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zegrasdrysdale · 4 months

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[ photograph ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) decides to fly out to Philly for Valentine’s Day after watching Jamie say in an interview that he’ll probably be spending the day alone

warning(s) : just some tooth rotting fluff with no angst for once, a heavy makeout

author’s note : this is just a (not so) lil fluff filled thing bc i wanted to write something for belated valentine’s day. sorry or you’re welcome (idk)

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“Yeah, uh, I don’t actually have any plans tomorrow,” he explains to a reporter through the screen on her phone. “Everyone I know here does have plans and everyone else I know is across the country so I’ll most likely spend the day putting together furniture in my new apartment.”

That was the moment she decided that she was getting on the first flight she possibly could to Philly so Jamie didn’t spend Valentine’s Day alone. No one should have to spend the day alone. She doesn’t have any plans and she’s off from work for about two weeks because they’re doing renovations so a little trip to Philadelphia doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.

Last year he spent the day with Trevor on the couch and watched movies in their shared apartment. This year, he is in Philly and Trevor actually has a girlfriend. Not very ideal for Jamie.

She isn’t Jamie’s girlfriend, but she is one of his best friends and could never let him be alone on Valentine’s Day. Especially not after hearing what his actual plans are for tomorrow. She’s going to at least help him put furniture together in his apartment.

A flight out of LAX is scheduled for 10 that night. It’s six so she has about two hours to pack for a week long trip to Philly. She even buys a ticket for Saturday’s game at MetLife since she wants to see Jamie play a game while she’s in Philly.

By eight, she’s out the door with a suitcase that’s packed full of clothes and non-liquid toiletries. The jersey Jamie sent her about a week after the trade is neatly folded with the rest of her clothes. She orders an Uber to drive her to the airport.

While in the Uber, she debates texting Jamie and telling him that she’ll be at his new apartment early tomorrow morning since she’ll be landing a little before six in the morning. It’ll probably take about 45 minutes after she lands before she’s on Jamie’s doorstep.

Maybe a surprise wouldn’t be the worst thing so she puts her phone away until she has to pull out her plane ticket.

Getting on the plane takes an hour between getting past TSA and buying snacks for the nearly five hour flight. She boards the plane twenty minutes before it takes off so she has time to get comfortable.

She’s asleep before the plane even leaves the ground.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

All the snacks she bought before the flight are going to be the snacks she eats while she’s in Philly because she slept for the entire flight. It didn’t feel like she slept for 5 hours but she did.

By six, she’s at baggage claim and grabbing her suitcase. She orders an Uber to Voorhees while she waits for her things. The car is waiting for her when she get outside.

It’s a lot colder out than she thought it was going to be. All she has on is a Ducks hoodie that Jamie gave to her the year before and a pair of leggings with Uggs on her feet. Her feet are warm. The rest of her is not. She shakes as she puts her things in the trunk of the car.

She gives the driver Jamie’s new address and she’s off to surprise her best friend.

The closer she gets to Jamie’s, the more nervous she gets. What if he found someone after moving to the Philly area? What if the whole putting furniture together comment was a lie so he didn’t announce to the entire world he was in a relationship? What if he doesn’t want her there in general?

Maybe a spontaneous trip across the country without at least letting Jamie know she was coming wasn’t the best idea she’s ever had.

A call comes through from Trevor. Confused, she answers the phone. “Good morning?”

“Are you in Philly?” he asks.

“Maybe,” she slowly replies as she watches the Philly skyline pass. “Why? It’s like three in the morning.”

“Not for you apparently,” he retorts. “I looked to see where you were because Mason said you weren’t replying to his texts so I wanted to make sure you were okay and I see that you flew across the country.”

She smiles and shakes her head. The way Trevor would find out she’s in Philly is by checking her location. He and Jamie are the only ones that have her location because she’s closest with them.

“Just wanted to surprise Jamie,” she tells Trevor. “That’s all. Tell Mason I’ll call him later because I’m about ten minutes away from Jamie’s apartment.”

“You gonna tell him you love him?” Trevor questions. She opens her mouth to object but he keeps talking. “It’s so freaking obvious so don’t even lie to me.”

A nervous laugh passes her lips. “We’ll see,” she replies. “I’ll talk to you later, Z.”

“Tell me how he’s really doing,” he tells her. “I worry about him sometimes.”

“Will do,” she says as the driver pulls up to Jamie’s place. “Talk soon.”

The line goes dead and she looks out the window at the apartment building. Jamie’s somewhere in there asleep and she’s about two minutes away from calling him to come let her into the building.

She gets her things out of the trunk and thanks the driver before he drives off to pick someone else up. She sighs and pulls up Jamie’s contact.

When she presses the ‘call’ button, it rings about four times before Jamie answers. The entire time, her hands are shaking and she isn’t sure if it’s because of the cold or if she’s nervous to see Jamie for the first time since the trade.

“It’s like four in the morning,” he croaks when he picks up. “Are you okay?”

She smiles at the sound of his morning voice. “Actually it’s almost seven in the morning and I’m currently freezing my ass off outside your apartment building so if you could come let me in, that would be great,” she says.

It sounds like Jamie falls out of bed when she says that she’s outside of the building. If he broke anything then she’s going to have to explain to Torts why Jamie will be out for six weeks.

He isn’t holding any body parts when he swings the door open and blankly stares at her from the top of the steps of the building. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to decide if he’s still dreaming or if he’s awake. She waves and a barefoot Jamie runs down the stairs to hug her.

A laugh passes her lips and she wraps her arms around his torso. “You’re actually here,” he says against her ear. “I thought you were lying to me.”

“Nope,” she replies. “I’m here. I didn’t have anything else to do so I thought I’d come surprise you. Help you put together some furniture for Valentine’s Day.”

Jamie pulls back from the hug just enough to look at her. “You saw that interview?” he asks.

With a nod and a smile, she replies, “It sounded like a very boring way to spend Valentine’s Day so I thought I’d come keep you company. Maybe watch you play at the outdoor game this weekend. I have another week off from work and spending it in the Philly area with my best friend didn’t sound like the worst idea.”

“You are actually insane for buying a plane ticket without knowing if I’d be here or not,” he tells her. “I could’ve left for Toronto before you got here since we play them tomorrow.”

“Yeah I know how your travel schedule works,” she retorts. “That’s how I knew you’d be here.”

He shakes his head and grabs her suitcase. “You have some of the best timing because I took a maintenance day today so I have a day off from practice, but I leave tomorrow morning for Toronto,” he says to her as they walk into the building together.

“Listen, I’m spending a week in the area,” she replies. “I get to watch you play at the outdoor game on Saturday when I wasn’t planning on being on the east coast at all. If you’re gone for a day or two then it’s fine.”

The smile that forms on Jamie’s face makes her heart do somersaults in her stomach.

She can tell how excited he is that she decided to visit him. She knows how much he has been missing Anaheim so she brought Anaheim to him for a week.

When Jamie opens the door to the apartment, she is very surprised by how decorated it is and how much of the stuff he had in his Anaheim apartment has made its way to this one. It still needs some work done, but that is why she’s here. She’s here to help him finish putting it all together.

“I need to build some shelves,” Jamie tells her. “And put together the guest bedroom. The frame still needs to be built for the guest bed too. This is what my plans were for the day.”

She turns her head to look at him as he closes the door behind them. “So it wasn’t come ruse so you didn’t have to admit to the world that you had a secret girlfriend?” she questions.

If she should expect Jamie to have a girl over then she might as well get the girlfriend question out of the way early on in her visit.

“Uh, no,” he replies. “No secret girlfriend. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had any time to find a girlfriend. Yorky has tried but he’s not the best wingman.”

She can’t help but laugh. Jamie smiles and rolls her suitcase to the unfinished bedroom.

She decides to make some coffee for the two of them so they can get started on the day’s plans. They have to put together the guest room and build some shelves. It can’t be very hard to do either of those things. Right?

Wrong.

It turns out that Jamie can’t follow simple instructions to save his life. She has had to refrain from throwing whatever is in her hand at him so many times because he can’t read a piece of paper.

“Jamie, what am I supposed to do with this screw?” she asks as she holds up an extra screw. “Do I have to put it in your head so you can use your brain or something? You missing one in there? Do I need to get Trevor on the first flight out of LAX to come help you figure out how to read the instructions?”

Jamie looks up from his spot on the floor and throws the instructions at her. “Here, you try to read this and tell me if it makes any sense,” he retorts. “It’s all confusing. My parents helped me build shelves when they came to visit a few weeks ago. I didn’t have to do this. Maybe it’s just an extra.”

She grabs the pamphlet and reads the directions. The screw was supposed to be put in when putting the shelves in place. A shelf is missing a screw.

“You dumbass,” she says. “It’s not an extra screw. It was supposed to be put in on the bottom shelf to make sure it is secure and even. You now have an unsecure shelf in your guest room.”

Jamie flattens out on his back on the carpeted floor with a groan. “This is why I’m a hockey player and don’t work in home improvement,” he says as he rubs his eyes. She laughs and tries to keep her eyes on his face instead of on the sliver of skin that peeks out between what is a new Flyers t-shirt and pajama pants. “This is so dumb. I am not about to take that whole thing apart to put one screw in.”

She walks over and slaps the pamphlet on his stomach. He gasps and sits up with the paper in his hands. “Then get it together, Drysdale,” she tells him. “We have a bed frame to build.”

“Fuck the bed frame,” he sighs as she grabs the box in the corner and drags it into the center of the room. “You don’t need a bed to sleep in tonight.”

With a light laugh, she teases, “If we don’t get it set up then I’m gonna be sleeping in your bed until we get it put together.”

Jamie mutters something that sounds like “would be okay with me” but she pretends she doesn’t hear it. She can’t hear it or else she will just say “fuck it” and sleep in Jamie’s bed the entire time she’s here instead of putting the bed together.

The mattress is sitting up against the wall next to where the box with the bed frame was. He has everything he needs to put this bed together and he hasn’t done it yet. Not even over the All Star break when he had a few days off before going to Mexico with the Flyers.

Putting the bed together takes less time and a lot less arguing back and forth. Within an hour, the mattress is on top of the bed frame. Five-foot-eleven 185 pound Jamie flops on the mattress to make sure it’s secure and won’t fall apart if someone were to jump on it.

They do not need to have another shelf problem with the bed that she will most likely be sleeping on while she’s in the area. If it is like the shelf and it’s not safe to sleep on then the couch is in the living room for a reason.

The two of them stand in the doorway and look at their work when they decide the bed is secure. “We make an amazing team,” she comments. “Aside from the shelf.”

Jamie groans and walks down the hallway to his own room. “Shelves are stupid anyway,” he replies. “Who is actually going to use them in this room aside from me just putting a handful of books and pictures on them?” She laughs and goes to unpack her stuff now that it’s safe to do so without stepping on wood, metal or a screw on the floor.

The Flyers jersey that he sent her gets hung up in the closet along with her shirts, hoodies, and nicer pants. She’ll pull bras, panties, and socks out of the suitcase as needed. The beanie she brought to wear on Saturday is put on the bedside table.

Then she pulls out the gift that she brought for Jamie. It isn’t much but she’s hoping that it means as much to him as it does to her. The pictures she brought were taken at such important moments in Jamie’s career and she hopes that he doesn’t mind having a few pictures of his best friend around the apartment.

She walks down to Jamie’s bedroom and knocks gently on the door. There are footsteps behind it before the door swings open. “I, um, had these printed and framed in case I ever came to visit you,” she tells him as she holds out the three picture frames. “Thought you might need some décor.”

Jamie looks down at the pictures and shifts through them.

One of them was taken on Jamie’s Draft Day. He has on a Ducks jersey and she has on his Ducks hat. He looks so happy. He has an arm around her shoulders while he holds up six fingers and is smiling at the camera. She has a smile on his face and is looking up at him with a proud look on her face. Messy ponytail and all.

The second one was taken the day Jamie made his NHL debut and scored his first goal. It’s a selfie she took of her, Jamie, and Trevor at dinner that same night. They’re both holding their pucks because they went right from the arena to a restaurant to eat.

The third one was taken during the 2021 World Juniors tournament where Canada placed second. She’s putting the silver medal back around his neck after he had given it to her. “Silver just means you lost” is what he had said to her a moment before this was captured. She had told him that she was a winner to him and put the medal back around his neck. There is heavy eye contact between the two of them in their matching jerseys.

It was as the third picture was being taken she realized that she loved Jamie. The first two pictures, she knew she had feelings for him, but the third was when she realized that she wanted to be there for him as more than just a friend.

“I had no idea you had any of these,” he says after he’s done looking through them. Jamie looks up at her. “All at different points of my career.”

“Been with you since day one,” she replies with a smile on her face. “You didn’t think that I wouldn’t be here with you while you succeed in a whole new city, did you?”

Jamie laughs and shakes his head. “Absolutely not,” he tells her. “You always make sure you’re a presence in my life.” He pauses and looks right at her. “It’s one of the things I love most about having you in my life.”

She could almost cry when he says that.

There have been so many times over the years where she thought she was annoying or that he wanted her out of his life. She followed him to California when he started playing with the Gulls then the Ducks. He asked her to come with him, but she thought for months it was out of pity.

He has erased years of insecurity with one comment.

“Thanks for keeping me in your life,” she replies after a brief moment of silence.

“You’re like Trevor,” he teases. “You’re always around. It would be hard for me to get rid of you.”

She smiles up at him. “Except he would never fly across the country to see you,” she retorts. “Especially without at least telling you he was coming to see you.”

Jamie laughs. “No, he wouldn’t.”

They look at each other for a second before he walks past her. He has the picture frames in his hand as he walks into the living room. She follows him even though she is confused with what he’s doing.

He puts the picture of himself, Trevor, and (Y/N) on the coffee table under the lamp next to the couch. It’s the most public place in the entire place so it makes sense that that’s the picture that is put in the living room.

The picture of the two of them on Draft Day goes on a little table that leads to the hallway with both bedrooms and bathrooms. The table is under a little mirror that’s been hung up. A little less public but it also joins the other pictures that were taken that day. It looks like it belongs.

Jamie glances at her and walks back into his bedroom. She follows right behind him and stands in the doorway of his room. Her eyes are on the picture of the two of them at the 2021 World Juniors as it’s placed on Jamie’s bedside table.

“This one means the most to me so it deserves a little more privacy than the others,” Jamie tells her without a look in her direction. “You were there for me and picked me up when I was down. I didn’t want anyone else there but you. You were the one that convinced me silver was okay. The team worked hard to get to that moment. The medal was very well deserved because we did everything we could to make it to that game. I did everything I could to get the team to that game. We just came up a little bit short.”

She pouts and walks further into the room. He finally looks over at her. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” she softly says to him. “I didn’t know that I was the person that convinced you it was okay to wear silver around your neck.”

“I needed silver because my gold medal was you,” Jamie shakily admits. His voice is soft. “You’re my gold medal.”

His words have her speechless. Her jaw drops in surprise. She has no idea why he’s saying this to her now.

He reaches out to her and brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She takes a step forward and feels her heart race in her chest as she looks up at him. Her body shakes as she realizes that their relationship is changing.

A line that she never expected to cross is about to be crossed. She can see it in Jamie’s eyes as they examine her face, landing on her lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

She nods because she doesn’t trust herself to speak. She is afraid that she’s going to admit how long she’s been in love with him if she says a single words.

So she nods, and Jamie leans down to capture her lips in a soft, hesitant kiss. He’s testing the waters to see if she’ll push him away.

She’ll never push him away.

Not when she finally has him like this. Not when she finally knows what it feels like to kiss Jamie Drysdale.

When she feels him begin to pull away, she wraps her arms around his neck and leans more into him to deepen the kiss instead of Jamie breaking it. Her fingers find a home in his hair.

She is scared he will regret it if the kiss breaks, and she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want to see that look. It might break her if he looks at her like that if the kiss breaks.

Jamie cups her cheek and brushes his thumbs over her cheekbone. She melts against him with a sigh.

“(Y/N),” he mumbles after a second. “I need to breathe.”

That’s when she lets him pull away. The sight of his red, swollen lips and unruly hair is almost too much for her. There’s a hint of a smile on his face and something overcomes her.

“I love you,” she tells him. “I’ve loved you since that was taken.” She points in the direction of the picture on his bedside table. “It’s always been you, Jamie. That’s why I flew across the country on Valentine’s Day. I wanted to be with you today because I miss you and I love you.”

Jamie smiles and brushes his thumb over her own lips that are as red and swollen as his are. “I love you too,” he says. “I think I’ve been in love with you since I saw you at my first NHL game in my jersey. I’m very happy you came to the east coast to watch me play in the Stadium Series game this weekend. I was going to probably fly you out anyway.”

She laughs and shakes her head before burying her face in his chest. They’ve been in love with each other for years and are only now saying something about it after Jamie was traded to Philly and she’s stuck in Anaheim for right now.

“Only took me bringing you pictures to finally kiss me,” she teases.

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up and come here.”

Their lips meet in a heated kiss. Everything they’ve been feeling is coming out in the kiss. Jamie tugs her until she is sitting on his lap while he’s sitting on the mattress. She drapes her arms over his shoulders.

It’s that moment when she realizes they put together a whole bed for no reason because there is now no way she is getting in that bed now.

She pushes him down until Jamie is lying flat on his back and their chests are flush against each other. Her hair creates a curtain around their faces despite his fingers curling in her locks.

“Wait, hold on,” Jamie says. She pulls back from the kiss. “Have something to ask you before we get distracted.”

“Hm?”

“Will you come to family skate on Friday before the game at MetLife?” he asks. “As my girlfriend?”

The biggest smile forms on her lips. “You’re going to have to give me skating lessons because despite watching you play hockey for years, I have no idea how to skate,” she tells him.

“I will give you skating lessons,” Jamie laughs. “You’ll come though?”

She nods and kisses him. “I’ll come.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

yourusername

liked by jamie.drysdale, philadelphiaflyers, and 193,872 others

yourusername life recently w my 🤍

view all 15,982 comments

fan1 JAMIE HAS A GIRLFRIEND ????

masonmctavish23 ig i forgive you for not answering my texts last week

yourusername we can hang out when i get back into cali on wednesday

masonmctavish23 good. i’m mad that jamie stole you from us

fan2 oh my god. this is so cute

fan3 you were at metlife ??? i think i walked past you at one point

yourusername i had on the drysdale jersey

trevorzegras oh this is all i’m gonna hear about when she gets back

leocarlssoon it’s about time. i was praying this would happen bc the way jamie talked about you was insane

jamie.drysdale let me live !!

philadelphiaflyers Thanks for coming out

jamie.drysdale skating w my girlfriend for the first time was the best feeling 🩵

yourusername being your girlfriend is the best feeling

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lifeinkinder · 1 year

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Complainy school post is complainy

My student teacher is not great. He's not lesson planning. He's waiting until the very last minute to prep for the day - like morning of or right before the lesson reviewing what he's supposed to be teaching. He also wants to start full takeover early but still hasn't taught guided reading. So like...idk.

He wants to be my long term, but he still hasn't been interviewed by the district, so he hasn't been hired yet. And he doesn't have a sub license yet, so idk if that's going to happen. I'm making sure I have things prepped for the very likely chance it isn't him because he can't get his shit together.

My principal told the head secretary she needed to ask me when exactly my last day before leave was going to be. First of all, you couldn't ask me yourself? Second of all, I don't know because plans + babies don't always fit together.

My volunteer was a no show on Friday and that's annoying. I did all this prep for them and they just didn't show up.

Only 2 parents signed up to guest read for Read Across America Week which is frustrating. I've heard feedback that there aren't enough opportunities for families to get into the classroom, but when I do things (polar express, naapid, read across america, 100th day volunteers) no one signs up. Either you want to come in or you don't, but don't give feedback that there aren't enough opportunities because 3 of those 4 I listed above have been in Feb.

The behavior in my classroom is out of control. And I'm pretty sure student teacher is the root of it. He doesn't know how to talk to them. And he picks at certain students...doesn't let anything go. Also because he's unprepared, they take that weakness and exploit it. Because who wouldn't? I mean they might be kindergartners, but they see weakness.

I have a dr. appointment on the evening of PT conferences and my admin would only agree to give me 45 minutes to attend the appointment and I have to make up those 45 minutes on Friday. Like you legit just can't work with me here? I could literally schedule those conferences any other day after contract hours to make up the time, but you've insisted on after conferences on Friday. I will likely be the only person in the building after 11 if I do have parents who sign up (praying I don't so I can scoot before anyone notices I'm gone).

One of my kids had all the tell-tell signs of ringworm (perfect circle of grossness in at least 2 places. Our school nurse was sure it was ringworm But the ped said it was only eczema. The ped also prescribed an anti-fungal for the 'only eczema' so obviously I'm skeptical of that diagnosis.

Not a complaint:

One of my kids gave me a hug and laid his head on my shoulder and both his hands on my belly. The babies didn't kick but they did after he stepped away.

#adventures in teaching #good things have happened too #but i'm feeling extra whiny about work atm because it's stressing me out

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infinite-happiness · 1 year

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GKS-G 2023 (1st Round Embassy Track) - Part 1

Hello world!

So this is my very first post here.

Maybe I'll be talking about my GKS application journey on this blog and share my experiences online with you guys (if you happened to stumble upon my writings or just somehow ended up here on this blog :D)! Let's get the ride together!!

Anyway, I made it to the 1st round selection (and hopefully will do so until the final round - Amiin *praying hard) of the Global Korea Scholarship program for the 2023 intake . Well, so proud of myself for making it so far (patting me on the back XD). You did well myself! :)

The application itself is such a tiring, long process which require time and dedication (money I could say hehe). Currently, I am waiting for the 2nd round result by NIIED (합격 고고) which will be announced on early May (dunno maybe in the first week? last year it was on the 6th!) And while waiting, I think it would be good to record my application journey so far, so here I am writing this! Hope this will helpful too for you guys who are interested in applying GKS in the future!^^

So first thing first, I had to prepare all the documents while working full time that it was quite stressing for me. I only had time after work to write my essays. In addition, as English is not first language in my country, I had to get my documents translated into English first and then going back and forth to get my documents apostilled (as I am not living in the capital city - it took me 2 hours one way). Another thing is about the recommendation letter (this consumed me more time and energy than I thought haha - you guys better prepare it beforehand). I asked my academic advisor to write one (I had prepared my draft before contacting him, which he then asked about it actually). I had to explain to him multiple times to make sure he signs across the backflap of the envelop as well. But when I got the document.. no.. nothing! my professor didn't sign on the backflap :( On top of that, the document was so messed up, it was crumpled here and there (JNE is not professional this time ㅠ). I had to contact my professor again and asked him to send me a new one (with sign on the backflap) and to put some cardboard along with the packet to make sure it arrived safely. In the end I got my letter back (safely), but it took about one week (obviously lol).

After that, I arranged all the documents needed and sent it to the Korean embassy like one weeks before the application closed (still using JNE tho wkwk). The applicants of the embassy track in my country (I'm from Indonesia) was around 699 people and the quota is only 27! YES, you read it right! I had almost like 700 competitors ㅠ but I was indeed so lucky to get selected (Thanks God!).

The Korean embassy in my country chose like 45 candidates in the document screening. They announced the successful candidates list on their website, but they only posted the applicant's given name (last year they published the full name), and there was my first name as well! But, but.. the thing is my name is not unique at all, most of the women in my country are having the same name with me :) and that was not cool all lol. I was afraid if it actually were not me (although I had a feeling that is was me ㅋㅋ) and got more paranoid after asking one of the 2022 successful applicants as he said that last year the embassy mailed the successful candidates first before posting the list on the website. And I didn't receive any mail from the embassy (had been checking every 5 minutes lol, inbox and spam). I couldn't concentrate on my work because of my anxiety (despite that my Korean ehm crush (?) kept telling me that I would make it because I have TOPIK level 6 - but still.. ㅠ). And then the lunch time came and I was about to do my Dhuzr prayer that I got an email from the embassy congratulating me! I was so happy and was about to cry until I finally read on the mail that I had to do the interview the next day (they said it would start from 8 to 11, first come first serve based)! Yep, the next very day! Congrats to me! lol . I felt overwhelmed because I'm new in my company, and I didn't know if one day notice for a leave is acceptable here. So as soon as I finished my prayer, I reached up to the HR representative in my Department and asked her about the matter. She said that it was okay as long as my supervisor okay with it. Fortunately, my supervisor let me to take a leave for the next day (thank you Mr~ - I told him that I had an urgent family matter lol).

With that, I started the interview preparation as soon as I got off from work. I studied my essays (read it again and again), watched videos related and read people's blogs as well (thank you people :)). I also made a list of questions that the interviewers might ask and recorded myself to practice my answers until late (not recommended but I had no choice ㅜ).

Well, this is going to be a loooong story so maybe I will split it into some parts (I know you guys will be bored to read a very long passage coz so do I :D). Will be back for the second part about my interview experience (and hopefully will be consistent with this blog XD)!

Thank you for reading! Have a lovely day! <3

XOXO

#gks #kgsp #gks2023 #global korea scholarship #studyinkorea #korea #beasiswakorea #indonesia #niied #scholarship #graduate school #korea selatan #south korea #2023

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calummss · 3 years

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The Winter Soldier And His Child | Sebastian Stan

masterlist

summary: sebastian’s daughter surprises him at comic con

words: 1.5K

a/n: Îngerul meu = my angel; Tată = daddy

It’s been two weeks since Sebastian left for the ‘Captain America: Civil War’ press tour, leaving you and your 4-year-old daughter Lotta back home. You missed him, but especially your daughter. When she was younger there was no explanation needed and now you had to tell her that her dad was on a work trip that required him to be gone for a bit.But instead you had an idea; fly over to San Diego to surprise Sebastian at Comic Con, well mostly surprise him with Lotta.

‘Lotta.’ you called your daughter’s name, carrying a suitcase in your hand.

You could hear tiny feet running towards the door, into the open dining area. ‘Hmm.’

She looked at you with big eyes not knowing what was going on.

‘Remember when Tată flew away because he had to go to work?’ you reached the top of the stairs.

‘Yes. He went so early, you woke me up when it was really dark outside.’

‘That’s right. I thought it would be a fun idea to surprise Tată at work.’

‘Surprise him?’

‘Yes. If we surprise him, he will be very happy. Don’t you think it’s a good idea?’

‘I want to surprise Tată.’ she stated, throwing her hands in the air.

‘But first we have to pack our clothes because we’re leaving tomorrow night.’

Lotta nodded and headed straight to her room and rummaged through her closet. You spent the day packing and getting the passports ready for a smooth journey. And when it was time to leave you locked the door, strapped Lotta into her car seat and drove towards the airport. The motorway was mostly empty considering it was around 2 a.m. The car ride was filled with Disney songs belted out of your and her lungs. The two of you knew the entire playlist by heart and at the end of the session you felt proud. The singing tired Lotta out and soon enough she fell into a deep slumber.

The trip was problem-free and soon enough you landed in sunny San Diego and were on your way to the Hotel. The sky was a bright blue, lined with big cotton-like clouds. With the help of Anthony, you were able to get into Sebastian’s room.

You placed your bags on the ground and checked the time. 12 p.m. You had 3 hours of free time before Sebastian’s interview for Civil War started. You took this time to shower and change into a new pair of clothes. Lotta was watching television having already slept the entire journey. After you were done, you changed her into an olive green jeans dress with detachable straps. It had a big pocket in the middle of the chest where she loved to place flowers. You combined the dress with a white long sleeve t-shirt. You combed her hair and put two frog hair clips on each side of her head.

Once you were done it was time to surprise Sebastian.

✰ ✰ ✰

03:45 p.m.—it’s already been 45 minutes since the interview started. You were currently sitting backstage waiting to send Lotta to the stage. The cast of Civil War was currently sitting at a long table answering various types of questions asked by the interviewer and fans.

‘Okay, Lotta. Do you see Tată?’ you pointed to Sebastian who was seated in the middle of the row.

‘Mhm.’ she nodded, turning her head back to you.

‘You can go and run over to Tată now, okay?’

She nodded again. And with that, her feet took off and ran up the small ramp onto stage.

‘TATĂ!’ she yelled, running towards Sebastian.

He turned his head and widened his eyes as he looked at the little girl running on stage. Realising it was his daughter, he jumped from his seat and picked her up, embracing her into a tight hug. ‘Îngerul meu!’

The crowd let sounds of cheers and awws fill the room.

Sebastian smiled at his daughter, giving her a kiss.

‘I had no idea this was going to happen.’ he said into the mic, making everyone laugh.

‘Surprise.’ she whispered, smiling brightly.

‘Oh I’m surprised! What are you doing here?’

It might’ve been the fact that Lotta was being stared at by hundreds of people and instead of answering his question, buried her head into his chest. Sebastian carried Lotta to his seat and sat her on her lap.

‘How's my favourite girl?’ Chris cheered as soon as Sebastian settled back into his chair. Lotta’s face reappeared from Sebastian’s chest and gave him a thumbs up, quickly hugging him.

Eventually the crowd had also settled and Lotta was on her father’s lap where he absentmindedly played with her hair. The main part of the interview was done and now only consisted of questions being asked by lucky audience members, fans and occasionally the interviewer. Social media was already filling up with pictures of Seb and Lotta for the rest of his fans to see.

‘Now Sebastian, who is this young lady.’ the interviewer asked with a hint of sarcasm, already knowing the answer.

‘This is my daughter ‘Lotta’. He looked down at Lotta. ‘Do you want to say ‘Hi’ to everyone and tell them what your name is.’

Lotta smiled. ‘Hello, my name is Lotta.’

The crowd awed as she spoke. The rest of the cast laughed.

‘And what did she call you when she came running up to you? Was it ‘Tata’?’

‘Yes,’ Sebastian chuckled. ‘It means ’Daddy’ in Romanian.’

‘Does your daughter speak Romanian then?’

‘Yeah, she does. She actually speaks Romanian, English and German.’ he smiled proudly.

‘Wow. That’s incredible.’

The crowd continued to ask various types of questions which the cast answered. Sebastian was too busy playing with Lotta until a question snapped him out of his little bubble.

‘Hi! My name is Ben. My question is for Sebastian.’ he paused. ‘Has your daughter seen the Captain America movies and if so, what does she think of Bucky?’

‘Ouhh that’s a great question, even I wanna know.’ Sam blurted out, turning his head to Sebastian.

‘Hi Ben.’ Seb smiled at him. ‘Yes, she has seen the movies, very recently to, and we can just ask her.’

Sebastian held his mic next to Lotta to make sure everyone could hear her.

‘Lotta, what do you think about Tată’s movies we watched with Mommy back home?’

Lotta hesitated before speaking. ‘You had a metal arm with a star on it. And you were really angry all the time because bad people wanted to hurt you.’

‘That’s right, I had a metal arm.’

‘And Chris and Sam were superheroes that tried to save you too.’

Seb smiled. ‘Did you like the movies?’

‘Mhh’ I like them a lot. I also liked the man that turned really small and really big.’ she giggled, showing the difference with her fingers and arms.

‘You liked Ant-Man?’

‘Yes, but Spiderman is my favourite.’

Sebastian chuckled, ‘Well there you have it. I hope that answered your question.’

‘Thank you.’ the boy chuckled, passing the mic to the staff and sitting back down.

After that Sebastian returned his attention to Lotta who found the mic rather interesting. He brushed strands of hair behind her ear, trying to gain more access to her face, occasionally stroking her cheek. You could tell Sebastian was over the moon. His face was lit up ever since he laid his upon his daughter. A permanent smile was stitched onto his face. Occasionally Chris would play with Lotta’s hands resulting in mini games, making her beam widely.

‘Okay, we have to wrap this up, so one last question from that lovely girl in the neon green t-shirt. Yes, you.’

‘Hi! I just want to say how much I appreciate you and the movies and you never fail to amaze me.’

The cast gushed as she continued.

‘I was wondering if there are any family traditions that you and Y/N have?

Sebastian sat up and grabbed the mic.

‘Yes, we do actually. Every month or two, we sit down and make Pelmeni which are Russian dumplings filled with meat. They were and still are Y/N’s favourite food and she eats them all the time—even during her pregnancy with this one. I think she ate them for 7 months straight.’ he laughed. And it just kind of evolved out of that. I love them and Lotta does too, so we sit there and fold some dumpli-‘

‘I love Pelmeni.’ Lotta suddenly stated, making everyone laugh out loud.

‘As you see I’m not saying when she says she loves them. But thank you for your question.’

The girl sat back down.

The end of the interview was coming nearer and Lotta was being lulled into a light slumber as Seb was rocking her. The attention of so many people had tired her out. The interviewer ended the session and the cast said their goodbyes. Sebastian was the first to come down the stairs, holding Lotta’s hand. A familiar pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around your torso, pulling you into a tight hug.

‘That was a lovely surprise.’ he whispered into your ear making you giggle.

‘I thought so too. I’m glad you liked it.’

‘Come here.’ he smirked before pulling you into a kiss.

The three of you left the convention and spent the day exploring the city being grateful for one another.

824 notes · View notes

willowser · 3 years

Text

'cause i love the way you call me baby—

bakugou x reader

wc: 15.6k+

warnings: 18+, explicit language, spicy situations (no smut), bakugou is like really bad at feelings, kirishima continues to be a well-meaning menace, angst, fluff, pro hero au

< < < part one |

7:32 A

Bakugou is always so subtly punctual.

By the time you gather the will to meet the chilly morning head on, he is already sitting in your parking lot. The black SUV is idling quietly and he isn't rolling down the window, urging you to hurry your ass up or honking like he'd threatened to at work only days ago. His eyes, much brighter than yours this early, are already on you—as they seem to always be, these days—and you swear it is the cold bite in the air that steals the breath from your lungs.

Though the warmth of your apartment is enticing, you give him a small wave (that he doesn’t return) before locking the door behind you. There is a thin layer of ice covering the short walkway in front of the complex and you strain your toes in your fuzzy boots while stepping carefully, though the effort not to make a fool of yourself is wasted; the pro hero waiting safely inside his vehicle laughs, loudly, when your foot slides across the ice, hands going to grip the rail along the sidewalk so tightly, you fear it'll yank loose from the stud.

It's the first thing you hear out of him, so early in the morning, his brash laughter. Despite the offense, the giggle that bubbles out of you, too, can't be helped.

"Thanks so much for the help, sir!" Is the first thing out of you upon yanking open the door and scrambling in, eager to bask in the warmth of his vehicle (and him).

Immediately, the mischievous glint in his eye dissipates. "Don't start with that crap."

Though you're well aware of what he means, you tilt your head curiously; early morning be damned, you can always find the will to tease your boss. "Crap, sir? I'm afraid I don't follow."

Bakugou throws his car in reverse and leans close, putting his arm around your seat as he backs out of the parking lot. The muscle in his cheek is jumping as he grits his teeth, drawing your eyes to the sharp cut of his jaw, and the scent of his cologne almost makes you sigh audibly. It smells expensive, like orchids and spice and comfort, and sleep is still so heavy upon you that it takes genuine effort not to sink forward to bury your face in his chest.

With his arm still around the seat, he glares down at you. "You clock in this morning?"

"No sir, but—"

"Bakugou." He barks, lips pulling back slightly, enough to show his canines, enough to show how serious he is.

A small smile graces you, one that cools the flickering heat in his red eyes, and you say, "Bakugou."

His gaze lingers for another moment, another thud of your heartbeat, before he shifts in his seat and begins to drive. "The hell are we going, anyway?"

Yukiko—the Sports Illustrated representative who will be interviewing Bakugou later—has already sent you the address of the diner she'd like to meet at. The printed out email is folded into the small backpack you'd brought along for the day, but the location has been typed into your phone so many times, it's well ingrained in your memory at this point. The navigation app in his expensive, massive car could easily guide him, but he lets you pull up Google Maps on your phone, let’s you tell him to take a left at the next stop sign, let's you direct him.

(The back up camera on the dash of the SUV could have also helped him get out of the parking lot; turning around, putting an arm behind your seat, leaning close had all been a choice.)

(It's still a young enough morning that you're embarrassed for already falling prey to this giddy, school-girl manner—as you always seem to do, these days—though it's safe to say this isn't anything new, not with Bakugou.)

The route offers a 45 minute drive and this acknowledgement is met with a disgruntled groan as you say it. There's a weighted, guilty part of you that feels bad again that you've dragged him to do this bullshit ass thing, though Bakugou does little more than huff and sigh; days ago, when you'd voiced the penitent nerves gnawing at you, he'd said (with red ears),

"I'm not forcing you, if you don't wanna go, don't."

and that hadn't been what you meant and that's what you told him, to which he replied (eyes on his monitor),

"Then cram it. We're goin'."

It almost feels like he's just waiting for you to say something, because he sends you fleeting little glances everytime he checks his rear view mirror, ready to cut you off at the first chance should you start that crap again. It takes all your strength to bite back a smile, to keep your hands and gaze on the phone.

Things with your boss have changed—subtly. There's this air that settles between the two of you now—different than before, when every thought you had ended in a question mark—and it's almost a little awkward, like at any moment something could come forth from either one of you and it would be somehow both unexpected and yet not entirely.

The lock on Red Riot’s door has been replaced, it's no longer a hassle to open (one less struggle in your morning); administrator privileges have been granted to you in order to change the schedule easier, quicker ("might as well have 'em, since you bother me about it all the damn time"); a single cup coffee maker appeared on your desk overnight.

Bakugou has asked you to lunch one time—"you hungry or what?"—and if you hadn't already eaten with Reverse, you would have indulged him (and yourself). That snub—and the unreadable look on his face—has haunted you more than once late at night, springing your eyes open as your brain worked through all the things he might have said during a meal with a friend and not under the guise of a work related afternoon.

Maybe he would have complimented you, trying to remain indifferent while admitting he thought you looked nice, or maybe the afternoon wouldn't have ended, extending into the evening, the two of you unable to fall back into a routine that—somewhere along the way—began to feel limited.

"Oi!" He snaps, and you jerk your eyes from your reverie, away from the window and back down to your phone.

"Oh, um, oh, shit," the heat of Bakugou's glare is scorching the skin of your face, "you need to change lanes, like, now."

"Are you fucking kidding me—" He leans completely away (another choice, one that has you grimacing to yourself) while looking behind him, probably breaking several traffic laws because of your absent-mindedness. "Gimme that!" One of his hands completely encompasses your own, warm fingers sliding between yours and the phone before he snatches it away.

"Sorry." The sheepish smile you send him goes wholly ignored. "Am I fired, sir, from navigating?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely," Bakugou spits, "you're the worst."

Maybe he would have held your hand or paid for your meal, but maybe he would have swatted at you for trying to steal from his plate. Maybe he would have insulted your taste in food, or chastised your less-than-healthy meal option.

You would have enjoyed it all the same.

—

8:36 A

There's a handful of things you know about the interview:

The topic at hand is hero life after graduating

Absolutely no questions about any past, present or future cases

Absolutely no personal questions, such as religious views, political opinions, or the intimate details of Dynamight's notoriously private love life

The whole interview will be video recorded and released on YouTube later—along with a few behind-the-scenes questions—in a few months

The photo shoot will take place at a separate location

The diner the company rented out is nice, decorated with neon lights and posters of American icons: Elvis, Marilyn Monroe, Martin Luther King Jr., and the like. It's a little tacky, you think, but cute.

Bakugou thinks it doesn't make any damn sense to have the interview here, considering it has nothing to do with hero work—his or any other in Japan. It’s a valid point; while you agree with the argument, there is a pink and white jukebox near the entrance that is just waiting for you to start throwing your paycheck its way.

"Would you rather it be at your apartment, or the office?"

It's gloomy out, skies a sleepy mixture of blue and gray, and the dim glow filtering through the windows compliments him; it's Bakugou in a different light, a tranquil one, as if the weather is any indication of his change in attitude from those feral U.A days.

"Fuck no," he grumbles, ever unrefined, slouching into the table as if it will swallow him up and deliver him from this personal hell of your own making.

Yukiko is a few minutes late—despite the two of you being a few minutes late—so you're sitting across from him, leaning forward so that neither of you have to speak loud or disrupt the morning lingering in the empty restaurant. There's a waitress behind the counter brewing a pot of coffee and you're tempted to ask for a cup.

"Then cram it, sir." The unstoppable smile that blooms is hidden behind your fist, trying in earnest to press your mouth against your palm so he won't detonate.

"Think you're real fucking funny, don't ya'?" His carmine eyes are impossibly small and, though the sight might have scared you at one point, all it does is roll your eyes to the window. When you look back at him, he's staring hard at your face; the annoyance is undeniable, but there's something lingering between the clench of his teeth.

His hands are resting on the table, only inches from yours, and the urge to reach out and touch him fills you so abruptly that even he notices the motion of your fingers.

But—like always, these days—the doors to the diner swing open and the sounds of technical equipment and cameras flashing tell you all you need to know without ever turning around.

"My hero!" Yukiko beams, though your boss visibly recoils.

The first thing you notice about her is how professionally stunning she is—and the second is the quick up-and-down scan Bakugou gives her.

With a poreless face and smile so bright you nearly need to squint, she greets the both of you in such a charming way, any frustration you'd held at her for being late is immediately soothed. Her hair is long and dark, thick, curled in a way that is meant to look effortless (and it does), falling near her collarbones where two dainty necklaces ornament her. The pantsuit she's wearing does wonders for her skin tone and you are reminded of your own slightly damp clothes, outfitted in a jacket that probably makes you look puffer than usual.

When she calls him Dynamight, he has the decency to nod once and grit out, "Bakugou."

Then she turns to you in the plastic, pink booth across from him and asks, "Mind if I sit here for the cameras? You look like you would enjoy a milkshake!"

Life isn't a competition, and Yukiko's overwhelming beauty and professionalism (and charm and fashion sense and cute laugh and manicured nails and fit figure) doesn't mean that you are any less than her, but the insecurity rising within you while sliding from the booth is remorseless. She looks like the type of person that's been cut from the pages of a magazine with a perfectly scripted personality and has been pasted over your own face in the image of you and Bakugou in the diner.

It's so ridiculous, you tell yourself over and over again, because it is, but she's known him all of seven minutes and already she's calling him by his name. You attempt to remind yourself that the seven months it had taken you were all by choice, but then Yukiko laughs when he insists his entire hero moniker be in the magazine and you’re pouting.

It's nine in the morning and you are drinking a milkshake at the counter, far out of the way of the camera, far out of the way of Dynamight and his little bubble.

Last night, as you were scrutinizing the directions to the diner fervently, you'd thought of a few different ways this day might go; feeling pitiful and drowning yourself in milk and ice cream was not a scenario you had considered.

Yukiko starts by asking him questions about the area, if he's familiar with it at all, and this dissolves into a small discussion about where he was born—Atami, near the sea (a fact you were unaware of)—though he moved to Musutafu when he was very young, due in part to his father's career.

Of course, nothing is as easy as your boss up and giving this information away; the representative is already beginning to look a little flustered at the thirty minutes it takes in order to obtain that much.

(An image is born into your imagination of baby Bakugou, diapered Dynamight, in tiny swim trunks by the ocean with a little, chubby tummy. It earns you a sharp glance when you laugh quietly at it, ruby eyes narrowed as if he knows.)

"I'll go where I'm needed." Is what he spits out, arms crossed, when Yukiko asks if he plans to stay in Musutafu for the rest of his life. The question takes a slight turn towards plans for a family and if he'll raise any children here, but his stubborn silence is enough of an answer.

That certainly wasn't an approved subject.

Another surge of guilt rises at how awkward he looks, more than uncomfortable with his shoulders up around his ears. You think he’d rather be at home, catching up on some rest—he surely deserves it—and the pit in your stomach deepens until she brings up the topic of that one day, with the sludge villain, and you think maybe not, afterall. Maybe he likes it this way, so far from the child he once was, so much stronger and different.

"I’m not worried about shit from way back then," he grunts, leaning a little further back in the booth, grasping for distance. "Thought you were supposed to be asking me about the present, how much 'm dominating the hero board right now."

Yukiko laughs—musical, pleasant, rehearsed—but Bakugou isn't joking. She spares the cameraman another look, something she's been doing frequently, and you assume it's an indication on where they'll need to cut certain footage.

One of the crewmen holding the lights pins you with an expectant look, as if you should perhaps be sheepish for his gruffness, but you just send the man a simple smile. You're not his handler; if Bakugou wants his own milkshake, you'll get him one, but you aren't here to school him on how to act, nor to ask for forgiveness either.

It makes you wonder if you've grown used to it all, being so close to the warmth of him. Nothing that he's said so far has taken you off guard or made you flinch, and you've even found yourself surprised at the look on the representative's face when her sculpted mask cracks. Maybe he's calloused you, gotten you used to the heat in which he constantly burns.

Something about that is comforting.

"It's almost intimidating, how fierce you are against competition, even when that competition is made up of heroes you graduated with—"

"My assist rate is nearly triple what it was last year."

"Hey," it’s not difficult to tell where she was going with her question and you definitely should not be hissing at him, but you can't help yourself. He looks at you almost instantly. "Stop interrupting."

The scowl he sends burns your face as if he'd touched it with his own hands, but he only grumbles to himself before turning his attention back to Yukiko. You may not apologize for him, but you'll definitely encourage him to mind his manners. Whatever surprise you think you might have seen on Yukiko's face is gone when you look at her, and she nods once in thanks.

If you let him walk all over you, he will, and you wonder if you should have warned her of that earlier. It's not like he means to, but he has the kind of innate confidence most people don't and sometimes it manifests as arrogance, but they should have known that, surely? Bakugou commands the attention of everyone when he steps into the room because his presence is massive, authoritative, the kind that villains cower in.

The kind that says I am here.

(or, I am here, you fucking bastard.)

"Does it ever bother you to hear that you are being likened to heroes like Endeavor or Snipe? The kind of men that leave certain people divided when it comes to their approach to heroism?"

“I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks. They shouldn’t be comparin’ me in the first place.” Bakugou tightens his arms around his chest (you’re thankful he’s wearing a long-sleeve shirt, though it only masks the tension in his biceps in the most minute way) and casts you a quick glance, anticipating your reaction to what he says next. “You worry about the crap people say about you?”

Yukiko sits back a little in her seat and smiles—practiced, restrained—before clearing her throat. She doesn’t answer, only asks, "Does it ever bother you to be compared to Deku, who is projected to be the next Symbol of Peace?"

The diner goes so silent that everyone can hear Yukiko's jewelry clink as she shifts. So silent that everyone can hear you choke on your milkshake (you aren't spared a glance, though, because you are still outside the bubble).

All you can think is that if Bakugou was going to blow the place to hell, he would have done so by now. At a different time in his life, you assume he might have gone berserk and shit talked Deku until people were having to hold him down in the booth—but now he just stares across the table, thinking.

The representative seems unable to look away and shudders; you're glad you can't see the exact expression on his face, though one you have seen comes to mind: in the bright lights of the conference room, footage you shouldn’t have been privy to still casting a faded picture on the wall, an unpleasant, clammy hand on your lower back. The memory heats you, almost the same way it had that day, though it’s less embarrassed now and more fond as you take in the jut of his chin, the line of his sharp nose in the downcast morning light.

("My hero!")

"I ain't gonna talk about that damn Deku."

Even if she wanted more from him, even if she meant to rile him up for some kind of sales-boosting answer, Yukiko only nods and takes a long pause before turning to the cameraman. Her beaming smile is wavering the tiniest bit—something obvious to you because you’ve been obsessing over her this entire time. "Quick break?"

Bakugou is up and out of the booth, stalking towards the door before her face has time to flatten, and you take that as your cue. The sky is still the same dismal shade, even though you've been at the interview for nearly an hour, and it dampens one of the sunny scenarios you'd imagined for today.

The warpath doesn’t end once he’s outside, nearly ripping the car door off its hinges so he can climb in and slam it shut behind him. The silence is so tense that you try your best to follow quietly, closing your door gently just in case it will reignite him somehow. Bakugou doesn't say anything, just throws his head back against the seat and tries in earnest to glare a hole through the ceiling of the car.

You go through a number of different ways to ask if he’s alright (“are you okay?” or “you good, man?” or “is there anything I can do, sir?”) but you can already tell that all of them would just be met with grunted, ‘m fine. So you try to approach him a different way, the kind of way you would a friend that was upset, saying weightless things just to steal their mind from anything stressful.

“I didn’t know you were born in Atami.” Rain starts to lightly fall against the SUV. “That sounds nice—do you ever go back there?”

“You askin’ questions now too?” Bakugou shoots, but it leads without malice, without bite as he keeps his eyes fixed.

Turning your head to watch the rain, you murmur out a quiet “sorry”, pressing your lips together to stop them from betraying you by frowning. He’s upset, and you would be too; constantly shadowed by other heroes, even when the topic of Dynamight only—Bakugou himself—is assured; triggers written down, buttons pressed, waiting just outside the blast zone for a response that will provoke the stereotypical headlines that readers go berserk for. It’s not his fault. At the sound of your voice, his hair shifts against the headrest as he turns to look at you, quick, before sighing.

“We used to go a lot during the summer, but I haven’t been back in years.” His voice is mild, extinguished for the moment. “Don’t have the time.”

“We should go,” you say it urgently, without thinking, trying to cling to something that will lighten the mood. “In the summer when it’s nice. If we plan it out right, we can maybe write it off as a work thing.” The grin on your face is probably embarrassing, but you wiggle your eyebrows playfully.

Bakugou huffs out a laugh, unsmiling, before his own brows pull down as the words, and their meaning, settle in his ears. “Doesn’t hafta’ be a work thing.”

Neither of you have spoken about what happened that day. Neither of you have spoken about what would have happened if Kirishima hadn’t shown up.

For a nerve-wracking, paralyzing moment, as your sweaty toes begin to curl in their boots, it almost looks like he’s going to.

“Look, I don't know—fuck—this is so fucking—” Bakugou’s hands go to the steering wheel and he grips it, the leather making an audible noise as his fingers tighten. He refuses to face you—mouth slightly open, surprised even though you thought you wouldn’t be—and instead glares forward at the diner, as if it’s somehow Yukiko’s fault neither of you know how to talk about this, about It.

After a moment of prolonged silence, you swallow thickly and realize he isn’t continuing because Yukiko is, in fact, standing in the window, waving the both of you back inside. When you nod at her, she crosses her arms but walks away, and Bakugou sighs.

“I’m sorry.” It blurts out before it can be stopped. A little bit of anger is left in his eyes and he directs it straight at you. “I’m sorry you have to come here on your day off and do this thing that you can't stand.”

He’s certainly tired of hearing your guilt about this, that much you’re sure of, but the expression that washes over him still surprises you; completely unhappy, even more so by what you’ve said, and almost—hurt that you keep apologizing.

“You’re so—” with a grunt, he squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, clearing it, before glaring at you. No, not glaring, not quite. Something softer. “You think I’m the kinda guy that does shit he doesn’t want to, idiot?”

“Bakugou, you hate this kind of stuff,” it sounds like you’re asking for absolution and it only makes things worse.

Bakugou just shakes his head again as if you aren’t understanding what he’s saying. Maybe you aren’t.

—

11:12 A

The first thing Yukiko says when the interview finally concludes is, “the company has already set up lunch at the arena, if we could all make our way there!”

And the first thing Bakugou says in response to this is, “as fucking if.”

But by this point, after struggling for two hours with him, she must be hardening up to his bark and bite, because she doesn’t say anything or try to stop him as he beelines for the exit. Which leaves you scrambling behind him, giving a half-bow to every disgruntled person you pass while muttering, “thank you, thank you so much, we had a great time, can’t wait to see the article”.

It’s finally stopped raining, but the sun is still hidden behind a wintery haze; there’s a chill inside his car, the kind that settles in unoccupied spaces (the kind that exists when Bakugou isn’t around). It seems to calm down your boss instantly—that, and the fact that all the questions are finally done.

“That wasn’t so bad!"

Near the end, Yukiko asked if Bakugou had any other plans for his future, if being a hero didn't work out somehow, and he looked between you and her, and then her and the camera, and then you and then her and then you and—

Then he said, "What kind of stupid fucking question is that?"

He's giving you that same look right now (bewildered, disbelieving, hassled). Still, you try to charm the expression off his face by smiling and telling him,

"You did great Bakugou, I'm proud of you!" It earns you a soft snort and relaxed, avoidant eyes. "Now, to the arena!"

"'m not eatin' at that place. Who knows what type'a tasteless shit they catered." He’s quick to catch you taking out your phone and snatches it away before you can unlock it. "I know where 'm going, I don't need you trying to kill us again."

An exaggerated pout works its way to your lips. "Aw, come on Bakugou, don't you trust me?"

He huffs but the use of his name doesn’t deter him, "I'm not gettin' a traffic ticket just because you've got your head up your ass."

Though you loathe to admit it, sighing comes easier now that the SUV is putting miles of distance between you and Yukiko. You're feeling a little more playful again, like the day is falling back into its usual routine, gearing up for one of the many scenarios you've imagined. The image of her figure in the pantsuit is still at the forefront of your mind, however, so you shuffle around until you can wiggle out of your puffy jacket. What you’re wearing isn’t anything as fashionable as her no-doubt expensive ensemble, but at least you’re less of a shapeless blob.

"I'll be good this time, promise." Impishly, you extend your pinky out towards him but he only grunts in response, shifting forward in his seat as he swallows—audibly. The movement allows his collarbones to peek out above the top of his shirt, growing your unfounded need to drag your fingers along them, maybe even your breath, maybe even your mouth.

The threat he mumbles goes unheard by you, but the baritone of his voice stops you from drooling like a pervert any longer.

Even he looks a bit more calm—jaw unclenched, shoulders back and rested, nostrils unflared—and his hand goes from the wheel to the gear shift between you. Long fingers cup it loosely, drumming against it as an afterthought, though the music he once had playing has been turned down low; on the ride over, you’d passed a towering, verdant dragon statue that could be seen from the highway and promptly squealed about it, reaching to tap his shoulder with urgency. The radio had quieted, his attention momentarily snapping to you before muttering “‘m driving,”.

Watching him now, Bakugou’s face relaxes further—the permanent crease between his eyebrows softens—and you wonder if he feels it, too, this effortless comfort that shrouds you.

From what you can tell, he's heading back towards Musutafu and it's only after about 20 minutes that you begin to genuinely wonder if he's decided to blow the whole day off, if he's sick of the questions and antagonizing, if he's speeding back to your icy parking lot to be rid of you—but then he's taking an exit, grumbling about slow drivers and old people, and turning down a street that definitely isn't yours.

It's a part of the outer city-skirts that you aren't all too familiar with, where the buildings are set too close together and the parking lots are too small, fitting six cars at most. Apartments look over thin alleys, fire escapes nearly creating a bridge between bedrooms. You pass a man sleeping next to the garbage, a family of stray cats, a blue rolling cart holding brown plants, a woman selling homemade crepes—everything about the area is intimate, and that realization has your stomach flipping.

Lunch with your boss, with Bakugou, for the second time; you find yourself both anxious and willing, for whatever comes next.

Bakugou circles a block twice before parking in a stray lot, grunting something about anyone daring to say shit to him while tucking the side mirrors of his car closer to the windows. No explanation is offered as to where the two of you are eating, but you don't miss the quick glance he gives your top, which makes you feel suddenly exposed and silly, as if he could read what you were thinking when you tossed your jacket to his backseat. There is a strange crease in the fabric near your tummy due to the seatbelt, and you throw it off and yourself out of the car so that he'll stop looking.

Before you can ask where he's going, he's turning down a thin alley ahead of you. It's nearly noon, but the day is so overcast, white-golden lanterns are still lit to guide the way past an izakaya that’s closed, a gentleman outside stacking empty Kirin cases on top of one another. There are two abandoned bikes, a sign leaning against a rusty ladder that advertises a shop for refurbished furniture and hand-stitched clothes. You can’t take a step without landing on a manhole, but the sewage smell is nearly drowned out by the fresh crepes—and something salty, too.

It's silent between the two of you, save for the rustling of a beaded curtain strung up in the middle of the alley as you pass through it. Bakugou holds it open for you to step under and then keeps a hand on your back, urging you forward, though you have no idea where.

Electrical wires criss-cross into a spider-web above your head, a strange sense of seclusion emanating from their disjointed design; other than the gentleman, you are the only two between the bricks. It feels like you are the only two in the world—far from Musutafu, far from Dynamight and Yukiko. Just you and Bakugou.

When you glance back up at him, he’s already watching you—as he always seems to be, these days—and his eyes are nearly orange in the lantern light, made up of something so entirely different than they had been in the diner.

"Kirishima Eijirou was your fellow classmate, is the co-owner of your agency, and has been a Pro Hero Partner of yours for sometime." Yukiko seemed to have a talent for not only segueing into question after question, but also wording them in a way that stoked Bakugou’s aggravation. "Would you say you have a hard time trusting other heroes, or even getting along with them?"

It's no secret that Dynamight has been controversial in the past, that people still look at him and see the wild beast of a child he once was, and though there is nothing you can do about it, it still gets under your skin to see him and his intricacies boiled down to misconceptions. Patience, understanding, you wanted to tell Yukiko, that’s all you need, though you can’t exactly imagine Bakugou would have appreciated you coming to his defense. More than likely, he would have protested you getting involved or making excuses: that much you know already, because you’re used to him.

You wonder if Yukiko, or anyone, would believe the way Dynamight—the explosion hero, number 5 on the hero board—looks in fond, untroubled moments like this one (half-lidded, citrine, peaceful).

Perhaps the only thing that can be done is be thankful, that they are reserved for you.

"Move it, dumbass," he murmurs, and the soft rasp of his voice makes you smile, draws his eyes—unashamed—to your lips.

(You want to tell him to finish it, what he started that day in his office. You want to tell him to kiss you.)

(You don't.)

There is a white neon sign that is lit up just ahead, though there isn't a name, only gyudon in black. It's the source of the salty smell and, when Bakugou reaches in front of you to shove the creaky door open, no one bats an eye at either of you. No one looks up as he comes in and no one says anything until he's chosen a booth at the back, near a large window that looks out into another cramped section of a street.

Winter peonies are hanging from a window box, blushing pink against the gray painted bricks of its apartment. You can see a stray shopping cart from a market out of sight, a handful of brightly colored signs (red, orange, black) advertising all manner of baked goods and beer, ready for the day to darken just a little more before coming to life. A woman carries her baby down a flight of stairs; a stack of books on the ground appear heavy, water-logged and forgotten near three tied trash bags; two boys in university sweaters take turns looking through a magazine, a half naked woman splayed across the cover.

(Just you and Bakugou.)

An older woman comes to the table offering water and tea, though she doesn't ask if or what type either of you would like before the clay pot in her hand thuds onto the wood. She leaves while muttering, “try the Jasmine Pearl”; your boss looks so unbothered by this, by her, that you come to the conclusion he must have come here before, maybe many times.

And maybe Bakugou knows you, too, because he says, “The owner’s kid almost died in a train crash a few years back, before I was—” he trails off while gesturing to himself sarcastically, but you know what he means: before he was Dynamight. It’s all said without looking at you, eyes on the flowers, the books, snorting when he sees the magazine. “I wasn’t looking for anything in return, that ain’t the point of this shit, but the old hag wouldn’t leave me alone until I ate at her place. Food's decent.”

A grin works its way onto your face, earning a glance from the corner of his eye. “So, you took me out for a free meal, huh? Cheap date.”

Bakugou’s eyes zero in on you as a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips, and you realize too late where you've gone horribly wrong. "Date?" He asks, hands clasping together atop the table as he leans across it, closer to you, "Who said this was a date?"

Now it's your turn to look elsewhere: the ceiling, the teapot, the signs (red, orange, black). "Well, um, lunch date, as in, just having lunch together. Like—you know, between colleagues, sir."

"Colleagues, huh?" The curl of his lips is sinister, too-sharp, has tea slipping down the wrong pipe in your throat and heating your entire body to a similar, boiling temperature. Some jealous part of you sings; Yukiko witnessed quite a few looks from your boss today, but she hadn't been graced with this one. "'s'that why you got all pouty about whatshername?"

Pouty?

"Pouty?" You gasp, jaw falling slack as your hands curl into fists on the table. It's as if he can see right through you, can read what you're thinking, as if you’re not the only one paying too much attention in all this time at the agency. "I was not pouty."

(You definitely were and you know it, which makes the accusation all the more worse.)

"Sure thing, sweetheart," he smirks, gently flicking one of your knuckles as you narrow your eyes at him. "Never seen you give me that look before."

You pause in the middle of sipping your water to stick your tongue out at him, unable to stop from grinning when he snickers. Amusement is an unseen string tying you together; it's impossible not to smile when he does.

He continues, though you aren't sure where he's leading the conversation, eyes flicking to the door, out the window, at his fingers brushing yours. If you didn't know any better you would say he almost looks— "and you've given me plenty in the last eight months."

Looks, he means, and it takes a moment to recover. Plenty of looks? No, if anyone is giving looks, it's him, not you. It's Bakugou with those eyes, orange and fox-like, watching you squirm like he's caught you in his trap, ripe for the taking.

(That analogy does little to settle your still flipping stomach.)

"What do you mean by that?"

It's a talent, how quickly his eyes can change, how they can go from desirous to unreadable in an instant. A part of you wonders if that's all Dynamight, a skill he's acquired since being forced into the public eye—but a part of you believes that's him, Bakugou, too accustomed to shielding his emotions.

"I mean they aren't the kind y'give a colleague."

An air duct rattles brokenly; birds land near the window; a group of school girls laugh without regard, standing together to peer at something on a phone (too close, you and Bakugou, anxious and willing, for whatever comes next).

"And what do they look like?" There are warning sirens going off in your head, vigilant in their duty to remind you of the line you’re knowingly crossing. Regardless, you unwind your fist, curl a finger around his. "Why don't you show me?"

Bakugou's eyebrows draw down, making him look pinched and offended—though you're used to that look, to him, and you know that's not how he really feels—and then the two of you are in the car outside the diner all over again, ready to talk about It.

But a shadow comes over the window, two palms flattening against the glass as the birds—and your intertwined fingers—scatter. It's the shadow of a man too large, too friendly, too red.

"You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me."

"Red Riot!" The sight of him is so unexpected that the grin that paints you is entirely genuine, and you wave at him, laughing too loud for this compact, secret place when he presses his nose up against the glass. He waves back at you, then Bakugou, before dashing around the corner.

The door kicks open so fast that it bounces off the wall, jingling all the while, and that does earn Kirishima a few glares, which he meets with a sheepish wave. When his eyes land on you in the back corner, an expression so utterly smug and satisfied comes across his face that Bakugou lets out an incensed sound, signaling his impending implosion.

"Well, well, well, what do we have—"

"What. The fuck. Are you doing here." It sounds less like a question and more like a demand, as if Bakugou isn't really worried about the how or the why; he just wants Kirishima to answer so the response will stoke the fire currently flaring to life.

"I could ask you the same thing." Red Riot beams, trying to squeeze into the booth beside his partner, though the blonde doesn't budge. He almost looks like a feral cat, arching his back the closer his colleague gets. "C'mon man, this is the spot, we eat here all the time."

"Oh, do you?" At the sound of your question, Kirishima flashes you a knowing grin, though you aren’t sure what he’s so certain of: that Dynamight would bring you to this pace, or that he’d been jumpy about it. Bakugou’s neck turns the color of his eyes—which are far from orange and back to their usual blood-red hue.

The realization that he’s brought you here, to the spot, softens you considerably; allowing you into this cramped little space, behind a beaded curtain, across from a dingy apartment complex twenty minutes out of town, nestled into a web of privacy. It means something to him and Kirishima, which means something to you.

At the sight of him now, there in front of you, you're reminded of your previous conversation with the red head, how you'd argued that they didn't need your friendship, had never asked for it—and they still haven't, just placed you inside the bubble quietly, tenderly, without so much as a second thought.

"Kirishima," Bakugou grits out, and the sound of his actual name and not Shitty Hair surprises you (and the man in question), "you're supposed to be on patrol."

"I am!" Red Riot's voice goes up a defensive octave, holding out his arms and gesturing to his hero outfit. The look he sends you resembles one Dynamight had in the diner—like he doesn’t understand the charge against him—and your heart tightens without warning; they’ve been together so long, Pro Hero Partners for some time, and it shows in the finer details.

"Then why the fuck. Are you—"

"I was in the area, man, thought I'd scope this place out before lunch. Then I saw you two," he grins again, which is always the worst thing he could do in this situation, "and thought I would check on how things are going, you know, between you lovebirds—"

"Don't even—this is just a stupid fucking work thing." The finger he points is menacing; you're surprised he's not sparking. "Don't fucking say shit like that."

(And then your bubble pops.)

Bakugou is downright snarling, less like a hungry fox or feral cat and more like a rabid dog, and you can't stop the embarrassment flooding you as it comes crashing down that this abrupt change of pace is simply because Kirishima thought you two were on a—

—date—

—together as anything other than colleagues.

An instinctive voice inside your head pipes up to defend him from, well, yourself, that he's only being so vehement in his denial because he's embarrassed at falling prey to his partner’s teasing, but the immediate part of you, the emotional part, bites her lip to stop from frowning. You do the opposite—smile casually—though you can feel how forced it must be, like it doesn't fit on the curve of your lips in the moment. It must be obvious, you think, it must be.

"It's a work thing," you echo, nodding once (and you don't miss the hot look Dynamight slices you with).

Doesn't matter; Kirishima laughs slowly and winks, as if the three of you are all in on some secret joke, as if he knows Bakugou too well. "Of course, definitely! Work thing. I'll make sure to mention that to Mina later when I—"

"You aren't gonna say shit about this, unless you want me to tear you a new one." Bakugou's eyes widen a frightening amount, palm slapping against the table as he nearly upends it. Kirishima remains unphased and it makes you think of Yukiko again, of how indifferent you were to some of his answers.

(“In the past, it’s taken more than a little elbow grease to obtain an interview with you, despite being a household name. Do you find you struggle with the newfound fame of being such a public, top-ten hero? I don’t think it’s a secret that Dynamight likes his privacy.”

“I don’t have time for shit like this because I’m busy doing my job. I don’t know what else anyone wants from me, why they care how long I spend at the gym or what my beer of choice is. I save the fucking day and then I go home, what I do there isn’t their business.”

“...so you do struggle with being in the spotlight so frequently?”

“I don’t struggle with anything, because I ain't the one that’s bothered!”

Yukiko had, in fact, looked bothered, especially when you snorted and rolled your eyes at him, especially when he peered back to make an exasperated face at you, shaking his head like he didn’t understand how he wasn’t making sense.)

And that hurts, you can't lie, with how mortified your boss is at the prospect of anyone knowing you two are together, even during a work thing. It's ridiculous, but you have to blink once, and then twice suddenly, because you can't stop thinking about the up-and-down look he gave Yukiko, how well put together she seemed.

It's not as if you are neurotic enough to believe it was love at first sight, or that he's even minimally interested in her—by the end of morning, actually, you were almost certain he wouldn't have offered her a glass of water were she to spontaneously combust—but she was so chic and elegant. She probably knew 6 different languages and drove a car priced in the same range as his SUV, she had innate charm and structure, business aptitude, she was wildly impressive.

If even she couldn't entice him, then who could?

It's ridiculous. You're being ridiculous because he's your boss.

Before you're forced to try and interrupt the unhinged hissing going back and forth between your employers, the older woman returns and quiets both of them with a single look. Kirishima gives a shy smile and steps out of the way, far out of her way, and Bakugou sits back down, muttering out to her that yes, he would like two bowls of gyudon with kimchi (like always). There’s a story here, maybe many; suddenly bitter, you wonder if you could ever be authorized to hear them.

(You haven't even had time to think about what you want, but there's a yellowed, dimly lit menu on the wall and your eyes catch on chicken curry, so you repeat that and she's off again.)

The first thing Bakugou says to his partner then is, "would you get. The hell. Out of here."

(Again—it's not so much a question.)

"Alright, alright, I can take a hint—" (Dynamight growls his disagreement) "—don't wanna interrupt you two like last time, so feel free to start the smooching once—"

Kirishima cracks up when Bakugou shoots from the table, though a flash of something like panic smears out his smile. Even when he puts his hands up and starts backing towards the door, babbling all the while, your boss doesn't stop following him, palms curled the way they are when he's gonna blow something straight to hell, and he doesn't refrain from advancing until Kirishima is bumping into the door, scrambling to get it open.

And he still doesn't stop until they are both back out in the alley, for a long time.

The food arrives, the woman looking at you for the first time as she asks, "he ditch you?" When you tell her he hasn't—that you know of; maybe he did?—she mutters, "little punk" before stalking away. You wish she would have stayed to hear you agree, but you dig into the food to stop the pit deepening in your stomach.

Quietly, you go to war with yourself, arguing that it was Bakugou who had his hand on your neck and it was Bakugou with his eyes on your lips and it was your boss who insisted you call him Bakugou.

And it was Bakugou who was embarrassed by this, by you and your stupid little work thing.

You miss the jingle of the door when he returns, only offering your attention as he slumps back into the booth, red-faced. He doesn’t acknowledge you, only splits his chopsticks and stares at the still simmering bowls of food while holding his breath, before tossing the utensils on the table, wood clattering lowly as he shoves his fingers in his eyes. They dig forcefully into the muscles, as if he’s trying to stop a headache that won’t quit.

“Everything okay, sir?”

He looks stressed, more-than; another wave of guilt wracks you, though it’s hard to determine where it’s building from this time. The truth is out: he does hate this bullshit ass type of thing, and you wonder why he tried to insist he doesn’t; he should know that you know by now.

Bakugou's hand drops from his eyes to his mouth, where he pulls at his lips absentmindedly. Underneath the table, his knee won't stop jerking, just like how the fingers on his other hand won't stop drumming against the table; he's thinking, too hard.

If life were a scenario of your brain’s creation, you think he would lean across the table and take your hand fully, but instead he just kicks you lightly to get your attention. It’s so on brand for him, so Bakugou, that you realize instantly where your imagination was wrong and dare to smile, tucking your chin down to hide it.

Your boss is not smiling. "You—he's a fucking—" his struggle is almost painful, and you can feel the tug and pull of the words he wants to say and the words that are leaving his mouth. "Y’know what I meant, right?"

And it's not so much a question as it is a plea.

—

12:24 P

Yukiko calls three times before Bakugou digs into his second bowl.

The first two attempts go ignored, mainly due to the horrendous glare he gives both the phone and your hand, frozen mid-air, before he snatches it from you during the third call. He doesn't even bother with a greeting, just grunts "yeah, yeah, we're comin'," and then proceeds to eat faster than you've ever seen a human eat anything.

Some inane side of you has half a mind to bring your chopsticks together near your mouth and ask, "How many calories do you consume in a single day, Dynamight? Fans everywhere want to know," but things are still intensely awkward, made even worse now that you’re pressed for time, so you store that little funny away for later.

Later; all of your exciting scenarios have washed away with the returning rain and you'd like nothing more than to go back to the office, to return to the space with Bakugou, with Dynamight, that you know best. The ground is too unstable, shaking as easily as your breath every time he meets your eyes. It's a lot to handle, more than you expected, and that—like all things, these days—only brings back the guilt.

The entire drive back is quiet, save for a few vexed sighs, and he listens to the navigation guide in his car as you pick mindlessly at your cuticles; it feels like something's been ruined, and the silence makes you sadder than you expected, puts something in your throat that’s hard to swallow.

Sports Illustrated has rented out a stadium, one that's equipped to deal with any stray explosions that could bring about the savage cover shot they're looking for. It has a sleek and shiny gym, one prepared for an entire rugby team—which may or may not equal Bakugou and his immense presence—, a locker room, and even a small conference area that's been set up to look like a U.A classroom.

("Thought this was supposed to be about me now, not back then."

"It is," you said, standing in his office, reading from the itinerary Yukiko had forwarded. "How different you are.")

Freshly powdered and matte, she's waiting just inside the doors, looking appropriately in place against the gray-slate tiles and smile-white walls. "Welcome back to high school!"

Ahead of you, Bakugou grumbles, "fucking great."

"The makeup trailer is just down in the hall, so we can head that way! We'll start with the gym first, and then move to the 'classroom'." Just as you begin to follow him, she produces a lanyard with a plain white badge reading visitor and extends it out to you. "Just in case anyone says anything." She assures, back to beaming.

Bakugou rears his head as if she's attempted to slap him. "Who's sayin' something? She's with me."

"Oh, no, no!" Yukiko waves her hands urgently, trying to put out the fire before it starts. "Just in case!"

"Just in case what—"

"It's fine." You say, Miss Customer Service™, "I get it, it's fine." Bakugou is frowning when you look up at him, though you slip the cord over your head and flash him your best reassuring smile. Yukiko is given a warning glance, one that says this isn’t over with just his eyes before he’s stalking away.

You hope she’s not able to read that look.

It looks strange so empty, the arena, and your brain likens it to a carcass: the walls feel hollow and massive, the concrete echoing back every noise you tentatively make; you’re afraid to think too hard in case that, too, will reverberate. It’s entire design was born with thousands of people in mind, but it is just you three under a never-ending stream of LED screens, banners of sports teams COMING SOON!, closed coiling doors, blocking the advertisement of takoyaki, yakisoba and cold beer, syrupy kakigori. Bakugou eyes the portraits lining the walls, black and white candid shots of fans cheering wildly, and you don’t realize he’s slowing down until he’s right beside you.

Very vaguely, you remember the U.A Sports Festival, maybe had it on as background noise at a friend's house while chatting amongst yourselves, oblivious and uncaring to the quirk-blessed people that were using their talents to the fullest. It dawns on you how strange it is to be here, beside Bakugou, how far both of you have come. Any clear images from the three festivals he had been in are all recent, only replayed on your laptop after he'd become a household name, after he became your boss, after he started meaning something.

In an eight minute video you'd watched titled dynamight being dynamight, you remember his sixteen-year-old self standing at the microphone, saying something about winning that made every one of his peers furious, and it's just so him that you're forced to throw an elbow, smile and shake your head when he asks what your deal is

Hands shoved into the pockets of his loose, dark jeans, he elbows you back lightly. "Don't fuckin' laugh at me."

"Don't be so funny."

"Don't be so easy to amuse."

"Don't be such a child."

"Me?" The look he gives you is bewildered, though the rigidness of his eyes has melted. Muttering another threat under his breath, he leans against your arm like he's going to push you again, but he doesn't, he just stays. One of his hands comes out to gently flick the plastic badge, making a face at it like its very existence is an insult, and he looks away when it lands back against your chest, when you snort at his impudence.

"Nobody will question you," Yukiko affirms, smiling softly when you both glance back. You’d almost forgotten about her, embarrassingly enough, and she looks between you two and the lanyard before rolling her eyes, waving her hand like the idea of it is silly—even if she’d been the one to produce it. "Trust me."

The expression on her face reminds you so frighteningly of Kirishima’s, like she knows something you don't, and it only winds you up even further as Bakugou is ushered away into another exclusive bubble. Her heels click pleasantly against the concrete, between just the two of you, leading the way through a small twist of tunnels impossible to navigate without her. The floral scent of her perfume is intoxicating, filling up every cramped area she enters, and you’re ashamed that you can’t stop inhaling through your nose.

"It's nice to finally meet you," she says suddenly and offense is a reflex that rips through you, wanting to remind her that you two met hours ago, but you become distracted by the texture of her skin, more obvious now that she’s so close to you. How human; gorgeous, stunning, daunting—but perhaps not as high on the pedestal as you had placed her. "We've been emailing for a few months now."

"Oh," you blink, dumbfounded, "yeah, I guess we have."

"I meant what I said,” Yukiko stops and holds her hand out, letting you go ahead of her in the direction she's leading you. "It's easier to outrun Ingenium than it is to get an interview with Dynamight, so we have you to thank for setting this up."

"Oh," you parrot, then, quickly, before she thinks it's all you know how to say, "no, I mean, I was just as surprised that he agreed. Dynamight, uh—" she laughs at the sheepish smile you give her, "he hates these things."

"Does he? I couldn't tell." She makes such a cute face that you might have been jealous if you weren't laughing with her. It's less awkward than you might have expected it to be hours ago, less forced, and a feminist, eat-the-patriarchy side of you is immensely disappointed in yourself. "Well, we, the company, are blessed he has you to influence him."

Another dumb blink; you make a disbelieving face to yourself before looking down at your fingers. "I wouldn't say I influence him, maybe know how to wear him down, but,” you trail off as she laughs again, shrugging.

Of course you do, know exactly how to bother him, how to bug him and push every button that will set him alight; you almost want to tell her it’s in your job description to understand exactly how to get away with harassing Dynamight—and keeping your head.

Yukiko leans against your shoulder with the same sentiment Bakugou had, though you can feel the stark differences between her arm and his. “I think he’s lucky to have someone that understands him to such an extent. It’s very rare to have assistants that can accept people as they are, behind their hero persona. I'm sure you might be aware of that, though, working with others in the business.”

Around the corner is a set of large glass doors that she steps up to open, once again gesturing for you to enter, and you want to tell her to back-up, to rewind a minute or two. The gym is just as you imagined: spacious, set up for industrial sized workouts, stock full of equipment and weights that look as if they could snap your back in half, were you unable to work with them properly. The fluorescence—and the light boxes and white sheets and reflective umbrellas—confound you long enough that Yukiko whisks away further into the room, up to the cameramen from the diner and a new gentleman, one you easily conclude will be the photographer for the day.

By the time you regain your composure—and close your mouth—Bakugou is entering, cementing you to your spot, withdrawn from the attention behind a treadmill that sits taller than your head. Nerves begin to take flight in your stomach at the sight of him; upon first glance, he doesn’t seem any different than usual, handsome as ever, but then you notice how dark and long his eyelashes look, the light contour under his cheekbones erasing what little roundness there is to his rarely-seen stoic face. He looks all Dynamight: sharp angles and jutting edges, dangerously keen, ineffable.

With all the attentiveness of an enlisted serviceman, he scans each corner of the room until he lands on you, small and out of the way, and you give him a small wave (one he doesn’t return). It looks like he’s got something to say, something serious, something important, judging by the sincere expression on his face. It’s tired, worn-down, though not in the way you imagine it is when he’s had a long day of hero-ing; it reminds you of the look on his face that day in his office, when the both of you had finally let go of whatever was keeping you back, when you’d finally crossed a boundary together.

It’s longing, you realize, that look.

“—so, I think it will be best to get a few warm up shots, maybe just doing some light stretching.”

Shamefully, you realize you’ve missed the photographer’s name and are somewhat relieved he hasn’t acknowledged you outside the bubble; the idea of having to ask him to repeat it makes you want to sink into the floor, to be dragged down by the weights the size of your head.

Bakugou jumps on his feet a few times—sporting a pair of bright orange kicks—before extending his arms to the ceiling, bending them behind his back, rotating his shoulders in some deliberate way that looks almost painful. Yukiko comes to stand beside you then, unnerving you with that look on her face, and she only grins before asking, loudly,

“He looks great, don’t you think?”

He glances back at you lazily, eyes—which have darkened—trained on your face, and you begin to realize that he does, he does look great.

He looks—immaculate.

The pair of compression tights he’s wearing only highlight how strong his thighs must be and his legs seem unending, long and powerful underneath the black fabric. A loose, orange tank is covering his torso and, though you hadn’t thought much of it at first, it becomes apparent to you why it seems so slack on him: in all the places it would hug the average man, Bakugou’s body is tight, muscular, rigid. His shoulders are capped and you can see the curve of his traps due to how thin the straps of his top are, the tension in his biceps as he just stands, relaxed.

Oh my god, you think, horrified. You’ll have to wait there for the next two hours—maybe three—watching as he builds up a sweat, as he works out and grunts with effort and pants and—

“Uh, y-yeah,” the attempt to clear your throat only makes you choke, has your voice coming out as a pathetic squeak, “he—you look, yeah, great.”

The hungry sheen that will gloss over his eyes; the curve of his cheek with the smirk that rattles your knees; the poorly disguised want in his voice as he teases and taunts your revealing choice of words; any minute now he’ll spark to life, sweetheart on his tongue, taking note of the sweaty palms you run across your thighs—

But it never comes.

Instead his eyebrows pull down in that Bakugou way, jaw and fist clenching in tandem as his breathing changes, deepens, giving you that same up-and-down look that bothered you earlier. Now that it’s directed at you and not Yukiko, however, it has a different meaning, riles you up in an eager, impure way. Nothing else is said as he turns towards the weight rack, but the muscle in his cheek doesn’t release and his leg doesn’t stop bouncing until the photographer is kneeling on the floor to get a shot of him curling a dumbbell.

The ceiling becomes extremely interesting then and you spend the camera flashes and the “ooooh, great shot, just like that,”’s admiring the tiles above everyone, all 27, 28, 29, 30 of them. There aren’t any cuticles left on either of your hands by the time Bakugou sniffs, drops the weights to the floor with a sound that demands your attention—unfortunately; the photographer, bless him, whatever his name is, gets a wonderful shot of your boss’s abs as he uses the bottom of the tank to wipe the perspiration above his lip, over his eyebrows, down his neck.

You’re sure there’s a great shot of the white-blonde trail of hair leading from his belly button down into his shorts, because that becomes all too visible, too.

Oh my god, you think, horrified.

Or you think, you think; you actually say it, feeling sweat pool in all the uncomfortable spots against your skin when you realize everyone is looking at you, everyone; Bakugou’s eyebrows are raised expectantly, waiting for you to continue as he works his jaw.

“I have your headphones,” you say idiotically, as if that warrants the carnal thoughts digging through your brain, swiveling your backpack to hang in front of you for emphasis. “I—can he—does he want them? Or—I mean, do you, sir?”

Yukiko frowns apologetically, “I’m sorry, that would be like product placement and only certain brands were approved for the shoot.”

His eyes—dark, deep and dark—bounce between the two of you before he shrugs, “whatever, s’fine.”

“‘kay!” Synapses momentarily defecting, you give him a thumbs-up, smiling so hard that it hurts, until he snorts and turns around to rack the barbell.

Once again, Yukiko leans into you, flowery and smiling, and when she winks, you’re astounded by the sharp turn this situation has suddenly taken. It feels like only minutes ago you and Bakugou were eating in tense silence, too self-conscious to even look up from the designs of your plate. It feels like only minutes ago he was glaring at the badge around your neck, averting his eyes from your chest, elbowing you.

It feels like only minutes ago Yukiko was implying you were intertwined with Bakugou in some way no one else was.

I think he’s lucky to have someone that understands him to such an extent.

Understands him? No, you can hardly say that you do, why he works 100 hours a week, why he comes to the office early and stays late, why he won’t call Deku back, why he doesn’t find the time to go to Atami anymore.

Why going with you doesn’t have to be a work thing, but this does.

You don’t understand why he wants you to call him Bakugou, or why he cares if you still want to go to Backdraft’s charity event, why he tells you not to take the late train or why he gets mad if you work through lunch. You don’t understand what the hell any of this is, why he knows the kind of looks you give him and leans against you and says things like, “she’s with me”.

But you think he might understand you, to some extent.

Since you’ve known him, he’s always been too clever for his own good, too perceptive; he knows why you’re being pouty about Yukiko, notices when you shuck your jacket off, he had the locks changed on Kirishima’s door, though you’d never spoken a word to him about the effort it took to get inside, Bakugou knows—in the dark, lights off, during a meeting—when some cop has their hands around your wrist or resting on your back.

And he must know what you’re thinking, then, here, now, because he’s sitting on the bench, sweating, chest heaving, looking at you like—

—like he’s had enough, like he’s fed up with all the back and forth, the tug and pull. The looks, dancing around It, Kirishima and his hero sense, his precise timing. And you think you’ve had enough, too. You think you're anxious and willing, for whatever comes next.

“Alright, we have some good shots in here. Back to the makeup trailer, and then we can revisit U.A!”

It’s all been undone wordlessly, the ties holding you back, the wall you’ve both tried to build, and Bakugou stalks by you, eyeing you like the fox he is, like you’re the mouse caught in his trap. Before he’s fully out into the hall, he’s already pulling the tank up and over the expanse of his back and you have to wonder if he’s doing it on purpose, because he knows; broader than you ever realized, embellished with pale scars, shoulders steady enough to hold the weight of Japan.

“Come on,” there’s a light hand at your elbow, manicured nails digging lightly into your sleeve as Yukiko tugs you from your trance. “I think you’ll enjoy the classroom set up.”

The corridors twist and turn again, your floral guide leading the way as she talks aimlessly about how many reps Bakugou can do—a secret she will keep to herself and away from the public, she promises with another wink. She’s kind and funny, easy to socialize with, good at making conversation; these recognitions are met with more compassion, more relief than jealousy.

As pointed as some of her questions may have seemed during the interview, it feels as if Bakugou is in good hands, that she won’t twist his words to make him out to be a jackass or a villain or someone the people shouldn’t look up to. All of her little glances to the cameraman; hopefully those footage cuts will be handled with care. You want to trust they will.

“He’s a natural, I’m surprised.” She comments, “He photographs very well.”

Not that you’ve spent any certain amount of time looking at Dynamight promo shots, but you’ve no reason to believe anything otherwise. “He’s beautiful, I think anyone would be hard pressed to get a bad photo from him.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you’re clapping a hand over it, trying belatedly to slap them back between your lips.

This little confession is met uneventfully, Yukiko only sparing you a glance at the sound before continuing down the concrete. She’s an angel, you realize, a god-send. “I suppose that’s a good point, Nakano has to spend at least 20 minutes with me in order to get a good headshot.” Another admission that makes her seem less superior. “It helps that he’s confident. Anyone would be, with a body like that.”

“Yeah,” you hum, noncommittal, eager to get as far away from this topic as possible.

The doors she opens are steel, painted white, and—though you’ve never been in a U.A classroom—it looks exactly as you would expect. Desks organized in four rows of five, cupboard at the back, a green sheet on the wall that Yukiko says will be edited to look like the field outside the school, a wide chalkboard that has DYNAMIGHT in an explosive font that’s meant to look hand-written.

(You want to tell Yukiko, and the others entering the room, that Bakugou has nice penmanship, better than what’s displayed on the board, if that’s meant to be “his”. It’s not any kind of cursive calligraphy, but his is neat, clean, professional.)

(Suddenly you want to tell Yukiko a few things, that Bakugou is confident, that he’ll walk all over you if you let him, but you want her to understand that he’s considerate, thoughtful in a way that the public could never comprehend. You want to tell her that he means well, that he tries in all the ways he knows how, that he asks questions that aren’t so much questions as they are pleas, you want her to understand he doesn’t do shit he doesn’t want to do.

You want to tell her that he’s made you accustomed to the heat in which he constantly burns, that his fingertips have left marks on the back of your neck, that he’s calloused you.)

And it must be written all over your face, these unsaid things that are bursting at your seams, because she smiles the same soft smile she had before you and Bakugou parted, like she understands, like she knows. A manicured hand squeezes your shoulder and then she’s exposing to you the purposeful look she gives the cameraman from the diner, a look so familiar, so pained and open you have to gasp. There’s a ring around his finger, you realize, but not around hers.

“Yukiko,—” you breathe, though there isn’t anything else that comes from you, there isn’t anything else you know how to say.

A sheen of tears fills her eyes as she shrugs, powdered mask never betraying her as she smiles complacently. “He looks great, don’t you think?”

This unspoken thing that has been laid out before you has you so shaken, so surprised that you don’t even realize she’s talking about Bakugou, that he’s arrived for class until she gestures to him with the hand that has led you here.

(He does, he does look great, you realize, he always looks great.)

They’ve dressed him in a school uniform, one that must be an oversized twin to whatever he wore in highschool—or was supposed to wear; already, he’s tugging so hard at the red tie around his neck, you fear he’ll yank his own head off.

An instinctive side of you, Miss Customer Service™, is meeting him in the middle of the classroom, waving his hands away so you can release him from his leash. “Stop thrashing,” you chide, receiving a grunt in response as he peers down at you. The starched shirt he’s wearing underneath his blazer is only buttoned up to the middle of his chest, giving you another view of his collarbones, of his clavicle, of the tendons in his throat.

When he swallows, his Adam’s apple absorbs your attention, hands halting in their movements as his own come down between you. You feel his fingers lightly brushing against your stomach, deftly working to undo the belt around his pants and all the blood in your veins stops—

—because what the fuck is he—

“Didn’t wear this stupid thing, either.” Bakugou mutters, eyes black in the studio lights surrounding you both. The clinking of the pin against the frame has you looking down, forehead just barely grazing the white-blonde hair lightly dusting his chest as he pulls the leather from around his waist in such a provocative fashion that you’re forced to—

You have to step away from him, the loose ends of his tie falling against his shirt as one of the desks digs into your back. It must look like he’s shoved you or startled you somehow, it must. Dynamight, your boss, Bakugou—he’s a sight, with his shirt half-open, tie undone, holding a belt in his hands as his pants sag down around his hips the way they always do, the way he prefers.

(It’s longing, you realize, that look.)

(It’s want.)

The photographer, Maybe-Named-Nakano—or is that the name of the diner cameraman?—steps in, a reminder that you two aren’t the only ones in the world, you and Bakugou, by instructing him to lean against the chalkboard lazily. Next to his name, which he insists ain’t really mine because it’s missing the “Lord” and “Explosion” and “Murder God”; just as you expected, just as you feared, his blood-lust gaze never leaves your face.

For some reason, you want to tell him about Yukiko, about what she’s shown you, about what she’s implied. The urge fills you so suddenly that you think you’ll explode if you don’t tell him right now, if you don’t grab him by the free collar of his shirt and shake him, meet the wistful eyes that have been ripping you to shreds all day, all week, for the past few months, longer than you can remember.

It feels like a warning somehow, this thing she has given you, that if the feeling inside you doesn’t find its way out of you and into him, you’ll be the assistant in the puffy coat, sitting off to the side, drinking a milkshake as Dynamight gets interviewed, as he twirls a silver ring on his finger because you didn’t have the fucking guts to just say—

“Fuck this,” Bakugou snaps, breathless, arms winding back to tear the gray blazer off. It makes you blink, this outburst, and you look at him as he looks at you, as he looks at Maybe-Nakano, at Yukiko, before tossing the jacket on the teacher’s desk in front of him. “I’m fuckin’ done,” he spits, already half-way out of the room.

Uh oh.

“Wait,” you call, though it’s too late, “You—I—,” instead, you just face all the raised eyebrows and the few fed up frowns (and those instantly put you on the offensive). “Sorry, I just—give me a minute! Be right back!” Miss Customer Service™ goes scrambling out into the hall, head whipping left and right as she tries to discern where her Hero(!) could have stormed off too. The only thing you see lingering in the carcass of the arena is the makeup trailer, though you hadn’t heard his feet on the steps or the slam of the door.

The berating doesn’t stop as you hurry across the lobby; what the hell is wrong with you? Clearly something has upset Bakugou, your boss, and you were too busy with your head up your ass to realize what’s ignited him. The day has been stressful enough for him, that much you managed to stay aware of, but somewhere in the costume change and makeup retouch, his mood has taken a downward spiral.

There are several jumbled apologies swirling around in your mouth as you bound up to the trailer, knocking once, then twice, before yanking open the door; if he’s that pissed, he wouldn’t have opened it for you anyway.

“Bakugou?” Empty; your voice bounces around the vacant space. It’s nothing particularly spectacular: a few vanities set up, one on the end near a sink in the event they need to wash or style his hair. The floor is carpeted and the lean-back chair looks comfortable, there’s a muted television in the ceiling corner playing videos from the Sports Illustrated YouTube channel.

God, you can’t imagine how you look, burdened by the emotional rollercoaster you can’t seem to dismount from. When you step up to the mirror, you see the bags under your eyes, not as well hidden by your concealer as you thought at 6 this morning, and only growing darker since then. However you’d attempted to style your hair is alright, not perfect, but it looks like you at least put some effort into it. All at once you are reminded of Yukiko, insecurity rising without your permission, but the shine in her professional eyes fights it off.

The door yanks open all too obviously, the same way he does his office door, his car door, and Bakugou stops on the steps as he stares at you.

Waiting, for you to say something, for him to say something, for either of you to crack.

“Hey,” you breathe, the tension in your shoulders dispersing at the sight of him. The two of you have been together all day, but it feels as if it’s been a while, too long, since you’ve talked to him, just him (just you and Bakugou). “Is everything okay?”

He’s still standing on the steps, hand on the door, glaring at you. The closer you look, you realize his teeth are tearing up the skin inside his mouth, the tie is still clenched tight in his hand, leg bouncing just enough. He’s thinking, too hard.

“Bakugou?”

The slam of the door echoes off the concrete in the lobby, making you jump as he crosses the few steps between you and him (his legs, unending, long and powerful beneath his loose slacks). A myriad of words splutters out of you, none of them quite formed or making sense, when he grabs the front of your top, forcing you back against the vanity, forcing you closer as he crowds against you. The smell of his cologne is exhilarating—expensive, like orchids and spice and comfort—and it just barely masks the lingering sweet smell he’s never without.

“What’rey’do—”

“You’re driving me fucking insane!” It’s like he’s had enough, like he’s fed up with all the back and forth, the tug and pull.

(You think you’ve had enough, too. You think you're anxious and willing, for whatever comes next.)

And then you both erupt, all at once; he presses his mouth to yours (hot, chaste, close-lipped), one hand moving from your shirt to the back of your neck to keep you flush against him. A small sound of surprise and sudden want has him curling into you, pushing you further into the edge of the table until you have to wince out a whiny “ow”.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he grunts and it does something to you, has you scrambling to sit back on the vanity, opening your thighs wide, allowing him to crash so close that he chokes on his gasp. You aren’t sure if he’s aware of it, but his hips are knocking against the wood, straining to grind in tandem with yours.

Back against the mirror, you do your best to shift so that a hand can go up your shirt, splaying out against your ribs, just under your bra, but the table shakes with how aggressive he’s becoming, how unhinged now that the line has been crossed, and things clatter to the floor. Miss Customer Service™ is an idiot, one that turns her head to see bottles spilling onto the carpet, cotton pads and Q-tips strewn out amongst makeup wipes and brushes—a wet bite to your neck has you squealing, unintentionally rutting against the hard length of him as you return your attention back to the man between your thighs.

“—fucking damn it,” Bakugou groans, slanting his head so his mouth can capture yours entirely, parting your lips, tongue stroking yours in a way that has a moan slipping from you. “You’re—”

You’ve no idea what he means to say, but you’re too dizzy to care, agreeing with a breathy, “yeah” that sounds so pornographic, it has you freezing, silently fighting off the embarrassment that threatens to ruin the mood. It seems to spur him on, to ignite him, teeth meeting teeth as he growls like it isn’t enough, like it isn’t close enough, like he’s not getting what he needs.

One of his hands leaves your face to work on the buttons of his shirt, furiously trying to undo them while kissing you so deep, so hungry, but he pulls back to look down at his chest when he barely manages to get one open, “fuck!”

The sight of him so flushed, lips spit-slick and chest heaving like he’d just finished 27, 28, 29, 30 curls has you tightening your thighs around him, a hand going to the table to inch you forward to where you need the pressure of him the most. The look he sends you is threatening, lips curling back to bare his canines like the feral brute that he is, that you need in this moment, but it only eggs you on. You want him to give you that look and many more, new ones, heady ones, the kind that will sear into your eyelids.

“‘m gonna fuckin’ lose it,” he warns, buttons clinking against the mirror as he yanks the fabric apart, tearing the seams and tossing it to the ground.

“What does that look like?” It’s a little humiliating, how out of breath you are just from kissing him; you can’t imagine how it would be if the two of you actually— “Why don’t you show—me!”

Bakugou’s hands cup around the backs of your knees before you can finish, drawing you as close to the edge of the table as he can while rutting against you, hard. A sigh of bliss spills from his mouth into yours as he reconnects his lips, and one of your hands goes to his stomach, shuddering at how tightly it tenses under your touch. After spying it earlier, you can’t help it; he huffs through his nose when you follow the trail of hair underneath his bellybutton to the top of his briefs.

“You’re—oh, fuck—” He’s coming undone in the best way, hand shaking as it slips back into place behind your neck (his fingers are searing, leaving prints on your skin that burn down to your muscle and bone, that brand you), and you can’t believe this is happening, you can’t believe this is actually, finally, happening.

The two of you have put it off for too long, tried too hard to avoid this thing that’s been threatening to carbonize you and now the flame is wild, out of control, consuming you both.

“Bakugou—”

“Katsuki,” he rasps, he pleads, “jus’—you can call me by my name,” his nose nudges yours softly, taking you back to his office, your fingers stroking over his eyelids, him nodding urgently as you said what he wanted—needed—to hear.

You arch forward into him, chest to chest, sternum to sternum, bone to bone, and travel your hands up to his neck, to scratch against his scalp. It draws a groan from deep within his chest and he succumbs, leaning against you so that he can kiss you with significance, with purpose; it’s slow but deliberate, desperate, saying all the things he’s unable to.

“Katsuki,” you say, you yield, and you don’t care that the two of you are in a makeup trailer in a stadium rented out to Sports Illustrated; you don’t care if he’s your boss and you’re his assistant; you don’t care if Kirishima knows, or Mina, or Yukiko or Maybe-Nakano or the old woman from the gyudon place; if he burns, so will you.

Because he’s gotten you accustomed to the heat, because he’s calloused you.

“I don’t want to be Yukiko,” it’s whispered against his lips and he slows down the tiniest bit, trying to listen to whatever you’re saying, “watching you from the sidelines because I couldn’t say it when I needed to.”

Katsuki can’t know what you’re talking about, has no idea of what was revealed to you, but he shakes his head slightly, nipping your lip. “What sidelines? There ain’t any sidelines.”

When he tugs at your visitor badge—the horrible, rotten, loathsome thing—you grin so hard it hurts. “I’m with you?”

His hips rock into yours unhurried, as if you have all the time in the world (just you and Katsuki), and a breath stutters out in the space between you. “‘s’right.”

And then the bubble pops.

“Is everything alright in there?” Comes a voice outside the trailer, and you strain your ears desperately, pleading to the universe that it is not, somehow, Kirishima Eijirou. “We heard some crashing.”

Yukiko—the grin in her voice translates through the door.

Oh my god, you think, you say, horrified. Your hand slaps over your mouth as Katsuki rolls his eyes, stilling his hips but not yet leaning from you. When she knocks again, he grits his teeth and barks,

“We’re come—we’ll be out in a minute, damn it!”

The fit of laughter you devolve into has him scowling, fingers pinching your sides as he grumbles at you to shaddup, though his words are laced with fatigue; neither of you have the strength not to fall into whatever this is.

“‘m never doing this interview shit again, got it?” he groans, grabbing a stray button from the vanity to scrutinize.

Giving a playful salute, you say, “sir, yes, sir.”

Katsuki glowers, rolling his shoulders in that way that looks like it hurts, in that way that looks mouthwatering—and he knows it, by the smirk growing on his face. “If you keep that sir shit up, we’re gonna be in here longer than a minute.”

In your fuzzy boots, you sweaty toes curl, biting your lip to keep from smiling as he retrieves his ruined shirt from the ground—oh, god, how were you gonna explain that to Maybe-Nakano? “Is that a promise?”

His eyes widen furiously and he pinches you again, trapping you back against the mirror as his nose bumps yours, “are you. Trying. To drive me. Crazy.”

And it’s not so much a question as it is a confession.

—

8:13 A

The photos of Dynamight are, as expected, impeccable.

Yukiko had forwarded you a few of the unedited shots through her official email address—and she had also sent several winking emojis through her personal, which she had given to you not long after the shoot.

There are only three sample photos, stamped with an embossed, Sports Illustrated watermark that takes up the majority of the picture, but you’ve been peeking at them whenever Kirishima isn’t incidentally prowling past your office. He looks amazing, changed, grown, in the untouched versions, with scars peeking out on his chest and across his nose, the stubble he refused to let them shave shadowing his chin, the deep, permanent crease between his eyebrows—it’s all him, Dynamight, Katsuki, exactly as he is.

The wooden blinds in his office are pulled open, flooding your office with the fluorescent light burning through his, and when you look up to give him a wave (that he won’t return), his eyes are already on you—as they always seem to be, these days.

Alright already, he means, get your ass in here.

The low heels you're wearing today don’t require a clasp, so slipping them on is all too easy, and you peer out of your office warily—your clipboard and the folder with the photos hugged tight to your chest—while searching for any pesky redheads. When the coast seems clear, you hurry to round the corner from your office into his, leaning back against the door—which you realize has a bright green sticky note that says FUCK OFF, SHITTY HAIR—holding your breath until it’s safely shut.

Your boss is waiting, chin in hand, one ash eyebrow raised.

“Good morning,” you beam, waving the manila folder like a prize before setting it on his desk. “I can’t wait to show you these, they turned out great—”

It’s flicked back across the desk at you, “Not interested.”

“Aww, c’mon!” You whine, shoulders slumping, “don’t you want to see the fruits of your labor?”

“Decline.”

Tapping a pen against your lips, you narrow your eyes at him, biting back a smile when he frowns. “I’ll find a way to show you, somehow, anyway! Deku called at 2:37 yesterday—”

“Decline.”

“And he did not ask you to lunch, y’old grouch.” You smirk when his lip twitches. “I just wanted to gloat that he called and asked to speak to me—”

“What the hell did he say?”

Katsuki looks bewildered; you’re in the elevator, you’re raising the sack.

“Uh, sir, are you asking about my personal conversations with your fellow—”

“I’m not fuckin’ around, what did he say?”

He’s in the corner, hissing and spitting, but you’ve still got him in your sights.

The pen taps against your lips again and you hum, “I don’t really think it’s appropriate that I divulge that information to you, sir, but if you’d like to call him—”

“I know what you’re doing, y’little brat.” His chair flies into the file cabinet behind him with how quick he rises to his feet. “And it ain’t gonna work. When I want to call him, I will.”

Shit, eluded you again. Sorry Deku, you think, maybe next time.

“Okay,” you shrug, checking the box on your clipboard, “Best Jeanist called, he wanted to congratulate you on hitting the number four spot.”

He stands straighter, suddenly looking awkward, out of place, that he’s been acknowledged. “Well, it’s about fuckin’ time.”

Clearing your throat, you lean a little more into the door, keeping your eyes trained on a not-entirely-real to do on your list. “And your romantic partner, she would like to congratulate you also.”

“Hah? My—” Katsuki’s eyes narrow suspiciously at you as he comes around the front of his desk, taking measured, predatory steps as he looms closer. “Better be something other than—”

“Tuna-mayo, I know,” you pretend to read another Post-It before dropping the act, smiling up at him as his eyes dart down to your lips. “It definitely is.”

“When ‘m I gettin’ this congratulations?”

“Later, when certain heroes aren’t in the same—”

But Katsuki doesn’t care, relying on the note tacked to the front of his door as he captures your lips with his own. The hoodie he’s wearing is making him entirely too warm, spreading to you when his hands come up to hold your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks in such an affectionate way, you think to hell with Kirishima knowing.

The clipboard clatters lightly to the floor as you wrap your arms around his waist, hands coming up to rest in the comfort of his back (broad, scarred, steady enough to hold the weight of Japan). He groans lowly when you scratch him through the fabric, though it is more a sound of contentment than lust, and you giggle against him as he pulls back to peck you once, twice, three times.

“Sir,” you try to pout, but your lips don’t listen, “this is entirely inappropriate for—”

“Cut the sir shit, or else.”

“I am never, ever going to cut the sir shit, I’m sorry, I just can’t.” Your arms tighten around him when he tries to pull away, scowling down at you.

“Then you’re gonna get fucking railed in here one day, and I don’t want to hear shit about—and don’t you ask me if that’s a goddamn promise, ‘cause it is!” Katsuki goes to kiss you again, just to shut you up since you can’t stop giggling into the fabric of his chest. “Don’t fuckin’ laugh at—”

There is a wild banging on the glass window of your office, where the blinds are still open and revealing.

Where Kirishima stands, grin lighting up his smug face brighter than you think you’ve ever seen it. Just as he gives a giant, rewarding thumbs up to the both of you, Katsuki tears the door of his own office open, shouting out a raging—

“That’s it!”

—before Eijirou’s wild laughter can be heard echoing off the high-vaulted ceilings of the agency. The sound makes you laugh, feeling so full in your chest at the familiarity of it—Red Riot’s sunshine, Dynamight’s inferno—and it has you wondering if maybe you’ve been inside this bubble a lot longer than you realized, if maybe you’ve been inside it all along.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou x you #bakugou angst #bakugou fluff #bakugou katsuki #i genuinely worried that i wouldn't have enough content to make this chapter worth while and --#here we are babey --#this thing was a hill to climb but i'm glad i did !#i hope that you all enjoyed it ! i hope it lived up to the hype LOL #and i'm sorry it took so long #thank you for being so patient with me !!!#[ ☆ multi chap: bakugou ]#[ ☆ and you take me the way i am: bakugou ]#✿ willow writes

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multistan-kpopwritings · 3 years

Text

I Owe You

➟ pairing(s): Han Ji-Sung x Reader

➟ genre(s): Fluff

➟ word count: 963

➟ warnings: None

"Oh no," you exclaimed checking your watch! "I'm late, I'm late," you chanted. Rounding the corner sharply, you checked your crumpled paper for the office number. "Suite 720. 720? Seventh floor. Must be." Skidding to a stop in from of the elevator you impatiently jabbed the up button.

Today had to be one of your worst days in a long time. First, your alarm didn't wake you up, then your hair curler broke, your roommate forgot to pick up your dry cleaning, and the last straw was your car had a flat tire. Now you were late for your job interview, which was out of character for you. Your motto was "You're on time if your early and late if you're one time."

The elevator doors slid open and you swiftly entered, pressing the 7 button. Just before the doors shut you heard some call out to hold them. Groaning, you stuck your hand out to keep the doors from shutting. A pair of hands opened pried the doors open to reveal an angelic smile.

"Thanks," he said breathlessly, "The seventh floor, please. I was worried I would have to wait for the next one." He ran his hand through his hair and smiled at you. "Nothing has gone right for me this morning. I'm Ji-Sung," he held a hand out to you.

"Y/N," you said, shaking his hand. You eyed his outfit. His ripped jeans, trainers, jacket, and unnatural hair color seemed out of place. He held your hand longer than usual. When your eyes met his, he licked his lips and smiled. Suddenly uncomfortable, you pulled your hand back.

"Do you work here," he asked, making small talk?

"No," you said simply. "Well not yet. Maybe. I have an interview that I'm late for." You laughed lightly. "You're not the only one that had a rough morning." He tilted his head and listened sympathetically.

As the elevator dinged, signaling you reached your destination, Ji-Sung reached out to hold the doors open. He swept his hand out to gesture you to go first. You quickly made your exit and headed towards the office labeled 720.

You slipped into the office and spoke to the receptionist, giving her your name and reason for being there. You took a deep breath and took a seat.

"Are you following me," you heard a familiar voice ask? Your gaze fell upon the trainers and ripped jeans that Ji-Sung wore.

"I was here first," you reminded him. He shook his head and smiled at you.

"This is where your interview is," he said pointing to the company logo. You nodded quickly,

"What are you doing here," you asked. Before he had a chance to answer, an older man in a suit entered the room.

"Ms. Y/L/N," he began, "You're late." His eyes looked you over.

"Yes, sir," you said softly, standing to bow. "This is out of character, and I am sorry. There was-"

"Excuses are not what we are looking for," the older man scolded you, "Maybe next time you can try and be on time. If you're serious about this position." You took a deep breath as your cheeks flushed red. "I'm sorry, I don't think this will be a good place for you." Tears stung your eyes.

"I'm sorry for wasting your time Mr. Han," you said bowing to the older man again. You understood that being late was unprofessional, but it was only a few minutes. "Excuse me," you said softly, brushing past Ji-Sung.

"Hey, hold on," the younger man said to you, grabbing your arm. "That's not fair." You shook your head, unable to meet his eyes. "She would have been on time if she didn't stop the elevator to help me."

"So you're the reason she's late," Mr. Han asked the younger man? His eyes narrowed on him and then you. Ji-Sung shook his head and guided you to stand by his side. "Ok," the older man sighed, "Ms. Y/L/N, can you follow me this way. It seems my son has caused you enough trouble today. The least I can do is allow you to interview." Your eyes darted to Ji-Sung who nodded his head for you to follow his father. You mouthed 'thank you' and quickly caught up with Mr. Han.

The next 45 minutes seemed to fly by. You felt confidant as you said goodbye to Mr. Han and thanked him again for taking the time to speak with you. Exiting into the hall, you were startled by that familiar voice again.

"How did it go," Ji-Sung asked, walking quickly to catch up with you? You spun and smiled at him.

"Are you following me," you teased him? He smiled bigger and paced himself to stay at your side. "I owe you for this. You didn't have to do that." You touched his arm. "Thank you." He shrugged and blushed.

"It was nothing," he said shyly, "Sometimes my dad can be a hard ass. You deserved a chance."

"I think it went well," you said to yourself. "Maybe I'll see you around if it did." You smiled and pressed the down button on the elevator. The doors opened almost instantly, allowing you to step in, alone. You pressed the floor button and watched as the doors slowly closed. Quickly, a pair of hands stopped the doors and opened them. Ji-Sung stood there, smiling bashfully.

"Can I take you to dinner," he asked? "We can celebrate if you get the job... Or celebrate if you don't... Or we can just get to know each other."

"I'd like that," you accepted. You pulled a pen and paper from your purse and wrote your number. Slipping the paper into his hands, you kissed his cheek. "Thanks again, I owe you big time."

#stray kids #skz #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids han #skz han #stray kids han jisung #skz han jisung #han jisung #stray kids han x reader #skz han x reader #han x reader #han jisung x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #han fluff #han jisung fluff

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thepriceofbeingaroseisloneliness · 3 years

Text

Kaoru (DIR EN GREY) & Hazuki SPECIAL INTERVIEW 1/2 Translation

Notes before reading: This is the first part of the special interview broadcasted on Hazuki’s Youtube channel, you can still watch it there. The special interview is 45 min long, this part covers until minute 24. I will upload the second part in a day or two.

You can watch the interview here Please watch and support Hazuki’s channel!

Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistakes or any confusing parts. Links or credits to this post when the content is reposted or captured in other SNS is appreciated :) ----- Hazuki: Today’s guest is already here! Kaoru from Dir en grey! Kaoru: Thank you (laughs) Hazuki: Thank you for being here! (laughs) Kaoru: Well, somehow as the tension is different than usual, I got a bit surprised…(laughs) *he means the program started suddenly* Hazuki: (The program started) In a single blow…I cut in with a single blow…. I’m sorry… Well, I’ve been on Youtube since last year….I already had Ryuichi Kawamura (Luna Sea’s vocalist) and an acquaintance who is a death metal/death growls instructor….being able to do talks like this it’s a bit special so I want to do more and more….like for example, telling everyone stories about Kaoru they’ve never heard before….I would like to see that more and more….I asked you (to come here) and you agreed immediately so thank you so much… Kaoru: No,no…you don’t need to (thank me)…. Hazuki: I’m really thankful…. Kaoru: But, the first time we talked about this was last year…. Hazuki: It was actually a while ago, that’s true… Kaoru: But somehow, I wondered if there was something good we could talk about here…. Hazuki: This time, “Oboro” will be released on 28th April….so I’d like to talk about that as well…there are also a few things here *pointing at the table* so it’s not just that…. I often met Kaoru but there are times we meet from the beginning but sometimes we meet in a second or third different stages…. Kaoru: After eating… Hazuki: There are some patterns about coming together, like sometimes it’s the two of us at the beginning…. Kaoru: Yes Hazuki: Or both of us staying until the end…..to this day, I haven’t get used to that situation at all….*laughs* Kaoru: At those times, you are a bit…..like this…..*starts imitating Hazuki, making awkward movements* Like this…..*Hazuki laughs, Kaoru too* At that moment I feel like “ohh” *ego boost gesture lol* Hazuki: No,no…. (laughs) It feels exactly like that to me…..yes….I feel it…. So, before these talks, I get a drink for the guest that is here. I brought a lot of things but for the time being, let’s open a beer and after getting some alcohol in our bodies… Kaoru: That’s right… let’s start with this, right?.... because if you don’t drink, you won’t say anything…. Hazuki: I’m sorry….as there is a little distance between us…. I’m nervous so I need to drink alcohol…because you are a big senpai for me….cheers! Kaoru: Cheers! They both toast with their beer cans. Hazuki: It’s good…everyone is curious about one thing…. It’s really in the way….*Hazuki puts his hand on a bottle that it’s on the centre of the table, covered by a cloth* It’s really an object that stands out but, the drink that I want to serve for Kaoru today is….well, for me this…..how long has it been? I think 15-16 years… but in this long time there is especially one drink that left an impression in me…. Kaoru: Is something we drank together? Hazuki: We did….I get to know this type of alcohol/sake from Kaoru…. I couldn’t drink it at that time… Kaoru: I wonder what it is… Hazuki:I couldn’t drink it but as you were really into it and drank it….I was like….”I want to drink it with Kaoru”, so I tried and it was delicious….so I was able to drink it that’s why today I brought it…do you know what is it?...*pointing at the cloth* Kaoru:*Laughs* I wonder… what can it be?.... Because of the size I would say it’s whisky… Hazuki: Ah yes the size…..but it’s not….it’s another thing…. Kaoru: Sweet potato shōchū? Hazuki: Ah, you are quite close….it’s a type of shōchū…. Kaoru: Eh? Hazuki: It’s not Sweet potato shōchū Kaoru: Is it Tantakatan? * Tantakatan is a shōchū made with perilla leaves. It is produced in Hokkaido, Japan. Hazuki: *screams* AH!...that’s it…..*Kaoru and Hazuki laugh* That’s amazing *Hazuki starts clapping* You knew it so well…*Hazuki takes off the cloth of the bottle* Kaoru: It’s been a long time! Hazuki: It’s Tantankatan…. Kaoru: This makes me feel really nostalgic…. Hazuki: How many years ago? Kaoru: A lot…. Hazuki: I think it was 23 years ago…. Kaoru: I used to drink this a lot…. Hazuki: Drinking this kind of alcohol on the rocks…. I was still young at that time, I’ve only drank beer, shōchū and highball shōchū. I thought “I should really try this”. When you asked me to join you, drinking this, I drank a lot and got really into it. After this, there was a boom in potato-fermented drinks *Kaoru laughs* But because you asked me to drink it together, I got to like it. *Kaoru laughs* *On the rocks” means serving an alcoholic beverage in a cocktail glass with ice. I think Hazuki means is “a fancy drink”. Kaoru: How nostalgic….I barely drink this anymore…. Hazuki: I drink it…. I thought “this is definitely the drink I want to share with him”…..after drinking this beer…. Kaoru: Let’s drink it….let’s finish the beers… Hazuki: You don’t need to hurry….we still have time…. Hazuki seems to be amazed by Kaoru’s reaction towards the Tantankatan. Kaoru: This makes me feel really nostalgic! Do they sell this at convenience stores? Hazuki: They do. Hazuki wants to know when Kaoru had the first chance to try Tantakatan. Kaoru: Maybe on tour… Hazuki: I see, because it was popular/a trend…to drink it with everyone… Kaoru: Maybe the first time I drank it…. It was with Mr Ito, from the security company of X (X Japan)….that person’s face looked like a gorilla….*Hazuki laughs* when we started going on tour together, I started drinking it with him…. *Mr. Ito was popular for being in charge of the security of X Japan and Luna Sea. He worked later with other bands like Dir en grey. He is said to be the saviour of many fans as he worked sometimes in the front lines. Hazuki: He gave it to you and you drank it together….I see…. Actually, it’s not the first time you appear in a program I’m doing…. Kaoru: You mean the radio one? Hazuki: Yes, the one called 「Weekly lynch」. When was it? 8 or 7 years ago. At that time, you were about to release “The Unraveling”. You were releasing “The Unraveling” so you came to the program. Since then, probably most of the people who are watching this haven’t heard that radio program, especially Lynch fans so, roughly I’d like to talk about how we ended up here….I would like to talk about this again…our first encounter….do you remember it? *Hazuki starts laughing softly but ends up laughing loudly when he sees Kaoru struggling to remember it* *Kaoru appeared as a guest in「Weekly lynch」in NACK5 FM on March 2013. Kaoru: It was because of Reo, right? Hazuki: That’s it, that’s it…. Kaoru: I remember it was Reo (Lynch’s guitarist) who introduced you to me…. About where it was…..I think it was at some hotel lobby… Hazuki: That’s it, that’s it…at that time you were staying at a hotel in Nagoya…. Reo and I went to the lobby to meet you and we went to a shop…..I was really really nervous…I was thinking “finally I’m going to meet Dir en grey”, as I knew the band since I was in high school…I was really nervous about meeting you for the first time but….at that hotel lobby there were many fans showing up as well…like waiting for the members….I was thinking “as expected from stars/famous people” when you were getting off quickly…*Hazuki laughs* Kaoru: I see….it was at a hotel…

Hazuki: That time we hardly talk…. Kaoru: That’s true….I talked to Reo mostly… Hazuki: But I was listening to you in the sideway….at that time I already liked to drink…. But Reo doesn’t drink right?...*Kaoru nods* I guess he can’t drink…. I don’t know though….but he didn’t drink…the next time you came to Nagoya, I find the courage to invite you, I was like “tonight I’m going to invite Kaoru!”, but at that time you have another plan with other person so you told me “I’m sorry”…so I went back home…. The next day, you contacted me by email to meet in the afternoon… Kaoru: Suddenly? Hazuki: Suddenly…I thought it was weird because it was your day off… I got super excited….and we went to “Mountain”… Kaoru: Aaaaaa Hazuki: (Mountain) in Nagoya….I want everyone to google it….it’s a pasta place among other things… Kaoru: I’m sure your fans know it well….I get to know this place from you…. Hazuki: Is that so?-….*laughs*.. I was the one who introduced this place to you… Kaoru: That’s it, that’s it…. Hazuki: Well….since that moment….. each time that Kaoru came to Nagoya with Dir en grey…we would usually drink together….it was almost like a perfect attendance award, right? Kaoru: Right…. Hazuki talks a little bit more about attending Dir’s live when they came to play at Zepp Nagoya even though he lived in a rural area. Hazuki: At that time, I lived at my parents house in a really rural area of Nagoya. As going by train to Nagoya was hard, coming back was also hard, manga cafe… Kaoru: *cutting in* That’s it! They both starting laughing. Kaoru: I asked you if you were ok (staying there)…. Hazuki: The first time after the live was over….at the first after party…..the other members were there….there were many people gathering there… every one was talking and I didn’t do much there… the second time you told me to wait for you….when we finished drinking it was past midnight….early in the morning…. There wasn’t a night bus and I didn’t have money to come back by taxi….so I came to the manga café, slept a bit and came back by train in the morning… Kaoru: That’s it…. Hazuki: For me, that you came to Nagoya and we could drink together….it was something really valuable for me….it makes me feel nostalgic….those days have kept going these 15-16 years….it might feel a bit like “why a vocalist and a guitarist *laughs* but you are really a big senpai that I respect…that’s right…this program….for this talk corner….nothing has been decided…*Kaoru nods* I really didn't decide anything….what could be the first topic?....mmm…I think we could talk about the moment you got into rock music…. Kaoru: Like when I started playing? Hazuki: That’s right….for example, I only listened to kayōkyoku ( Japanese popular music from Showa Era) when I was an elementary student….at that time it started to sound “Rosier” by Luna Sea and I was like “what is this?” so I got into the rock world…is there something like that for you? Something like “oh that’s amazing!” or so…. Kaoru: The first time I listened to something and thought “that’s rock” was BOOWY. Hazuki: Eh?? Is that so? Kaoru: I think it was a thing for my generation…..everyone listened to BOOWY. Hazuki: They were still active? Kaoru: Barely….it was before their disband.…. Hazuki: I see… Kaoru: But at middle school everyone listened to them….but the band I listened to before them was Seikima-II…. Hazuki laughs. Kaoru: Singles at that time were records (LP), right?.. Hazuki: Yes… Kaoru: I bought it and listened to it….even at that time, like when it comes to bands and rock music it was like…..something amazing and flashy… Seikima-II felt like “this is it”….that’s how it felt when I listened and looked at them….I didn’t listen to them with the image of “this is rock” or a “band”…. But when I heard that kind of band, the guitars, the bass….everything together I thought “this is cool”….as expected, BOOWY’s (activities) at that time were decreasing but there was also bands like Barbee Boys and Ziggy…. But among all those bands I listened to….when I was in middle school, a transferred student came to my school to my class….he looked very serious…in that class he felt like the calm type….he sat next to me….and once we were going back home he invited me to hang out with him…even thought he was a middle school student….his room was full of records…..he had everything….an amplifier, record player, tapes…he also have CDs that were a recent thing at that time….he also had this huge speaker…of course he had a bed as well as it was his room…. Hazuki: But it was your friend’s stuff? Not his father’s? Kaoru: It wasn’t his father’s stuff, all belonged to him… Hazuki: Ehhhh Kaoru: It was amazing….it looked like an unknown world to me….I went to his house often to hang out after school…we would listen to the records that he had, he told to listen to the music he liked….one of the things he made me listen to was metal…. Hazuki: Western music? Kaoru: There was a lot of western music as well…like Iron Maiden and Judas…also Japanese metal and so but….it was like a “no way, no way” for me…. Hazuki: At time it wasn’t your cup of tea? Kaoru: At all…. Hazuki: Eh… Kaoru: I liked music in English….like Michael Jackson…I like Pop….music from the UK…..I listened to new wave bands for example….but that kind of hard rock or metal….I have this image of muscular guys playing in shorts jumping around energetically while playing….with those things in their shoulders that made them look like Saint Seiya….*Hazuki laughs* I had that kind of image… Hazuki: This is after BOOWY? Kaoru: It’s after BOOWY….I still was listening to BOØWY’s all the time….*Kaoru mumbles something about BOOWY’s CD covers?* Hazuki mentions Japan ( A new wave band from the Uk). They also mention again BOOWY’ and finally, X Japan appears. Kaoru mentions X’s Vanishing vision and that he didn’t like it at first because of the fierce and fast tempo songs. Hazuki: Eh? *laughs* I really can’t believe what you are saying right now… Kaoru: It was like a “no,no” for me…but among them, there were one or two songs that I liked… Hazuki: Yes, yes… Kaoru: Then, at high school…..I graduated from middle school and I started high school on April…and the 21st of April “Blue blood” was released…. Hazuki: Oh! Kaoru: At the bookstore and so there were X stuff there, I already knew them….and I preordered the CD…. Hazuki: *Laughs* How did that happen? Kaoru: I don’t know….I just did it… Hazuki: But you didn’t like them at that time….*laughs* Kaoru: But somehow for the first time, I was interested in them so I went the day of the release to buy the CD, I went back home,I listened to it at the radio-cassette and I was like “what on Earth is this?” *Hazuki laughs* Hazuki: That wasn’t too fast and fierce for you… Kaoru: It wasn’t….at all… Hazuki points out that the song called like the album “Blue blood” is fast and fierce but Kaoru seems to not care about that as he was amazed by the album. For Hazuki, it was too fast and fierce so it was a “No” for him at that moment. Kaoru: I was like “what’s this”?.... Hazuki: And because of that opportunity, even though it was fierce and fast, as you bought the CD yourself… Kaoru: For me, it was the feeling of the whole “Blue blood” album….it was like listening to something amazing… Hazuki: But you got interested in that album when you saw that add (at the bookstore)…. Kaoru; That’s it, That’s it…. Hazuki: From there, you got into that world-view…. Kaoru: Certainly…that’s it, that’s it…at first, as expected, I didn’t know much about instruments and their sound….but the songs…and the atmosphere when I listened to the songs….I saw there was a live at the medium hall of the Kousei Nenkin Kaikan in Osaka but the tickets were already sold out. I feel like going to the venue at that moment…. Hazuki: But you didn’t have a ticket…. Kaoru tells next the story about how he got the ticket after walking around the venue. It seems he was first offered a ticket by a old guy who asked for 5000 yen for the ticket (the real price was 3000 yen) but Kaoru didn’t have the money for it as he needed some for the train back home. Kaoru gave up about getting a ticket and he was wondering if he should buy some merch as people started to gather for the concert. Then, another old guy guy approached him and offered him a ticket, that was a seat in the last row of the first floor, and Kaoru got it. Kaoru adds he was kind of careless for doing that? ( getting a ticket from a scalper) And Hazuki starts laughing nervously. Hazuki: Well, well it’s ok…..because it’s an old story…. Kaoru: Then at the live I was on the right side…. Hazuki: That was Hide’s…. Kaoru: When I saw him….I was shocked…. Hazuki: Like it was something you shouldn’t see…. Were you a middle school student at that moment? Kaoru: A High school student…. Hazuki: Ah, you were in high school…. Kaoru: After seeing him, I just could see this person… Hazuki: But you are Dir en grey’s leader, right? Everyone…that fast and fierce songs were a “no” for you *laughs* Kaoru: It was really a “no-no” for me….for real….no way… Hazuki: And after that, the most intense and fast songs……but you didn’t like that at the beginning….but because of Hide…..X japan at that time was really fierce/violent….*Kaoru nods* With their hair up this way…*makes the gesture of the hair* Kaoru: All of them have their hair up…..but at the beginning, I was a little reluctant to get into foreign metal…. Hazuki: I understand that, it was the same for me….I was reluctant to it…. Kaoru: It was like it felt hard to get into it…. Hazuki: But when I was reading interviews of the artist I liked, they wrote about other musicians they liked, right? I wanted to try to listen to them, but I couldn’t really do it….because I didn’t like it…. Kaoru: That’s right… Hazuki: It was like that….was it the same for you? Kaoru: Like Alice Cooper with all that heavy black make-up…..he looked scary….when I listened to it, I didn’t really understand it… Hazuki: Like “X is better”, right?….it was like that for me too…. Kaoru: Hide was into pop music so I got into some artists because of him. Hazuki: I see… Kaoru: It’s stuff that I still listen nowadays….at that time he introduced these artist to his fans and I got into it. Now I listen to it and I think it’s cool...somehow it became like my roots….but at that time when it comes to rock, it was like “I don’t get it”…. Hazuki: I see….at that time, the members of Luna Sea would talk about Guns N' Roses or Nirvana….I rent some stuff from them but I was like “it’s not fierce, it’s not dark or bright, it’s just different”. Another time I listened to Korn and Slipknot and I was like “Oh, I like this”…until then, I barely listen to anything like that…. Kaoru: So since that time, you started to listen to western music…. Hazuki: Yes, I started to listen to it properly…..you already finished your beer… Kaoru: I did…. Hazuki: Oh, I’m sorry….*Hazuki grabs the bottle of “Tantakatan” to open it* That guy you talked about, the guy with the audio equipment, what happened to him after that? Kaoru: At that time, we graduated from middle school and…. Hazuki: Is that so? Kaoru: I don’t know what he is doing since then at all…. Hazuki: Eh??? Kaoru: Truth is….I would like to try to meet him…. Hazuki: If he is watching this…..if you see this, you can definitely contact us….so, about music....this talk is because you are going to release a single and it would be strange to not talk about it… Kaoru: It feels weird… Hazuki: It’s embarrassing for me because I’m not used to this. It’s a bit embarrassing but I really want to ask you about it…. “Oboro”, which is going to be released on 28th April… ....Tbc....

#dir en grey #lynch #kaoru #hazuki #translation

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karezzasstuff · 3 years

Text

From the project of interviewing Stanley S. Bass about his experiences with Karezza techniques, The Life Science Publishing created the 2008 book Energy-Karezza. Here Dr. Bass tells the story of how, in his 30’s, he was on his way to become a celibate yogi through Brahmacharya, when he learned about reaching the same spiritual goal via Karezza & Tantra. He decided to try Karezza instead.

Even though his personal goal was spiritual, Dr. Bass soon discovered that women loved Karezza, and couldn’t get enough. When he started teaching the improved Energy-Karezza method to couples with marital problems, the results were astounding. Usually, within weeks, the couple had fallen in love again. Problematic marriages healed, becoming more and more harmonious and stronger with time.

Over time, over 50+ years, he not only gained experience concerning every aspect of Karezza/Tantra, but also – thanks to his energy-understanding, being an orthopathic doctor – developed an improved, more powerful & easy-to-learn, version. Traditional “Karezza/Tantra” can be difficult for men, but “Energy-Karezza/Tantra” is easy, and also gives more pleasure & prolongation..

INTRODUCING OTHERS TO KAREZZA

youtube

Karezza is about one thing, the man has to control himself. It is so easy. I got so good at this control that I soon was able to go almost a whole year with no accidents. With very heavy sex - three times a week, four hours each session. It didn't take long to get to a high level of proficiency.

In a few months I was very good at it already.

It is very simple, it is natural. It is not difficult. Prove it for yourself, don't take my word for it. Try it out. The first time I heard about it, it was strange to me, so I tried it. It didn't take me long to get good at it. It was easier than I thought. In fact, I taught Karezza to a lot of friends, and everyone had success.

If one of them asked me, "how do I know if it will work?", I gave him a simple method of trying it. I usually said, "why don't you first try:

1. Don't have an orgasm quickly, but wait until the woman is finished, until she has had her enjoyment. Practice holding back for half an hour, for an hour, for several hours, if you can.

2. Then you'll see that your own orgasms are better; they are more enjoyable.

3. Also try having an orgasm only every other time you have sex.

Skipping one time. Every other time, try without orgasm. See how you feel."

With my sex students, those were my instructions, to begin with. These instructions summarize basic traditional Karezza. But these simple instructions could still be difficult for some men. They lost control (ejaculated) early, and were never able to do Karezza for a full hour.

Therefore, to make it easier, I gave my students some Energy-Karezza secrets. I asked them to improve their diet, and to avoid alcohol and all drugs. I told them not to eat before sex, because a man can not control himself after he has eaten. Why? Because then too much blood goes to the stomach.

Also, I gave very detailed instructions on the best movements in sex. I told them to move slowly, and explained how to move, so they wouldn't get too excited, e.g. sideways, in semicircles, avoiding the in-out moves.

For the premature ejaculators, I told them to give up salt, and to not use anything spicy hot, avoid hot peppers, stay away from spices, because this throws them out of control. And then I told them to use certain motions, slow motions, that makes it easy to control oneself. That's all.

Then the women will get the pleasure, because the men are controlling themselves.

For some men the pleasure was so overwhelming that they were still unable to control themselves very long, more than perhaps 45 minutes, even if their diet was good and they had high vitality. In these cases I think the solution is just doing it over and over. Sometimes men, just like women, may need saturation with lots of high-pleasure peak orgasms, before they can start with serious self-control and higher-pleasure valley orgasms. It may take months, but in the end they will get there.

I myself was never overly concerned with the clitoris or the G-spot, because the Karezza was so enjoyable and I was so good at it that a woman couldn't hold out long. If they wanted to have an orgasm, they could have it quick. Women enjoyed it.

The women were very happy. After beginning Karezza, it became unnecessary to calculate all this stuff. I never had to actually figure it out.

All I did was to function naturally, the way I felt like, without thinking about it. And it was right, for every woman. If one gets too mechanical about it, one becomes a dud. Then it is not real. Real sex has nothing to do with the brain, it has to do with feelings, true feelings and movement.

That's all. The brain is not needed.

From page 45 the Technique to Paradise.

🍎🐍🏖️

YAB YUM

What are you experiencing?

~ by yab yum

Be patient. At first you can't experience the orgasmic part of this process. Some get it on their first try and for some it can take years. Keep practicing with the exercise your teacher gives you. Even if you don't experience the orgasm, just the breath and energy circling alone is of great value. It will clear blocks so that eventually the orgasm can pass through you. Blocks can be experienced in many ways – crying, gagging, getting frustrated, resurfacing old memories. Just keep breathing. Visualize letting go of the "old" on the exhale, ringing out the "new" on the inhale. Energy levels will most likely rise and fall, like mercury in a thermometer. Tell your partner where it slipped. Your partner will encourage you to tap into your sexual center when energy is slipping. One of the main keys to learning this technique is KNOWING that it is possible.

(When asked if she had an orgasm, Sara responded 🙂

It was uninterrupted, uninterrupted… This was definitely something else, which I have never experienced so fully.

(Sara was then asked if there were any psychological changes.)

Oh yes, sure. From the point of view of spiritual practice it is always full of insight, a kind of insight that comes after, about how I am in ecstasy in my usual state, because it is obvious that the ecstasy is inherent in the body (level), of my being… and also of course this would affect my meditation. I am much more relaxed and receptive physically, emotionally and psychologically when I sit down to meditate…. I don't know what this has to do with anything, but meditation becomes very sexual, very physical, playing with all these hormones. Very often in my meditation there is a stage like deepening where it goes through something like lovemaking in a hormonal sense. I feel the heat and change of energy and so forth, and then it just cools down. That is when deep meditation begins.

It is absolutely blissful in ecstasy because the bliss is something I feel in the body. The ecstasy is something where the body is no longer. Energy goes up. His community. It is love. The transcendent, the energy feeling, transcends even the light that I'm talking about in meditation, and just went into the light.

One tree merges with another tree, the earth merges with the trees, the trees merge with the sky, the sky merges with the unknown...you merge with me, I merge with you...everything merges...differences lost, melting and merging as waves into other waves…an enormous unity vibrating, alive, without limits, without definitions, without distinction…the sage melting into the sinner, the sinner flowing together in the sage…becoming good becoming bad, becoming bad…the night turning into the day, day turning into night… life melts into death, death plunges into life again – then everything has become one.

This has changed my experience with sexuality forever… It has blown up things like this what you have about sex, the good feeling you get from sexual experience or trying to get. It broke that because it was so obviously about submission. It wasn't about me trying to do something. It was about not doing something, but rather receiving or allowing it, rather than doing and creating and making.

This is the most profound healing practice I have ever encountered. It has awakened me to realize that my body is often shut off from the bliss and ecstasy it might be experiencing. Through this practice I have come to learn that emotional pain occurs when orgasmic energy does not flow freely through my body and that there is an infinite flow of orgasmic energy available to me. It has taken me years to gradually release the tension and pain in my body and I still have areas of tension to unblock. The sensations can be different each time depending on my condition, sometimes there is a pulsating vibration and sometimes it feels like some kind of electrical current circulating through my genitals throughout my body. There may be tears of joy. My mind can be perfectly clear and it can seem like everything I feared has been resolved. When a certain area of tension is unblocked and the orgasmic energy circulates, there is always an amazing sense of oneness with the life being awakened.

Mel 40 Auckland

My teacher knew how to touch – and where to make contact – He knew places to touch that I didn't know about – and soon I was on my way to another place in another universe. I was in a trance of breathing and sweat and pleasure that so long and so dead do had gone – that I traveled through light and sound. I never knew that such an experience could be had without actually making love. When I finally climaxed and climaxed and climaxed, I couldn't believe I was having a sexual climax in the presence of someone other than my husband. I felt both excitement and a little embarrassment. Looking back at this moment, I would never have thought that having an orgasm for another man would actually be the "beginning" of this whole journey in Tantra

Emma S 35

Auckland

And this is the joy of Cosmic Spiritual Orgasm, because you disappear for a moment. That moment is very small, but its impact is immense. For a moment you are no longer the ego, you do not think in terms of 'I', for a moment you dissolve into the oneness of the all, you become one with the whole, you pulsate with the whole. You are no longer an individual… you are no longer limited to your body. You have no limitations, for a moment you are unlimited, infinite.

That is the meaning of Cosmic Spiritual Orgasm – that your frozen energy melts, becoming one with this universe, with the trees and the stars, and the woman and the man, and the rocks – for a single moment, of course. But in THAT moment you have a kind of consciousness that is religious, that is sacred, that is one with all things. – OSHO

Unbelievable! Some are very strong and some are wonderfully subtle. In general, the more time you spend building up the energy, the more powerful the sensations. You experience “electricity” throughout your body, hands, feet and lips tingle, and there is a sense of letting go and receiving at the same time. You will feel high, euphoric and light-headed. It feels very different from a clitoral orgasm (but it can happen at the same time as a clitoral orgasm). You see a seed sprout, flowers appear on a tree somewhere, the birds are singing – the whole phenomenon is sexual. It is life manifesting in many ways. When the bird sings, it is a sexual call, an invitation. When the flower attracts butterflies and bees, it is an invitation, because the bees and butterflies bear the seeds of reproduction. Everything seems to be divided into these two polarities. And life is a rhythm between these two opposites. Repulsion and attraction, coming closer and getting far… these are the rhythms.

#awakening #tantra #unconditionallove #karezza #nirvana #moksha #yabyum #freedom #liberty #hypocrisy #john lennon #the beatles #Youtube

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tojishugetiddies · 3 years

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Here's part 2! (Technically 1 since the first was a prologue) Link to prologue:

And they were roommates...

Chapter one

Tomura's pov

"What the fuck do you mean?!" The man I now called father after saving me from the streets just looked at me calmly and started to explain to me. "Tomura, you are turning 21 within a few months. I know you want to stay here but there comes a time in everyone's lives where you must find a place for yourself. I have recently acquired an ad that Kurogiri has informed me of, and I made sure that Giran has looked into the building along with the person who lives there. I am positive that it will have the suitable accommodations, and I'll even have Kurogiri warp all your belongings there when you manage to pass the little 'interview' that they require. All you must do is make a good first impression, and please do try to watch your temper around them." While he was spouting this nonsense I was in complete shock, 'he's kicking me out? This can't be happening!' I thought. "So that's it huh? Your kicking me out?!" I growled.

He sighed and shook his head lightly while trying to get me to understand. "You must understand I only want nothing but the best for you, and to succeed in life, think of this but another one of those 'levels' in those video games you love so much. I also hear that the apartment is a studio one and you will be rooming with a girl, I believe her name is y/n l/n." Wait... I'll be living with a girl? I mean I can see the pros of that, after all, I could probably snatch some of her panties, but I also don't want to have to listen to her and another guy fucking eachother while I'm near them either. And besides, what if she's like the rest of the other girls? The ones that are snobby, prissy, entitled bitches who pull the puppy eye crap then throw you out when they got what they wanted from you. I grimace and raise my hand to lightly trace over the scars over my eyes and face while the other starts scratching at my neck unconsciously, picking off some old scabs that have yet to heal and I stop when I realise my fingertips are wet with my own blood. Well, I suppose it's better than rooming with my friend Dabi, the fuckboi always has a new slut over every day pretty much and taunts me about being a damn virgin.

"...Fine. but if this doesn't work out and she turns out to be a bitch I better be welcome back here!" I state. "Of course, you will always have a place in this house Tomura. I'll contact the woman and we will make a date for you two to meet." I sigh "yeah yeah, I gotta tell my subscribers I'll be busy for awhile getting ready to move or whatever." I head to my room where my stream setup is and look at the clock. '4:45 p.m huh? Guess I'll start my stream a bit early so I can break the news to them while finishing that one game' I thought. After setting up my stream, including the custom bit collector and all that, I loaded up the game while putting some 8bit gaming music in the background. I tweeted that the stream was going to start in about 10 minutes just so I have time to make sure everything is in working order and make sure my ping and fps are good.

"Alright that should do it." I mumbled. I did my usual greeting and everything while searching for a competitive game on Overwatch. About an hour into the stream I broke the news to my followers and subscribers saying "I might be moving soon so I won't have much time to stream until then. I'm sorry League members" (My name for my subs and followers). Thankfully my community was understanding and I was secretly grateful for that. By 11 p.m I ended the stream early to get ready for whatever is gonna happen this week. Anxiety crawled its way up my back and into my skull, giving me a fitful sleep. Hopefully things won't go so bad.

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okayto · 3 years

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Having to talk to or interview someone for a school assignment

I had to do this several times for my masters degree. And specifically, had to interview people working in specific fields (as opposed to people at my school who might be used to this), which made finding and connecting with them harder.

The first thing to keep in mind is: you must start early. Seriously. It's not a group project where the other person has a deadline too—they're taking time to help you, for nothing. A week is the BARE MINIMUM, more time is better.

You need time to:

find the interviewee and contact them

wait for them to respond

maybe go back and forth while trying to set a schedule

actually have the interview

and then do your assignment

Of course, you have to locate someone who fits your assignment. First, start with people you know: does anyone fit? Then, contact your friends and family, let them know the basics of what you need: person who does fundraising, someone who works in a nonprofit, someone who has managed people, etc.

If they know someone, one option is send them the email equivalent of an elevator pitch that they can then send to their contact:

Hi [friend],

For my [spinach husbandry] class I will be interviewing people who have experience [hiring spinach husbands]. The interview involves understanding the company’s culture and values, and how those affect the interview and hiring process. I have attached my outline, and expect the entire interview to last about 30 minutes.

The names, titles, and email addresses of people interviewed will only be provided to my professor and no one else inside or outside of class, nor will any of this information be published.

Interviews would be done by [phone/video] at [general time frame or dates]. Please let me know if there is anyone I can reach out to, and I’m happy to provide more information if requested.

Thanks,

Kayt

I usually suggested that my friend forward it with their own note (and in my cases, they had usually communicated with their acquaintance separately, so the acquaintance knew it was coming). That gets you a connection, and is less intimidating that having to initiate contact with the acquaintance-of-friend directly. But if that’s not possible, you’d want to adjust your email for the acquaintance (which means mentioning your friend as how you connected with them. Honestly, I’d google tips for emailing a friend of a friend).

I've found most people are legitimately happy to help, especially when they get to talk about a passion.

Be aware of timing, and that you may have to rearrange your schedule to accommodate theirs. If you're lucky, you'll have a boss like mine who is ok if you rearrange things. Otherwise, you might need need to take a meal break during the interview, or even skip class/claim an appointment during work.

I usually gave my people a preview of the interview, including at least a basic outline, because I wasn’t trying to surprise them, and they could prepare. I also provided an estimated length — mine tended to be 30-45 minutes.

Lastly, SEND A THANK-YOU. Definitely at minimum an email within 24 hours, but I also sent a brief handwritten note (with a $10 Starbucks gift card as well because why not) within a few days. It's small, but acknowledges their assistance and makes you look REALLY GOOD.

#felt like dying inside every time I had to do this because making those connections is UNCOMFORTABLE so I thought I'd write up my method #tips #grad school #college

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rubyleo-vibes · 3 years

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✨ Evans and his morning sweets nothings ✨

- RUBY’S DIARY-

Ruby’s note:

A couple weeks ago this situation came out of my mind while I was watching some Chris interviews and something else about him which a can’t remember the half of the things I saw,hear blah, blah. about him but suddenly my head was rolling with the idea and I couldn’t get over it for a couple weeks. Warnings: +18, smut, age gap, unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, mention of oral (female receiving), dirty talk, dady kink, body fluids, cum kink , and maybe fluff?

-•-•-

Since the time we met ten months ago, both going back and forth taking the first flight we find and only to expend time with each other, being nothing more than exclusives cause we’re not exactly looking for a serious relationship due our busy and demanding jobs and of course don’t forget the 16 years age gap between us (not really bothering us since the first flirt ), but acting like a real couple and not really being a real one, the way we being working on our “relationship” has been way much better than we expected.

Here I am, Wednesday early morning and getting ready for going to work and the thing is that I promised Chris that I would be doing home office during his time visiting me in the city where I currently live due my job, but a last minute call changed our plans for the day and thanks god he understood the situation.

Just like everyday since he arrived we woke up to make our morning routine but this time earlier than usual, going first to the gym at the same time that i usually go , letting Chris surprised how i was able to be an early bird when he perfectly knew that i'm not morning a person. I mentioned the night before that he didn’t need to start his day the same time as me and if he wanted to stay in bed more time I totally ge it, but like always he was the one of us in waking up first even that early morning.

At 4:45 am we arrived to the gym, pretending we came alone minding our business doing our workout and acting like if we didn't know each other when someone got closer as part of our plan in case someone would recognised him even with his face mask on and a cap, because our way to “spend time in public” was Chris checking me out every time he could and me being a shameless teaser.

Once back at my place, he stepped in the shower first while i was getting all my things ready for the day, changing the dirty sheets from the night before, now as part of the morning routine every time Chris is here, not because i like putting new and fresh sheets every morning but the messy activities we make every night along with our tiredness lazy assess and sometimes our body asking for a little more attention during the middle our sleep or in the morning before starting our day, so yes! It was necessary to replace the new ones, but don’t get me wrong i’m not complaining at all, I mean this became a reminder of the fun stuff we do and learn about from the other.

Once done with the bedding changing i let the outfit that a picked the night before in my bed and just in time when I was done with everything needed, a fresh and clean Chris walked out my bathroom greeting me with a cheeky smirk on his face while i was trying not get distracted by him walking in my room with a towel wrapped around his hip, his glorious tattooed hard chest with a few water drops rolling through his toned muscles, feeling his hand touched softly one of my arms getting my attention , his body close to mine and with a low and deep voice saying -“your turn doll”- and with that i found myself already clenching my needy walls with nothing around but with the sound of his voice.

By the time i was almost done with the final touches of my makeup, Chris whose presence was absent in my room since i finished showering, walked back to my room with two mugs on each hand and right in the moment he stepped in i saw through my vanity mirror how he closed his eyes taking a deep breath from the mix of the aroma of his perfume with my mine, his chest slightly grown before opened his blue eyes and one more time just like in the gym checked me out, losing his gaze in some specifics curves of my body, with a smirk on his face he was getting closer to me

-”here’s your tea doll”- hand me one the mugs, and while I was taking it from his hand I thanked him after I winked. He just nodded without leaving the smile on his lips and I didn’t notice but his eyes getting a bit darken when he felt my fingers brushed accidentally his hand.I took a sipt from the tea that he made for me, Chris knows that I prefer taking tea every morning instead of the common cup of coffee, so every time we are around from the other, at my place or his, never letring me down without morning favorite tea, and that kind of details was one of reasons i can’t help myself but just melting and get even more attached to him.

Instated of leaving my room he prefer to stayed right next to me, drinking his coffee quietly, facing me and leaning in the vanity table, feeling his eyes glutted on me, following every of my moves and after a couple minutes of comfortable silence he finally says- “you look beautiful today doll, you always do”- he said running his gaze over my outfit taking mental pictures of how good looks his favorite curves covered on my cream cropped cable knit sweater and the green pencil under knee skirt, my high heels allowing me almost been at the the same height than him, i smiled wide never leaving my eyes off from my reflect in the mirror fixing my low ponytail i said

-"thank you baby, you don't look bad yourself too"- and while i took my earrings to putting on, this time i turn my eyes to Chris and this time me doing the same thing he did with me before, I also took mental pictures of how hot this (my) man looks on formal clothes , with an air of Andy Barber in his outfit choice for the interview recording he was going to have later that morning.- “you really know how to wear this kind of outfits, i like what you did with the sleeves, told you it’d look great and way more relax but not too much for today’s interview, they gonna love it”- playing all the time with his shirt buttons, but he only let out a groan from his chest and closing the small gap between us that he left after brought me the tea, with one hand taking me by the small of my back pulling closer-

- doll, please… stop- he said, sounded desperate and squeezed my hip.

-what? what am I doing this time? literally nothing guapo!- I giggle for the tone he complained, trying to find his baby blue eyes with mine while I rest one of my hands resting on his chest . A deeper groan came out this time, and now both hands were placed almost under my cropped sweater, touching the edge of my skirt and little bit of my warm skin , he playfully squeezed my waist a little bit harder than before.

-Don’t play now like the innocent one here young lady. You know exactly what i’m talking about - he said finally looking in my eyes and this time i’m trying to read his gaze-

-“the second you woke up you’ve been non stop teasing me , you wore the pink tights that i love how your bum looks and you wore it on your leg day! Well played by the way , then after i showered you were looking at me with pleading eyes and just before you stepped into the shower you and your smart ass came out only wearing a pretty thong and your sweatie white top with nothing unederneath and you fucking adorable nipples casually greeting me , i bet you weren’t looking for anything isn’t? .- taking a deep breath before continuing his official greedy frustrated statement, feeling his hands pushing me even more to his body like if he was trying to make me feel him-.

-you always look amazing- he continued a little bit more relaxed but with darkened eyes- “but today… damn baby girl! you're stunning and this outfit is doing something more. And I see no panties lines or what are you wearing, missy ? oh oh plus! your sweet fragrance is driving me crazy , and all of that right in the day you need to attend an urge in your office and just leaving me here without our morning sweets nothings , waiting here long hours without even trying before at least a bit of you doll”- his hands now in my ass, squishing them harder.

I just stayed there with my heart racing , blood running faster through my entire body, feeling new beats in some places that I didn't know existed. Bitten my lip and a grin on my face, my hand placed on his chest slowly goes to his muscular shoulders and the free hand gives slight caresses to his beard, loving the feeling in my hand- “really?, I’m sorry babe, I was just doing my daily routine, I didn’t mean to get you in this state, but i’ll make it up for you once I come back from work, ok? ”- I said softly, calm and with my best innoce tone, my hand caressing his beard , brushing my fingertips every now and then through his lips while I slowly adjusted my hips feeling a pretty hard situation screaming for attention. I let out audible gasp and eyes and ears never losing a detail, pressing harder on our hips together , and shamefulness grinding his hardness covered in my needy core.

-”mmmmmhh of course you’ll have to make it up to me after work... “- i whimper when i feel he stopped moving his hips and his hands holding tight my hips to keep me steady, he chuckle at the when i was trying to get some friction- “...cause right now we have much time to worship you the way i want it doll- my skirt rolled up around my waist, his fingertips touching my burning skin,me breathing heavily waiting for more. His eyes widened and chuckled when he felt my undergarth - “oh oh oh! this is what you call panties doll?” - he said, grabbing the strips resting on my hips - “ well is a thong thou, and i don’t need an awful pantie line showing off”- i said with obvious tone - “oh sorry, a tiny thong that i can’t remember you wearing it or at least showing me before… ”- feeling his playful finger roaming my bum and hips, he leaned into my ear and feeling his hot breath in there- “also you’re lucky this is such a small peach doll and perfectly fits on this pathetic tiny piece of fabric that you were hiding away from me”- a sweet released moan came out of my mouth at the moment he cupped my cunt into his warm hand, rubbing his palm and squeezing tight.

sliding the thong to side his middle finger, he ran his finger between my lips without going further than that, my pussy began to feel slippery with the juices that could no longer resist being inside for any longer.- mmmmhh baby girl, all this for me huh?, you might be the brightest ruby, but I did not know that a gemstone could be juicy, oh it is true, I forgot that only I have the honor of making this gem in a sweet and soft little peach, so juicy and exquisite-

a small scream from my mouth came out in protest of more, his forehead was against mine - please! - I begged between gasps- “please what? Do you want me to put my fingers in and touch you? that you want? - He growled excited to see that he only nodded, giving me a short kiss full of lust - "mmm if you want, I can do that- sliding two fingers inside, he began to touching me desperately, pressing lightly on my little button making circles sore He, placing my weak legs with his caresses- "Damn, you're fucking wet ... I wish I could eat you whole, but we don't have time for that, you know I like to take my time when I taste you- without warning I take out his two shiny fingers for my sweets juices, without taking his eyes off me, he introduced his two fingers covered with my flavor to his mouth, sucking rigorously, he let out a loud moan, a loud pop when he finished tasting the nectar of a gem, a quick and agile movement, he changed places, He is facing the mirror and Chris was behind me, he pressed his hardness against my butt, I let out a moan of despair, I need him inside me stretching my warm walls.

Without removing his gaze from mine reflected in the mirror, and with his eyes full of lust, the sound of his belt rumbled in my ears and my centers got even more wet, under his closure, I bend over leaving my butt exposed for him, he grunted as he stroked my butt and squeezed it, I moaned when he spanked me a couple of times with his big hands- “I'm going to take what's mine and I want to hear those beautiful sounds you make when I'm deep inside you, did you hear me baby do? - I nodded. He felt his big and hard cock hitting when I took it out of his boxers, I felt desperate, everything was spinning and my pussy was a mess and it didn't even enter me.

I moaned loudly - "Yes baby, you feel incredibly tight, I love your little pussy, so perfect and good for me" - Chris entered me without warning, let out a pornographic moan, his cock was deep in me, he stayed still for a couple second, and then start moving uncontrollably, making us moan and beg for more.

-”oh daddy!, please make me cum, your cock feel so good”-i cried and moved my hips looking for more, Chris slapped my bum-” my baby girl so desperate for his daddy cock, so pretty and good for daddy… come on doll squeeze my cock with my sweet little pussy- his dominance turned me on even more and doing what he said- “aaaagggh, ye..yess doll, keep going, i’m gonna make us cum so hard, make a mess on daddy’s cock, give to me be a good girl a give me that slutty cum- Chris grabs my hips harder and pounded so hard and good that i was losing my battle and the dirty talk almost making come to the sweet release, i loud moan came out of me and, making a whole mess on Chris dick.

-”shit baby girl, that was so hot, i’m so close and this time you are going to carry me on that piece of fabric the entire day ok?- i without a warming i felt his cock twitching and milking him so hard, he groaned loudly and emptied himself inside me.

As a gentleman that he is, he helped me fix my clothes, my hair, makeup, but less to clean up his mess, he made me go to the office like that, I thought he would help me clean up, but no, besides being slightly late to the office He made sure I carried it in my panties .. I was so lost after that little show he wanted, Chris ended up taking me to the office, and the rest is another story.

---

Ruby’s note

sorry gems! but i need a moment, i know i could end better than that but uuuummmm i just couldn’t.

i feel fucking tingles.

Let me know what you think and show me your love.

say yes to reblog

#Chris Evans #chris evans smut #chris evans imagine #cevans

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cncoluv · 3 years

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CNCO Sleep Over Spring Break

Warnings: Fluffy

Setting: Four Seasons in Florida/Disney

Background: Thank goodness it is one day away from officially being spring break because I'm so sick of college right now. If I have to think about another advanced research methods class, my head will explode. It has been a crazy year and I have not talked to the boys that much between them being on tour and me having classes. I will call them after their shows and interviews every once in a while. But we all agreed that it has been forever since we have seen each other and that we need to spend time together since I have almost two weeks off of college and work. We all agreed that we should spend some time together during their tour in Florida since that was a place that I had not been to since I was young.

(Y/N)

We all agreed that another sleepover was absolutely necessary so we could revert back to being children again to sing and dance all over again and not have a care in the world. It was refreshing because I have not had a break or a fun time in a long while, and I am sure they need one as well with the constant touring. While packing my clothes for tomorrow, I decided that we would go to a fancy restaurant and it would be my treat. I am sure I am going to have to fight them since they do not like me to pay for all of them at once because they are stubborn. For the restaurant, I am bringing the most beautiful dress that I own, a deep purple dress with diamonds that gleam all over that in any light. The top of the dress has an off of the shoulder fit and it has leg slits on both sides that show your thighs, which is almost scandalous because it is very high up on the leg. It is a form-fitting dress so it shows off all of your curves in the correct way. You pick your 5-inch stiletto black heels to go with the outfit, and it matches perfectly, so you are super excited. You pick out your other outfits which are summer clothes mostly shorts and crop tops or tank tops with sandals or pretty dresses. You pick the first outfit that you were going to be wearing that next morning to see them which was a black and white checkered crop top with biker shorts and black converses.

When everything is packed and you wind down from the day you finally get to sleep, you get up early the following day, ready to go to the airport. You get up and get dressed to get on your flight, and you are wearing white shorts with a light and dark blue ombre crop top with white flip-flops. As you get on your flight, you are a little nervous, but you get over it pretty quickly because everything is going smoothly, and you are still excited to see the boys. You are slowly starting to come down off cloud nine by remembering you have feelings for one of the members, Zabdiel.

He was so shy and did not show his feelings that much to the rest of the world, but to you and his family. He was always bubbly and fun to be around; one of the last things you remember was the kiss he left you with. You thought about that kiss for a while after it happened because it was one of the softest kisses that you did not want to end. His lips felt like the light mist of cotton candy that touches your lips, leaving you wanting more. When you reminisce over the kiss and how he acted the last time you meet, you realize that Zab might have been slightly jealous. The kiss sealed the deal of how he felt about you and how you felt about him, and leaving so suddenly after might have changed that, so right now, there are more questions that you have to ask him.

(Richard POV)

I really wish (Y/N) would get here. I need to see her and miss her so much. I’m glad that she agreed to come and join us. We haven't talked as much this year but especially since the towel dropped. I am still super embarrassed about it, but we talked about it, and she seemed as if she was okay but I still do not fully know how she felt. I don't want to lose her as a friend because of it, so I want to make sure she is okay. But I know last time I tried to talk to her, Zab got upset because he has a crush on her. I don't want to get in the way that he is always so much happier when (Y/N) is around.

(Zabdiel POV)

I can't believe that (Y/N) will be here really soon. We have not seen her in almost one year. I missed (Y/N) so much, and I still have not forgotten about that kiss from last year; it was terrific. Her lips felt like smooth silk with just the slightest touch of soft and velvety flower petals, and I still remember the hint of strawberry that I tasted from her flavored lipstick. I still feel the same way about her and she makes me feel different than any other girl I have been with before. I just hope that she somewhat understands how I feel about her, if not then it will be hard to explain to her without embarrassing myself.

--- Skips to the next day---

(Y/N) POV

I am driving to Florida so I packed everything and headed out at 1 a.m. since it is an 8-hour drive and we want to spend the whole day together. I wanna go to sleep after this drive because so many people do not know how to drive. Like did they get their license from a freaking cracker jack box? But besides that, I had a music playlist setup and CNCO was the most of the songs. I liked their renditions of other songs from the Déjà Vu album. So that whole album was played about 3 times on repeat.

Once I got kind of close I was going to call the boys and let them know that I was only 45 minutes away from the Four Seasons at Orlando. When Richard answered the phone I heard Christopher laughing in the background which made me laugh. Then I told Richard I was only about 40-45 minutes away and he said okay cool see you soon (Y/N). I found it strange because he would normally talk to me for about 5-10 minutes before getting off of the phone. But I kept driving wondering why he ended the call so abruptly was it something I had done?

When I got there I let them know that I was outside and about 2 minutes later I saw them come outside the building. I went to hug the first person I had seen which was Erick, he had this adorable smile he looked different from the last time. He seemed more confident in who he was which was radiating off of him. Then I saw Joel had changed and had gotten more buff and had grown out his facial hair. He said, "I missed you”. You smiled and hugged each other.

When you look over you see Christopher and you both immediately start laughing at each other for no reason like normal. He hasn't changed much since the last time I saw him. He is still goofy and adorable and you hug him laughing. After laughing with Chris you look over to see Richard he looks at you and then looks down for a moment, you ask him if he is okay. He says yeah and you give him a confused look but you still hug him. Then you see Zabdiel, he smiles at me and stretches out his arms, and blurts out "I love you". Dead silence fell between the six of you, you stared at him and were about to speak he quickly turned and ran into the hotel. You are about to go after him but they tell you to wait a few minutes. You reluctantly agree and grab your bags, they help out but you ask Richard to stay back real quick to chat.

The other boys look but don't say anything, you ask him what is going on because he has been acting differently recently. He said in a higher pitch than normal "everything is okay'' you step in front of him and tell him to stop lying to you. He sighs and lets you know that he was still thinking of what happened last time with the towel. I reassured him that it was okay and for him not to be embarrassed about it and let's have a fun trip.

He smiles and you both shake on it and pinky promises not to bring it up again. Both of us are back inside and y'all are both starting to get into the elevator and he is asking how college is going. You tell him why you needed a break and get out of the elevator and he says "That sounds like a lot to do dang" you laugh and said, "so do you and the other boys, another album videos and choreography." He smiles and when you arrive at the Presidential Suite he gets the key card and puts it in the door.

It looked stunning and you marvel at all of the stuff that was inside, you smile but then and see all of the boys except Zab. You ask where he went and they said the room right there and all point at it even though the room is supposed to fit 2 people we made accommodations. I walked back there and asked Zab if he was okay. He just stared at me for a moment. He got up and walked towards me and as he was walking I could see a smirk starting to form on his face. When he came up to me threw me against the wall and kissed me…

Stay tuned for part 3!

#cnco #cnco fanfic #cncowners #cnco imagine #cnco fluff #christopher velez #richard camacho #joel pimentel #zabdiel de jesus #erick brian colon #cnco richard #cnco chris #cnco erick #cnco zabdiel #cnco joel

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marauder-exe · 4 years

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AU list!

hi! These are a bunch of Au’s that i could write,and you could request! (reposting because it didnt work the first time)

General

Fake dating (My personal favourite)

Soulmates

Coffee shop

Modern Royalty

Rockstar

Running From The Police

Rebel Against The Goverment

High School

University

Law school

Delayed-Flights-And-Were-Stuck-In-The-Airport-And-Its-Like-2Am

Roommates

Road Trip

Arranged Marriage

Im-Arranged-To-Marry-Your-Brother-But-Were-In-Love

Amnesia

Tattoo-Artist-And-Coffee-Shop-Worker

Loved-Since-Childhood

Professor-Student (of age)

Met-On-Holiday

More detailed

21.You were singing/playing guitar/etc. in the park to protest the war and a policeman tried to dismiss you for 'disturbing the peace' but you argued that you were promoting peace and things got heated and next thing you know you're being arrested for assaulting an officer. You intrigue me, so I'm here to bail you out and maybe take you on a date?

22.the nice one who everybody loves with the grumpy and strict one that the students hate and the students wonder?????????how what the fuck

23.we just had a one-night stand but a massive storm hit so now we’re snowed in, hello awkward

24. i sit at the rental booth at our local ice rink and watch you teach children how to skate

25. alternatively, i watch kids teach you how to skate because you’re a terrible skater

26. i’m running late to an important interview/meeting and you accidentally spill your hot cocoa all over my outfit

27. you’re my hot ski instructor and i’m failing the bunny hill

28. i slip on some ice and you’re the stranger who catches me

29. i gave my winter coat to a homeless person and come into your store to warm up

30. our friends rent a cabin to go skiing and we’re the only ones who stay inside

31. you’re the asshole of our group and we don’t get along, but then i find out you make soup for the local shelter

32.we’re waiting in line for the club when you complain that your roommate stole your gloves so let me warm your hands up with mine

33.my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and i’m so sorry

34.the power goes out in our apartment building, but i’m not prepared for this, and you come to check on me

35.i’m having a snowball fight with my friend in the park and i hit you instead

36.a storm is delaying our flight home and i’m afraid of thunder, please talk to me while we wait

37. we’re both in small claims court and i got into a huge fight with the person suing me but you stepped in to hold me back before security got there

38. i drove two hours to the closest video rental store that’s still operating and you were checking out the only copy of the movie i was after

39. i hit you with my car but luckily you’re okay, but we should still exchange information i guess

40. i was worried about buying something off of someone creepy from craigslist but oh no you’re hot

41. my friend talked me into playing a drunken game of spin the bottle even though we’re all adults and now we have to make out

42. we both decided to take a [yoga/fencing/cooking etc] class and we’re the only two assholes not taking it seriously and everyone else is giving us dirty looks but we keep grinning over at each other

43. my date just made a scene in public and got arrested and now i’m stranded in a city without a ride home

44. sharing a cab together

45. you’re trying to get me to sign a petition and i have no idea what you’re talking about

46. you’re drunk at this festival and dancing on the table and when you eventually fell i caught you

47. we both play this stupid game online and you keep beating me every single goddamn time so i called you out and you are pretty cute but can you not

48. im a bartender and you just came in here without shoes sat down and ordered a chocolate volcano and idk what the fuck that is and im scared to ask

49. we are neighbours and every night at 3:14 am you start yodeling for no fucking reason??? why???? is that you yodeling??? its been 2 months???

50.im a pizza delivery person and i just delivered a pizza to someone in the middle of a satanic ritual and they gave me their number???

51. i woke up this morning to find you sitting in my living room with a goat in a poncho??? who are you??? why is the goat wearing a poncho??? how did you get the goat in here i live on the 12th floor???

52. we work out at the same gym and you always look super legit but i know you sing hannah montana in the shower and you know i know

53. im a cashier and i saw you stuffing you pants full of potatoes and i would stop you but you already have 27 and i want to see how many you can fit

54. its 4 am and im drunk as fuck in a mcdonalds and you have been watching my trying to eat this burger for 30 minutes

55. i was playing beer pong with a coin and i accidentally threw it right into your eye at a party

56. i’m at the beach and some kids thought it was funny to bury me in the sand when i dozed off can you please dig me out

57. it’s unbearably hot and we’re both fighting over the last handheld electrical fan at the shop at the amusement park

58. hey i just met you, and this is crazy, but i get sunburned really easily so can you please help me put sunscreen on my back?

59. thunderstorm after a menacing heatwave and we’re both getting weird looks for dancing in the rain

60.i have no idea who you are but you just fainted right in front of me holy shit dude you need to drink more in this heat

61. we both chased after the leaving ice cream van like ten-year-olds and now we’re both out of breath and a bit embarrassed

62.i clearly reserved this deck chair by putting a towel on it why on earth are you lying on it who the fuck do you think you are

63. My friends bet I wouldn’t buy these three weird and questionable items and you’re my cashier.

64.Once a week I go visit the pet store just to stare at the cute kittens and puppies and you’re the nice employee who always lets me hold them and wait I think I’m going to cry hold on.

65.You’re the DJ of the University’s radio station and every time you give an opinion on a current event I have to call and argue with you because could you seriously be anymore wrong?

66.We both wait tables at the same restaurant and you’re always mad at me by the end of the night because I make more in tips

67.We have the same class and once a week you wear this graphic shirt I don’t understand and I really want to ask you about it.

68.We both work at the same craft store that literally has no customers so we have nothing to do and I’m always reading at the register but you always have to criticize my book choice what the hell?

69.I’m working the concession stand for this week’s home game and this is the fifth time you’ve come back for snacks wait are you flirting with me?

70. we’re at a bookstore and you and I seem to have similar taste in books have you read this one? How about this one?

71. you look like you need help and I’m a professional roller/ice skater but I don’t want you to feel bad about how much you suck but wow you suck

72. You ordered your food before me and they gave you a drink you didn’t want so you gave it to me

73. We’re sitting at adjacent computers in the library and I’m taking extra care not to look at your screen out of respect but what the fuck do you keep laughing at

74. as a joke I yelled out “happy birthday to someone!” in this store and you called back “thank you!” who are you

75. You heard me talking about a TV show in class the other day and now you’re passionately yelling at me about how good it is we’ve never actually spoken before

76. It’s 10:30 at night and I left my glasses at home so I can’t read any of these labels and you’re one of the only people in the grocery store and GODDAMMIT DO YOU HAVE ANY TOMATO SAUCE WITHOUT CHUNKS

77. We go to the same support group; I have social anxiety and you’re a kleptomaniac who sorta stole my heart

78. You thought you were alone at the bus stop so early in the morning so you started passionately singing Fall Out Boy but your Patrick Stump impression could use some work and I’m not really afraid to point that out

79. I’m an artist and you have a really nice face so would you mind if I drew you?

80. We’re rival up-and-coming singers and every time one of us releases a new single the other does a cover to try to make it better; we’re always trying to top each other and out-cute each other, but half our fans aggressively ship us; our agents use this to their advantage and decide we should do a duet because it’ll be popular; unfortunately now that we’re in the same studio and I’ve seen what you’re like I really wanna know what your lips feel like

81.PLEASE I REALLY CANNOT FIND MY CAT AND I KNOW IT’S THREE A.M. BUT NEIL CATRICK HARRIS AND I WOULD BOTH APPRECIATE THE HELP

82. We were both stood up for dates at the same nice restaurant so we decide to eat together and split the check but I dunno you’re pretty interesting aside from your distractingly enormous eyebrows

83. We met at a mutual friend’s cheesy masquerade party and we agree that the only good thing about this party is the masks so you can’t judge a book by its cover only now that we’ve been talking I want to see your face but I don’t know how to ask

84. You used to date my friend who absolutely hates your guts after a messy breakup and now you’re flirting with me and I really shouldn’t be so interested in you but I am

85.We pass each other every day while we’re biking on the same path so we’ve started smiling at each other and one day you’re stopped because you’re having an asthma attack so I offer you my extra water bottle and now we’re talking and now I’M the one who’s breathless

86.I lost my little sibling in IKEA and I need your help finding them

87.I'm a private detective hired to follow you, but you're endearingly boring and mostly I just like watching you and oops, I sort of find you adorable.

88. You've been sketching me for half an hour now, and just shuffled up to hand me the finished product and it's TERRIBLE but you just wanted an excuse to talk to me.

89. I'm at an art exhibit and I just badmouthed the art, because I don't get it, okay? And it turns out you're the artist. I'm so sorry, maybe I could get you coffee and you could explain what it was supposed to be?

90. We're the only two people who turned up to an underground gig and it should be awkward, but the band is amazing and you asked me to dance and hey, there's nobody watching but us.

91. You live in the apartment next to me. We're not supposed to have pets, but I KNOW you have a cat. I'll make you a deal, I won't tell, if you let me pet it.

92. I punched you because I thought you were insulting my friend, but it turns out you know each other and it was an inside joke and I'm so sorry, let me drive you to the hospital?

93. We both wanted to rent a bike for an hour but the only one they have is a tandem bike

94. I’m on a terrible date and you’re my waitor please help me

95.Our dick landlord just evicted us both

96.I’m your neighbor and I can hear you fucking someone who shares my name

97. You’re sort of famous and we vaguely know each other through bumping into each other all the time but the media thinks we’re dating

98. Your roommate cheated on me and I just threw your laptop out the window thinking it was his

99. It’s 2am on the night of my 21st birthday and we gotta fix this fucking mess by morning or else we’re fucked

100.Fuck you and your bee farm I’ve had enough

Feel free to use any of these as your own! If you wanna request you could drop an inbox saying ‘ could you do ____ AU with this character’!

#remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #lily evans x reader #cedric diggory x reader #regulus black x reader #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #hermione granger x reader

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sinceileftyoublog · 3 years

Text

Pitchfork Music Festival 2021 Preview: 15 Can’t-miss Acts

black midi; Photo by YIS KID

BY JORDAN MAINZER

While yours truly won’t be attending Pitchfork Music Festival this year, SILY contributor Daniel Palella will be covering the actual fest. If I was attending, though, these would be the acts I’d make sure to see. 5 from each day, no overlaps, so you could conceivably see everyone listed.

FRIDAY

Armand Hammer, 1:00 PM, Green Stage

Earlier this year, New York hip hop duo Armand Hammer released their 5th album Haram (BackwoodzStudioz) in collaboration with on-fire producer The Alchemist. It was the duo’s (ELUCID and Billy Woods) first time working with a singular producer on a record (though Earl Sweatshirt produced a track), and likewise, The Alchemist actually tailored his beats towards the two MCs. Haram is the exact kind of hip hop that succeeds early in the day at a festival, verbose and complex rhymes over languid, cloudy, sample-heavy beats, when attendees are more likely to want to sit and listen than dance. And you’re going to want to listen to Armand Hammer, whose MCs’ experiential words frame the eerie hues of the production. “Dreams is dangerous, linger like angel dust,” Woods raps on opener “Sir Benni Miles”, never looking back as he and Elucid’s stream-of-consciousness rhymes cover everything from colonization to Black bodily autonomy and the dangers of satisfaction disguised as optimism. (“We let BLM be the new FUBU,” raps Quelle Chris on “Chicharrones”; “Iridescent blackness / Is this performative or praxis?” ponders Woods on “Black Sunlight”.) There are moments of levity on Haram, like KAYANA’s vocal turn on “Black Sunlight” and the “what the hell sound is this?” type sampling that dominates warped, looped tracks like “Peppertree” and “Indian Summer”, built around sounds of horns and twirling flute lines. For the most part, Haram is an album of empathetic realism. “Hurt people hurt people,” raps Elucid on “Falling Out of the Sky”, a stunning encapsulation of Armand Hammer’s world where humanism exists side-by-side with traumatic death and feelings of revenge.

You can also catch Armand Hammer doing a live set on the Vans Channel 66 livestream at 12 PM on Saturday.

Dogleg, 1:45 PM, Red Stage

It feels like we’ve been waiting years to see this set, and actually, we have! The four-piece punk band from Michigan was supposed to play last year’s cancelled fest in support of their searing debut Melee (Triple Crown), and a year-plus of pent up energy is sure to make songs like “Bueno”, “Fox”, and “Kawasaki Backflip” all the more raging. Remember: This is a band whose reputation was solidified live before they were signed to Triple Crown and released their breakout album. Seeing them is the closest thing to a no-brainer that this year’s lineup offers.

Revisit our interview with Dogleg from last year, and catch them at an aftershow on Saturday at Subterranean with fellow Pitchfork performer Oso Oso and Retirement Party.

Hop Along, 3:20 PM, Red Stage

Though lead singer Frances Quinlan released a very good solo album last year, it’s been three years since their incredible band Hop Along dropped an album and two years since they’ve toured. 2018′s Bark Your Head Off, Dog (Saddle Creek), one of our favorite albums of that year, should comprise the majority of their setlist, but maybe they have some new songs?

Catch them at an aftershow on Saturday at Metro with Varsity and Slow Mass.

black midi, 4:15 PM, Green Stage

The band who had the finest debut of 2019 and gave the best set of that year at Pitchfork is back. Cavalcade (Rough Trade) is black midi’s sophomore album, methodical in its approach in contrast with the improvisational absurdism of Schlagenheim. Stop-start, violin-laden lead single and album opener “John L”, a song about a cult leader whose members turn on him, is as good a summary as ever of the dark, funky eclecticism of black midi, who on Cavalcade saw band members leave and new ones enter, their ever shapeshifting sound the only consistent thing about them. A song like the jazzy “Diamond Stuff” is likely impossible to replicate live--its credits list everything from 19th century instruments to household kitchen items used for percussion--but is key to experiencing their instrumental adventurousness. On two-and-a-half-minute barn burner “Hogwash and Balderdash,” they for the first time fully lean into their fried Primus influences, telling a tale of two escaped prisoners, “two chickens from the pen.” At the same time, this band is still black midi, with moments that call back to Schlagenheim, the churning, metallic power chords via jittery, slapping funk of “Chondromalacia Patella” representative of their quintessential tempo changes. And as on songs like Schlagenheim’s “Western”, black midi find room for beauty here, too, empathizing with the pains of Marlene Dietrich on a bossa nova tune named after her, Geordie Greep’s unmistakable warble cooing sorrowful lines like, “Fills the hall tight / And pulls at our hearts / And puts in her place / The girl she once was.” Expect to hear plenty from Cavalcade but also some new songs; after all, this is a band that road tests and experiments with material before recording it.

Catch them doing a 2 PM DJ set on Vans Channel 66 on Saturday and at an aftershow on Monday at Sleeping Village.

Yaeji, 7:45 PM, Blue Stage

What We Drew (XL), the debut mixtape from Brooklyn-based DJ Yaeji, was one of many dance records that came out after lockdown that we all wished we could experience in a crowd as opposed to at home alone. Now's our chance to bask in all of its glory under a setting sun. Maybe she’ll spin her masterful remix of Dua Lipa’s “Don’t Start Now” from the Club Future Nostalgia remix album, or her 2021 single “PAC-TIVE”, her and DiAN’s collaboration with Pac-Man company Namco.

Angel Olsen; Photo by Dana Trippe

SATURDAY

Bartees Strange, 1:45 PM, Red Stage

One of our favorite albums of last year was Live Forever (Memory Music), the debut from singer-songwriter and The National fanatic Bartees Strange, one that contributor Lauren Lederman called “a declaration of an artist’s arrival.” He’s certainly past arrived when you take into account his busy 2021, releasing a new song with Lorenzo Wolff and offering his remix services to a number of artists, including illuminati hotties and fellow Pitchfork performer (and tour mate) Phoebe Bridgers. Expect to hear lots of Live Forever during his Pitchfork set, one of many sets at the fest featuring exciting young guitar-based (!) bands.

Catch him at a free (!!) aftershow on Monday at Empty Bottle with Ganser.

Faye Webster, 4:00 PM, Blue Stage

Since we previewed Faye Webster’s Noonchorus livestream in October, she’s released the long-awaited follow-up to Atlanta Millionaires Club, the cheekily titled I Know I’m Funny haha (Secretly Canadian). At that time, she had dropped “Better Distractions”, “In A Good Way”, and “Both All The Time”, and the rest of the album more than follows the promise of these three dreamy country, folk rock, and R&B-inspired tunes. Webster continues to be a master of tone and mood, lovelorn on “Sometimes”, sarcastic on the title track, and head-in-the-clouds on “A Dream with a Baseball Player”. All the while, she and her backing band provide stellar, languorous instrumentation, keys and slide guitar on the bossa nova “Kind Of”, her overdriven guitar sludge on “Cheers”, cinematic strings on the melancholic “A Stranger”, stark acoustic guitar on heartbreaking closer “Half of Me”. And the ultimate irony of Webster’s whip-smart lyricism is that a line like, “And today I get upset over this song that I heard / And I guess was just upset because why didn't I think of it first,” is that I can guarantee a million songwriters feel the same way about her music, timely in context and timeless in sound and feeling.

Catch her at an aftershow on Saturday at Sleeping Village with Danger Incorporated.

Georgia Anne Muldrow, 5:15 PM, Blue Stage

The queen of beats takes the stage during the hottest part of the day, perfect for some sweaty dancing. VWETO III (FORESEEN + Epistrophik Peach Sound), the third album in Muldrow’s beats record series, was put together with “calls to action” in mind, each single leading up to the album’s release to be paired with crowdsourced submissions via Instagram from singers, visual artists, dancers, and turntablists. Moreover, many of the album’s tracks are inspired by very specific eras of Black music, from Boom Bap and G-funk to free jazz, and through it all, Muldrow provides a platform for musical education just as much as funky earworms.

Revisit our interview with Muldrow from earlier this year.

Angel Olsen, 7:25 PM, Red Stage

It’s been a busy past two years for Angel Olsen. She revealed Whole New Mess (Jagjaguwar) in August 2020, stripped down arrangements of many of the songs on 2019′s amazing All Mirrors. In May, she came out with a box set called Song of the Lark and Other Far Memories (Jagjaguwar), which contained both All Mirrors and Whole New Mess and a bonus LP of remixes, covers, alternate takes, and bonus tracks. She shortly and out of nowhere dropped a song of the year candidate in old school country rock high and lonesome Sharon Van Etten duet “Like I Used To”. And just last month, she released Aisles, an 80′s covers EP out on her Jagjaguwar imprint somethingscosmic. She turns Laura Branigan’s disco jam “Gloria” and Men Without Hats’ “Safety Dance” into woozy, echoing, slowed-down beds of synth haze and echoing drum machine. On Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark’s “If You Leave”, her voice occupies different registers between the soft high notes of the bridge and autotuned solemnity of the chorus. Sure, other covers are more recognizable in their tempo and arrangement, like Billy Idol’s Rebel Yell ballad “Eyes Without a Face” and Alphaville’s “Forever Young”, but Aisles is exemplary of Olsen’s ability to not just reinvent herself but classics.

At Pitchfork, I’d bet on a set heavy on All Mirrors and Whole New Mess, but as with the unexpectedness of Aisles, you never know!

St. Vincent, 8:30 PM, Green Stage

Annie Clark again consciously shifts personas and eras with her new St. Vincent album Daddy’s Home (Loma Vista), inspired by 70′s funk rock and guitar-driven psychedelia. While much of the album’s rollout centered around its backstory--Clark’s father’s time in prison for white collar crimes--the album is a thoughtful treatise on honesty and identity, the first St. Vincent album to really stare Clark’s life in the face.

Many of its songs saw their live debut during a Moment House stream, which we previewed last month.

The Weather Station; Photo by Jeff Bierk

SUNDAY

Tomberlin, 1:00 PM, Green Stage

While the LA-via-Louisville singer-songwriter hasn’t yet offered a proper follow-up LP to her 2018 debut At Weddings, she did last year release an EP called Projections (Saddle Creek), which expands upon At Weddings’ shadowy palate. Songs like “Hours” and “Wasted” are comparatively clattering and up-tempo. Yet, all four of the original tracks are increasingly self-reflexive, Tomberlin exploring and redefining herself on her terms, whether singing about love or queerness, all while maintaining her sense of humor. (“When you go you take the sun and all my flowers die / So I wait by the window and write some shit / And hope that you'll reply,” she shrugs over acoustic strums and wincing electric guitars.) The album ends with a stark grey cover of Casiotone for the Painfully Alone’s “Natural Light”; Tomberlin finds a kindred spirit in the maudlin musings of Owen Ashworth.

Get there early on Sunday to hear select tracks from At Weddings and Projections but also likely some new songs.

oso oso, 2:45 PM, Blue Stage

Basking in the Glow (Triple Crown), the third album from Long Beach singer-songwriter Jade Lilitri as Oso Oso, was one of our favorite records of 2019, and we’d relish the opportunity to see them performed to a crowd in the sun. Expect to hear lots of it; hopefully we’re treated to new oso oso material some time soon.

Catch them at an aftershow on Saturday at Subterranean with fellow Pitchfork performer Dogleg and Retirement Party.

The Weather Station, 4:00 PM, Blue Stage

The Toronto band led by singer-songwriter Tamara Lindeman released one of the best albums of the year back in February with Ignorance (Fat Possum), songs inspired by climate change-addled anxiety. While the record is filled with affecting, reflective lines about loss and trying to find happiness in the face of dread, in a live setting, I imagine the instrumentation will be a highlight, from the fluttering tension of “Robber” to the glistening disco of “Parking Lot”.

Revisit our preview of their Pitchfork Instagram performance from earlier this year. Catch them at an aftershow on Friday at Schubas with Ulna.

Danny Brown, 6:15 PM, Green Stage

The Detroit rapper’s last full-length record was the Q-Tip executive produced uknowhatimsayin¿ (Warp), though he’s popped up a few times since then, on remixes, a Brockhampton album, and TV62, a Bruiser Brigade Records compilation from earlier this year. (He’s also claimed in Twitch streams that his new album Quaranta is almost done.) His sets--especially Pitchfork sets--are always high-energy, as he’s got so many classic albums and tracks under his belt at this point, so expect to hear a mix of those.

Erykah Badu, 8:30 PM, Green Stage

What more can I say? This is the headliner Pitchfork has been trying to get for years, responsible for some of the greatest neo soul albums of all time. There’s not much else to say about Erykah Badu other than she’s the number one must-see at the festival.

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neverdoingmuch · 4 years

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I just really love Two Person Love Triangles and Identity Porn. So, maybe a You've Got Mail AU? Or a superhero AU when one of them falls for both the masked hero and the secret identity?

because i love both of these aus i’ve written both!! but they’re pretty long bc i wouldn’t be me if i didn’t plot out an entire fic so the superhero au is here.

as for the you’ve got mail au, i went off and watched the movie for the first time and i am delighted by your taste anon,,, the au works so well!!

(okay for some reason tumblr won’t let me indent my bullets so idk how to fix that so big rip)

so we have lan & sons books, a company that prides itself on providing cheap books for everyone to read. think less evil corporation and more we wanted to provide easily accessible books for all people and ended up getting really rich off it

mr lan dadman was meant to be in charge but he ran off and lqr stepped up until lxc was old enough to take over and now lqr just kinda assists lxc when he needs help and does some other work

lqr is definitely the old guy who had a letter thing with this one woman who was enchanting but instead he was chatting to cssr and she was shameless

anyway lwj works as *random high up job that joe fox has* and his best work friend (and real friend) is jin zixuan

jin zixuan is the heir to some coffee franchise and the two families have a deal which is why you have the cafe inside the bookstores

we gonna give lwj some friends

as for wwx, his mother owned a bookstore, the burial mounds (why did she name it that?? idk she probably told bssr that she wanted to call it that as a joke and bssr tried to call her bluff so she ended up having to call it that a la suibian)

anyway he grew up with his mother and grandmother and they left the store to him (idk what happened to them?? maybe they just retired and are now travelling the world while wwx gets to have the bookstore)

now for the actual plot!!

lwj and wwx met on omegle an instant messaging site and now exchange emails. wwx goes by yiling patriarch and lwj goes by hanguang-jun bc we want that flavour

so they’ve been emailing for years and they never share any personal information - wwx knows that hgj has a pet rabbit but not hgj’s name or his job

as for the significant others?? idk let’s pretend they don’t exist.

wwx’s best friend nhs, who writes a column for so-and-so, always just comes over to his place and now he’s semi moved in and wwx isnt really sure why he’s here but he is.

lwj just vibes bc i can’t see him putting up with a patricia unless his uncle forced him to. even then he’d probably just be ~mysteriously~ gone while she’s home

maybe he has a really annoying pa who thinks its his job to come over and like make him breakfast. it’s su she,, it has to be

so wwx goes into work one morning and wen ning is waiting outside as he always is, ready for him to open and then like ten minutes later wen qing comes in and lastly granny wen comes in

why do they work together?? idk?? granny wen and bssr were close and so the wens and wwx kinda grew up as siblings? yeah i like that let’s go with that

so when cssr decided to go travelling wwx gets left with her store and he kinda knows how to run it but also he doesn’t have enough staff so he ends up hiring the wens (except granny who’s mostly there just to hang out with her family)

bonus: a-yuan always come to the shop after school and wwx gets to recreate the childhood he had with his mother with a-yuan. when the store closes wwx and a-yuan just twirl and twirl until they get too dizzy to stand up and then they lay on the floor and discuss their favourite book they’ve read this week. it’s very sweet

okay so the next day lwj gets to babysit his cousin/uncle/nephew/idk-how-they’re-related-person lan jingyi who is like eight or something?

they go out and hang at a festival and lwj does not buy him a goldfish bc i was very stressed by the way they treated the goldfish in the movie but he does get him balloons and a stuffed toy and plays all the games with him

eventually they’re walking back and see that the small bookstore near the new lan bookstore is hosting a story time so they go inside

lwj walks in and he’s immediately taken by the atmosphere of the store bc that place was absolutely beautiful and then he hears this voice and follows it around to the back of the store to see the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen in his life sitting on a kinda too small chair with a princess hat? cone? thing on top of his head

he’d planned to stay for like one story and then take jingyi home but he ends up staying for the entire book and it’s definitely not because the guy reading the book smiled at him once or twice

after the story time ends, lwj is reluctant to leave so he ends up letting jingyi pick a bunch of books and looks at a few fancy first edition books with wen qing

and maybe his mother used to love collecting books - the old ones with the yellowed pages and beautiful pictures - and that’s why lwj helps out with his family business,, bc he wants everyone to be able to have books like that (never mind that all their books are like mass produced and lack any sentimentality & the staff dont actually care about the books)

anyway he sees wwx help jingyi pick out books and lets him borrow his handkerchief when he sneezes and lwj’s like oh nooo he’s good with kids too so now he has to talk to him

so he goes up to buy the books and wwx’s telling jingyi about how much he likes daisies and lwj just blurts out “can i ask what your name is?” and wwx blinks but then smiles and is like i’m wei wuxian, but you can call me wei ying, and i own this store. what about you? and lwj is like wangji, you can call me wangji

wen qing takes one look at lwj and the way he’s staring at wwx and goes you’re going to come back aren’t you and lwj is trying so hard not to just run away so he just ignores her but then she mentions something about lan books and he’s Panicking and jingyi almost says that he’s a lan and lwj just kinda guides him over to a table and then goes back to flirt talk with wwx

anyway wwx ends up going on this big tangent about books and what they mean to people and the whole when you read a book as a child it becomes a part of your identity and who you’re going to become the way nothing else does (and lwj remembers his mother and her books) and then he apologises for going on and lwj is mentally going marry me, but he ends up calling wwx and his mother shameless

but it’s okay!! wwx & cssr are proud of it!

and then yada yada lwj buys the kinda expensive books and ends up awkwardly shepherding jingyi out of the store

cut to the next day when the lan book store opens properly and lwj ends up telling lqr about how he met wwx and lqr is like >:/ the son of that shameless woman,, how terrible,, it’s okay he won’t be a problem for long bc they’ll be driven out of business. which isn’t the response lwj wanted but lxc seems supportive enough if a bit concerned about how it would work with them as business enemies

business is already bad for wwx and it’s barely been a week since the lan store opened and he’s pretty bummed out but hopeful that maybe it’s a fluke

then nhs invites him to some fancy dinner with him bc wei-xiong they’re all so boring and smart and have opinions, please don’t make me have opinions so wwx gets dragged along

he ends up talking to lwj at the bar bc how could he not talk to the man who’s standing in front of all that fancy alcohol and getting some fruit juice. (he’d get water but lwj has had to put up with su she all evening so he needs something stronger)

anyway they chat and it’s pleasant but then after wwx gets approached by someone who’s like wow im surprised you’re talking to lan wangji and wwx is like lan?!

cue their passive aggressive argument around the food table complete with caviar and a turkey knife.

now bc it’s lan wangji,, instead of making scathing comebacks he just makes like factual and to-the-point statements that end up being really bitchy (or does he intend them to be that way? it’s a mix of both of them tbh but in this case he’s definitely being bitchy on purpose) and wwx is spluttering bc that boy does not stand up well against hot and mad people

nhs ends up coming over and defusing the situation but wwx makes a point of stealing the rest of the caviar off lwj’s plate before leaving

lwj ends up ducking out early as well to avoid su she and emails wwx that night at like 9:45 bc the guilt of being so rude kept him up late and yllz is like oh no that’s so sad ): but impressive! i wish i could zing people,, my brain just turns off the second i need to make a comeback

creative liberties,, wwx is good at teasing but not being genuinely mean? lets go with that

anyway now we get the delightful montage of wwx hiding behind cheese displays and lwj walking out of coffee stores with a newspaper covering his face as they try to avoid each other

when wwx gets in the wrong line at the supermarket lwj comes over and kinda glares the checkout woman into submission and gets her to let wwx use his card which wwx is really conflicted about bc why would he help me?? and once again angry lwj = hot lwj

a few weeks later wwx ends up asking hgj for help bc business isn’t getting any better but refuses to give any details and i refuse to have lwj watch the godfather so lwj just straight up messages him and is like tear that bitch apart

and so wwx decides to tear that bitch apart and asks nhs for help. nhs, fan of the arts and small businesses and local culture, is 100% down for it and writes a scathing article about lan books and how they’re destroying all the aforementioned things nhs cares about

it ends up getting a lot of traction and people show up to protest and wwx even goes on television

lwj ends up seeing the news coverage on the matter while he’s at the gym with jzx

jzx is 100% the guy who goes to the gym just to apathetically walk on the treadmill while lwj jogs

he sees the interview with wwx and lwj is like he’s not this nice in real life and jzx is like you met him?? and lwj is like mn. then jzx is like i bet he’s not as hot and lwj is completely silent but his ears are bright red and that’s how jzx knows that wwx is just that hot

also?? lwj goes on tv and says like three words and he’s kinda annoyed how the news decided to spin that but he also said like three words so what did he expect?

but, despite all the publicity, sales don’t get any better so wwx is like fine can we meet in person and lwj is like sure

he brings jzx along bc he doesn’t know the way there, it’s not because he’s nervous and kind of in love with yllz, it’s because he doesn’t know how to get to the cafe. (it’s two blocks from his apartment)

anyway jzx is like oof man it’s seems like yllz is wwx but he is that hot so not all is lost and lwj is like yikes no not happening im not going in but he also feels bad about standing wwx up so he ends up going in and sitting down in front of wwx

and lwj is like wei wuxian, all this publicity will do nothing to save your business and wwx is like lan wangji who do you think you are (or however that scene goes) but instead of lwj being asked to leave wwx decides he’s not gonna chicken out first so they end up spending like two hours having the most aggressive cup of coffee and chat he’s ever had

lwj is exhausted but he also refuses to give up

but then wwx spits something about how lwj is some cold, heartless suit who doesn’t actually care about or appreciate books so how can he possibly dare to think that he’s better than wwx and that hurts bc lwj had thought that he’d been doing exactly that so he leaves

anyway the next morning wwx is moping around the bookstore bc he didn’t get stood up, he swears. am i not cute enough he moans to wen qing and she’s like your hgj doesn’t know what you look like. but what about my personality? is that cute enough? and wen qing eventually manages to grit out that yes it is cute enough

wen ning comes in and is like are you okay? you got stood up? that’s good! your date might have been the rooftop killer xue yang! he got caught last night! and wwx is like i wish, i just got stood up like a chump

so they ignore each other for a few weeks bc wwx is very hurt and lwj doesn’t know what he’s going to say but wwx ends up caving and emails hgj about how guilty he feels and how even though wwx probably means nothing to lwj, he’s worried that maybe he did hurt lwj and also please hgj i still want to talk to you

now hgj never says a lot, he’s always really succinct and direct but this time he takes the time to write a proper apology. it’s not an explanation bc he doesn’t want to give this up, even if the yllz he thinks he loves is the wwx that he hates, but it is an apology

the next day wwx goes to lunch with granny wen and finally dares to ask her whether it would be okay to shut the store down. he doesn’t want, of course he doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t think he can afford to keep it open. granny just tells him that it’s okay and that if the time has come, the time has come

we don’t have to worry about wwx breaking up with anyone, so he just goes home and asks nhs if he can have some space and nhs quickly packs his stuff and goes home. as he stands in the doorway with his last box of stuff he tells wwx that he’s sorry and wishes he could help more and wwx sends him this tremulous smile but manages to hold it together until nhs leaves and then he cries and cries

the next day he goes back to work and tries to stay bubbly and cheery even as he sees all of his shelves slowly being emptied and people who haven’t stepped foot in his store in six months are telling him what a shame it is and how they wish it didnt have to come to this and wwx is internally screaming

he manages to stave off any actual screaming but when he closes up that day he ends up going to the children’s section of lan bookstore and just as he had thought, none of the staff care about the books, none of them know any books and he ends up recommending a series to some young mother

lwj, who’d spotted wwx and come over to see if whether he was here to pick a fight, comes to the awful realisation that maybe wwx is right about his store lacking heart

he goes home that night and su she tags along even though lwj just wants space and the elevator breaks. he’s sitting there on the ground listening to his neighbour talk about reconnecting with family and the elevator button pressing dude talks about getting engaged and su she is just there whining about his job and the inconvenience and lwj goes fuck this. when the elevator starts working again he grabs his rabbit and goes back down to the ground floor, ignores su she’s shouts, and goes back to his childhood home

wwx gets stuck closing his store down. he looks around at the shelves and tables he’d grown up with and sees his childhood and a-yuan’s and countless moments he’s had with people he’s loved and realises he’s going to lose it all forever. he grabs the bell, the last thing he has left of the store and closes up for the very last time

in the meantime, lwj is living the high life. he hangs out with his bunny, gets to read pride and prejudice for fun and actually manages to get all the way through it and then his brother comes to visit

apparently he’d broken up with jgy bc he was gold digger-esque and had decided to run off with someone richer and lwj is like oh thats so sad ): anyway nmj is right there and he fills your heart with joy and lxc is like have you ever had someone like that? and lwj immediately thinks of wwx and is like fuck

his first order of business is to buy wwx’s shop bc it broke my heart that she didn’t get it back in the og movie and he starts filling it with books again. he buys ten copies of his mother’s favourite books and places them on the shelf by the door and then he sees a book that reminds him of jingyi so gets some of them and he sees a book covered in daisies and thinks of wwx. and slowly, slowly he’s building up his own library, his own store, and this time every single book means something and for once lwj looks out across the floor with pride and satisfaction

his second order of business is to apologise to wwx for being a dick. he buys some daisies and goes to his place and comes in and cooks soup for wwx. lwj apologises and tells him it wasn’t personal and wwx is like that’s not true, it was personal to me and it’s personal to a lot of people and lwj understands that now. he remembers the way he’d filled wwx’s store and left his own touch and bared his heart through each of those books and he understands. he doesn’t actually say this and just tells wwx that he wants to be friends

lwj considers coming clean about being hgj but he knows now that he definitely loves wwx and knows that wwx currently hates him but damn is it hard not to say anything when wwx is telling him how much he loves hgj

anyway he’s like organise a meeting again with hgj

i’d say it’s ooc for lwj not to come clean but this is the man who pined for x decades and just didnt tell wwx that his son was alive so like not ooc at all

so lwj decides he’s going to woo wwx as best as he can and organises to meet up with yllz and then goes and meets with wwx and they end up going to hang out and for some strange reason, even though wwx keeps getting stood up, he doesn’t seem to care too much. he keeps agreeing to meet hgj and when he doesn’t show is more than happy to spend the rest of his day with lwj

and slowly, they start to get closer. wwx takes a sip of lwj’s coffee and lwj buys him daisies. wwx brings him an interesting book and lwj tells him about his mother. they chat freely about hgj and lwj is happy for the first time in a long time

eventually lwj organises the final meeting. wwx is really confused about the place he picked but he’s hopeful that maybe this time hgj will show. after wwx and lwj’s farmers market date ends, lwj ends up asking wwx if he could love lwj and wwx is like you put me in such an uncomfortable situation. ie stammering and blushing and eventually going oh no ill be late and running off

anyway a couple hours later wwx finds himself standing outside his old bookstore and he refuses to look at it bc he doesn’t want to see what it’s become but then, through the open door of the store, a bunny hops out and over to wwx

lwj comes running out after it calling out its name (bichen?? flopsy?? rabbit?? one of them) and wwx looks up and is like oh,, it’s you, i’d hoped it was you and he’s all teary and lwj has a handkerchief that he’d embroidered himself (with gentians of course) and he’s like dont cry yllz and then they kiss and it’s beautiful

bonus: lwj takes wwx inside the store and shows him everything and explains the meaning behind every book that they’ve picked and then wwx does cry for real bc there is definitely an entire two walls dedicated just to wwx

do they open the store as a bookstore again and work together? does wwx end up writing books?? idk up to you. i like the idea that they open the store for story time and sell children’s books but lwj still works with lan & sons to get some heart in their stores and wwx works on his own books in his spare time

#Anonymous #mdzs #modao zushi #mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #cql #the untamed #asks #thank you so much for the ask i had a lot of fun making this!#let me know if you'd like anything else!!

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