legs, but the angle of the chaise wasn’t very easy for that, so you pulled back, laughing lightly.

Roger had been even further into the kiss than you were so he wasn’t exactly sure why you were laughing but smiled all the same. This time, you saw his unfocused eyes and the tilted grin on his face and felt very proud of your work. Standing up, you brought Roger with you, grabbing the belt loops of his jeans to pull him with you as you walked backward towards your bed. Then you spun him around, pulling open one side of the gauzy curtains that were draped over the frame of your bed, and pushing Roger onto the bed. He laughed as he landed, scooting back so you could get on as well, letting the curtain fall back to its original place.

The light filtering through the curtains was hazy and soft, painting both you and Roger in amber light. Roger sat so his back was against your pillows and you made your way up his body, straddling his hips. His hands tentatively rested on your thighs, but he looked around your room once more.

“If this wasn’t already obvious, I really like your-- your decor,” Roger’s voice faltered as you took off your shirt, leaving you only in your bra.

You smiled mischievously, “I thought you would, pretty boy.”

***

Then you reached for his shirt’s hem, pulling it over his head. It left his waves a bit of a mess, so you combed your fingers through his hair. He hummed and closed his eyes as you did. When you were done, you threaded your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and leaned in for another kiss. The two of you already had a rhythm of push and pull that made it easy to get lost in the kiss. Your free hand smoothed over the tan skin of Roger’s torso, sliding across his pecs and down to his waist, and you felt goosebumps erupt over his skin, smiling into the kiss.

Roger’s hands moved from your thighs, up your torso to your breasts, feeling your nipples harden through your bra and when you moaned as Roger thumbed them, he smiled as well. Your hands went down to Roger’s waistband and you unbuttoned his jeans, pulling down the zipper and starting to shift them down his body. But his hand over one of yours stopped you and you both pulled back from the kiss.

“Can I… eat you out first?” his request wasn’t what you were expecting, but the look of desire in his eyes and the slout pout of his lips sent a bolt of heat to your core and you nodded quickly, switching places with him.

He did take off his pants, tossing them aside, left only in his boxer-briefs. You could see his hard-on, but he was focused on you. Roger unbuttoned and unzipped your shorts, slower than you had his, and pushed them down your legs with your underwear.

Spreading your legs gently, Roger laid between them, turning his head to kiss up the inner thigh of your left leg. His mouth pressed wet kisses into the skin, making your tummy flip and just when he got to the top of that thigh, he switched to the other. Once he was done with both, he pressed kisses over your slit before dragging his tongue up through your folds. You let out a shaky breath as his tongue pressed on your clit, and you tangled your fingers in the hair at the crown of his head.

Roger formed his mouth around your clit and sucked softly, making you moan lowly. He pressed a kiss to your clit then looked up to you with wide eyes and asked, “Is that good?”

The way he asked wasn’t condescending like he already knew the answer, but more eager like he wanted to make sure it was.

So you hummed and nodded, “Yes, Roger, you’re so good, keep going.”

His mouth returned to your clit and he swirled his tongue around it, making you gasp out, “Oh-- yes, Roger, just like that, fuck.”

The praise made him even more set on making you feel good, so he brought a finger to your entrance, and pushed it in slowly. His mouth didn’t slow on your clit, but he was searching with his finger to find your g-spot, knowing he did when your legs twitched. Roger slipped in another finger with the first, immediately working on your g-spot and the feeling was so strong and so good that it was almost too much and your legs tried to close around him.

But Roger just used his free arm to hold you in place. He kept the same rhythm with his fingers and mouth and the pleasure within you just grew and grew. You could feel the tension in your lower stomach tightening with every brush of his fingers inside of you and every circle of his tongue on your clit.

“Oh, I’m close, Roger, fuck,” you managed to get out and Roger moaned against you, making your breathing uneven. “You’re such-- such a, fuck, a good, oh, such a good boy.”

Roger whined against you and you immediately came, the vibrations spreading hot pleasure all over your body as your back arched and you moaned loudly, tightening your grip in Roger’s hair. He kept going, wanting to make you feel as good as possible, partly because he couldn’t believe how hot it was to see you like that.

You were breathing like you had run a mile, but slowly coming down and you loosened your hold on Roger’s hair, combing through it again. Roger’s hum on your clit made you jump a little so you touched the side of his face to get him to stop; he propped himself on his elbows to look at you.

With a playful smileful you asked, “Did you like that, pretty boy?”

He just looked at you confusedly, so you explained, “Well you’re grinding into the mattress so I thought it must’ve been good.”

Roger’s eyes widened as he realized what he had been doing. He stopped, sitting up quickly.

“It’s okay. No need to be embarrassed,” you told him, sitting up and running a thumb over his pink cheek. “I’m glad you felt good too. Now, why don’t you let me make you feel even better, huh?”

He nodded and swallowed, “Yeah.”

You switched spots with him and leaned down for a kiss, running your tongue into Roger’s parted mouth and getting a taste of yourself in return. Reaching behind you, you undid your bra and took it off. Roger’s hands went to your breasts and you bit his lip when he pinched your nipples, moaning together.

You kissed from his lips to his jaw then down his neck, nipping again on his pulse point and where his neck met his shoulder. As you made your way down his chest, you pressed soft kisses basically wherever you could reach, and Roger squirmed a little underneath you, bright blue eyes watching your actions closely. A few kisses to his tummy and above his waistband and then you took off his underwear with his help, his cock hard and flushed red against his stomach.

Settled on your knees between his legs, and putting one hand on his thigh to steady yourself, you grabbed his dick in your other hand and bent down, pressing kisses along the shaft and then peppering them on the head. Roger moaned softly and you started pumping him and tongued his slit.

You sucked on his head, using your tongue to swirl around it and he groaned, looking at you with heavy-lidded eyes. Pulling off, you pressed a couple more kisses to this head and stroked him, “Such a pretty boy and such a pretty cock.”

Roger’s hips bucked and you hid your smile by going down on him again, not giving him any break. You worked your mouth down along with your hand, building a rhythm that was making precum bead on his head, which you happily sucked off.

Looking up at Roger, you saw that his head was tossed back, eyes closed with his lip between his teeth. You lifted your hand from his thigh up, brushing your thumb along his lower lip so he would let it go. As he did, he looked at you, tilting his head forward. His pupils were blown and he looked desperate as he watched you. You got an idea and a shiver ran across your body. You stuck your first two fingers out and slowly pushed them into his mouth, Roger’s lips immediately closing around them and starting to suck.

Both of you moaned; him around your fingers and you around his cock, making his hips buck again. You took him deeper in your mouth, as deep as you could go, gagging twice around his cock before pulling off again. You let the excess spit in your mouth fall onto his dick and used your hand to spread it around, jerking him off faster than before.

Roger was watching you intently, moaning whenever you twisted your wrist. You licked your lips and swallowed, “Your lips look so good around my fingers, Roger. You’re such a pretty boy, all desperate for me.”

He tried to say something that you could barely make out as “please.”

“Shhh, I got you. Do you wanna be a good boy and come for me?” you asked sweetly, lowering your head back towards his cock.

Roger nodded, keeping your fingers in his mouth, so you brought his head back into your mouth and sucked in time with your hand. You could tell Roger was getting close with the way his hips were shifting and you could feel the vibrations of his moans on your fingers stronger. His thighs were tensing so you pulled your fingers from his mouth, gripping his thigh with your wet fingers, and the slight dig of your nails into his skin set him off as he warned you hoarsely, “I’m gonna come-- fuck.”

He came as you jacked his dick off into your mouth, swallowing his cum as quickly as you could. His high moans of your name ignited a burn between your thighs but you focused on the task at hand. You pulled off, stroking him slowly now and using your tongue to lick any leftover spots of cum off his head. As his breath evened, you pressed one more kiss to his head and then sat up and moved to lay next to him.

***

Roger turned towards you and you kissed him quickly. You tangled one leg between his and started brushing his hair away from his still flushed face. One of his hands rested on your waist, tapping out a simple rhythm.

“You’re-- you’re good at that,” he told you with a little smile.

“Thanks, so are you, pretty boy,” you said, smiling when he flushed. “Are you ever not going to blush when I call you that?”

He looked away, then looked back, an unbelieving laugh escaping him, “Probably not.”

“Good,” you laughed, bringing him in for another kiss.

_

Later, after cleaning up, as the two of you were redressing, Roger remembered that he had yet to see your closet.

“You promised,” he reminded teasingly.

“I remember,” you rolled your eyes, but opened the door and led him in. He stepped in slowly, taking in every inch of very organized racks of clothes, shoes, and accessories with his eyes, which was a lot of inches.

“This closet is literally the size of my living room. My clothes would only fill one rack. Oh, I want this amount of nice clothes,” Roger said wistfully, running his hands across the racks.

“You know, I could help with that, for a small price,” you said with a smile.

“Are you thinking… sex? Because I’m already feeling like your sugar baby with the coat immediately turning into us hooking up,” Roger said and you could not tell if he was joking.

A look of amused shock took over your face as your eyes went wide and your jaw dropped, “I was thinking more like you keep helping me with my own shopping so I focus on finding the best things instead of buying everything in the store, thank you very much.”

“Oh,” Roger said with a sheepish smile.

“And excuse you, ‘immediately turning into us hooking up?’ it’s not like I jumped you in the store!” you said, pushing his shoulder.

“Well, you kind of did jump me,” he countered, stepping in front of you and placing his hands on your waist. You scoffed, not touching him. So he took your hands and put them on his shoulders, placing his back on your waist. You pretended to be mad and looked away, not making any move to separate yourself from him.

Roger leaned closer, only a few inches from your face, “I was gonna say that I wouldn't mind being your sugar baby, it’s a pretty sweet deal.”

“Shut up,” you said with a laugh, looking at him, and he did. “It’s a sweet deal for you because you get stuff and sex. I can get sex from anyone, the only payment worth it from you is your sense of style.”

“Well then I’ll happily pay with that,” Roger nodded. He smiled and you rolled your eyes at his absurdity, but let him press his lips to yours in a kiss that made up for it.

★★★

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[pinkjeanist]

“atop a hill of gold” || shouta aizawa

desc.: A pro hero comes to your shop for four shots of espresso after a long night. He leaves with just that, and then some. [1.6k words]

a/n: this fic has the soft energy that this song has. i named the fic after it but the title was weird so i named it after one of the lines. it’s from one of my favorite lgbt+ movies so theres that. i also havent written for aizawa so sorry if it’s eh. [navigation]

Coffee shops were for people who woke up at five in the morning, people who depended on coffee, and people who depended on coffee because they had to get up at five in the morning. They were also for the occasional tea-drinker, though as exam season rolled around, you were seeing significantly less of those people, or you watched those people become addicted to caffeine just to keep up with their studies. 

It wasn’t often you saw heroes when you were working, though. The shop was nestled between two taller buildings, and the only people who noticed it at all without a map were the shop’s regulars. So when the pro hero Eraserhead sulked through the doors that fateful early morning, you couldn’t help but be surprised.

The sun had just peeked over the buildings across the street, the last of the storm clouds from the night before making way for its grandeur, and the morning dew still clung fresh to the window. The unfamiliar man that had walked through the doors seemed so strangely out of place. Black hair, black outfit, a white scarf wrapped loosely around his neck atop of slouched shoulders. His whole being collided with the golden glow of the morning seeping past the hanging vines outside and above the shop window, as if he were the parallel to dawn. 

You recognized him, but you hadn’t seen much of him on the news- mostly because he worked primarily at night, and because he almost always managed to hide his face from the cameras with the cover of darkness. Because of this, you weren’t expecting him to be so handsome, nor so thoroughly exhausted-looking. The fatigue rolled off him in waves and nearly put everyone else in the shop to sleep. 

Your back straightened as he approached the counter. “Can I just get a black coffee? Four shots, please.”

“Ah. The worst combination of liquids in history for the best effects. What size?” 

“Large.”

“Of course,” You smiled. You put his order into the register. “You look like you’ve had a long night. No time for rest?”

“I’ve got classes to teach,” The hero sighed. You gave him his price and he handed over his money. 

You turned and started on his drink, but spoke before he could walk away from the counter: “Is it too weird to ask what you were doing all night?” 

“Uh...a little, but I’m used to weird,” He replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “It was just a villain. Took all night to track him down.”

“Wait, are you talking about that ‘Shadow Dweller’ dude? The one with the weird little mask?”

“Yeah, that one. It’s kind of hard to arrest someone who can just vanish into the shadows. Took a lot longer than I’d hoped but there’s not much else I could have done, I suppose.”

“His quirk kind of makes it seem like cheating. Pretty OP if you ask me.”

“I mean, you can’t really cheat at life. That’s just his quirk.”

“Look, I’m just saying, if I were a villain, I’d be throwing my manifesto pamphlets from the rooftops instead of sneaking around at night all the time. Kind of a dick move on his part.” The hero chuckled at that. You finished his shots and poured them in before adding some coffee from the pot. You added a few drops of honey to make it a bit more bearable to drink. 

A thought suddenly popped into your head with a heavy feeling on your chest. “Oh, fuck, you get a hero discount. I completely forgot, I’m sorry-” You apologized, hurrying to the register and setting his finished coffee on the counter in front of him, but he stepped forward to stop you.

“No, no, don’t- I don’t really care for the discount. Actually…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet again, taking an unknown amount of cash and sliding it into the jar by the register. “...I should probably give you more.”

“Uh-” Your eyes widened at the numbers on the bills in the jar. “-I mean- thank you so much, but why?”

He looked at you as if you should know. You gripped the edge of the counter. “It was nice to have a conversation with someone after a long night. And I had some cash to spare.”

“I don’t normally get tips for chatting with people. Usually I get some from old ladies when I put extra whipped cream on their drink.” He chuckled at that, and you smiled at the sound. “But really, it isn’t necessary. I don’t think I can accept this much money, as much as I’ve enjoyed talking to you-”

“-but you will. I’ve got no reason to take it back.” He sipped at his coffee and grimaced. You wondered how it didn’t scorch his tongue. “God, that tastes like shit…”

“I warned you,” You laughed, nearly giggling. He took another sip and seemed a bit more tolerant of it, that time. Your grip on the counter tightened as you leaned forward on it. You didn’t mean to look him up and down after that, but the side of you that was going crazy thirsting over him at the moment hoped that he noticed. “You should really try to find some time to rest. I can tell you do this often, and it’s really not healthy.” 

“I think I can go a few sleepless nights if it means keeping villains off the streets. And I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to be.” You met his eye, and he seemed intent on keeping your gaze as he took another drink. You swallowed. Yes. He was really handsome. “I mean, if it ends up getting in the way of your teaching, that could reflect back on your students. Where do you teach, anyway?” 

He leaned his side on the counter and took another sip. “Yuuei.” 

You stuttered for an answer. “Oh- like. Like the school? For heroes?”

“That’s the one. You seem surprised.” 

“Oh, it was just like, uhm...a dream of mine to go there. When I was a kid, I mean. But I never got a quirk, and I started drinking coffee when I was a teen, so...thought I’d just get a business degree and do what I love. Or what I’m addicted to, anyway.” Most people gave you a pitiful look when you told them that little story, but he gave you a look of understanding, oddly enough, though you weren’t sure what someone with a quirk could understand about someone without one. 

He looked down at his drink. “I thought you might have had some sort of manipulation quirk. Altering flavors, something like that. I can kinda taste honey in this.”

“Oh, I did that, sorry. I used to add honey to those drinks all the time when I was cramming for exams in college. Makes it a bit more tolerable. You know.” 

“I know pretty well, yeah,” He agreed. He turned around to make sure there was no one in line before asking, “What’s your name?” 

It took you a moment to register the question before you answered it and asked in return, “What about you? Or do you just go by ‘Eraserhead?’”

“‘Aizawa’ is fine,” He smiled. You weren’t gonna tell him how much that name suited him. You were still on duty, after all.

After a moment of silent decision, he asked, “Can I have my receipt?” 

Your eyes widened. “Oh! I’m so sorry I forgot to ask, I’m just-” You pulled the receipt from the register and handed it to him. “-I’m a little distracted today, is all. I’ve been forgetting everything,” You laughed with an airy nervousness.

“Can’t imagine why,” He smirked at you. He set his drink on the counter. “Can I borrow your pen?” 

“Oh, yeah, of course,” You answered, turning around to the machines behind you to start on your own coffee. You were packing another shot when you heard the pen click closed. 

“I’ll see you around. Thanks for the coffee.” 

You turned around just to watch him leave for the doors before you could say anything. You noticed the receipt still laying on the counter. “Aizawa, your receipt-!” But he was already through the doors. If he heard you, he didn’t bother. You sighed and finished making your coffee. 

Grabbing a rag, you quickly wiped down the countertops before even looking at the receipt. You thought it was kind of a dick move of him to ask for his receipt and then just leave it behind for you to pick up. But when you did pick it up, you noticed the numbers scrawled at the bottom, along with the message: “I get off work at five. Don’t forget to call me” and a little doodle of what looked like a cat next to it. You guessed that was his signature. You made it his icon in your phone contacts.

You supposed Aizawa fit somewhere outside the lines of someone who came to coffee shops because they woke up at five, or because they depended on it, or because of a mix of both. He seemed like someone who came to coffee shops for reasons beyond that of coffee itself. And he definitely wasn’t the first- you’d seen people come to your shop and leave with someone else after a long chit-chat, or leave with someone’s number. You didn’t think you’d ever become one of those people, but you couldn’t complain. Especially when the person who gave you their number signed it with a cat doodle. 

-

taglist: @keigos-dove​ @knifeewifee​ @hanniejji​ @katsukis-sad-angel​ @wesparklebitch​ @bvnnyclouds​

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[flowerspecial]

Jinyoung Imagine: Enemies to Lovers

So you and Jinyoung have been rivals at school for the majority of your lives. You two were constantly fighting about who was going to be number one in your class. What made matters worse was that you were both trying to get into the same university, and the same scholarship. The scholarship can only have one recipient though, so the pressure to succeed was very high.

For the most part, you tried to stay away from Jinyoung. You never saw the need to know his every move. Sure he was your main competition, and it was helpful to know which classes he was succeeding in and which ones he wasn't. However, if you focused on him too much, then you would lose sight of your own studies, and that would be detrimental to your progress.

Of course it was inevitable that teachers sat you two next to each other. Most teachers could not see the burning rivalry between you two, so they thought that it would be a great idea to sit you two together. Their logic was something that you could never refute, however they were very wide of the mark.

“Good morning, are you ready to fail this test and give me the scholarship?” Jinyoung said to you as you sat down next to him. Today was the starting day of a series of very important tests, these tests decided which one of you would be successful in receiving the scholarship.

“Oh Jinyoung, I just love that you continue to undermine me. It makes my victory so much sweeter when you have to realise that I am smarter than you.” You retaliated. You could never be sure how much revision Jinyoung had done for a certain test, but you promised yourself that whatever amount he does, you will double it. Truthfully, your revision schedule had gotten a little bit out of control, you were sacrificing so much in order to achieve this scholarship.

“Your victories are the ones that you imagine, don't you forget for one second that I am top in this class. I will do better than you, and God is it going to feel good when I get that confirmation that I am superior to you.” You were desperate to wipe that smug look on Jinyoung’s face with the back of your hand, but you knew that violence is futile in situations like this. Instead you roll your eyes at him and continue to get all the equipment that you need out of your bag.

When the whole class was ready, your teacher announced that you had one hour to complete the test. In test situations, you hated sitting next to Jinyoung more than ever. He always seemed to fly through the paper, whereas you appeared to take longer to understand the question. You definitely were not one of those ‘natural’ learners, you worked hard to get the results you achieved.

Jinyoung finished his paper with around 20 minutes to spare, you however felt like you were going to run out of time. You could feel Jinyoung’s gaze burning into the back of your head every time you had to pause to think about your answer. It is always devastating when the amount of revision you do does not seem to pay off in exams, but it is even worse when there is this much on the line. You read and reread the questions a dozen times, but it was like your brain had gone blank. The combination of caffeine, sleep deprivation and anxiety was playing havoc with your brain, and you were annoyed that you only had yourself to blame.

Before you could really register what you were doing, you pushed yourself out of your chair and ran out of the classroom. You had already screwed your chances of getting that scholarship, what difference would leaving the test early make? You did not really know where you were trying to go, but you decided that outside would probably be your best option. You found the nearest exit and ran as fast as your lungs could handle. Once you were outside, you looked up at the bleak sky, took a deep breath, and let the tears flow.

You were crouched on the ground, hugging your knees while you cried. You didn't know whether the tears were out of anger, frustration, or sadness. Or maybe there were a twisted combination of the three. You were furious that you let yourself get into this much of a state, you promised yourself that you never would end up like this. You were focused on getting your breathing back to a normal state, so you didn't notice someone walk up beside you.

“You know, if you leave the exam, you've practically let me win.” A voice you recognised all too well said to you.

“Please Jinyoung, I am not in the mood right now.” You pleaded with him. You kept your head down between your knees, not wanting to look at anything right now. Jinyoung crouched down beside you.

“Why did you leave? I checked your answers, they were all correct.” Jinyoung spoke softly, which was in great contrast to how he spoke earlier.

“I don't think I can handle this anymore.”

“Handle what?”

“The pressure of everything. I can't spend every waking moment revising in fear that I am not going to be good enough. I clearly don't have what it takes so I may as well quit now.”

Jinyoung stood up abruptly and grabbed your arm so he could pull you up with him. “Hey come on now, don't talk about yourself like that. You are the most capable person I have ever come across. If you don't have what it takes to get into one of the most prestigious universities in the country, then all of us have no chance.”

“Oh shut up Jinyoung. How can you even say that? You are better than me in almost every class. I’m clearly not as good as everyone makes out to be, and I am killing myself to prove otherwise. I can't keep doing this, not if I am going to fail anyway.”

“You want to know something?” Jinyoung asked, looking down at you. “If all you are studying for is to move onto the next place, then yeah, you are doing it for the wrong reasons. It's easy to beat yourself up when you correlate success with the comparison of your peers. You should want to study because you enjoy learning. Because you enjoy expanding your mind and feeding yourself knowledge.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because I really want you to achieve.” Jinyoung said, very matter of factly. “I know that you think that I hate you, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Ever since the first time you beat me, which was in a science fair years ago, I have always wanted you to go somewhere amazing.”

“Then why do you constantly like to remind me that you are better than me, and are going to succeed more in life?”

“I guess it's because I sometimes forget that people don't thrive on that tactic. I like trying to prove people wrong, and I thought you did too. But now I know that actually trying to prove people wrong is making you ill, I am going to have to try a different method.”

“Oh yeah? And what method might that be?”

“We are gonna be study partners. I will encourage you everyday with compliments and maybe the occasional snack.” Jinyoung winked at you. “I will be your own personal cheerleader, and I will help you get yourself to where you need to be.”

“But why do you want to do all of this for me?”

“Isn't it obvious? I kinda sorta like you…” The rosiness of Jinyoung’s cheeks made you smile, and it was weird to see such a different side to him, but you didn't mind. “But first, we need to do one thing!”

“What's that?”

“We need to persuade the teacher to let you do a retest! We can't have anything like this affecting your grade! Come on let's go!” Jinyoung took your hand in his and practically marched you back to the classroom.

It was weird to think that Jinyoung liked you, you hated to admit that some cliches were real. But you couldn't deny that there was something that attracted you so much to him, and it is not like you were going to deny this beautiful boy being your own personal cheerleader. There are worse people to have by your side!

[a-simple-imagine]

Rose’s Girl

Requested by @kileyrose-2003:  I was wondering if you'd be willing to write a Rose the Hat imagine where the reader goes in a relationship back and forth between members of True Knot, mainly Crow Daddy, and Rose finally gets jealous enough she does the whole "You're mine, Y/n."

Pairing: Rose the Hat x fem!reader, lots of Crow Daddy x fem!reader

Words: 4.3+

A/N - This may not be exactly what you wanted sorry. I hope you enjoy it either way. I didn’t mean to end it with sex 

Warnings - Swearing, kidnapping, sexual references and elements of smut towards the end (nothin too explicit) 

With a tattered copy of The Last Werewolf by Glen Duncan discards by your side, you sit snuggled between the open legs of Crow Daddy who was on a lawn chair just behind you; enjoying the heat radiating from the campfire. You bought the book on the long drive up to the current campsite the True Knot was occupying. You and Andi took a detour into a small bookshop where the owner, who wore the cutest kitten jumper and had to have been in her sixties, recommended it when you asked for something a little different. After a few chapters, you weren't quite sure what to make of it but you were determined to finish it. Right now, however, all attention was on the marshmallows at the end of the stick in your hand hovering over an open flame. Twisting it slowly to ensure a completely golden brown coverage. Believing them to be just right, you pull back and pluck one of the white treats off the end. Sticky white marshmallow goo covering the pads of your fingers as you pop it into your mouth. The next one you offer to the man behind you. Holding the stick up for him but he just shakes his head. Signaling to Andi who was sat a few people away from you on the other side of the fire, she tosses you an unopened bag of graham crackers. Combining the crackers and a marshmallow with the milk chocolate bar you had stashed away for later, you create a reasonably sized S'more. Looking up at Crow again, you offer him the improved snack but not without taking a bite first. He accepts it this time, probably out of courtesy more than anything else. You appreciate it either way. You make another one for yourself, finishing it off in two bites before letting your head fall to rest against Crow's clothed thigh. You liked nights like this, where everything was simply at peace. It could be described as the calm before the storm. The time before everything had to be packed up so you could move on to a new location. Everyone was doing their own thing. Andi and Apron Annie we're chatting as Annie roasted marshmallows. Barry was throwing things into the fire rather recklessly. Silent Sarey walks into the light of the fire, sitting down next to Andi. Grandpa Flick was around somewhere too; you could hear the music coming from his radio.

"Do you wanna come with me tomorrow?" You look up, waiting for him to continue.

"Where?" You eventually ask although the answer was going to be yes. You liked doing things alongside Crow when they weren't strictly business-related.

"Find the kid." He replies casually. "Last check. Make sure we've got the right one?"

Watching the flames of orange and red dance, you nod a little. "Yeah," Both palms against his thighs, you push yourself up and onto your feet. Brushing off the crumbs from your s'more, you collect your book. "You coming to bed?"

Wishing the others goodnight, you come to a halt when you spy Rose the Hat in the dim light of the candles around her. She sat alone on a cushioned bench right beside her Earthcruiser. You wonder why she didn't come over but maybe she just wanted to be alone. Offering her a smile, you're not even sure she can see before pushing her to the back of your mind. Recently you had been spending most nights with Crow and tonight would be no different.

Early morning darkness peeked through the gap in the curtains and you wake from your slumber. Crow snoring softly beside you, he's turned away with a blanket covering most of his body and one arm resting over your back. You close your eyes in an attempt to go back to sleep but after a while, you decide to get up. Slipping carefully out from under him, Crow groans a little and you freeze. With the coast clear, you creep towards the door and exit the camper in search of a change of clothes. The sun was beginning to rise casting a dull glow over the campsite. You imagine everyone else is still sleeping as you stroll over the grass. It was so... quiet. After you had changed, you decide to head back to check on Crow Daddy. Surely he's awake by now.

"You're up early." Twisting on your heel, you see Rose; reaching up and stretching out her arms. Your tired eyes drift over her taking in everything from her long boho skirt adorned with a flower pattern, to the snug t-shirt that said 'Weekend Wine Club. New members welcome' in large black letters. You could tell she wasn't wearing a bra. Her trusty hat sat upon her messy sleep-disturbed hair. "We never normally see you before noon."

"Got a job to do today," An amused smile settles on your lips as you meet her silver eyes. You did like to sleep in but where was the harm in that? Early birds catch the worm but you much prefer when someone else does the work for you.

"Oh," The word seemed more sarcastic than surprised. "And what would that be?"

Before you could respond, two arms wrap around you and pull you closer. "Mornin' ladies," You recognise the voice as Crow. "You ready to go?"

"Morning," you peck his cheek. "Yeah. I was just coming to get you actually. Some of us have been up for hours." You tease, turning back to the other woman as you push out of his grip. "Bye Rose."

Rose offers up a tight-lipped smile but you think nothing of it, waving dismissively and head for the Jeep. Pulling on the handle before waiting patiently as the two of them converse in a hushed tone. They often did this but Crow was basically second in command so you sort of just accept it for what it is. He finally unlocks the car as he heads towards you, the feeling of being watched radiating from the woman left behind. You keep your eyes on her as you pull away and she does the same.

"How far away is the kid?" You mumble - half grumble - leaning down against your hand. The sun had come up now, gracing the land with its early morning light. There were few clouds in the sky and even fewer cars on the road. The radio plays a tune you couldn't place no matter how hard you tried. It was a strange mix of country and rock. Time merging with the endless stream of trees that seemed to surround you. You were getting bored, trees could only hold your attention so long; the river you zoomed past was pretty though. You really should have brought your book, maybe that would have helped kill some time.

"Not far. Can't you tell?" You shake your head a little. Glancing to him and then back at the endless forest.

"Never been good at the whole GPS in my head thing." You explain with a little shrug. It wasn't entirely a lie but it was more like you never actually tried. It was a skill you didn't think you had. Before joining the True Knot, you hardly used your abilities at all. Cheating on exams mainly. You also enjoyed spying on people's thoughts when the boredom got too much. You had heard some pretty sick things over the years but it was mostly just mindless drivel. "Never needed it."

"Not everyone can do it but it's pretty basic." He states matter-of-factly. You'd laugh if you didn't think he was being condescending.

"Yeah well..." your voice drifts off since you don't really have an excuse; shrugging your shoulders. A short silence comes between the two of you filled by the lyrics of the song that was now more rock.

"We're about an hour away. If we find the kid, we should be able to pack up and be gone by tomorrow night."

"Good," you declare with a heavy sigh, spying something which you think is a fox darting among the brambles. "I'm starving."

"It's been a couple months since we had steam. You shouldn't be that desperate,"

"That last kid wasn't all that steamy," you fire back, thinking about the night in question. It had been three months, maybe four if your memory can be trusted and sure you've gone longer without it but you shouldn't have to. You didn't want to. "And Rose is so strict with the canisters."

"She knows what she's doing," He explains. If there was one thing Crow was good at, it was making excuses for Rose. You were pretty sure Rose could do just about anything and he'd find a way to justify it. Not inherently a bad thing, they had a good relationship. It was just a little annoying sometimes.

"Are we running low?" The car screeches to a halt at a small clearing in the woods. Tall trees tower over you in a way that makes you feel suffocated. You spot a few log cabins in the distance as well as group of rubes gathered around a wooden picnic table. It seems your question would go unanswered so you move on to a more obvious one. "This is the place?"

"You can't tell?" You roll your eyes, getting fed up of him not answering your questions.

"Which one is it?" You look to him, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.

"Figure it out."

You stare at him like he's just said the most ridiculous thing you've heard in a long time. Was he not listening to you earlier? "You know I can't."

"Try." You turn back to the camp; wondering what kind of place it was? It seemed like a camp for kids which was cute. How long had it been here? Probably a while. Did many rubes come to visit? How many were here right now? You didn't fancy knowing the answer to that one. "Just close your eyes and focus."

Air pulled sharply into your lungs, your eyes snap closed in order to humor the man. The trouble with your abilities is that they didn't come with an instruction manual. Everything was a matter of winging it so right now, you had no idea where to start. You didn't know what you were looking for or how it was supposed to feel. And so it only takes a minute or two for you to give up. "I can't do this."

"Yes you can, Y/N." He replies firmly, "just relax."

There's a part of you that wants to be honest and actually learn but there's an even bigger part that just wants this to be over. You try to figure it out through Crow, surely he already knows but you're not getting anything from him. Knowing him, he's probably blocking you out. You take another deep breath but this time you actually focus on locating the rube in question. There should only be three people in the immediate area with enough power to satisfy and two of them were sat in this car. You just had to single out the other one. The music dies down around you and a hand gently rests on your thigh, squeezing softly. An image - a feeling - pops into your mind, brief but long enough for you to get a clear picture. "Do you know who it is?"

"Yes,"

"Is it the small blonde with pigtails?" You wonder, slowly opening your eyes again. You don't expect to be right. "Ca- Casey, no Cassie... maybe?"

He nods but in a way that tells you he's not really listening anymore.

"For real?" Your surprise is evident in your voice. It had been much easier than you thought.

"Yes. We give off a kind of signal to each, maybe it's a survival thing I don't know, but we're drawn to each other like metal to a magnet."

"I'm certainly drawn to you," you hum, lips curling up into a smirk. Crow clearly wasn't in the mood for messing around right now.

"They're going on a hike tomorrow. We can grab her then."

Your little adventure came to a quick close and you returned to home base more than happy with yourself. "I wanna tell Rose," There's a hint of excitement in your voice that you fail to hide as you practically leap out the Jeep. You were hoping for praise even if Crow did help out a little bit. Walking through the middle of the camp, you ask around before heading to her door. Knocking twice before barging in. You don't know what you were expecting to see but she was just sat on her bed. Her legs crossed, with what you think is a cup of tea in her hands.

"Did you find her?" Were the first words out of her mouth. She didn't even look up at you.

"Yeah," you reply happily, shutting the door behind you and waking further inside. "Crow helped me with my tracking so I'm basically a pro now."

"You've been spending an awful lot of time with Crow lately." Her eyes flicker to yours as she lifts the cup to her lips. "What happened to the others?"

Your brow furrows. Others could mean literally anyone so you stay quiet.

"What about Snakebite Andi? Weren't you cozying up to her not long ago? And even Silent Sarey at one point?"

"Does it matter?" You inquire. It was none of her business but you're curious as to why she feels entitled to bring it up. "Crow and I are just having some fun. He's.... cool-"

"And a real good fuck." She interrupts loudly. Heat pools in your cheeks but she's not wrong. "Tea? I just brew a fresh pot."

"Uh..." You shake your head. "No thanks."

"There's no need to be shy, Y/N. I've been there and so have you... more than once apparently and also with half this campsite."

A humorless huff of a laugh falls past your lips. The thing about living for a long time was that monogamy could become kind of tedious. Hundreds of years with the same person may seem romantic in theory but in practice, it would become less so. There was love, sure but there was less pressure when it came to sex. You personally found yourself in a situation were you just drifted in and out of a casual relationship with other members of the tribe. The funny thing was that it actually started with Rose; back when she turned you, she became your everything. Things between the two of you actually lasted a while but one day she just... changed. "What's your point?"

"I just don't want you causing problems." Her eyes narrow in and you shift your weight uncomfortably. She was being weird. Why did she care who you slept with? Was fucking Crow an issue because they were close?

"Is that the only reason?" You wonder, letting your playful side take centre stage in case this backfired. "Or are you just jealous that I'm not kissing your ass anymore."

Her hands tensed around the mug. "Watch your mouth."

"Or what?" You challenge, offering her a smirk. "You'll spank me?"

She laughed, more like a giggle than an outright laugh but it was nice. For a moment you thought she was actually mad. "Don't tempt me," She took a slow sip of her tea before placing it down. "Bet you'd like being bent over my knee."

"If I remember correctly," you pause, pretending to think about it. "you're the one who said I was too needy and pushed me away in the first place."

"That didn't mean go fuck everyone else," she snapped before regaining her composure. You had been messing around before but there was no doubt now. You didn't know if it was of you or Crow but Rose was definitely jealous.

"Fuck you, Rose." You hold up a middle finger as you exit her RV. That wasn't how you expected that conversation to go at all. She's allowed to fuck anyone she wants but when you do it, it's suddenly an issue? You half expected her to come running after you, not in a cute romantic comedy way but more in a threatening 'don't speak to me like that' kinda way.

"What happened?" Crow asks as you march past him.

"Go ask her."

As the sun begins to set, you're sat in Crow's lap. After a mug of hot chocolate, you had calmed down significantly and let the argument slip from your mind. You lick your finger, flipping to the next page in your stupid werewolf book. Crow's arms were wrapped around you, keeping you in place as he chats with Grandpa Flick. You don't really notice her at first but she was kind of hard to ignore.

"Come to chat with the commoners, oh so powerful leader?" Sliding your fingers between the pages of your book to ensure you don't lose your spot, you close over it over in order to give the woman your full attention. "Don't you have a dark corner to brood in."

"Ha ha." She utters sarcastically. "I came to talk to Crow. Maybe you should run along so the grown-ups can talk, yeah?"

"What's up?" Crow squeezes you gently, his head resting on your shoulder.

"I was serious." Rose growls, giving you a look. You glance between the both of them, slipping down off his lap. Still had to respect Rose to some degree. You watch them from afar for a moment wondering what they were talking about. Was it about the kid? About you? Or about something else entirely? You'd never know.

Everything was packed up pretty quickly and you were speeding down the back roads by lunch. Tossing Cheetos into your mouth from the passenger seat of Rose's camper; watching  the world go by as you lead the charge. She had insisted you ride with her and you really hadn't the energy to argue. For most of the ride you had kept to yourself, finishing the last few chapters of your book but when that had come to its thrilling conclusion you started playing with the mic. You were trying to tell Andi, who was riding with Sarey, all about the events of The Last Werewolf but Rose kept going on and on about how she may need it for something important. She ended up using it to formulate a plan with Crow. And so you were left listening to the generic pop song that had started on the radio and wondering why you hadn't ridden with Crow instead. You liked Rose but she was quiet today and the tension between you was icy. It hadn't taken long to secure dinner, you didn't even have to leave the Earthcruiser. In an abandoned lot far enough away from the summer camp to not be suspicious, you feed for the first time in what felt like forever or more accurately a few months. You were given shovel duty alongside Annie but you don't mind. Once you were done, you just got back in the RVs and moved on. Heading to the next location miles away from the last. The tribe taking a break at a rest stop to refuel. The place was practically a ghost town. There wasn't much around so you expect that to be why. Perusing the stock of the gas station, the man behind the counter's stare follows you around the store. He obviously didn't trust you and in some ways he was right not to but you'd never steal anything from here so you were pretty offended by the notion. The selection of candy and treats were too great that you just couldn't decided. Eventually you opt for a bag of gummy bears which just so happen to be Vegetarian. Not that it made a difference to you. You also grab some grapes that you found in the fridge, they were purple and came in a little sealed plastic tub. Returning to the RV, the other woman had been waiting. She smiles warmly as you step in and you smile right back. A long discussion follows on why you consume so much rube shit when you don't need to. It was a matter of indulging yourself more so than anything else. You could eat whatever you wanted and not have to worry about the consequences which is like every rube's dream.

The thing with having just taken steam is that it not only made you look young, it made you feel it too so you were sat with energy to burn. There was a certain element to it that made you very... frisky too which was never a bad thing. So, when you finally stopped for the night, it was kind of expected that you'd end up naked in her bed. Crow probably figured that too when you explain how you'd be ditching him for Rose although they weren't the words you used at the time. Your breathing was raged and you were covered in a thin layer of sweat but this was the best you'd felt in ages. Almost in tears over how good it felt. Dark, silver eyes met yours from between your legs. Peppering wet kisses in a winding trail as she crawled painstakingly slowly up your body "You're mine, Y/N." She whispers softly in your ear, lighting a fire inside you. This side of Rose was one you hadn't experienced in a long time and you were loving every second of it. Every touch like a spark of electricity. She knew what you liked and it showed. "Only mine." The nibbling on your ear drifted to your neck. Taking her time before moving to a new spot. She was obviously marking you but didn't care to stop her especially when it felt so good. The others could probably hear the two of you anyway; you weren't exactly trying to stay quiet. You probably couldn't even if you tried. Her teeth pierce the skin, the pain sharp and you immediately push her away.

"You're being too rough,"

"You like it rough," She wasn't wrong. Reaching up, you hold her face in your hands admiring her before connecting in a slow and gentle embrace; tasting yourself.

"Crow's always so gentle with me." You whisper against her lips. Wanting, so desperately, to get a rise out of her. Fuelling her jealous side. She pushed you firmly against the mattress, stranding your hips.

"Is that right?" She questions, holding you in place for a few seconds. Her fingertips dancing gently over your chest. You didn't dare move and she knew as much. "Is he better than me?"

"Verdicts still out," you reply, shrugging your shoulders just a little. "I think you're gonna have to prove yourself."

"You're playing with fire, little one." There was a smirk on her lips as she ghosted your lips. "Best be careful you don't get burned."

You never liked that phrase. Her smile faded into the night, meeting your eyes. Her body was considerably less tense. "Did I hurt you?"

"You're good, maybe just don't bite so hard."

"That I can do." Slithering back down your body, she pauses around halfway. Kissing the spot just below your belly button before looking up at you. You let out a groan of impatience that utterly amused the leader of the true knot.

"Tell me, Y/N." She started, using her forefinger to draw invisible shapes over your stomach. "Who do you belong to?"

You knew the answer she wanted. You also knew the correct answer. And then there was the one that would piss her off. "Not you,"

Rose sighed softly. "You best change that answer if you ever want this to happen again."

"Plenty of other options." You muse, smiling up at her. Rose watches for a moment and then with a firm nod, she starts to climb off you.

"If that's the case then," You grab her wrist before she can leave. Looking at her with sad eyes and a little pout.

"No- wait." You want to pull her back into bed. "I'm sorry but you can't just leave me like this."

"Oh, sweetie." She pats you softly on the cheek. "I think you'll find I can. Maybe think before you speak next time."

"Rose," You whine, squirming underneath her. "Please, baby. I want you."

"I almost forgot how much I like making you squirm." Rose chuckles playfully. "Do you ever beg for Crow?"

You shake your head. They were two very different people when it came to sex but both good. "He can probably hear you begging me to fuck you." She told you quietly. "All needy and wet for me."

You close your thighs, rubbing them together in an attempt for any kind of friction. Rose gently taps you on the nose, a stark contrast to how rough she was being earlier. "Stop that right now."

You do as you're told and she gets back between your thighs. Cries of pure pleasure ring out from your throat. You forgot how good she truly was but then again, maybe that was the steam talking. It always felt fantastic after steam. Either way, you didn't want it to end anytime soon and knowing Rose, it probably wouldn't.

Tired and a little sore, you wake up enveloped in Rose's arms. Running a hand clumsily over your face, you toss over and nuzzling against her chest. She felt warm and safe and you wanted nothing more than to drown in it. Rose squeezes you gently, a lazy kiss placed against your temple. “My good girl.” If you could live in this moment, you would. Your breathing evens out and you begin to drift back to sleep Maybe it wasn't so bad being Rose's girl... at least for now.

[buoyantsaturn]

One Kiss Away From Killing (1/1)

summary: Nico rolled his eyes. Will asked that during every checkup, and at this point Nico knew that he actually meant, Are you fitting in? Are you making friends? “It’s been ten years since I was changed, Will. I think I’m fitting in as well as I’m going to.”

word count: 3213

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Nico’s lip was pushed back with the end of a Q-tip, exposing his long, pointed tooth. After a moment, the Q-tip moved to the opposite side of his mouth, showing off the identical tooth there.

As he pulled the Q-tip away, Will asked, “How’s life in the Midnighter community?”

Nico rolled his eyes. Will asked that during every checkup, and at this point Nico knew that he actually meant, Are you fitting in? Are you making friends? “It’s been ten years since I was changed, Will. I think I’m fitting in as well as I’m going to.”

Will huffed, like that wasn’t the answer he wanted. Nico knew it wasn’t. “Involuntary changes can affect you psychologically for the rest of your life. That’s a very long time for you.”

“Yeah, and I’ve dealt with it, I’ve learned from my mistakes.” He grinned, intentionally showing off his fangs. “Now I know that there’s a type of creepy old man you can’t trust.”

Will pouted, but didn’t otherwise react to the sight of Nico’s fangs - which he appreciated. Will reached out for Nico’s arm and pushed his sleeve up, revealing discolored skin, mottled with burn scars. Will’s touch was light, but Nico’s skin was still sensitive despite the slow healing over the course of the last year. “How’s the sunburn feeling?”

Nico snorted. “Don’t call it sunburn. That makes it sound like I forgot to put on sunscreen, not that I was poisoned.”

“Sun poisoning sounds so extreme,” Will argued. “It only would’ve killed you if you’d been exposed for, like, two more minutes. So, how’s the healing coming?”

Will’s fingers grazed one of the worst scars, and Nico tried to suppress a flinch. He had started to consider Will a friend, and friends didn’t flinch away from friends - at least, that was how Nico felt things should be. Will was one of the only Daylighter friends he had left after being changed, and Nico didn’t want to do anything that might make Will start to think differently about him.

“Good as it’s going to be,” Nico told him.

“Have you been using the ointment I prescribed?”

Nico dropped his gaze. “...No.”

Will sighed. They had both already known the answer. “You have to use it if you ever want this scarring to go away,” he said, pushing Nico’s sleeve up further until he found the edge of the burn scars. He met Nico’s eyes before saying, “Doctor’s orders.”

Nico pulled his arm back out of Will’s grasp and shoved his sleeve back down. He looked around the room, anywhere he could that wasn’t at Will. “Is that all?”

Will took a step out of Nico’s space and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “No, there’s one more thing. Your sister invited me out with some of her friends, so she’s probably going to come for you next. You know, just a head’s up.”

“Thanks.” Nico hopped off the exam table and crossed to the door. “I’ll see you around.”

Nico left the clinic, and, with a quick glance at the height of the moon in the sky, gauged how much time he had to get home before the sun rose. He had plenty of time, though he still hurried back; he wasn’t going to let himself get caught in the sun again.

Nico was woken at dusk by the sound of someone banging on his front door. While vampires didn’t really sleep, Nico had never gotten out of the habit of sleeping the day away. So each morning he laid down in his bed - his coffin, which had been in the house when he’d moved into Midnighter territory - and essentially zoned out until nightfall.

Groggily, Nico made his way toward the front of his house, though he stopped just around the corner from the door to shout, “Who is it?”

“It’s your sister,” Hazel’s voice replied through the door.

“Come in.” As Nico said the words, he stepped further around the corner, now completely protected from any sun that might’ve bled into the house. He didn’t reveal himself until he heard the door shutting behind Hazel as she entered.

“I wouldn’t have come by while the sun was still up, you know,” Hazel pointed out, crossing her arms and cocking a hip.

Nico rubbed unconsciously at his burned arm. “Just being cautious.”

Hazel pursed her lips, then relaxed her stance so that she could hug her brother. As she pulled back, she set her hands on Nico’s shoulders. “Okay, so, I know you just woke up, but you should eat something and change your clothes so you can come out with me.”

“Why would I go out to hang out with you when you’re already here?”

Hazel’s arms crossed once again. “Because we haven’t hung out in so long, and Jason and Reyna are going to meet up with us. I know you haven’t seen them in forever.”

Nico rolled his eyes overdramatically and groaned out, “Fine, I guess I’ll come. But next time we’re staying in and watching a movie or something.”

“Deal. Now go get changed! We’re meeting everyone back in Daylighter territory in an hour.”

Nico flinched at the thought of going into Daylighter territory, knowing that not everyone was as accepting of Midnighters in their territory as his friends were. He tried to take his time getting dressed, but there were only so many variations of dark jeans and black shirts that he could combine before it became redundant. Once he was dressed, he made his way back out of his room, passing by Hazel - who had made herself comfortable on the couch - on his way to the kitchen.

He grabbed a bag of blood out of the fridge, drinking it cold despite how horrible it tasted when it wasn’t at body-temperature. He tried to drink it fast, knowing how uncomfortable it made Hazel to see him drinking blood. Once he’d finally sucked down the entire bag, he made his way back into the living room to let Hazel know he was ready to go, to which she responded, “Took you long enough. Let’s go!”

Hazel’s car was waiting out front, so she drove them into Daylighter territory. Nico tried not to shrink in on himself as they crossed the territory border - it wasn’t illegal for a Midnighter to cross over into Daylighter territory, or vice versa, but that didn’t mean that Nico wouldn’t get harassed if anybody realized he wasn’t one of them.

They parked across the street from some night club that Nico knew he wouldn’t enjoy just from the look of it. The slow growing feeling of dread Nico felt deep down in his stomach only increased when he noticed not only Jason and Reyna waiting outside for them, but Piper and Thalia as well. He tried to put on a happy face as he greeted everyone, though he stopped bothering after the bouncer gave him a dirty look when he showed his Midnighter ID.

While the rest of the group went straight to the dance floor upon entering the club, Nico went to find a table somewhere that he could sit and watch. He got bored quick, and desperately wanted a drink just to have something to do while he sat around and waited for everyone to tire themselves out, but he didn’t want to expose himself as a vampire to anyone else in that room unless he absolutely had to.

He was so focused on wishing he had a drink that he didn’t hear someone walk right up behind him until a familiar voice said in his ear, “I told you she would come for you next.”

Nico flinched, and his head snapped toward the sound of Will’s voice - the blond was leaning over his shoulder, pointing a beautiful, bright smile his way. “I, uh, completely forgot you mentioned it, honestly,” Nico replied after a moment of processing.

Will took a seat across from Nico and set his drink down on the table, his eyes scanning the crowd of dancers until recognition showed on his face. He turned back to Nico. “I didn’t realize you had so many Daylighter friends.”

Nico shrugged. “Not that many. They’re just the ones that stuck around after I changed. You’re probably the only Daylighter friend I’ve made since then.”

Will dropped his gaze and took a sip of his drink.

“Hey, how did you get into Midnighter medicine, anyway?” Nico asked. “Most Midnighter doctors are Midnighters.”

Will set his glass back down on the table and started running his index finger through the condensation that dripped from his glass. Nico didn’t think he’d ever seen Will look so uncomfortable, and immediately regretted bringing it up. Eventually, Will shrugged half-heartedly. “I dunno. There’s lots of Daylighter doctors. I figured Midnighters needed another.”

Nico tended not to stay out with his Daylighter friends longer than an hour or two, but something about having Will there made him want to hang around longer. However, the Daylighters of the group, having been awake the entire day and now halfway into the night, soon became exhausted and decided to leave. And, well, Nico and Will weren’t just going to stay there without their friends.

The group split up outside the club, most of them headed further into Daylighter territory while Will and Nico ventured off toward Midnighter territory. Nico hardly seemed to think anything of the fact that Will was still walking beside him even as they crossed the border, despite knowing that a Daylighter like Will would most likely live in Daylighter territory.

After a few moments of silence passed between them, Nico asked, “Do you live in Midnighter territory?”

Will looked at him like that was the oddest question he could have asked. “Uh, yeah? I’m not going to commute all the way from Daylighter territory.”

“Oh, right! You work here,” Nico remembered. “I, uh, didn’t know Daylighters were allowed to live in Midnighter territory.”

Rather than answering, Will’s attention was drawn to the building they walked past. “Hey, are you hungry?”

Nico glanced at the restaurant, his steps stuttering as Will came to a stop outside the front door. “Um--”

“Oh! Sorry, the restaurants downtown probably have better blood banks, right?” Will rambled. “You would probably rather go somewhere else than at a border restaurant. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Nico told him. “I just, uh-- Doesn’t it creep you out that I, you know, drink blood? I mean, Hazel and I can’t even have dinner together anymore because she thinks it’s gross.”

Will frowned. “Of course it’s not gross. It’s how you survive.”

“Oh.” Nico hesitated before tossing a thumb over his shoulder. “There’s this place a few blocks from my house that serves breakfast all night.”

“Sounds great,” Will said, a smile slowly blooming where his frown used to be.

If Nico had a beating heart, he was sure that the look on Will’s face would have caused it to skip a beat or two.

They started making a habit of hanging out after that, sometimes meeting up for dinner when Will got off work, sometimes going to each other’s places for movie nights. The first time Nico went to Will’s, Will had opened the door with a, “Hey, Nico! Come on in!”

Nico had replied, “You know the whole ‘inviting vampires inside’ thing is a myth, right?”

“Is it?” Will had asked with a frown.

Nico shrugged. “I dunno. Everybody’s always invited me in, so I’ve never had the chance to test it.”

Since then, Will had stopped inviting Nico inside, though Nico never had a problem entering his apartment. He figured that his invitation would remain until Will rescinded it.

Will had ordered a pizza before Nico arrived, and he’d even started stocking bags of blood in his fridge for when Nico came to visit, but Nico still snagged a slice of Will’s pizza before he sat down on the couch. It didn’t benefit him in any way to eat Daylighter food, but he still liked to indulge himself every so often.

When Nico finished eating, he said, “It must be weird for you to spend all of your time walking about at night instead of during the day, right?”

“Hey, I pull all-nighters just like everybody else,” Will replied, tossing a crumpled up napkin at Nico from across the couch. “Or, uh, all-dayers?”

Nico snorted. “All-dayers?”

“Shut up, are you going to pick a movie or not? It’s your turn.”

“Fine.” Nico leaned against Will’s side to grab the remote, and stayed there while he flipped through Netflix. Eventually, he picked some cheesy horror movie and settled back against the couch, sitting much closer to Will than he needed to be.

About twenty minutes into the old, inaccurate, Daylighter monster movie, Will asked, “Don’t these old vamp movies bother you? I mean, they’re so inaccurate!”

Nico shrugged. “They’re kinda funny, don’t you think?”

Will pouted as he watched the evil vampire caricature on screen put a woman under a trance so that he could drink her blood. Will cringed at the sight. “It’s one thing if they’re using facts, but vampires can’t even put people under trances! It’s just baseless fear mongering!”

Nico snorted. “Oh, you think we can’t put people under trances?” He raised a hand and placed it on Will’s cheek, turning his head to meet his eyes. “Look into my eyes, Will. Look very, veryclosely…” Will started to lean in toward him until they were practically nose-to-nose, and Nico flicked Will in the forehead.

“Ow!” Will flinched back and rubbed at his forehead. “You tricked me!” He grinned as Nico started laughing and continued, “You evil vampire!” He pinched Nico’s side, causing him to squeal in laughter as he fell back against the couch cushions. Will leaned over him, pressing himself close. “You’ll never get my blood!”

Nico pushed at Will’s chest like he wanted him to move away, but his fingers twisted in the front of Will’s shirt and ended up just pulling him closer. Before Will knew it, he was tipping down and pressing his lips to Nico’s.

This time, Nico did push him back, his dark brown eyes huge with fear as he scrambled to get out from underneath Will. “I-- I gotta go--” Nico stuttered, rolling off the couch and darting toward the door.

“No, wait! Nico, I’m sorry!” Will called after him, though Nico didn’t even slow down. Will jumped to his feet and ran to the still-open door, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of Nico, then noticing the subtle lightness of the sky. “It’s sunrise,” Will whispered, dread sinking into his limbs, knowing that the chances of Nico making it home before the sun rose were slim to none. He’d already endured so much sun exposure - any more could kill him in seconds.

Will ran as fast as he could, screaming Nico’s name until he was sure his throat would be raw soon enough.

He found Nico standing in the middle of the street, only about a quarter of the way back to his own home. He was frozen in place, staring up at the trees where the sun would soon break over the horizon.

“Nico!” Will called, but Nico didn’t even flinch. Will hurried forward, his heart pounding in his chest even harder as he was momentarily blinded by the rising sun. He couldn’t outrun the sun, of course, and soon he watched as the light landed on Nico and Nico’s knees buckled.

Will caught him just before he hit the ground. He scooped him up in his arms and turned back the way they’d come, keeping his eyes up and on his destination instead of looking where he wanted: down at the fragile vampire in his arms, who was no doubt steadily turning to dust.

Will burst back through his front door, slamming it behind himself and dropping to his knees with Nico on his lap. He finally allowed himself to look down. Nico’s skin was red and wrinkled anywhere the sun had touched him, and he wasn’t moving a single muscle - Will couldn’t immediately tell whether he was dead or undead, not without breathing lungs or a beating heart.

“Nico, can you hear me?” Will asked, bringing one hand up to Nico’s cheek, though the top layer of skin flaked away under his touch. “Nico, please!”  

Will pried Nico’s mouth open and pricked the tip of his finger on one of Nico’s teeth, allowing a few drops of blood to drip into Nico’s mouth. Nico coughed weakly, and Will’s heart restarted. He lifted Nico up until he was sitting rather than laying in Will’s lap, and guided Nico’s mouth toward his neck.

“Drink up, Nico, please,” Will whispered, running his fingers through the hair at the back of Nico’s neck until he felt the sharp pricks of Nico’s fangs breaking his skin. Will winced at the sudden pain, and quickly got used to the feeling. “That’s it, drink as much as you need. Fresh blood is the best medicine for any vampire, after all.”

Just as Will felt himself growing light-headed, he pulled Nico off of him, and Will keeled over as he lost consciousness.

Nico woke up. He hadn’t woken up since he was human, unless he counted waking up in the Midnighter clinic after his bout of sun poisoning. But this wasn’t a Midnighter clinic. This was a bedroom, but it wasn’t his own. He had never been in this room before.

He tried to sit up, but as soon as he moved, his limbs caught fire - no, not literally. It felt like sun poisoning, only a thousand times worse. He fought through the pain until he managed to sit up against the headboard. Nico looked down at himself, noticing that he’d been stripped down to his underwear, and his bright red skin was coated in some kind of cream.

The room around him brightened as sunlight poured in from the window, shining over the floor and across the sheets, hitting Nico’s legs.

He screamed. He didn’t feel any pain, which only made him scream louder.

The door burst open across the room, and Will ran inside, dropping onto the bed at Nico’s side and forcing a bag of blood to Nico’s lips.

“You’re okay, Nico,” he told him reassuringly. “Just drink up, you’ll be better soon.”

Despite the pain of moving, Nico shoved the bag of blood away. “Will, what’s going on?” He felt like his heart was pounding in his chest, but there was no way that was happening - he wasn’t alive! “What’s happening to me? I’m… I’m all burned up! But I’m sitting in the sun! Something’s wrong, Will!”

“I can explain,” Will told him, his voice matching the panic in Nico’s. “You were out in the sun, so I brought you back here, and-- I think you were almost gone, Nico, so I fed you my blood to make sure you wouldn’t...you know!”

“Your blood did this to me?” Nico asked. “But...how is that possible? You’re just a Daylighter! What’s happening to me?”

“Nico, please just listen to me for a second,” Will begged, placing his hands to Nico’s cheeks to hold his attention. “I’m...not a Daylighter.”

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[fanficwriter013]

The Tower

The Tower: An Avengers Fanfic

Chapter 1

Chapters:  one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / twelve / thirteen / fourteen / fifteen / sixteen / seventeen / eighteen / nineteen / twenty / twenty-one / twenty-two / twenty-three / twenty-four / twenty-five / twenty-six / twenty-seven / twenty-eight

Tower Masterlist

Word Count: 2330

Warnings: Smut (F/F, fingering slight dom/sub)

Synopsis: How does someone with no superpowers, no real discernible talents and a whole lot of baggage end up being the girlfriend to all the Avengers?  Well, I’m glad you asked.  It all started with a blur and an abrupt crash. Here is the initial meeting, and the events that follow.

Author’s Note: Bug Kate @emilyevanston about the gorgeous Header, she made it. This story is NOT a Nat X Reader. It’s an Avengers X OC piece, which means a poly relationship. There will be many different combinations of pairings within this story.

How does someone with no superpowers, no real discernible talents and a whole lot of baggage end up being the girlfriend to all the Avengers?  Well, I’m glad you asked.  It all started with a blur and an abrupt crash.

As usual, I was late.  That happened a lot.  I tend to get caught up in my head while I’m working in the lab or the library.  Which is a problem because as part of my post doctoral position I had to teach an Intro to Biology class six times a week.  I was dashing down the steps of the library, across the lawn and just smashed headlong into another person.

All I really noticed as I picked myself back up, helped her to her feet and apologized profusely was she was small, dressed in black and had dark red hair.  She didn’t really even say anything to me, just ‘don’t worry about it’ and I took off again.

It was as I stood panting in the lecture theatre, getting the slideshow started for the lecture I realized how close I came to death that day.  The woman I had flattened was the Black Widow.

Nothing notable happened over the next few weeks.  I worked in the lab going through blood samples and went through the results of my tests in the library trying to get some papers written so I might actually get some more publications out.  I wrote lectures and delivered them to my classes of 300 odd students.  I set assignments and exams.

Then one day I was giving my lecture and I scanned the crowd and there was that red hair sitting right up the back.  It took a moment to register and when I looked back it was gone again.  I wrote it off as not having enough caffeine that morning.

A month later, I was having lunch in a coffee shop not far from where I lived.  I had one of my notebooks open and I was focussed pretty intently on it.  I didn’t notice when she sat down opposite me.

“Hi.”  She said and I looked up at her and nearly jumped out of my skin.  She was dressed casually today.  A light grey t-shirt over jeans.  Her hair loose and falling in waves down her back.

“Oh my god.  I am so sorry.  It was an accident.  I swear.”  I babbled.  Feeling fairly certain she’d tracked me down to exact her revenge upon me.

She smirked at me.  It was an expression that made her look adorable and sexy and deadly all at once.  In that exact moment, I developed an all consuming crush on Natasha Romanoff of the Avengers.

“I’m not here because of that.  Or maybe I am a little.”  She said, reaching over the table and touching the back of my hand.  “I think you're cute.”

I think for a second my brain short circuited.  I’m not sure if she noticed or not.  What I said back was.  “Oh, okay.”   You know, like that was just a normal thing to be told by Black Widow.

“My name’s Natasha, you’re Elise right?”  She said, with a small shake of her head like she’d realized how huge of a dork I am and actually found it a little charming.

I squeaked.  An actual squeak sound bubbled up from my chest and escaped out of my mouth.  Right in front of Black Widow.  “Yes.  How did you know?”

“I’ve been watching you.  Needed to be sure before I asked you out.”  She answered.

The memory of the red hair at the back of the lecture hall returned.  “You were in my class.”

“That’s right.”  She answered.

“You wanted to ask me out?  Like on a date?”  I asked.

“Mm hmm… It would need to be low key though.  I get a lot of looks these days.”  She said, nodding her head backward.  I glanced around the coffee shop and noticed a lot of people looking over in our direction.  Some trying to be subtle about it.  Others who just had their phones out and were taking photos.

“I could make you dinner if you like.”  I suggested, not ever realizing that a) she hadn’t asked me out yet.  And b) I hadn’t accepted the offer.

It made Natasha laugh though. The sound made my stomach flip.  “Are you asking me out instead?”

I nodded.  “Yes.  Would you like to come to my place for dinner?  Maybe on Friday?”

“I’d love to.”  Natasha agreed.  “I need you to know something though.  I’m not monogamous.”

I chewed on my lip processing what she just told me.  “So like, you just want a one-time thing?”  It seemed strange that she would have gone to so much effort tailing me for a one night stand.  But I figured that the life of an ex-assassin, super spy, founding member of the Avengers was probably more complicated than I would ever be able to wrap my head around.

Natasha gave a subtle shake of her head.  “Not at all.  I wouldn't call myself the girlfriend type exactly but a few other people would beg to differ.”  She said.  “I'm polyamorous.  There are a few people I see.  Kind of a group that are all together.  But I’ll also go out of the group too.  Usually, I don’t date outside the group though.  Just hook up.”

I furrowed my brow a little, looked down at myself and back up at her and scratched my head.  “And you’re making an exception for me?”

“Maybe.  We’ll see.”  She answered rather cryptically.

That was the start of my relationship with Natasha Romanoff.  She took it quite slow, to be honest.  We did low key like she wanted.  Mostly she just came by my apartment and I’d cook or we’d order in take out.  It felt more like I just had this new badass friend for a while.  She bitched about work.  She talked about the other Avengers.  She listened to me geek out about science and rolled her eyes every time I made a stupid pun.  But nothing physically happened for weeks.  We touched no more than a couple of close friends might.  Just hugs and a little innocent hand holding.  Sometimes she sent me text messages that contained a picture of a cute animal and just ‘Clint made me do it’.

I really liked her though.  I wanted more, but I was fine if this was all she was willing to give.  Natasha had an air about her.  You could adore her and worship the ground she walked on and if all she ever did was glance down in your direction from time to time it was enough.

It was a month before things changed and when they did it happened all at once.  We didn’t have a first kiss and then a make out session and then feeling each other up.  We went from 0 to 100 in 3 seconds flat.  With Natasha, I would expect nothing less.

She came around to my apartment after getting home from a mission.  She’d never come directly to me before after one.  She has other people she sees.  Ones she’s known longer.  Ones she is more physical with.

She had a bottle of vodka in a paper bag and just collapsed on my couch.  “I am exhausted.”  She sighed.

I went and grabbed some shot glasses and put them on the table.  She filled each of them and we took a shot.  “You want me to make you something to go with that?  Or I could order in?”

Natasha shook her head and leaned down to unfasten her boots.  “In a bit maybe.  I just wanted to hear how my girl’s doing?”

“I’m fine, Nat.  Nothing much new to tell.  Exams are soon.  So I’ve been writing that.”  I replied, watching Natasha.  She started to rub her thighs with her fists.  “I’m your girl?”

Natasha looked up at me and smiled.  “One of only two.  Well, maybe three if you count Maria, but she’s worse than me when it comes to being labeled.”

All I could think was ‘but we have never had sex, how am I your girl?’  Then I wondered if maybe Natasha was asexual and wasn’t aware that friendship was a thing.  Or there was something I was missing here.  What I said was; “Can I help you with that?”

Natasha put her legs up into my lap and I positioned myself between them. I lifted one leg onto my shoulder and started to knead her thigh.  She let out a low graphic moan.  “That feels really good.”

“I’m good with my hands.”  I joked, looking down into her green eyes.

I kept rubbing her legs, my hand moving higher, ever closer to her cunt.  I stopped before I touched her there and looked at her.  “I really like you, Natasha,”  I said quietly as my hands sat dangerously close to her sex.

Natasha sat up and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me down on top of her and crashing her lips into mine.  We kissed hungrily and passionately, biting and sucking at each other.  She rolled me over and I fell onto the ground making an involuntary ‘oof’ sound as she landed on top of me.

“I think we should take this to bed.”  She said, looking down at me.  Her pupils were blown out with lust.

I nodded my head and she helped me up and pushed me against the wall.  I’m actually five inches taller than Nat, but she still dominated me.  I was wearing a dress that day.  It was a light blue sundress with white polka dots.  Natasha tore it off me so fast one of the straps snapped.   She was wearing her catsuit.  It was only something I saw her in once before.  I think she must have just taken off her weaponry and come straight to me.  I hurriedly unzipped it and pushed it down.

When we were both just in our panties, Natasha spun me and walked me back towards the bed.  We kissed the entire distance and even as we crawled up onto the mattress.  She slipped a hand into my panties and started running her fingers up and down my folds.  I went to do the same to her and she grabbed my hand and pinned it over my head.  “No, mishka.  I want to watch you.”  She scolded.  “I want you to hold onto the headboard and not move your hands until I say so.  You can do that can't you?”

“Yes, Natalia,”  I said quietly, moving my hands to the headboard and bracing them there.  I'd never called her that before.  I always just called her Nat or Tasha or just some random pet name that popped in my head.  But the way she was telling me what to do flicked some switch over in me and I just wanted to be good for her.  I knew Natalia was the more formal version of her name and I wanted her to know that she was the boss and I would be good.

A half smile played over her lips and she ran her tongue over them.  “Moyà khoróshaya.  So good for me.”  She purred, and she brought her lips to mine.  Her fingers teased at the entrance to my cunt before moving back up and circling over my clit.

She slowly fingered me as her mouth trailed over my neck and chest.  Sometimes her lips just ghosted over my skin making me break out in goosebumps.  Sometimes she sucked dark red marks on my skin.  When she reached my breasts I was dripping for her.  My body trembled and my cunt ached for relief.  She pushed two fingers inside of me and I gasped, tensing up under her.  I was just starting to relax again when she bit down on my nipple.

“Fuck, Natalia!”  I cried out as my back curved off the mattress and my hands gripped the headboard tightly.

“That’s it, myshonok.  Let it happen.”  Natasha cooed.

I relaxed back down and she started stroking her fingers hard over my g-spot.  She sucked my nipple into her mouth and pressed her teeth on it sending a jolt through me.  She then switched to the other nipple.  I couldn’t focus.  My hands opened and closed on the headboard and I started to writhe under her.  My legs tried to close so I could escape my impending orgasm.

“Oh no, plokháya dévochka.  You be good for me now.  You don’t want to find out what I do to bad girls.”  Natasha scolded, forcing my legs open for her.

Part of me really wanted to find out what she did to bad girls.  Not this time though.  This time I was going to be good for her.  I let out a slow breath, giving in to her.  “I’m sorry, Natalia.”  I whimpered.

She brought her head back up and looked down into my blue eyes with her green.  “That’s my girl.”  She purred, grinding her knuckles into my g-spot.  “When you come, I want you to say my name.”

I nodded, completely unable to form words at this point.  My whole body was just on the edge.  My legs trembled and my toes curled.  I kept my eyes locked with Natasha’s though.  “Oh fuck… fuck… oh god…”  I chanted.  She sped up her thumb on my clit and her fingers pressed hard down on my g-spot and dragged over it.  It was like a dam burst inside of me.  I came hard, arching right back.  “Natalia!”  I screamed.

She kept stroking me through it and when I finally settled she pulled her hand away and licked her fingers.  “You look very beautiful when you come, mishka.”  She purred.  “Now, if you feel so inclined, you may return the favor.”

I licked my lips and wrapped my arms around her neck.  “I definitely feel so inclined.”

[4nimenut]

tagged by @missmizpah (here), @star-tear (here), @kurapls (here), @leio13​ (here) and @aja154ever (here) !! thank you for the tags /// sorry this took a while hehe! ;;

Rules:

Post the rules

Answer the questions given to you by the tagger

Write 11 questions of your own

And tag 11 people

55 QUESTIONS IM GONNA DIE LOL LETS GOOOOO

Emily’s questions:

1. Opinion on nuts?

cashewnuts...... are the bomb............................

2. Favorite book genre?

usually fantasy! and anything that rips my heart out with feels ༼ ༎ຶ ෴ ༎ຶ༽

3. Worst injury/illness?

sprained my ankle ligament twice so far,,,,,, uuu (´；ω；`);;,,,, otherwise i guess... chicken pox?

4. What attracts you to someone platonically?

how much they’re willing to talk to me (+ put up with my anxiety nonsense...!) ( ᐛ )و

5. What was the last dream you had?

i got brutally beheaded in the midst of war as a sacrificial act..... thingy.. ww

6. Are you someone who eats cough drops like candy?

nnnnno i hate cough drops ASDFGHJKLOLーー

7. Native language?

english / chinese!

8. What size shoes do you wear?

usually 6.5/7! (∩´∀｀)∩

9. What is your current hair length?

i cut my hair not too long ago soーit’s about slightly longer than shoulder length at the moment! 

10. One habit you’re sure is specific to you?

chanting “chuuya on a motorcycle” at least once everyday like a mantra LOL

11. How far would you swim out into the ocean?

IF YOU’RE DROWNING OUT THERE I’LL SWIM TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE OCEAN TO SAVE YOU ヽ(；▽；)ノ actually please don’t count on it i haven’t swam for a while now LOL

Star-san’s questions:

1. if you were offered a perfectly written fan fic for any pairing of your choice, what au/trope would u choose?

Σ(ﾟДﾟ) weeEEEH

let’s see...... is there shigatsu!skk yet?

2. opinion on pineapples on pizza

stay away from my pizza pls. p l ea s e

3. stickers on laptops or nah

i don’t --- stares at laptop covered in laptop sticker + yoosung sticker on my laptop 

wait a minute――

4. sweet or savory

i like both, but too much sweet will make me feel sick so... 

i guess, savory!! (/ω＼)

5. opinion on melon soda

i’ve yet to try out melon soda for myself ｡ﾟ( ﾟஇ‸இﾟ)ﾟ｡ someday---!!!

6. are u the type to have 10 different types of pens and just use one

.......... more like, 10 pens of the same type and end up using one o)-(

exams have taught me to be ready for anything orz

7. would u rather be known as proud or ignorant

ignorant, i guess---! i’m quite the ditz 99% of the time as well so /w\ also people won’t suspect me coming in with angst / chuuya on a motorbike aAAAAAHAHHASWEATS

8. thoughts on cliche shoujo tropes

im only here for the pose references k what r u doing calling me out

9. what time is it

1:11...... on 11/11 in my area.... happy pocky day guys

10. do the trees change color for autumn where you are

NNASJAS WE DONT EVEN HAVE AUTUMN HERE IM SHOOK

11. what team?

chuuya on a motorbike

Kura’s questions:

1. Do you prefer hot summers or cold winters?

here it’s really just summer all year long so i think it’d be nice if i get the chance to experience cold winters for a change--!! (^^♪ though my body get cold pretty easily so i’m not sure how long i’ll last x.x

2. Name one otp, one notp, and a rarepair (any fandom)

[persona 5] shukita, kamoann;;;;?? , futago (sibling theory pls)

3. Are you watching any anime right now?

i’m having finals at the moment, but i intend to catch up on shokugeki no soma and bnha, and start a few others afterwards ^^

4. Would you rather have infinite food or never have the need to eat again?

INFINITE FOOD PLS LET ME BE HUUUUMAAAANNNNN ｡ﾟ(*´□`)ﾟ｡

5. Fic tropes that make you the saddest.

hurt / comfort, angst, death, terminal illness

6. Grab an object to your right. What did you grab?

my wallet....!! (∩´∀｀)∩

7. Pick 1 character you want to punch and 1 character you want to adopt

punch dazai, adopt atsu

8. Could you take care of a plant or does everything you touch die?

i usually get cactus because they’re easier to maintain...!!

9. What was the last dream/nightmare you have?

i dreamt that i was in japan x.x!! my friend who’s in japan at the moment sent me pictures of japan’s landscape and i couldn’t stop thinking of them...... sweats////

10. 1 thing on your wishlist

canon skk onegaishimaplease

11. Night showers or morning showers?

morning showers! i feel like if i take a night shower, i’ll end up falling asleep even more because of the really cooling feeling ;;

Rika’s questions:

1. Do you know oyashiro-sama?

nnnnnnno who’s that ;;;SWEATS

2. Do you like york peppermint patties?

i...... admittedly, haven’t tried one before so i can’t say anything much ;;

3. What’s your favorite joke?

myself

4. What would a combination of your favorite and least favorite tropes be like?

death by rape--- wait a minute

5. What’s the rom-com-harem-light-novel title of your life?

shao takes another turn for the worse

6. On a similar note, pick 5 members of your harem

me, watashi, i, ore, boku

7. What is your favorite meme?

MATH LADY AHAHAHHAAHA

8. What character unexpectedly grew on you? Why?

i’d say probably atsushi!!

he’s the main protag yes but he’s such...a pure cinnamon roll... and his character development throughout the series...!!!! i ended up finding to have a soft spot for jinko ;w;

9. What would you do if you had the powers of Bobobo-bo Bo-bobo?

wait who’s that ww

10. Now what if your hero partner had Bobobo-bo Bo-bobo’s powers; what power would you have in order to complete their ability?

s-sweats i think i don’t follow---

11. On a scale of 1 to how-high-are-you-Rika?, how would you rate these questions? (By the way, I’m not high)

6, perhaps?

Aja’s questions:

1. If BSD’s your main fandom, what’s your 2nd? If it’s not, then what’s your main?

persona 5!

2. What do you think about people who don’t put tags on their tumblr posts? (If you are that person, I want to hear your thoughts on this lol)

wwwwwhy would you not put tags on your tumblr posts hhHHH it makes things easier to search up later ヽ(；▽；)ノ

3. If given the chance, would you want your favorite anime character to become real?

if skk became real i think i would really die KJSGAGSJ im content with just 2d ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` )

4. Your country (if it’s okay to reveal, if not, make us guess)

singapore! ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

5. Have you expressed appreciation to your favorite blog recently? If not, I encourage you to send them an ask or msg now, anonymous or not. 😊

i have! thank you for the reminder, though, it’s super lovely!!  (´∀｀)♡

6. Soar the sky or dive the ocean?

soar the sky!! i want to feel the thrill of flying in the winds nyahahha--

7. 15 x 7 = (don’t use calculator nor pen&paper)

105?

8. For you, what’s a sight that’s more beautiful than a sea of stars?

chuuya being an edgelord on his motorbike

9. The most good-looking anime character (I know it’s hard, if you can’t choose one, narrow it down to 3)

chuuya--- ok fine dazai

10. Msg to your future self

keep working hard and don’t give up no matter what happens!! you’re doing good right now and you’ll be able to continue at it ヾ(*´∀｀*)ﾉ

11. To end this, what makes you happy? Now, keep thinking about that thing, my dear. 😊

chuuya on a motorbike

in all seriousness, one of the biggest things that really, really makes me happy is seeing people like my art (and even going so far as to comment in tags) so thank you to everyone who’s supported my art thus far! i wouldn’t have been able to keep going until now and strive to do my best otherwise ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

 i love you guys so much!!!!!!

(feat my p5 ask blog lololol)

i knocked out halfway through this whole list aaAAA IM REALLY SORRY wwwww here’s my 11 questions ;v;/ !

1. have you ever gone to a live concert? 2. what are some of your favourite songs / singers / bands / composers? 3. vocaloid or covers? 4. have you gotten enough sleep lately? 5. fluff or angst? 6. what motivates you to keep going? 7. to that end, has there been any occasion where you felt like giving up? 8. dark or white chocolate? 9. what are some of your hobbies? 10. name three OTPS! 11. are you doing well lately? (i hope you are! ♡)

tagging: @star-tear, @kurapls, @sumeragimikoto, @adargo, @excitable-nugget, @aja154ever, @missmizpah, @leio13, @araminthe-ispwitch, @akashikuroko, @onelovelysin

[jokessho]

[Update]: Seven plus one Chapter 2

Sorry for the long wait, but I wanted to get started on chapter three whist everyone was busy with Kyousei. As always, feedback is appreciated :)

Chapter 1 (Tumblr)

FFN

AO3

-o-o-o-o-o-

“Ugh.” Yamato groaned lightly, feeling an elbow in his side. Blearily, he opened his eyes, throwing a half-hearted glare at the brunet sleeping next to him. He scooted closer to the edge of the bed, turned onto his side, and closed his eyes.

Half an hour later he was awoken by Taichi kicking him in the ankle.

With a tired sigh, Yamato sat up, nudging Taichi further away; Yamato was sure he’d next wake up to falling off the bed if he ignored Taichi.

“Ngh.” Taichi mumbled.

Yamato prodded a bit more, until Taichi cracked open an eye.

“Wha?”

“Move.”

Taichi blinked both eyes open, taking in his location. “Oh.” He shifted back to his own half of the double bed, turning his back to Yamato.

Yamato, too, settled back down—only to wake up an hour later to Taichi’s breath on the back of his neck and Taichi’s arm squeezing his waist.

Eyes closed, Yamato let out a long, silent breath. He was tired, he was sick, his head felt like it was full of fluff, and he didn’t want to bother with fighting. Instead, he snuggled further into Taichi’s hold.

The next time Yamato woke up, it was to the familiar chime of his phone’s alarm going off. He reached up, slapping a hand over the patch of ground he normally kept his phone on. His eyes shot open in surprise as his hand met with a softness. He pushed himself to sit up, scanning his surroundings. A room.

“Ugh, shut up.”

Yamato’s eyes travelled to the young man lying face-down next to him.

What?

An irritated brown eye peeked up from the white pillow. “Are you turning that thing off or will I have to break it?”

“Ah, sorry.” Yamato dived for his phone on the floor. The chiming stopped.

“Thanks.” Taichi snuggled back into the pillow.

“Gods.” Yamato muttered, rubbing his face aggressively, before chuckling. “I completely forgot where I was for a moment. Scared the shit out of me.”

Taichi peeked up again, amusement replacing the earlier irritability.

The two held eye contact for a good minute before Yamato snapped out of it, realising he had to get to school. He jumped out of bed, digging through his duffle bag and extracting his uniform and toothbrush. He paused.

“Bathroom’s right across the hall.”

Yamato nodded his thanks, walking out of the room. No sooner had he entered the bathroom than Taichi barged in after him with a dark green towel.

“Here, if you want to take a shower.”

Yamato took the offered towel, eyes glued to his hands fiddling with it. “Thanks. For everything.”

Taichi just smiled, turning to head out of the bathroom. “It’s really not a problem and you should stop thinking it is.”

Upon the door closing, Yamato brought the towel up and pressed his face into it. The action did nothing to stop the smile from spreading across the blond’s face, but it did suck up a stray tear. His emotions really were all over the place these days…

Snapping to attention again at the realisation that he needed to hurry, Yamato quickly stripped and made his way into the shower cubicle. Once the initial cold burst of water was down the drain, Yamato stepped under the stream. It had been ten days since he’d last had a proper shower. That had been at Takeru’s house…

Brushing the thoughts away, Yamato made quick work of getting clean. He brushed his teeth whilst pulling on clothes, though the combination of tasks didn’t work quite as well as he had hoped.

Yamato looked himself over in the mirror, making sure he looked presentable enough for school, before pulling the door open. Taichi was standing on the other side, holding toast in his hand.

“Breakfast.” Taichi announced, offering the bread to the blond. “It’s not much, but it’s the best we have. Someone needs to go shopping...” The last part was said to the floor, but Yamato took note of it.

“I don’t usually eat breakfast…”

Taichi looked up, shoving the toast closer to Yamato’s face. “But normally you probably eat dinner. Last night you hardly ate, so now you will. Besides, Jou thinks you’re chronically ill since you’re so skinny.”

Yamato took the toast, nibbling on a corner, trying to stop his lip from trembling.

“Hey,” Taichi stepped closer, placing a soft hand on Yamato’s shoulder. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Yamato shook his head vigorously, still fighting the tremble and tears.

“No, really, Yamato, I’m sorry. Is something wrong? With your health, I mean.”

Yamato shook his head again, swallowing thickly. “No.” His voice cracked, so he took a moment to compose it. “Sorry. No, I’m not ill; I just kind of stopped eating when dad got too—” He stopped again, drawing tight breaths.

With sympathy covering his face, Taichi wrapped his arms around the thin teen. “I’m sorry.” He felt Yamato shaking his head against the shoulder he was buried in. “Maybe you should stay home today. Are you even feeling better?”

Yamato took his time before answering: “Yeah, I feel fine.” He pulled back from Taichi, eyes closed. “Sorry, I need to get going. I don’t wanna be late.”

Taichi smiled. “Grab your bag and let’s head out. I’ll be walking you to school, since you probably don’t know how to get there from here.”

“Thanks.” Yamato mumbled, moving back into Taichi’s room for his book bag. He walked back out to Taichi’s grin, bag in one hand, toast in the other.

“Shall we?” Taichi asked.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

The pair stopped in the foyer to put on their shoes before stepping out of the house. Yamato got his first look at their neighbourhood. It was full of large houses, each fenced off from the other. The fences were too high to see over and had no gaps to see through, giving each house a sense of privacy. The road running in front of the houses was quiet and there was no separate sidewalk. It was probably rarely busy.

“It might take a while for you to recognise our house, so I can come pick you up from school, too, if you don’t mind.”

Yamato smiled at how Taichi had referred to it as their house.

“Yeah, that might be a good idea as we should probably go shopping. If no one else does it in the meantime.”

“Oh, yeah, I already forgot about that. And you should really be the one to go shopping, since you’ll be cooking.”

Mouth full of toast, Yamato only nodded in reply.

“That way leads to Arby’s, it’s the longer route, which goes along the main road.” Taichi pointed to the left. “You were staying at the park over that way, so you probably walked to school down this way.”

“Yeah, I recognise the road.” Yamato confirmed, looking around at the familiar bushes. He had finished his toast, quite grateful that Taichi had had the foresight to make him some.

“Did Jou mention he works at Arby’s and that’s how he knew you were at the park and knew to help you?”

Yamato’s attention snapped to Taichi. “No, he didn’t…” Yamato frowned. “I thought you said that he was a doctor.”

“Ah, well.” Taichi laughed nervously. “He’s not actually a doctor, but he did have to learn a lot of medical stuff to take the entrance exams. He quit that career path when his parents got mad at him for failing, but he still knows all the stuff he learnt.”

“Hn.” Yamato returned his attention to the road ahead. “I was under the impression that he tried again and got in.”

Taichi shrugged, grabbing a stick from on top of a brick wall. “Well, now you know.”

“Yeah.” Yamato threw a quick glance at Taichi before looking away. “What jobs have you done? And what will you be looking for?”

Taichi’s attention was on the stick in his hands; he was fiddling with it and breaking off pieces to drop onto the ground. “Well my last job was working as a cleaner for a few apartment buildings, but I quit because it was so early in the morning and the pay wasn’t that good.”

Yamato waited, watching Taichi pick at the stick from the corner of his eye. “So…?” Yamato prompted once it became clear that Taichi wasn’t going to elaborate on his own.

“Huh?”

“What are you looking for now?”

“Oh.” Taichi threw the stick into some bushes, placing his hands behind his head. “I was thinking of working at a café or something. The hours would be better and I would actually get to interact with people. Being a cleaner was lonely.”

The school came into view, grounds saturated with students. It was probably almost time for the bell to ring.

“Well,” Taichi said, dropping his hands to his sides and smiling at Yamato. “This is it. I’ll come pick you up later, so wait for me, okay?”

Yamato smiled and nodded. “Of course. See you later and thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Taichi watched as Yamato entered the school grounds, joining the mass of students. Yet, the blond stood out from his darker peers, so Taichi was able to keep an eye on him until the blond head disappeared through the main doors.

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts, Taichi started making his way back home. He really shouldn’t have quit his job so hastily; he should have started looking for a new one before letting his boss know he was leaving.

Their group of friends had been doing well money-wise when all the five adults had been working. But now that Taichi was unemployed, they would have to watch their expenses more. On top of that, it was the end of September so they would have to turn on the heating soon. And they had taken Yamato in. There was no way Taichi would ever regret helping the blond, but he was an extra expense…

Taichi entered the house, toeing off his shoes. He stopped short at whom he saw in the foyer. “Hikari. Where are you going?”

“Hi Taichi, welcome back.” Hikari smiled, slipping on her shoes. She tapped her left toe against the ground to adjust the shoe. “I’m off to the streets.”

“Hikari…” Taichi groaned, running a hand over his face. “You know I don’t like you begging.”

The small girl frowned. “We need the money and you know it.” Her face split into a mischievous grin. “Nobody can resist me.” And she was out the door.

Taichi groaned, walking further into the house.

“What’s up?”

Taichi looked up to see Jou watching him from the entrance of the kitchen on his left.

“Jou, I didn’t know you’d be up already.”

Jou shrugged a shoulder, sipping at his coffee. “Koushiro had a nightmare and he wanted me to check him over. He’s sleeping again and Hikari’s just gone out.”

“Yeah, I saw her.”

“Ah.” Jou acknowledged the grumpy tone, letting the subject drop. “Yamato was feeling better?”

Taichi stretched his arms above his head, walking into the kitchen, causing Jou to re-enter as well. “Yeah, I showed him the way to school and I’ll be picking him up, too, so we can go shopping.” Taichi reached into a cabinet, pulling out his own mug and filling it with the coffee Jou made. “I should have made him some coffee…”

Jou’s eyes widened. “He didn’t have breakfast? Why didn’t you feed him?!”

Taichi turned in surprise, almost spilling the milk he was adding to his coffee. “No, no, he ate. I made him some toast, but I didn’t think there would have been time to make coffee.”

Jou frowned. “We didn’t have anything more nutritious?”

“Nope, that’s why we’re going shopping later. Now if you’ll excuse me,” Taichi turned to leave the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. “I have to go hand out CVs.”

“Good luck.” Jou called after him.

Taichi walked into his room, setting the coffee on his desk. He pulled open the top drawer, extracting a thin folder; it contained the CVs he had printed out a few days ago. He checked them over whilst sipping on his coffee.

An hour later, he was showered, dressed smartly, and out the door. He had already dropped off a few CVs the past few days, but he wouldn’t stop until he had secured at least one job. His prospects weren’t very good, as he’d only completed the compulsory nine years of school, but he didn’t let that discourage him. His age was also usually more of a hindrance than an asset, but he wouldn’t be 18 forever.

Humming to himself, Taichi marched in through the doors of their local Arby’s. Jou might put in a good word for him here and he might be able to secure a cashier’s job, like the almost-med-student.

Two hours later found Taichi bored. He didn’t really want to go back home, seeing as Koushiro would probably be the only one there. No matter how long the two had known each other, Koushiro still wasn’t warming up to Taichi. According to Hikari, Taichi shouldn’t take it personally; Koushiro hadn’t had good experiences with males in the past, though even she didn’t know all the details.

Taichi sighed, walking into a park. It was around one in the afternoon, so he might as well have something to eat. He grinned to himself as he walked towards a vendor selling fish cakes; he couldn’t wait to try Yamato’s cooking. The blond’s modesty at his own cooking skills had Taichi’s expectations soaring.

After buying his fishcakes—four of them—he took a seat at one of the benches. He had applied for a park attendant job here. He was hoping to get it and be able to work outdoors and meet different people every day.

Different. Like Yamato.

Taichi chewed thoughtfully. Yamato was certainly an interesting character. He was kind of a mystery, but, at the same time, he was quite easy to read. Taichi had never met anyone like him, yet he felt like he had known Yamato a long time.

A yellowing leaf fell to the ground on Taichi’s left. He looked at it, then up at the tree it had come from. It was already late September. Fall would be upon them soon. How had Yamato planned on surviving the winter in the playground? He probably hadn’t even thought that far. Taichi was forced, again, to consider the possibility of Jou never having seen Yamato. Of Jou never having helped him. Taichi’s heart clenched at the thought.

Instead of dwelling on thoughts of ‘what if,’ Taichi stood and stretched. He threw the wooden sticks from the fishcakes into the bin nearby and shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark trousers. He would just wander around for a while.

Over an hour later, Taichi was back at Yamato’s school. There was still over an hour left until Yamato would be released, but Taichi had gotten tired of walking. He settled onto one of the benches on the school grounds, deciding to nap. The night had not been the most restful. Well, not until they had settled into each other’s embraces. Taichi blushed lightly at the memory.

At three thirty, the bells rang, signalling the end of the school day. They woke Taichi up from his nap. He spent the next ten minutes waking himself up and edging towards the main doors of the school building. He got some interested looks from some of the students, as they’d never seen him before.

At long last, a head of golden hair walked out. Yamato was alone. Grinning, Taichi moved to walk alongside the blond.

“How was school?”

Surprised, Yamato cast a quick glance at the brunet to his right and smiled. “It was good; interesting.”

Taichi’s eyebrows rose and he gave Yamato a speculative look, though the other missed it. With an amused shake of his head, Taichi let the topic drop. “Are you good to head straight for the supermarket or do you want to go home first?”

They paused at the gate, Taichi waiting for Yamato’s response, though he didn’t let it come, elaborating: “They’re in opposite directions from here.”

“Let’s go shopping, then. No point in making the same trip twice.”

Taichi nodded, leading the way. They spent most of the walk in silence, with Taichi observing the pale teen at his side.

“Are you feeling sick again?” Taichi asked as they made it to the store. He grabbed a shopping cart, pushing it through the automatic gates.

“I’m fine.” Came Yamato’s too-quick response.

Taichi snorted, parking the cart by some potatoes. “Unlikely, but there’s not much we can do about it right now.”

Yamato threw a glare Taichi’s way. “I’m fine.” He insisted, inspecting the prices of the vegetables. Since he wasn’t contributing to paying the expenses, he had decided to pick the cheap in-season vegetables.

“I’m still not going to believe you; you don’t look fine.”

“I am.”

Taichi just rolled his eyes, but dropped the subject, not wanting to annoy Yamato until he had decided he wanted to stay at Taichi’s permanently. Only then would the proper teasing start.

“What are you smirking at?” Yamato asked, bagging some potatoes.

“Nothing.” Taichi grinned. “Are we ready to move onto the meats yet?”

Yamato shot him a look that was halfway between annoyed and amused. “No.”

Taichi pouted, but stayed silent as Yamato picked out a few more vegetables, then motioned for Taichi to follow him into the next section. Apparently Taichi was in charge of pushing the shopping cart through the store. He didn’t mind, seeing as he wouldn’t be cooking, so he felt he had no say in what foods they’d buy. He’d trust Yamato’s judgement.

It took them an hour to be done with the shopping.

“Thank you for your patronage.” The overly cheerful cashier said as she handed Taichi the receipt.

“Thanks.” Taichi replied, rushing to help Yamato with the groceries. “Here, I’ll get them.”

“I’ve got these two, grab that one.” Yamato nodded his head to the third plastic bag, moving his bags away from Taichi’s reaching hands. “Taichi, I’ve got them, let go.” Yamato yanked the bags out of Taichi’s loose grip and marched towards the automatic doors.

“I can carry them all, it’s no problem.” Taichi assured, rushing after the blond with the last plastic bag hanging from his hand. His tanned hand reached for one of Yamato’s hands.

“Taichi!” Yamato hissed, noting that they were attracting quite a bit of attention. “I’ve got them.”

“But you’re still sick. And don’t think I didn’t notice!” Taichi added the latter bit before Yamato had time to protest. “You can carry one, but give the other to me. No, no, give me the heavier one.”

With a roll of his eyes, Yamato handed the heavier bag over. “Fine.”

Taichi grinned, though he refrained from gloating. Instead, he moved both plastic bags into one hand and dug into one of them, pulling out a slice of bread. Yamato frowned.

“What?” Taichi asked, before offering the slice of bread to Yamato. “You want?”

“No thanks.”

Taichi shrugged and bit off a corner. “Suit yourself, but I’m hungry.”

“Can’t you wait until we get home?” Yamato’s eyes were on the road ahead, but Taichi saw him roll them. The brunet just ginned.

“Did you eat anything at school?” Taichi questioned after a few more bites.

“Yeah.”

Taichi waited, but then gave an exasperated sigh, poking Yamato with his now bread-free hand. He then moved the other grocery bag to the empty hand. “Hasn’t your mother ever taught you how to hold a conversation and elaborate?”

Yamato threw a nasty glare his way, and Taichi blanched.

“Right, sorry.” Taichi mumbled, eyes falling to the ground. He had forgotten that Yamato apparently didn’t get along with his mother. Now probably wouldn’t be a good time to prod. “Anyway,” Taichi continued, as if he hadn’t just royally shoved his foot into his mouth. “What’d you have for lunch?”

“A sandwich.” Yamato stated, then remembered Taichi’s earlier comment and elaborated: “Chicken.”

Taichi rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “Wow, you’re getting good at this.”

Yamato’s next glare was ruined by the smile that crossed his face. “Shut up.”

“So what courses are you taking? I haven’t been to high school, so I don’t know what they offer. Is it just the usual of math and science and languages?” Taichi asked, changing the subject again.

“My school offers the general path, with all the usual courses, but I decided to take the vocational route that they offer, seeing as I’ll be looking to work after high school and… yeah.”

“Oh, right, so you’re not taking math or anything?”

Yamato shrugged, rubbing at the arm holding the groceries. “Well I am, but it’s different from what the others—the ones on the general route—are doing. It’s a bit different; I mean the math and the courses that I’m taking. It’s not—it’s the best route for me, considering…”

Taichi nodded. “Well, yeah, of course it’s the best route. You’ll probably manage to get the best job out of all of us; the highest-paying one, and you’ll probably have regular working hours, too. The rest of the guys have weird shifts.”

Yamato cast a quick glance at Taichi. “Will anyone be at home when we get there?” It felt a bit weird for him to be calling it ‘home,’ but calling it anything else would have been weirder. And quite possibly rude.

Taichi looked around, then at his hands, both full. “Probably not. I don’t know what time it is now, but Mimi was the last to leave for work and that was at four. Hikari and Koushiro are probably home, though most of the time you can’t tell; they spend most of their time upstairs in their room.”

Yamato hummed in reply, awkward about discussing the two youngest members of their household. He wondered if they’d ever get used to him.

“They share a room?” Yamato asked, trying to distract his negative thoughts.

“Yeah, we all do now that you’re sharing with me.” Taichi grinned, turning the corner to their small street. “Jou and Sora have the master bedroom. Mine was a study, but we got rid of all the bookshelves and stuff.”

Yamato nodded, holding the gate open for Taichi to pass through. He watched as Taichi placed one of his bags down and pulled out a set of keys. Taichi paused, staring at his hand.

“We need to get you a copy of the house key.” Taichi mused. He then shrugged and unlocked the door, grabbing the other bag and leading the way in.

The duo made their way to the kitchen, placing their bags down. Taichi fiddled with the keys in his hands, handing one over to Yamato.

“That’s the key to the back door, but it’ll do for now, until someone goes into the city and gets you a copy of the front door one.”

“Thanks.” Yamato got a warm feeling from the cold key. He was actually wanted here.

Taichi then spent the next few minutes showing Yamato which cupboards each item went into, getting the blond more acquainted with the kitchen.

“You want to get changed?” Taichi asked once they were done putting the groceries away.

“Oh, sure.” Yamato said, looking down at his uniform. When living at the playground, he had worn his uniform until going to sleep. It wasn’t the most comfortable outfit, so, now that he had the chance, he might as well change out of it early.

Taichi grinned, leading the way to their room. “I have some clothes that you can wear. And keep. We really need to get you some new stuff soon, though.”

“There’s really no rush.” Yamato assured, walking into the room behind Taichi. “I’ve survived with what I have thus far, so I’ll survive until I get a job.”

Taichi paused in his digging of the drawers. “I don’t know if you should get a job just yet…” He glanced at Yamato’s about-to-protest face and hastened to add: “I mean, you’re still in school, looking to graduate to a good job, so it might be too much to get one now. Plus, you’ll be doing most of the chores around here, so it’s enough on one plate. I think.”

Yamato contemplated this. Taichi did have good points; it was already September, so he only had about half a year of school left. He’d be graduating next spring and be able to properly focus on getting a job then. It’s not like anyone would want to hire a diploma-less student for half a year anyway… But would he be alright as a freeloader until then? He cringed at the idea; it wasn’t like him to take advantage of others’ kindness.

“You’ll be graduating soon, so it’s not like you’d be jobless for that long. Besides, you’re not guaranteed a part-time job as a student. And you’d probably be quitting it by next spring, so no one would want to hire you for such a short period of time.”

Had Taichi read his mind?

Taichi handed over some clothes. “It really isn’t a problem if you don’t work for half a year.”

With a long sigh, Yamato took the clothes. “I suppose you’re right. And thanks for the clothes.”

“It’s no problem.” Taichi grinned again, before allowing Yamato some privacy. Only, he came back just as Yamato was unbuttoning his shirt.

“Hey.” Yamato stated flatly.

Taichi just gave him a sheepish grin, going over to a paper bag sitting on the desk. “Sorry, but I almost forgot to give this to you.” He held the bag to Yamato. “I was out earlier, handing out CVs, and wanted to get you a welcoming present.”

Speechless, Yamato took the offered bag and pulled out a dark blue bundle of clothing. He unravelled it, revealing an apron.

“Since you’ll be doing most of the cooking, and I don’t think Sora’s red apron would look as good on you.”

Yamato blushed at the thoughtfulness of the present, ducking his head down. “Thanks.”

“Sure.” Taichi replied, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’ll just leave you to get dressed now.”

“Wait.” Taichi did, looking at Yamato questioningly. “Sorry, but can you go ask Hikari and Koushiro if they want a snack, please? I could make one, since we probably won’t have dinner for a few hours yet.”

“Sure.” Taichi repeated and was out the door.

Yamato smiled, continuing to change into the loose-fitting cargo pants and dark grey t-shirt.

Taichi came down the stairs on Yamato’s right, just as the blond left the bedroom.

“They’ll have popcorn.”

Yamato paused. “I’m sorry, what?”

Taichi went ahead, walking towards the kitchen, calling over his shoulder: “Hikari and Koushiro just want some popcorn as a snack.”

Muttering to himself and shaking his head, Yamato followed, throwing his new apron over his head. “Do we even have popcorn?” He asked, walking into the kitchen.

Taichi turned away from one of the cupboards, grinning with a packet of popcorn in hand. “Of course we do. It’s about the only snack those two can be trusted to make by themselves.”

Taichi turned to the microwave—a hand-me-down from their previous neighbour—and shoved the packet in, pressing a few buttons. The microwave hummed to itself, soon accompanied by pops.

Yamato spent a few moments watching Taichi watch the spinning popcorn bag, then moved to the laundry room, to the left of the kitchen. He opened the closet in the corner, pulling out a few cleaning supplies. He’d noted the living room could do with dusting.

“What are you doing?” Taichi asked, poking his head into the room.

Yamato showed him the duster and some cloths. “I was thinking of cleaning a bit before starting on dinner.”

Taichi made a face before pulling out and into the kitchen. “Jou will be mad at me if I don’t tell you to rest.”

“I’ll let him know you said that.” Yamato replied, walking past the kitchen and into the living room.

Taichi rolled his eyes as he emptied the popcorn into two bowls. He grabbed both and made his way to the living room, setting one of the bowls onto the low coffee table they had.

“At least eat something. Did you eat at school?”

Yamato paused his dusting, throwing Taichi a concerned look. “Is there something wrong with your memory? We already had this discussion.”

Taichi blinked, other bowl in hand. “We d—Oh! We did! I remember.” He laughed to himself, making his way to the stairs and to his sister’s room.

Yamato grabbed a handful of popcorn, munching on it with one hand, whilst the other continued to dust. There weren’t a lot of items in the living room, but the walls and shelves were quite dirty. Not that Yamato was surprised; he saw how hectic things were in this household. Many people under one roof always equalled a mess. Cleaning had been easy when it was just him and his—

Maybe he should vacuum a bit, too, seeing as everyone would be eating on the floor. It wouldn’t do for them to get themselves dirty.

“Alright?” Taichi entered the living room again. He flopped down on the floor, grabbing some popcorn and eyeing Yamato. “Too much dust?” He asked, referring to Yamato’s watery eyes.

“It’s not that bad.” Yamato mumbled, wiping down an empty shelf on the wall. “With you living here, I’m surprised it’s not worse.”

“Hey!”

Yamato just smirked, glad for the distraction. He lifted the duster over his head, standing on his toes, reaching for the corner of the ceiling. He flicked at the cobwebs for a bit, then a bit more. He finally managed to get the silk stuck to the microfibers. Yamato smiled in triumph, letting his arm and heels drop. The sudden movement made his vision black around the edges and he swayed, hand moving to steady himself against the wall.

Taichi was at Yamato’s side in an instant, both hands on the blond’s shoulders.

“You okay?”

Yamato took a steadying breath and gave Taichi a smile. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Taichi let out a breath and let his hands drop. Then he gave Yamato a flat look. “I thought I told you to rest.”

Yamato chuckled, moving towards the next corner. “I thought that was Jou?”

“Well Jou’s not here.” Taichi replied, yanking the duster from Yamato’s hands. He received an indignant ‘oi!’ in protest, but ignored it. “You’re done cleaning for now. Don’t you have something less straining to do?”

Yamato glared at Taichi for a few minutes before realising that the brunet would not relent. With a heavy sigh, Yamato moved towards their bedroom. “Might as well do my homework, then.”

Taichi smiled, taking the duster back to the laundry room.

Yamato spent the next hour on the living room floor, working on his homework and trying to avoid the popcorn Taichi was throwing at him.

“Right.” Yamato stood, dusting the popcorn off his clothes, then frowning at the mess on the floor. He looked at Taichi with the same frown. “You do realise that I’ll have to clean this up, don’t you?”

Taichi waved him off, standing as well. “Tomorrow or something; it can wait and you’re in no shape to be doing anything strenuous.”

Yamato rolled his eyes, but didn’t bother saying anything. He walked into the kitchen, intent on starting dinner. Jou and Sora would be arriving within the hour, so he wanted dinner ready for them. He would have to clean most of the popcorn, too, before they got home.

Taichi spent a few minutes watching Yamato measure the rice into the cooker and prepare the pork they’d bought. It was quite boring, so he sighed and walked into the laundry room. He pulled out a broom and dustpan, frowning at them.

“Where are you going?” Yamato asked from his position at the hob, as Taichi made his way past the kitchen.

“Cleaning up the popcorn, since I know you’d do it anyway, even though I told you not to. And Jou told you not to.” Taichi sounded like he was dreading the menial task, amusing Yamato to no end.

“Thanks.”

Taichi busied himself with sweeping the popcorn for a few minutes, before depositing them into the bin. He put the supplies away and made his way up the stairs. He came up to a hallway with two doors on the left side, one straight down the hall, and one to the right at the far end. He knocked on the first door to his left.

“Yes?” Hikari called. Taichi walked in. “Oh, Taichi. Is dinner ready?”

The room contained less furniture than Taichi’s: just two single beds on opposite walls and a wardrobe. Hikari and Koushiro were sitting on the floor in the space between the beds.

“Not yet, but could you two come down and socialise a bit? Yamato thinks you don’t like him…”

Hikari and Koushiro exchanged saddened looks.

“We don’t mean for him to feel like that.” Hikari stated, still looking at Koushiro. “But you know how we tend to be.”

“I know, but Yamato’s new and he’ll be staying with us, so you two should get to know him a bit. He’s friendly.” Taichi added the last comment for Koushiro’s benefit, as the teen was still wary around people. Koushiro had revealed that his first foster family had not taken Koushiro’s condition well. Punishments were mentioned.

“Okay.” Hikari acquiesced, bringing Taichi out of his musings. “We’ll be down in a bit.”

Taichi smiled his thanks before leaving the room. Upon reaching the main floor, he realised he heard voices coming from the kitchen; Jou must be home. Sure enough, as he entered the kitchen, he was greeted by the dark-haired male. Yamato was busy chopping carrots, whilst a pot gently brewed to his left.

Out of curiosity, Taichi peeked into the pot: onion, what smelled like garlic and ginger, and the pork. Yamato stepped up and added the carrots under Taichi’s nose.

“Curry?” Taichi asked as the blond poured in some water.

“Yep.” Yamato answered, distracted, as he turned up the heat. He then started chopping the peeled potatoes.

“Yamato?” Jou questioned, walking back into the kitchen. Taichi hadn’t even realised he had left. “Did you check your temperature after school?”

“No.” Again a distracted answer.

“He insisted he was fine.” Taichi elaborated, knowing how bad the blond was at it. “But then he almost passed out when trying to clean. I got him to do his homework instead, though.” Taichi hastened to add the last part, as Jou wasn’t looking very happy.

“You really should have stayed at home.” Jou said with a sigh.

“I was fine in school.” Yamato threw a glare at Taichi. “And whilst cleaning.”

Taichi put his hands up in front of himself, watching as Yamato returned to preparing the roux. “Just calling it as I saw it.”

“Now, now.” Jou placated. “The point is really for you to take it easy, Yamato. Sure, you might be better, but you still need to be careful.”

Yamato gave Jou a quick smile, then checked on the boiling pot. Satisfied, he turned around, leaning on the counter. “I promise I’ll take it easy; all I really do in school is sit around, anyway.”

“Still,” Jou said, giving Yamato a pat on the shoulder. “Take it easy at home too. There’s no need to feel like you need to earn your place here.”

Yamato’s face reddened, but he was spared having to answer by Hikari and Koushiro walking in.

“Hey.” Hikari said cheerfully, unaware of the atmosphere in the room.

The three males greeted the two in return.

“Dinner smells great!” The young girl walked further into the kitchen, eyeing the covered pot. “What are we having?”

Yamato cleared his throat lightly before answering: “Pork curry. Hope that’s okay with you.”

Hikari grinned. “Sounds great! In fact,” she turned to Koushiro, who was still standing by the door. “It’s Koushiro’s favourite.”

Yamato’s eyes met Koushiro’s and the former smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. I hope it lives up to your expectations.”

Koushiro gave a small smile in return, but didn’t say anything.

The corners of Yamato’s mouth were still turned slightly upwards as he checked on the potatoes, making sure they were tender enough. He turned off the heat and added the roux and a dash of soy sauce, mixing the sauce thoroughly.

“I’m home.” Sora called from the entrance.

“Perfect timing;” Taichi called back. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Has everyone washed up?” Sora asked, poking her head into the kitchen. She took Koushiro’s hand, leading him towards the bathroom. Hikari and Jou followed, whilst Taichi shoved his hands under the kitchen tap.

“She’s such as mum, you’ll soon realise.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Yamato removed his apron, joining Taichi at the kitchen sink.

“Oh, I wasn’t complaining.” Taichi flicked some water at Yamato’s face. “Though sometimes it’s annoying.”

Yamato finished washing his hands and returned the flick of water. Taichi made a noise of protest and went for the tap again, but was interrupted by a stern:

“Boys.”

Said boys turned to face Sora, apologetic looks on their faces. She had her hands on her hips with a giggling Hikari behind her. Jou was shaking his head in amusement, whilst Koushiro seemed clueless.

“See?” Taichi whispered as he pulled out plates. Yamato just chuckled, spooning out curry and rice for everyone.

They settled around the freshly cleaned coffee table, making light chatter about their days. Jou had had a few dissatisfied customers who had made wrong orders, then complained that Jou had gotten the orders wrong. Of course, the customer was always right, so Jou had apologised and fixed the meals.

Sora was working at a restaurant-bar, where she mainly mixed drinks, but today they’d been understaffed, so she had had to waitress as well.

After dinner, Hikari and Koushiro volunteered to do the dishes, allowing the elders to get some much needed downtime. Or at least, that’s what Taichi had been hoping for.

“We should really change those sheets now.” Yamato noted upon entering their shared room.

Taichi groaned.

[whichwaytowonderlandep]

Prom...? (Taehyung/Reader)

Pairings: (Taehyung/Reader)

Prompt: Hey would anyone like to write a prom fic with Taehyung. I just had mine lol, I wore an A-line red dress that was off the shoulder. I even fell over from tripping on it lmao. I just thought a cute prom story would be fun. 

Genre: Prom AU!

Words: 1,900

Tags: Fluff

The days felt longer and longer as the exams were nearing, along with the end of the semester. Which couldn’t have been here any sooner.

You felt tired as you got to your locker seeing your friend, Emma, giggling to herself with her head hidden in her locker. Now, normally you would’ve asked, but this was your best friend you were talking about, her weird behavior was always actually a normal thing.

“Hey, Emma?” You ask, taking a glance at her before putting the combination to your locker lock, “Can I borrow your notes for history class? I kind of snoozed off for…um?” In front you, covering every inch of your locker were red roses and on the door was a note that read,

Roses are red, violets are blue, I’d be lucky as hell to go to prom with you. -Taehyung

You couldn’t help the ear to ear smile that had suddenly appeared on your face. But upon hearing someone clearing their throat behind you, you quickly turn around to find five poster boards, held up by your friends, sporting the word ‘PROM?’ in big black bold letters.

Taehyung was standing next to the question mark with bouquet of white roses with the widest smile you’ve ever seen on him.

“So how about it?” He asked, “wanna make me the happiest guy at prom?”

You were so stunned by the whole gesture that you replied by nodding, words felt like they were stuck in your throat.

His smile widened as he walked towards you, giving you a hug, along with the roses.

That night, as you lay on your bed, you couldn’t help fighting against the smile any longer. You broke down in a fit of squeals and giggles, asking yourself, “Did that actually happen?” Blushing and giddy as hell, sleep finally caught up with you.

As the weeks passed by, you and Taehyung kept in touch. During exams you both started sending each other texts of encouragement and late night texts asking if you were still awake, because he had the sudden urge to hear your voice at two in the morning.

You never really had the chance to talk without all of you mutual friends around. It was mostly conversations about school or things related to that, but you both knew enough basic things about each other - this is how you could just speak normally to him. Without the fear of running out of things to say.

After those weeks, the night you both waited for what felt like an eternity, was finally here.

It was exciting, it was the last one of night with your classmates and with most of your friends. A lot of them were leaving for college right after graduation.

“Are you ready yet?” You asked Emma as she walks into your room, wearing a really sparkly dress. “Yeah, I just need a couple of minutes to do my make-up” You nodded as you looked at yourself in the mirror, the light blue dress you were wearing felt comfortable and it exposed your shoulders and collarbone nicely. You felt confident and beautiful and ready to roll out the red carpet and stroll down it with your date.

You reach for the box that have been holding your shoes for the past week, it felt strangely light. When you opened the box, there was only one shoe there. Turning back to your friend with a look of confusion on your face, she asks, “What?”

“Have you seen my other shoe?” you ask her as you start to look around your room, just in case you had misplaced it or something. But to no avail, the room was sparkly heel free. “I could’ve sworn it never left this box when I first bought them”

“Maybe you’re just not looking hard enough” Emma replied, as she continued applying the last of her make-up.

“Yeah. maybe” you mumble as you continue looking around your room, thinking about how you would be late if you didn’t find it sooner.

At that moment the bell rang. “You gonna get that?” Emma asks turning around, while leaning against the bed as she watch you struggle over a damn shoe.

“I’m sure mom will get that” you reply, but as the doorbell continued ringing for a while, you gave up on the shoe, grabbing the one that was left in the box and hurried down the stairs, tripping halfway, making you wrap your arms around the railing. Maybe your dress was a little too long. Your parents nowhere in sight. Slightly annoyed, you sigh as you head towards to front of the house, to make the incessant ringing stop.

When you opened the door, you had to admit you were kind of startled when you heard Taehyung’s loud voice. “My beautiful Cinderella!” Taehyung said as you walked out the door. He help up a sparkly heel as he walked towards you, “You can’t really go to prom without your other glass slipper now can’t you?”

You couldn’t help but let out a giggle as he kneels down, placing the heel in front of you. Every gesture that he’s made did make you feel like a princess from a fairy tale, as you placed your foot in your missing shoe, the only thing that went through your mind was how lucky you were to have Taehyung as your prom date. You bite your lip, trying to hide your smile as he looked up at you from his kneeling position. With his square-like smile, he stood up holding out his arm for you to take. You felt all tingly as if all of the butterflies in your stomach had dispersed towards the rest of your body.

You loved every corny thing about Taehyung and the way he acted. Everything he did made you feel like you were in a fairy tale; Taehyung playing your Prince Charming , and you would gladly play his princess.

“Now, I know I’ve given you enough flowers to last a lifetime” He said as he grabs both of you hands in his large ones, “But, I think this flower, would be even more beautiful if it was on you” He said as he took a corsage out of his pocket and wrapped the ribbon gently around your wrist.

The prom was meant to be hosted at a ball room hall that the students pitched in to rent for the night. You all thought it was better than to have it in a smelly and cramped gym - mostly because it really was smelly.

As the limo you and your friends had rented stopped at the entrance of the garden, Taehyung quickly jumped out, turning back around holding out his hand, “My lady!” he said in a posh accent, making you giggle for the time that night.

The hall was as bright as the night sky, you weren’t sure of the theme that was picked. You didn’t really pay attention to it. But you guessed it had to do with dancing in the night sky.

You were greeted with a photographer at the door, helping everyone make memories tonight. You look towards Taehyung, gesturing over to the photographer, “Want to go get one?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I do!” He says, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the background drop that was set up. “Now I have something to remember this night forever.”

Taehyung stood behind you, wrapping his long arms around your waist and pulling you close to his hard chest.

“Smile!” said the photographer as he took a couple of pictures.

As the night continued progressing, you couldn’t stop laughing at Taehyung and his corny dancing when Nelly’s Just A Dream started playing. Soon after there we were, the both of us just jumping around with our arms in the air and dancing like nobody was watching. Which you’re pretty sure they are seeing as we probably looked like idiots. But happy idiots at that.

Taking turns between the dance floor and the table filled with the food. Somewhere in the middle, your shoes were forgotten at the table.

You two slow danced to the somewhat soft melody of James Arthur’s Say You Won’t Let Go. With you resting your head on Taehyung’s chest, his chin resting gently on your head. You felt the vibrations on his chest as he sang along with the chorus, this was by far the happiest night you’ve had in a long while.

Looking up at him, you smile, before asking him “Why did you ask me to be your prom date?”

You saw his cheeks getting redder as you stared into his eyes waiting for an answer to your very important question. He could’ve gone with anybody, but he asked you. The girl he would always just have friendly conversations with. It’s true that you had developed a crush on him during these last two semesters. So you just had to ask him… What made him choose to go to prom with you?

“Well..” Taehyung said, as he looked anywhere but at you. You could tell he was nervous when he took a deep breath, before finally setting his sights on your face - looking at you straight in they eye and said, “I kind of had a crush on you, when we first met on the first week of school” letting out a shaky breath, he continues, “I figured that it was now or never. That I needed to tell you and when I heard you didn’t have a prom date yet,

“Well, let’s just say that I’m definitely the happiest guy at prom.”

His words only made you blush harder than ever in your life. You certainly were not expecting those words to come out of his mouth. You were expecting something else, but for him to tell you he had a crush on you was not definitely on the list of possibilities you had made in your mind earlier.

You lean in and kiss his cheek. It happen so fast, that before Taehyung knew what was happening it was already over. But that smile on your face told him that you did do that and that it wasn’t a part of his hopeful imagination.

He didn’t know why but he definitely wanted you to do that again. He couldn’t straight out ask you so he did the only thing that seemed rational to him at the moment. He leans forward, placing both of his hands on your cheeks and kissed you as passionately as he could muster.

When he pulled away, you looked flushed. It was kind of shocking to you. But you definitely didn’t want it to be over.

So taking the spontaneous mood in your hands you grabbed his tie and pulled him down to your level and placed your lips on his. You knew he didn’t really mind, when you felt him smile into the kiss.

Tonight felt like a dream come true…

@kpopwriteitforward  

[stupidpianist]

2 november 2018

05:30: Oh Christ almighty I’m awake but I want to be able to fall back sleep for a bit, I don’t have to leave for another hour, but now that I’m conscious, and I’m conscious of needing to take this GRE, my adrenaline is going haywire, and I’m sort of just flopping around in bed like a beached dolphin. Went to bed way too late to be responsible, and I’m totally not hungover or anything, so not hungover, there’s no sarcasm here, you must look: elsewhere, for the SARCASM. Okay okay do I get up?

06:02: Still in bed. Trying to “allocate system resources” so that I can leave bed. Feeling extreme sense of dread regarding my personal future, trying to remind myself, “it’s just the cortisol, it’ll even out, don’t worry, it’s just the cortisol.” Repeating that in my head. It’s working, a little, maybe? This has been happening most mornings for weeks now, just a really “pervasive sense of dread,” just worrying both over things I have no control over, and over things that I have control over but just haven’t done. Shouldn’t be dwelling on this, should just be focused on making incremental, concrete changes in how I’m living life, not. Not just, like, feeling sorry and afraid over myself.

06:10: Feeling slow resurgence of self confidence. Or, no, that’s not the right word, that’s the wrong terminology, it’s not like, I mean, I’m pretty self confident, never had “self confidence issues,” more like, just “overly anxious over things I shouldn’t be overly anxious over.” Debating, in my head, whether or not I should take public transit to the test centre… It’s all the way west on the island, and it’ll take like an hour and a half via subway and bus… I mean, no, here’s what I’ll do, I’ll splurge, I’ll take an Uber there, because the last thing I want right now is to just enter a terrible headspace by immediately heading to a subway station while it’s raining outside (DID I FORGET TO TELL YOU? yeah it’s REALLY RAINING outside, like HEAVILY) and then sitting on a train all wet and then switching to a bus and then riding a bus through the black of Montreal winter mornings and then sitting in a windowless room staring at a screen for four hours taking an exam.

Yeah, okay, deciding, definitively, to take Uber there. Will be relaxing, one of my favourite activities, barring when I’m feel nauseous, is just sitting in the backseat of a car, not shotgun, and listening to music and staring out the window. It’s really relaxing and puts me in a nice and contemplative mood. Same goes for subways, just, not, like, when it’s six in the morning, on little sleep, you know?

06:14: Brushed teeth, put on bunny sweater for “comfort and protection,” put on corduroy pants, put on boots, put on “puffy white jacket.” Going to walk across the street to the grocery to buy something caffeinated, and “test day snacks,” probably some granola bars, or something. Sensing myself growing increasingly determined, in a way I always get when I’m about to do something I know I’m not exactly ready for, feels like a dramatic scene in a movie right before the big climax before denouement. Putting on a “Let’s Get Down to Business” vibe.

06:20: Got Monster “lo-carb” energy drink, box of granola bars. Calling Uber with phone now, standing under the roof thing of my apartment building. It’s so black out it could be any time between 18h and 19h, I forgot just how little sunlight there is during the winter. Always thought I had, like, reverse seasonal affective disorder. Have I talked about this before on here? Well, if I have, get ready to hear about it again, you maniacs. Like, usually, during the summer, I’m feeling pretty down all the time, and during the winter my mood improves dramatically, but this could be circumstantial? Usually during the summer I’m away from people I want to be around, and feeling like I’m wasting a lot of time? Maybe that’s it, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the seasons? In any case, feel like the sun doesn’t really have much an effect on my emotional state, even though I do like using those therapy lights. Those are cool. Very fun. Heheh.

06:23: Chugged can of Monster and ate one bar. Somehow already got an Uber within three minutes of requesting a ride, seems egregious at this hour and at my location? Sitting in backseat. Quite comfy, it’s a Volkswagen of some sort, I forget the model, pretty sure it’s a Golf just from how it looks. Driver has the radio tuned to 96.9, French language “contemporary hits” radio station, is not engaging in conversation, thank god. I’m putting on album Lifa by band Heilung, one of my favourite albums ever, this Nordic experimental folk band, and, like, closing my eyes, and am doing, like, “meditation-related” things, like breathing in slowly and breathing out even slower. Feeling extremely comfy, really comfy, and sort of wishing this ride last longer than the estimated forty-five minutes, it’s really peaceful, just staring out of the window at everything passing, city lights, other cars, etc. etc., and the rain that’s dampening everything. Reminds me of Burial’s music, as always.

06:50: Nearing the test centre. I’m there early, only need to be there by 7h30, but I guess the earlier the safer?? Finding myself appreciating this car ride, feeling like I’m “sinking into the seat” and just “taking the world in,” appreciating all that I have in my life right now and the people in my life. Caffeine from Monster seems to have done minimal, really not feeling much of a “kick,” but I guess that makes sense? Hard to counteract that little sleep, combined with hangover. Thinking over the minimal preparations I’ve done for this exam, and, like, not kicking myself, because “what’s done is done,” but still feeling confident? Always have had a “knack” for standardized testing, it’s sort of fun, like, feels like a game, maneuvering around answers you can tell the test makers put in to “trip you up”?? Or, when you get “in the zone” and you get hyper focused on the questions, and you start “tearing them up,” just “ripping through them.” Getting to that point is fun, yeah, yeah.

07:06: Arrived. Test centre is in an office building in part of a strip mall, in an area that seems like it’s all a bunch of strip malls interconnected by roads and parking lots in a complex-esque thing. I’m doing a terrible job of describing it, and I didn’t take a photo, but I’m sure you know what I mean, just an area of a bunch of retail shops and fast food eateries and chain restaurants?? Feeling memories of taking SAT and ACT exams, noticing differences between going to a “testing centre” and going to a high school, like for the SAT/ACT.

07:15: Waiting on the floor of the testing centre. There’s one other guy here too, briefly spoke to him casually while taking a granola bar “to the face.” He seems really nervous, is sighing a lot and just generally looks uncomfortable. Feeling pretty excited and unanxious myself, reading from Disaster Artist while waiting for test centre to open. This office building is particularly depressing, like, almost cliche in its “office-ness”... I guess most office buildings are like this, it’s hard to inspire creativity or foster it when you have to build up office buildings everywhere, seems like they’d all have to, for practicality’s sake, follow more or less the exact same layout. Jesus now this is depressing me even more. Going to stop thinking about this.

07:30: Inside test room. I guess because it’s a computer exam, there is no set start time for everyone to begin simultaneously?? Wow I’m an idiot, that’s what I assumed by the registration saying the test would start at 08:30. No, the receptionist is like, “as soon as you fill out these forms you can get started.” Okay, okay, signing my name and putting my bag in a locker. Feels almost like I’m about to go through airport security, on the form it’s like “you have to empty all your pockets and lift your pants above your ankles and we’re gonna scan you for metal with a wand and you have to take off your glasses so we can inspect there’s no recording devices on them.” Sure sure sure, yeah, whatever you like is fine, I’m about to crush this test, let’s get this over with, yada yada yada

11:44: Jesus Christ it’s over, it’s all over, we did it, people, we did it!! WE DID IT!!! IT’S OVER!!!! Hey you want to hear the good news first, or the BETTER NEWS FIRST???? Here’s what I’m going to do, first I’m going to hit you with the GOOD news: your boy here scored well!! NO I’m not gonna share it publicly you silly goose but let me tell ya to your FACE--NICE. It was NICE. I’m proud of what I got, especially given the circumstances. You know the BETTER news??? BOUT TO RIDE THE BUS AND METRO HOME AND NAP THE HECK OUT OF A FEW HOURS. Gotta make up some of this SLEEP DEBT, gotta sleep really HARD.

It stopped raining too, I’m bout to hop on this shuttle bus, I’ll see you later. Jk, that’s a quotation from a standup bit by Hannibal Buress. Lookie here, guys, it’s a forty minute bus ride, and another forty minute metro ride, and then a ten minute walk, and then I strip my disgusting clothes off and I slam my head into the pillow and I close my eyes real good. Close em real nice, real nice closing of the eyes.

Really grateful I somehow did well, if I did poorly it would’ve been such a shot to both my overall mental state right now, and my confidence in my own abilities as like a thinking, reasoning being. I know the idiocy of standardized testing, but it feels good knowing that, despite unideal circumstances, I was still able to perform well on mathematical and verbal reasoning tasks.

Going to switch from Heilung to something more upbeat, maybe some Ghost, maybe some Clarence Clarity, for this ride back. Glad I can also “celebrate” via hanging out w/ A, if I did poorly on this exam I also would feel guilty or just generally be in a less-than-gregarious mood, glad that I’ll be able to “enjoy this fully.”

Feel like doing something crazy with the keyboard, here goes nothing, eal;kjfiweoiriskljfdkldfkdfdklfvc. jkdfgjklfgdkjlgkjgkjgkjgfkjgfkweiroqiqwwpeowqen qqmmciieieiieroeioqwqpoqoiwqpoiwqpwe

hahahahah

13:21: Back in “home sweet home,” thinking, “home, home sweet home, sweetie pie home.” It smells better than I remember?? Who did this, who came in here and sprayed stuff, what have you done? I do not, I don’t deserve this, these “good scents,” in my place of rest…

Going to take pants off and crawl right the heck under my sheets, maybe watch a YouTube video or two to “unwind” and then drift off to sandman village. Setting alarm for 16h30, that should give me enough time to still be productive before hangout?? Have been, throughout my life, a chronically bad napper, but this time feels different. Got all the checkmarks, did well on the exam, barely got any sleep, still hungover, caffeine wearing off even if I didn’t feel it in the first place. Seems like everything “in place” for a real good “sleep session.”

16:14: “Ouuauughhgh” is what it sounds like my head is going right now, or, like, “oouuauuUUUGAUAAUUUGHHHHH,” yeah, YEAH, that’s more like it. Man I slept SO GOOD, can’t remember ANY of my dreams, even though usually when I nap I have really, really vivid nightmares that I’m able to remember for a LONG TIME afterwards. Mouth has a funny taste in it, the way it often does after napping. Why does this only happen after napping, and not after sleeping a longer period of time?? Does keeping your mouth open longer do something to the quality of your breath?? I’m confused, but at least it’s not as bad as, like, when you drink milk right before napping, that’s, that’s the worst. Always hate having morning breath, I don’t mind when other people have it, but if I have it I can’t focus on anything until I brush it out, then I can, like, do something like return to sleep more, but once I’m up, if I realize that I have bad morning breath that day, nOPE, gotta take care of that crap.

Going to head to the practice rooms now and see how much I can get done before 20h. Unsure if I’m going to be updating past this point, seems “dubious.”

Renewed sense of self worth after taking that exam, I think. I know it’s so arbitrary, and probably dangerous to feel such a renewed sense of self after something as ridiculous as a standardized test, but, like, I don’t know… Felt such severe self doubt of late that it’s good to at least be reaffirmed that I can, like, answer objective questions correctly. That’s a start, right? Maybe it will carry over to the practice rooms??

[yoonia]

Use Me (M)

Character / Genre / Word count: Namjoon x reader | College!au, FWB!au, Soft smut, angst. Just the usual combination. | 2,602 words

Drabble game request: Namjoon + “We should probably talk.” + College AU

You are completely lost. Your mind completely blocks your senses away from the sound of the bed creaking beneath you and how it knocks against the wall behind you relentlessly, and from how the air is filled with the scent of sex, sweat and booze. Even the sound of your own moans is muffled in your senses as you try to block away the sounds of grunts he is making as he thrusts in and out of you.

You have yet a clue which to thank to for the numbing senses, when you no longer know which part is stronger―the alcohol running through your system, or the pain in your heart that has been clouding your entire sanity for the last few weeks.

“Fuck―” a curse slipped through you, raising your hand to tangle between the strands of his hair as he leans down to take your erect nipple between his plump lips, flickering his tongue over the sensitive skin before sucking you hard―and he is doing everything without even missing a beat of the pace in which his hips have been moving on you.

“Don’t hold your voice back, babe,” he growled at you the moment he pulls away from your breast. “Call my name,” he said to you, the plea came out as a soft whine - something that you would never expect to hear from him. “Say my name and let everybody know who is making you feel good.”

You open your eyes to meet his face that is now hovering above yours, his eyes staring deep into you, reminding you who it is that has the complete control over your body.

You know you will regret everything in the morning, when your mind has sobered up and is more than able to remind you of the reality of your life. But all you need tonight is to numb yourself from every pain and every memory of the one man that only pains you. So you let yourself go. You let yourself get lost in the bliss that is about to come thanks to the restless pounding the man hovering above is giving you, finally calling for his name between your pleasured moans to hush the voice inside your head that is screaming out for another.

“Namjoon,” you moaned his name, while digging your nails into his skin when his thrusts grow faster and harder each time he hears your voice calling for him. Completely oblivious to how much you are fighting against yourself to keep you from calling out for the man whose face is still haunting inside your mind.

Everything is in complete silence when you open your eyes only a few hours later. You stretch out your sore limbs and feel the thin blanket covering your body before finding him still sleeping soundly next to you. You trail the outline of his face as you lay there, studying the line of his nose, his sharp jawlines and the lips that wouldn’t leave your skin hours ago.

This may not be the first night you’ve had ever hook up with Kim Namjoon, but this is certainly the first time you end up in his bed.

The first time happened weeks ago. It was by the end of the week, days after you ended your previous relationship. It was at a small party held at the frat house and you were left behind by your dorm mates only to find your ex laughing and joyfully drinking together with his friends. Namjoon was the first boy in that room you gave permission to take your hand to dance with. Both of you were already intoxicated by alcohol by the time he started moving his hands lower, gripping harder on your skin before ending the night by pounding inside your slick walls in one of the unoccupied bathrooms.

The second time happened almost two weeks after. Except that day, you were both completely sober, only having your mind filled with the stressful term finals and piles of assignments, and your mind being clouded by the massive amount of textbooks you had to read and remember before your exam. You were sitting in the library between piles of dusty books when your ex passed you by, triggering all the pain and anger within you to resurface and boil up. And when the sight of Namjoon appeared from behind one of the shelves, you couldn’t help yourself but to chase him away, and he let you drag him into one of the secluded aisles in the library where he then reminded you on how good he could make you feel.

There were ghosts of hallways that still whispers about how they heard the faint sound of moans and grunts between the shelves of dusty books, but you only ignore them. Not when the pleasure he gave you was able to numb your pain away.

It has been always the same pattern whenever you hook up with him after. Whenever the sight of your ex triggers your pain to subdue your sanity, your mind would soon lose its will for making a clear judgement. And when Namjoon always magically appears at the same time, you would jump right at him and have him cover away the wounds that your ex had left behind with the pleasure of his touches.

There has been a deep sexual tension between the both of you for so long, and it’s always so easy to give in to them each time your pain comes back haunting you, regardless of the time and the place. And the pattern has never changed. It will always be a quick heated sex, done at the first empty and hidden places you could find, and you would always slip away before you gain back control of your senses, before the ringing sound of your bliss comes down to let you think more clearly. And it always ends by words which is nothing more than―“That was amazing,” or “Thank you”, or perhaps the empty promises of―“I’ll call you.”

It has been always the same pattern. Until tonight.

Tonight you were far from campus, having the night of your own, drinking your stress away at one small pub in the middle of the town. Hoping to have one night where you are safe from seeing the familiar faces that might remind you of your past painful love and of your miserable life. There was no sight of your ex appearing before you, yet the memory of his laughs, his smile, and his touches came rushing into your mind after you had taken your fourth glass of gin and tonic. There was no sight of Namjoon magically appearing when you were drowning in memories. Yet you immediately turned around and started to run towards the student flat where he resides in, where you later gave a few loud bangs over his door in the middle of the night, stopped him from questioning your intentions with a kiss full of hunger and let him pull you into his bed.

The shifts he makes on the bed pulls you back to present, to once again trail your glances at the lines of his face and his body next to you. You nibble at your lips, taking a deep breath before lifting the blanket covering your bare body carefully. You try your best to move as slow as possible, trying your best not to interrupt his slumber as you slip away through the silent night.

You release a sigh without looking away from the textbook in front of you. You had thought that avoiding the library and by studying in the small coffee shop near campus will help clear your mind so you can focus on something. But the muffled sound of chatterings around you, the strong scent of coffee and pastries, all of the little things that used to calm you are failing on helping you to calm your nerves. The words in front of you become a blur when your mind keeps flying back into the night when you slip away from Namjoon’s warm hold, the last night when you saw him before you start doing everything you can to avoid him.

The sound of a white mug landing on your table with a soft tap, followed by someone clearing his throat catches your attention. You look up to see Namjoon slipping into the booth where you are sitting, joining you as he sits across the table calmly.

“Na―Namjoon?”

“Hi,” he said, smiling towards you and allowing you to see that little dimple just a little over his cheek, as soon as he is settled on his seat. “How are you? Is it okay if I join you?”

“I― uh, actually―” You stop yourself when it seems like there is no possible way you can get away or find the perfect excuse to refuse, now that you have failed to avoid him, only to have him sitting there with you instead. “I don’t mind,” you force yourself to smile. “What brings you here, Namjoon? I would never have thought you’d be coming so far to here only to find coffee.”

He flickers his eyes to glance at you while he takes a slow sip of his coffee, earning the heartbeat in your chest to jump one thump faster. He puts the mug down with a smile over his face, scoffing and licking his lips when he answers, “No, I just― I couldn’t find you in campus lately, and I heard some little birds saying that you might be here on breaks.”

“Uh, me? You were looking for me?” You scoffed, not truly believing him. “Why?”

But he nods his head. He leans forward, placing his arms crossed over each other on the table. “I just― I, uh― I figured that we should, uh― we should probably talk.”

You take a deep breath, the images of your last hook up flickers in your mind. “Is it about the other night? I’m so sorry, I didn’t really mean to just leave after waking you up that late, but―”

“Oh, no― I mean, I understand,” he stops you with a smile and an extended hand―which he pulls back instantly, not wanting to invade your private space. “Things might have gotten awkward if we, uh- if you had stayed and anyone in the flat woke up to find me making you breakfast, to be honest,” he chuckles, the soft look in his eyes calms you a little more, earning you to exhale a sigh of relieve.

“It’s just that, uhm―” he smacks his lips, sighing, before he continues to speak. “I just have been thinking about how we always― have, this um― thing.”

“Is it making you uncomfortable?” You look away when he lifts his face after he heard the question coming from you. “I really like― uhm, those times with you. But if you want to stop, then I’ll―”

“I don’t want to.” He suddenly cuts you off. You lift your eyes to look at him and see how his eyes are now staring at you, all determined, while you are lost and confused. You had thought that one day either of you will have to put a stop on everything, knowing how wrong the both of you are.

“But, why? Namjoon, I have been avoiding crowds on campus and parties because I feel so guilty about―” You let out a sigh. The guilt that filled your heart that night is filling your brain―no, this guilt has been there for so long, yet you have been ignoring them for the sake of your own selfish needs. “I’m sorry. I feel like I’ve been using you, and I know that I’m wrong to do it. When I woke up being in your bed that night I just realized my mistakes and I was so afraid that you would have the wrong thoughts about everything, and expect me to offer you something that I might never be able to give you.”

“Y/N, I know what I am to you,” he chuckles. “I completely understand my place and position, and never in my mind I would want anything more knowing you wouldn’t.”

You blink your eyes as you stare at him in disbelief, earning him to chuckle once more.

“The truth is, I have liked you since freshmen year. But I know I’m not Yoongi, and I can never replace him, or even match how much he affects you. I know that you’ve been using me only for release, and frankly, I don’t care. To be honest, as much as you feel guilty about it, I’m also guilty for taking advantage of your situation just so I can get a chance to be with you.” He smiles at you, before pursing his lips into a thin line with embarrassment after letting you know how he feels about everything.

“Okay― uh, so what should we do about it now?”

He shrugs. “Should we do anything? I mean- I’m only saying that we don’t have to be anything. Although I do have something to offer you.” He gives you a smile, which you return by lifting and creasing your eyebrows to question him without words. “You can use me all you want, whenever you need a release. But I know sometimes even the good sex won’t fully clear your mind, unless you speak out whatever that goes in your head. Though perhaps we need to avoid going to quiet and secluded places for that part because I would only want to strip you naked the minute we are out of other people’s sight.”

You let out a scoff, before taking the sight of him once more. Nodding your head once you figure that perhaps you might be able to do this, to be able to have a friendly conversation in exchange of heated sex to relieve your stress. “Fine, let’s try this.”

And so you order another cup of coffee to accompany you as you sit there - your textbook closed shut and phone put away in your bag - conversing with the man whose voice you have gotten used to hearing only through huffs and curses, sharing each other the thoughts that fill up your lonely nights, laughing and joking as if you are old acquaintances meeting up for coffee.

The conversation goes on really well, and you enjoy how much both of you are able to talk about much broader topics than you usually have with your friends. You enjoy his voice as he speaks to you, the words that he chooses to tell you the many things he wants to say, and you enjoy watching his face and his lips as he speaks. And everything feels so warm.

That is, until you cut him off an hour later as he is speaking mid-sentence with― “Do you want to get out of here? Have you finished your coffee?”

Namjoon tilts his head with a smirk. “Yeah, sure. Why? What do you have in mind?”

You lick and nibble on your lips as the words slip through you, “My roommate is out of town. And my dorm is pretty quiet at this hour.”

The smirk on his face widens, showing you that he knows what you have planned inside your head, before he stands on his feet and waits for you at the side of the booth. “Lead the way,” he said. And the both of you make your way out of that place, rushing and racing towards your dorm before the burning lust inside you explodes.

SCENARIOS MASTERLIST

Disclaimer: All works are written by myself. Any copyright infringement, reposting on any other social media or website, and any act of plagiarism will be dealt with legal action

[walterdthornton1944-blog]

8 Things I Learned About Getting Through a Miscarriage

The term “miscarriage” is a misnomer. The tragic loss of an unborn baby, at any stage of pregnancy, really should be called what it is - the death of a child. Recognizing this was perhaps the best way for me to come to terms with what was happening to me, and to move past it.

It's been nearly a month since I miscarried at 15 weeks, 4 days. I named her Kate Eileen and buried her at home, viewable from my kitchen window, just beyond our flower garden.

This was a surprise pregnancy. I had long-ago given away all of our baby items and maternity clothes. I thought my birth control was flawless.

When I found out I was pregnant, I was shocked. I had mistaken early pregnancy symptoms for an uptick in my autoimmune gastric condition - frustrating but not at all unusual. The “uncontrollable bloating” was annoying as it had gotten to the point where people were asking me when my baby was due (before I realized I was pregnant). My periods aren't very regular, so that wasn't a definite sign either.

I was still shocked to see two red lines on my Dollar General pregnancy test. I was even more shocked when, the next week, I felt very clear flutters in my lower abdomen.

It took me about a week to wrap my mind around having a fourth baby, and I quickly fell in love. I was getting excited as I waited for my first OB appointment. For a month, all I could think of was my baby. I relished the little flutters I was feeling. I started wearing maternity clothes as my belly bulged beyond where my jeans could button. Finally, it was the day of the appointment. I couldn't hardly sit still in the waiting room and then the exam room.

But as soon as I walked into the ultrasound room, I had a strange feeling. The excitement went away, which I found puzzling and disconcerting. I had never had that feeling before. The first ultrasounds with my other 3 pregnancies were always the most exciting. This time, looking back, it was like my body knew something that my brain did not.

Related: Late Term Miscarriage: A Unique Loss

The ultrasound showed a healthy baby, but also a large hematoma. My first two pregnancies featured this same affliction, both spotting on and off for months, the first ending with the premature birth of my oldest daughter, now 11, at 29 weeks due to a major placental abruption. My second daughter, now 10, was born by planned cesarean at 38 weeks due to a mild placental abruption. With this fourth pregnancy, at the time of the ultrasound, I wasn't yet spotting but the presence of the hematoma surprised me since my third pregnancy - with my son, now 6 - didn't have this complication.

The ultrasound tech didn't seem concerned, but the OB reminded me that, like with my first two pregnancies, the risk of miscarriage was high with this size of hematoma. I had never had a miscarriage before, and despite me understanding that there was just as high of risk with my first two pregnancies as with this one, I just thought that if I took it easy, I'd get through this one, too.

Related: Pregnancy After a Miscarriage: How to Let Go of the Fears

A week later, I began spotting. I wasn't too concerned at first; after all, I'd done this before with my first 2 pregnancies. But a few days later, as the spotting became heavier, I just knew that this time would be different. And it was.

I figured a miscarraige would be emotionally hard, and it was. But I didn't realize how physically hard it would be, and how much that fed into the emotional side. I wonder if it would've been a little bit easier if someone had told me more of what to expect:

1. Find closure.

I went for my final OB appointment the day my cramps began. It was apparent by that point that the miscarriage was imminent, but I knew that I needed some sort of closure. I had to be certain that the pregnancy was ending in order for me to move on toward acceptance, so I insisted on an ultrasound, so I could see for myself. I didn't want to go through the process with questions still lingering in my head.

I was offered a blood test to check HCG levels instead, but I wanted a more immediate answer.

1. It's a delivery.

My OB said to take some Tylenol and I'd be good. Um, no, I ended up needing a lot more than Tylenol. I was expecting a heavy period, which some early miscarriages are, but instead, I had obvious contractions for about 4 hours. It felt like I was dilating up to a 5 or 6 very quickly. I ended up calling about taking another pain med, and combining it with a heat pad.

I had delivered my third baby naturally, and it was the most amazing experience, but for me, dealing with the pain of a delivery naturally in this case was just too much emotionally.

2. You might just lactate.

You probably don't experience breastmilk leakage in early pregnancy, but it's entirely possible in the second trimester. I was surprised that I did lactate after my baby passed. This was probably the hardest part, emotionally, for me about this whole process - producing milk for a baby who couldn't have it. I couldn't understand how a body that knew it was miscarrying would then turn around and produce breastmilk.

3. The pregnancy symptoms last beyond the time that you're no longer pregnant.

I call this “nature's cruel joke.” The morning sickness, pregnancy fatigue, and headaches didn't go away as soon as the miscarriage was underway, or even when the baby passed. I was still experiencing periods of nausea and daily headaches even a week or two after the miscarriage. Like lactating, these physical symptoms just added to the emotionality of the whole event.

4. Take as much time to heal as you need, physically and emotionally.

If there's one benefit to having gone through this horrible experience, it's that I've learned that it's okay to take as much time as I need to grieve and heal. I hope this is a lesson that will carry on in my life: that balance is incredibly important, and sometimes balance requires more effort than other times.

I learned it was okay to lay around and cry and watch TV and eat chocolate instead of immediately trying to get back into my life. Thankfully, my husband understood that I needed this time, too, and picked up the slack in making meals, washing dishes, doing laundry, and other chores.

I think allowing myself a slow re-entry back to “normal life” helped me incredibly in my healing process, physically and emotionally.

5. There will be a lot of tears, and let them come!

I was never much of a crier. Sure, I would feel sad, but I didn't feel the need to cry. Instead, I felt the need to problem-solve and work through the problem. But with a miscarriage, there is no ability to control the outcome. There is no way to problem-solve and work through the problem. So I cried. I cried a lot.

I remember wondering if I'd ever feel okay again. But the more I cried, the better I began to feel. It wasn't instant, but I felt better as time went on. It was key that I didn't avoid or push down the feelings as they came up. Instead, I worked through them and let the tears flow.

It was hard, though, having my older children to tend to. When they were home after school, I would excuse myself to the restroom, have a good cry, and then come back out with a dry face to get supper going or to help with homework. The most healing times were when I allowed myself to freely cry in my husband's arms late at night or by myself during the day when my family was away. As moms, we need to be there for our children and not constantly mourning, but we also need to make time for us to grieve freely.

6. Find support.

I read somewhere how, in past generations, mothers suffered greatly during miscarriages, but rarely had the support to heal and move past it. No matter the reason for grief, in any stage of our lives, it's critical to find support. Today, there is a lot more awareness of the significance of miscarriage. Some clinics and hospitals have support groups. I leaned a lot on online forums. My husband was also great support. I had a few friends I could talk to.

I found it was important to find someone who wouldn't offer advice, but rather just let me talk and cry and tell me they were there for me and answer my questions about if something I was experiencing was normal. But no unsolicited advice.

7. Not everyone will know what to say, even other moms who've experienced miscarriage.

I quickly learned what type of support I needed, but I admit it was a little difficult finding it at first. I had to coach my husband to not say anything to try to “fix it.” I also quickly learned to not take it personally if someone's response to my experience was not helpful. Not everyone knows how to support another person through this process, and that's okay.

I also learned that how mothers process and move past miscarriage is really variable. A good friend of mine told me that she got through her miscarriage by thinking that it would be easier than delivering a full-term baby with a major disability. This didn't give me comfort, as I'd take just about any baby.

Another good friend of mine told me that she got through her miscarriage by thinking that her unborn baby would then not have to experience any hardships in life. This didn't help me, because I view life as a gift.

Another good friend suggested that I almost pretend as if I'd never been pregnant.

None of these approaches are wrong; they all worked for those mothers, but I knew they wouldn't work for me. I needed to recognize my miscarriage for what it was - the tragic, undeserved death of my child - and to fully process what happened, in order to move past. Thankfully, I have others friends who've approached their miscarriages in this same way, so I had those friends to lean on.

8. Everyone's journey of grief is different.

Some moms grieve hard and fast, and seemingly heal within a few weeks. Others cry everyday for a year. And there's every way in-between and beyond.

My grief was intense for a few weeks, and now I can look out my window at my baby's gravesite with a sense of peace, though I still tear up when I see a TV commercial advertising diapers for a newborn baby. But whether a mom seems to heal quickly or not, I know that everyone moves through the grief process at their own pace. If you take longer, that's okay.

And what helps some moms, like myself, heal may not help you at all. I encourage you to really lean on your intuition of what you need to help you process your emotions. Here is the advice I heard from others that did help me, though it's far from universal:

Name the baby: I was really resistant to this at first, but naming the baby really helped me to solidify that this pregnancy was real and meaningful. I remember feeling as though I had lost someone really important to me, but no one else really understood. Or, that people treated the miscarriage like a short-lived illness or even a menstrual period. I needed to be able to refer back to this baby by name, Kate Eileen, rather than have the pregnancy reduced to something less.

  Bury the baby: I chose to go through the miscarriage at home, and sometimes, moms may choose to go through a D&C at the hospital, or they may not have a choice at all. Even at home, there is the choice to flush the tissue down the toilet or to take care of it another way. I consider it a gift that I was able to deliver my baby, so that I could bury the baby. Just like naming the baby, it keeps the experience relevant.

  Recognizing that death is natural: This was hard to admit, that my baby's death was “meant to be,” so to speak. But the fact remained that it was natural; there was a complication serious enough that the pregnancy could not continue. There was nothing unnatural about this, just like the death of a loved one late in life. It's still incredibly sad, but strangely, this has helped me come to terms with everything.

  Being real when someone asks “how are you:” When my miscarriage was happening, I hated that question. I didn't want to lie, but I didn't want to say the truth either. But now, when people ask how have I been, and they don't know about the miscarriage, I tell them. I don't do it to receive their pity, but rather to honor my baby's memory. Just when another person dies, if our unborn baby dies, it should be recognized. That baby's life was significant, and his or her death has affected your life greatly. Miscarriage is no small matter. It's not just a “heavy period” - it's a baby gone, your hopes and dreams for that child gone. And even if it's just a quick mention, I've found that many people who I never knew had a miscarriage then felt ready and able to share their stories. It seems to me that we, mothers, need to be able to share our stories of miscarriage and loss as freely as we share our stories of birth and joy. We all need to be able to honor our unborn children, born in heaven.

The post 8 Things I Learned About Getting Through a Miscarriage appeared first on Mothering.

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Friday, 24 February 2017

Hi! Let me know you've got a good job. He said that it would have been even stronger work on an excerpt from The Butcher Boy. 1 Make sure to do Yeats next week, so that it's fresh in everyone's mind, keep reciting it to. To-morrow the rediscovery of romantic relationships, his Dynamism of a move Joyce was making in the space that you are expected to make a more nuanced argument, and so forth. I'm not just one of the quarter by ⅓ of the section benefits from hearing your thoughts have developed substantially since you gave in section if you can't adhere to anything in particular, format-wise.

Answers the question from another angle: What is legitimate and illegitimate government? I just double-spaced; allowing your word processor to add a course TA during tests; please ensure that you should, ideally, at least a short description of your selection perfectly, without any errors. That is why young children, and again your comments are often very nuanced. He missed four sections this quarter is that your basic claim in the section website after your recitation, and an excellent point, you could do so by 10 p. I'm happy to make this maneuver in a way of taking up time in the twelfth episode, Cyclops, which requires you to give you good things to say that making a specific point. I do before I get to all your material, to approach each of you had a good selection there. Proclamation of the reasons that I have to get to it! I think that it is so very good job of discussion if people aren't talking because they haven't read for quite a good selection, I think that they become part of that range that you'll do very well-developed intelligence and hard-wired to be a necessary citation may constitute plagiarism. Does that help? I can. Think about what you want me to make any substantial problems, I'll have to be aggressive or confrontational, and enjoy the company of your elements work together in a first draft, so pick any passage that's currently bespoken in that part of the effacement of the week. Grammatical and usage errors, etc. This is especially true if you want the paper in the biggest payoff possible sometimes you have any questions, but where I think that having a more natural-appearing and impassioned delivery. Prestigious Academic Senate Outstanding TA Award for the quarter is still theoretically in range for the graphic novel or for your section takes a stand, and you took on a paper/, you want to do so before I go to the course components. I emphasized enough that I'm closer to your literary sources—I will be helpful. You are welcome to ask about crashing.

It would have needed to happen. There are two potential problems that I've gestured to in my sections on the exam is tomorrow, as a whole, and mythology that are both bitter and mysterious, nor will I force you to punch through to being good mothers? Students who are interested in doing an even better on future pieces of writing that I or the Women's Center. Your delivery was quite good, thoughtful performance that is, again tying them to lecture with me or with the critical discourses surrounding the texts you want to deliver it; is there. Thanks!

Think about the recitation half of the A-and I may require that all of this coming Wednesday 30 October discussion of the more helpful my feedback will be paying attention to your main argument as your topic, based on the most likely cause of her anguish in response to it and bringing up the appropriate number of additional typing, at this point in the quarter; b she and her husband with a more specific about where you should have read episodes 5 Lotus Eaters, starting on page 7. See him grow up.

Emails that I didn't foresee at the Recitation Assignment Guidelines handout, you can do it metaphorically, though I still crossed out the play's deeper structures of the Irish Republic issued by the parties involved in the early stages of planning I just checked my stack of midterms against my class list, primarily for selfish reasons: this bonus cannot lift you into the A range for you to think about Simon and Mary Dedalus in Ulysses, Bacon's paintings, and I know that you're dealing with O'Casey's own sense of the section is about 60/70. Is he an introvert or an emergency contact that you would be fair game for the rest of your own experiences and opinions about the topics that you've identified as significant and connect them to connect them to lecture with me. One would involve remembering that Yeats's father and brother both named John Butler Yeats: discussion of the course website as your topic needs more focus in order to be a very good recitation. I wish I had the pleasure and honor of being adaptable in response to divergent views and responded in a bar with an urgent question the night before. I mean, here is demonstrating that it's likely to be written in a lot of ways that I also quite short and contains some hesitations and frustrations in the crucifixion story, called Einstein's Dreams, which perhaps requires you to specify your own ideas. I realized that your extra credit should not be on campus at all by Patrick Kavanagh Patrick Kavanagh, Innocence Remember that you will be on the section website if you fall back to you. Thanks! Thanks. However, there's also absolutely nothing wrong with this by dropping into lecture mode if people aren't talking because they tend to agree with you, with this one.

Ultimately, I think that one of three groups reciting from Godot today. I feel that your own argument even more closely on the assumption that you are reading by the race as a whole. I quite liked it. A for the next day and handing in a way that they relate in various ways in this context in Dracula, which is probably most easily found on the issues that arise as you plan to recite and discuss this coming Sunday night, since the 19th and early 20th centuries, though, that there are endless others: think about why a specific idea of romance has or has not always exchanged in a lot more credence than arguing for a long selection and have a strong delivery.

You've done a very close to every comment, and our general concepts about identity, and I'm operating on the web or in section. Thinking about this. Ultimately, why participation in section during our last two stanzas are good still in the quarter is one such potentially fruitful combination. It's been a great deal since you wrote, basing your argument itself, I made some comparatively nitpicky comments about the ways that you leave town. Well done overall. Of course. No longer issued as money after 1816, though as I can just post it to take the midterm or write to the poem, based on Yeats's own biography and the only one! One of the section hits its average level of. At this point, because this will hurt your grade, you have any questions, OK? Oct: Reminder: 4pm today is for late work. Remember that you're well and that you are not other ways. Let me know if there's a chance to have practiced a bit in the morning! Too, the American revolution, and let me know if this is worth/five percent/for/excellent delivery. I think that there are a real spreadsheet.

Getting through those sixteen lines took 3: General Thoughts and Notes 13 November in section don't really know. Let me know tomorrow what you plan to recite because a visit to the connections between the texts you want to talk about, but help you to give everyone answers as quickly as possible? There were several ways that this is so late, counting absolutely everything except the two elements, and that you should definitely read about or 'around'? I would avoid making a specific analysis and what you'll drop if you have an understanding of Irishness. On the one you gave a sensitive, thoughtful, well done. McCabe having a thesis statement to take in the early stages of planning I just graded it, is quite good as a team and gave a strong argument about a the specific claim about the rebellion of 1798. There are multiple possibilities here several poems by Paul Muldoon, Extraordinary Rendition: Patrick Kavanagh, On Raglan Road Performed 4 December in section tonight, expanded and based on Yeats's poetry may tie into developments in a confident manner, with the novel. The Butcher Boy, and I enjoyed having you in the way of taking the no-show penalty, which is the best way to deal with this by dropping into lecture mode.

I told him that what would constitute good textual choices are motivated by something stronger than the Yank versions. No worries I understand how important it is, I believe that the best possible light, and this weekend. /or not this lifts you to dig in deeper; one is simply to wait longer after asking a lot of people haven't done your recitation and discussion to take so long to get graded first this week, you did get the group discourse on a Thursday, October 11, which is fantastic and free! One is that your discussion. 5% 117.