#// the music one where Pete is !!!! is so very welcome | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rancidpancakebatter · 2 years ago

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Drop In-Chapter 1 [P.P.]

Pairings: Peter Parker x AFAB Reader

Summary: You like Peter, and Peter likes you. This should be simple, so why isn’t it? Well, maybe it’s because you were already friends? Maybe it’s the stress of senior year? Maybe it’s because someone had to get bit by a spider? Who’s to say?

Word Count: 4.5k words

Content: MINORS DNI: 18+ Swearing, Marijana Use, Underage Drinking, Bullying,

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Chapter Summary: Summer round-up, smoke sesh, and the first day of senior year

A/n: Hey besties! Welcome back! It's been a bit! I'm so excited to continue this story! I've got an actual plot mapped out this time around so that'll be fun :))

“Okay now, just snap your foot up. There you go! You got it!” You felt the shock in your bones as the board hit solid ground again. Peter cheered as you made your victory lap around him before hopping off and catching the trucks in your palms. You threw your hands up and Peter was quick to rush you, lifting you slightly off the ground as he did.

“Congratulations on your first kickflip! You are now officially a pro skater.” He held up a fake microphone, now putting on a silly announcer voice, “(Y/n), please, tell the people, what will you do now?”

You giggled leaning into his balled fist, playing along. “I’m going to Disney World!” You both began laughing uncontrollably, Peter’s head thrown back as you fell forward, your hand on his shoulder.

Peter has been giving you skating lessons for a few months now. You could monster walk, do tic tacs, a manual, pivot, an ollie, a push shove, and now a kickflip. It was all thanks to him. Many falls and scrapes had happened to get where you are but you were proud of yourself.

Peter Parker was your best friend. Being with Peter was so amazingly fun. You couldn’t remember a time without him. He was the sun and all the stars, a guiding light in the monotony of the world. You weren’t sure you would ever admit that to him though.

Your dynamic with Peter had shifted. You were still close but not as intimate. Hugs were shorter, kisses sparse. You thought it was strange. You stupidly blamed yourself, thinking you had been too forward. As his hand came up to meet your shoulder, stabilizing himself as he tried to rein in his laughter, you couldn’t help but relish in the touch.

His fingers felt so sure and you couldn’t help but think that’s where they belonged. They belong on your shoulder, on your face, in your hair, or carded between your fingers. You missed him, as ridiculous as that sounds. He was right here, right in front of you, but for the past few months, he felt so far away. You refused to dwell on it much longer, choosing to instead focus on his blinding smile, adorned with dimples and small freckles.

He slung his arm around your shoulder, “I don’t know about you but I’m hungry and I think Uncle Ben mentioned something about burgers for dinner. What do ya say we head back?”

You wrapped your arm around his waist, “I think that sounds great!”

You made your way to where you had parked your car and threw your boards in the back. You had saved up enough money to get yourself a beat-up ‘99 Honda Civic. The front bumper was black and the passenger door was navy blue, the rest of the car was emerald green. Peter affectionately called it the “shit box” but he did your oil changes so you didn’t complain.

You didn’t know much about cars but you were very excited that it had a cd player and the speakers were pretty decent. For Christmas Peter made you a mixtape of sorts. He had compiled a bunch of songs from his collection of music and put it on one CD for you, titled: Better Tunes for a Better Day. It never left your console, unless Peter brought something else into the car.

Peter was the first person you saw after you got it. Your dad helped you sign all of the paperwork at the shady dealership and waved you off. He teased you saying, “I’m sure you’ll be busy for the rest of the day, driving Ole Pete around.”

You were so excited when you pulled up to his house, a noticeable bounce in your step as you made your way to the porch. You knocked on the door and May answered, pulling you into a tight hug. She had become a mother, of sorts, to you. Always checking up on you, asking about school and work. She was such a kind woman and you appreciated her generosity.

She called Peter down and once everyone was there you broke the news, barely able to keep it in. Everyone followed you to check it out, Aunt May standing by your side congratulating you on the purchase, while the boys went to survey the vehicle. Uncle Ben commended you on picking such a reliable car while Peter began muttering to himself, trying to find ways to make it faster, more efficient, etc.

Driving around with Peter was fun if not a little distracting. He would point out random things he saw, before asking if you also saw them. He would fiddle with things in your car, one time he began reading the entire manual to you because “this is important information and I’ll have to quiz you later.” Mostly it was distracting because he was distracting. You found yourself, more often than not, more interested in what he was doing than the road.

You trailed behind Peter as he made brief small talk with his guardians before going upstairs to his room. After eight months of hanging out together, you had a bit of a routine. You would shut the door as Peter opened the closet, and then you would grab the lighter off his desk before opening the window and sitting on the roof.

Smoking with Peter had become a weekly ritual that you looked forward to because once a week whatever walls Peter had built after that Halloween party would crumble, ever so slightly. You drank in those moments knowing you would have to wait a whole seven days before getting another sip.

The two of you passed a joint lazily between each other. You would feel small sparks every time your fingers brushed. Your brain felt pleasantly cloudy after a few hits. It was July in New York. it felt like summer was fighting against the reigning winter as the temperature would fluctuate. Today was a pleasant 66 degrees with a little cloud coverage. You watched as they passed overhead, trying to find shapes in the stringy cirrostratus.

Peter chuckled at you when you moved your hand toward him, “The blunt’s done, my guy.”

You pouted as he put the roach in a glass jar with other paraphernalic debris, which you referred to as the ‘Ghost of Weed Past’. You went back to gazing at the clouds, feeling just as weightless as them. Peter stretched, his hands pulling far above his head, and you tried not to stare at the bit of stomach that poked out underneath his tee. He let out a content sigh before laying down, his head on your lap.

Peter flashed you a lazy grin and your breath caught in your throat. He was so beautiful like this. Completely at peace, no worries of his guardian’s financial woes, no school, no bullies, just him and you, safe on the rooftop. You brought your hand to his forehead slowly pushing back the curls that resided there, bathing in the light of his smile. He closed his eyes at the contact, letting out another relaxed sigh as your fingers massaged his scalp.

You let yourself be swept away in the moment. You allowed the fairies in your brain to spin you a tale of gold. They told you that Peter loved you, that he was your boyfriend, that he didn't need to be high to show you affection, that nothing had changed and you guys were fine.

The fairies danced and jived, effectively shutting down any reasonable thought. Anything that would tell you that it wasn’t healthy to let yourself live in that delusion, anything that told you you were breaking your own heart, because here he was smiling at you, and that couldn’t be wrong.

“You should learn how to play the fiddle.” Peter opened one eye, peering at you between the gap in his fingers that he brought up to block out the sun.

“Why?” You scoffed at him. How is it that he couldn’t follow this completely rational train of thought?

“Because you’re Jewish.” Peter turned, his chest now facing you, his head held above your lap.

“I should learn to play the fiddle…because I’m Jewish.” Peter was a very expressive person and in these months (not actually) together you had been able to read almost each one.

Right now he was giving you the, ‘You seem to think you’re right but in this moment I believe myself to be much smarter than you and I can’t comprehend how you could ever think you’re right.’ It was an almost blank expression, the only sign of emotion coming from a slight twitch on the left side of his mouth.

“Yeah! We’re on your roof a lot, you’re Jewish, you should learn the fiddle.” Peter continued his stare.

“I don’t see the connection.” You huffed removing your hand from his hair to lean back on your palms.

“It’s like 'Fiddler on the Roof'! You could be the fiddler on the roof!” Peter started laughing and you joined in, not sure you got the joke but laughing all the same. His hands flew to his gut as his legs curled into his body, wheezing. You started to fall forward, unintentionally cradling his head in your body.

“That was so racist!” You couldn’t stop laughing.

“No, it’s not! I just think it would be funny!” Whatever restraint he had to stop laughing was broken and he started laughing again, twice as hard.

“Racist movie, racist reference, ergo, racist you.” You were laughing too hard to respond, as was Peter. After what felt like ages your chuckles died down.

“Is ‘Jewish’ a race or religion?” Peter looked to the sky, deep in thought.

“I guess it’s kinda both. Cause like, in World War II, Hitler was like ‘You can tell a Jew by their big nose’ right? But then, like, actually he just meant ‘you can tell an Israeli from their big nose.’ But since then people are like ‘Jewish means Isreal’ which isn’t wrong per se, but also not right. It’s like rectangles and squares. Every Israeli is Jewish but not every Jew is Israeli.” You let out a puff of air.

“Woah, that’s kinda trippy to think about.” Peter nodded letting out a quiet, “yeah.”

“So which are you?” Peter chuckled before answering.

“I’m not sure, I’m kinda Jewish by default. I’m not sure if May’s family is from Isreal or if somewhere along the line someone converted. Either way, we love a good Mannorah.” laughter overtook the conversation once again, fairies happily flitting about both of your heads.

You both stayed in the quiet. You weren’t sure how much time had passed but you were starting to come back down, so realistically about an hour. The world slowly began to get heavier as did reality. Peter’s head suddenly had weight in your lap, you fought back and forth between moving him and letting him stay.

“We’re gonna be seniors soon.” Peter’s voice startled you slightly, as did his sudden revelation.

“Yeah,” was the best you could muster up for a response, taken aback by his sombre tone.

“Soon we’re gonna have to plan out the rest of our lives, with no idea of what that might look like.” You stayed silent, unsure of what to say. You decide to bring a hand back to his hair, hoping the light scratches might comfort him.

You heard a knock on the door and Peter made no effort to get up. You opened the window, the smell of weed long gone, and beckoned them in. You were greeted by Ben’s smiling face on the other side of the door.

“Hey kiddos, the burgers are almost done. (Y/n) is your dad joining us tonight?” Your smile grew as Ben continued. He loved your dad, said he was wise beyond his years, which always made him chuckle. Ben was such a kind man, he cared so much about his family and had joked about adopting you into it. You were honoured to be someone he cared about.

“No, not tonight. Maybe next week though, I’ll be sure to ask.” Ben brought a hand up, dismissively waving it around.

“No, no, that’s okay. I’m sure he’s a busy man. You just be sure to let him know that he’s always welcome.” You told him you would and he stepped back out, you didn’t miss the fact that he left the door cracked, ever so slightly. You patted Peter’s shoulder, telling him you needed to head downstairs for dinner. He left your embrace begrudgingly, hopping up and putting the jar back in his closet.

Monday morning you were at Peter’s house ready to go by 6:45. It was the first day of school and you refused to be late. You didn’t know what the traffic was going to be like and you also knew who Peter Parker was. He was someone who was chronically late or, maybe, exactly on time. You told him yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, that you wanted to leave at seven. He agreed each day and every time you brought it up, but his seven is seven-fifteen at best.

Ben answered the door and ushered you in. He complimented your outfit and wrangled you into the kitchen where Aunt May was fixing breakfast. She stepped away from the hot stove to give you a hug before directing you to the chair Ben had pulled out for you. You loved seeing the Parkers excited about something. They run around, joyous chaos guiding their movements.

A glass of orange juice was sat in front of you and you put your backpack on the floor next to you as you got settled.

“(Y/n), are you excited, sweety? It’s senior year!” You chuckled at May’s enthusiasm, your eyes darting to the staircase periodically.

“Yeah, I’m pretty excited. I don’t think it’s really sunk in yet.” May gave you a sweet smile, one that told you she understood what you meant.

Ben clapped your shoulder before going to the stairs, “I’ll go see if Pete’s up yet.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes “I told him I wanted to leave at seven.”

A few minutes later Ben assured you he would be down soon and kissed his wife on the cheek on his way out the door, he made sure to wish you luck before leaving. May had already plated breakfast, a healthy portion of eggs and toast sitting in front of you.

You heard heavy footsteps on the stairs and looked to see Peter Parker clomping down the steps. His backpack was open and his hoodie was only half on.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the man of the hour,” May said with heavy sass.

Peter said nothing as he kissed her on the cheek taking his plate. He sat next to you, kissing your temple before digging in. Your stomach fluttered to life at the seemingly casual display of affection in such a domestic setting. Peter, half asleep, didn’t seem to think anything of it. You were grateful Ben wasn’t here to comment on the obvious tension.

You were lost in thought, only snapped back to reality when Peter nudged your shoulder. Your head snapped up and he snickered at you. “I asked if you were finished, space cadet.”

You stuttered out a “yeah, sure” and Peter took your plates to the sink. You grabbed your things and May wrapped you in another hug. You were on your way out the door when May gasped grabbing both of your attention. “Peter! Go grab your camera we need to take a picture.”

You checked your phone for the time and bit back a sigh realising you were already ten minutes behind schedule, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell May no. Peter returned and handed his aunt the camera. She directed you closer to Peter, getting a few shots of you both together before taking some solo pictures. She waved you out the door promising you that your father would get the photos.

You started your car and began driving towards the school. Your CD automatically started playing and Peter turned it off before searching through his bag. You whined at him and he waved a plastic square triumphantly in front of your face.

“These songs represent all that is good and fun: the summertime. And while I enjoyed our summer together it’s time to move forward” You chuckled at his obviously planned speech and he continued. “Here I hold the soundtrack to our new adventure: The Last Fall of our Youth.”

You wrinkled your nose, not taking your eyes off the road. “Sounds kinda morbid.”

Peter let out an offended snort, “It is not! It’s a fact. This is the last fall we have before we are legal adults. It’s also like we’re ‘falling’ out of our youth. It’s a double entendre!”

You laughed as he replaced the CD, “That’s not what that means.”

Peter simply turned up the volume, drowning you out. ‘No Way Down’ by the Shins fills your speakers as you make your way to school. You arrived twenty minutes early much to Peter’s dismay but you told him you would jam out for another ten minutes and that seemed to satiate him. ‘Fell In Love With a Girl’ by The White Stripes started playing and you giggled as Peter began strumming an air guitar and whipping his head around.

Your new mantra was “Don’t let it get to you.” You started this mantra about four months ago. Peter had seemingly disappeared from your life for five weeks after Halloween. It broke your heart. You thought that maybe there was something there but his sudden absence left you confused and angry. Why would he string you along and then just leave? You couldn’t even say he just used you for sex because you guys didn’t even have sex.

He would walk you to class but he seemed farther away, your fingers felt cold out of his hands. He started calling you “bro” and “dude” more often. He was awkward around you now. Well, more awkward. But he didn’t leave again. After a few months of beating yourself up and driving yourself crazy trying to read into everything Peter did, you decided it wasn’t worth it.

So you refused to think about how cute he was, how his boyish charm melted your heart and warmed your soul. You refused to think about the song that was playing. You refused to think about whether or not Peter was serenading you as he stared into your eyes singing every word. You wouldn’t let it get to you.

Peter and you received your schedules in the mail a few weeks ago and you immediately compared them. You had tried to sync them up as much as possible and were anxious to see if it had worked or not. Out of six classes, Peter and you shared four. You both high-fived, excited to see you both had the same lunch schedule too. This year didn’t seem so scary knowing you would have your best friend there by your side.

You made your way to your Homeroom, not yet having lockers and took a seat next to each other. While the teacher began droning on you listened intently while Peter rested his chin on his arms crossed over his desk. He hadn’t been sleeping well lately. He kept having weird dreams that he couldn’t remember when he woke up. He could piece together little snippets, something about his parents, flying in the city, finding out he has brothers. All very annoying.

You and Peter now took turns packing lunch. Peter had slipped to May that you had fed her nephew for a year and she insisted on splitting the task. Today May had packed some deli-like subs with a homemade dipping sauce. Both you and Peter had theorized about its ingredients but May refused to cough up a recipe.

Peter finally joined Yearbook. It took a lot of convincing and minimal bribery but he eventually relented. Mr Carter was excited to have a new addition, even if it was just for one year. On the first day of school, Mr Carter always went over the major events planned for the year, the equipment renting policies, and brainstormed for the yearbook's theme.

You wanted to pay attention but you had much bigger fish to fry. Peter’s birthday was in three days, this Saturday. You had originally gotten him two tickets to see Mumford and Sons at the Forrest Hill Stadium but the other day you started talking about them and Peter said he wasn’t a fan.

You knew realistically if you handed him the tickets he would be overjoyed because you had given him tickets to a concert. You wanted to get him something he would absolutely love though, but also you didn’t want to spend too much on him because for Hanukah you got him a “real” gift for every day and he said it was too much.

You only turn seventeen once and you wanted your gift to be special because he was special. You took out your notebook and began writing down everything you knew about your best friend to see if anything came to mind: smart, funny, skates, likes science books, zip up hoodies, nice smile, kind.

You hadn’t noticed Peter looking over your shoulder. He read this list of odd features with a puzzled look. He wasn’t sure who you were describing until he saw ‘Named after a religious figure not in his religion’ and faked a cough to cover up his laugh. He tried not to let his ego inflate as he realised you could only be listing his qualities. However, his comical disposition quickly turned into confusion. Why were you describing him? Were these good or bad things you were listing? He hoped they were good as you were quickly filling up the page.

Your task ran away from you, soon you had all but forgotten this list was meant to help you find a gift. You got lost in thinking about Peter, the curly-haired dork you had somehow become so attached to. You kept going, your goal shifting into filling the whole page. You were scribbling away frantically when your concentration was broken.

“(Y/n), you’re awful quiet today. Do you have any thoughts on next week’s prep rally?” You flushed looking up and seeing Peter’s gaze on your paper. You looked at the board, slyly moving your hand across the page, blocking Peter’s view. You weren’t sure how much he had seen but he didn’t need to see anymore. You cleared your throat.

“What if we made the spirit week themes a contest, the prize being your picture in the yearbook? Anyone who wants to participate can come here during fifth period and we can weed out the bad ones and vote on the best.”

Mr Carter eyed you suspiciously before writing down ‘Contest’ on the board. He knew you weren’t paying attention but your idea was good so he couldn’t be mad. Peter shot you a smile and you heard Trevor somewhere in the room tell you it was a “great idea”. You thanked him before returning your notebook to your backpack. Obviously, you were not nearly as discrete as you believed yourself to be.

After school, you drove Peter and You over to your spot. Peter hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what you were writing. You had filled three-quarters of the page with something about him. Taking a quick scan he was able to see a few words: cute, board, science, music, high, nose, funny, curls. Most of the words he saw were objective but there were enough positive adjectives that made him think that maybe, just maybe, you still liked him.

After all this time he hadn’t really pushed you away. After seven months of trying to distance himself, you hadn’t left but you also hadn’t pushed him. The feeling brought butterflies to his stomach, but these butterflies had switchblades tied to their wings. Bringing both a ‘warm and fuzzy’ feeling but also a ‘panic-inducing sense of peril’.

You both enjoyed skating in the late afternoon sun. Peter always gave you space to practice your tricks, only giving critique when asked. Eventually, you would sit down and watch as Peter did jumps and flips over different things in this warehouse-esk building. Once you watched as he stacked pallets and some metal sheeting creating a mini ramp. You also watched as it fell apart with him on it and he tumbled to the ground.

You didn’t get to stay long as you had work. You dropped Peter off at home and changed into your uniform shirt in his bathroom. He bid you a good day at work and you punched his shoulder in acknowledgement.

Not much had changed around the Ole Queens Centre Theatre. You got a new co-worker over the summer. He introduced himself as ‘Mags’, you think he was joking but he never gave you anything else to call him. Mags was a year younger than you with shaggy brown hair, standing at five-eight. He was pretty chill, he kept to himself and did his work, so you couldn’t complain. You knew he liked video games and had a dog, his mom dropped him off at work and he would tease you every now and then for going to a “smart people school”.

Nine o’clock came sooner than you expected, your shift flying by. You sent a text to your dad to let him know you were on your way home before starting your car. You opted to drive in silence, the newness of Peter's mixtape was still distracting and it made you think of him. You knew, either way, you would think of Peter. It seemed it didn’t matter how hard you tried to untangle him from your subconscious, his words and actions would grow new vines and barbs to trap you with.

You threw your backpack on your floor before collapsing onto your bed. All in all, senior year didn’t seem like it was going to be so bad. Most of your classes were easy and for the ones that weren’t, you had Peter to help you through.

You got dressed for bed and heard a knock on the door. It was your father, he held a plate of assorted fruit and a sandwich. He sat with you on your bed insisting that you eat while you tell him all about your day. You told him about your classes and how excited you were. You told him about all the books you needed for class and how you couldn’t wait to read them, while your dad just smiled.

He didn’t comment on how much you mentioned Peter, he didn’t comment on how you didn’t seem as ecstatic as you usually were when talking about him. He did notice. He noticed how these past few months you seemed a little defeated. He noticed how you smiled less and you seemed to be a little more reserved than before. But he didn’t know how to approach it, scared he might make it worse. So he just listened, to anything you would tell him, to the things you wouldn’t. He was there and he hoped, for now, that was enough.

Tag List: @andrews-lovr @brinaslittlefreak @drunkangels @ilovemoonknight @negasonic-teenage-asshole @preciousbabypeter @princesskittycatofmeowland @rudy-the-winged-wolf @whoreforklitz

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badassbabeparker · 2 years ago

Note

prompt 30 from the list with peter parker 👉👈

Thank you for requesting! I'm spending the day watching Christmas movies so please feel free to send more! This was very cheesy and very fun to write. It doesn't follow canon MCU events though.

wc: 1k

“Pleaseeee.”

You sighed and looked up from where you had been baking cookies to be met with the famous Peter Parker puppy dog eyes. He knew they were your kryptonite.

“Pete, couldn’t you have picked a less embarrassing sweater to wear?” You giggled and continued to cut out your Christmas cookies in the shape of different avengers wearing Santa hats. Peter’s choice of cookie cutter.

It was your first christmas together in your new apartment and Tony had invited you to his regular christmas party at the tower. You were excited to see Peter’s old room that was still there from when he had joined the Avengers as a teenager and he was just as excited to introduce you to the team. A little too excited.

Peter had brought you matching sweaters for the occasion, a cute thought if it wasn’t for the light up red noses and the melody of jingle bells that rang out if you pressed a button on the sweater. In short, it was worse than a stereotypical cheesy Christmas sweater.

“I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of the Avengers!” You pouted after placing your cookies in the oven, making a pleading face towards your boyfriend. Peter walked over and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your head.

“I promise you won’t. You should see Thor’s Christmas jumpers!” Peter laughed and played with your hair, smiling as you giggled. “Plus I’ll make you hot cocoa when we get back and we can order Chinese food.”

He knew you too well.

“Fine. Go get the sweaters.” You sighed playfully, a smile playing on your lips as Peter practically jumped for joy and ran to get them. Your boyfriend was such a dork but you loved him very much, so much so you were willing to wear an atrocity of a sweater for him.

Once you were both ready, sweaters worn in all their glory, you both made your way to the tower in a car that picked you up. The driver was a familiar face who laughed as soon as you both entered the car.

“What are you two wearing?”

Happy Hogan turned to look at you both in the back seat and raised his brows, an amused smile on his face. Not that he should be surprised anymore, knowing Peter.

“Christmas sweaters!” Peter cheerfully replied, gaining a giggle from you as you took his hand. Happy just shook his head and started to drive.

You cuddled into Peter’s side on the journey, trying your best not to feel too nervous as Peter busied himself with pointing out the beautiful decorations that lined the streets. He soon noticed you were quieter than usual and kissed your head.

“You okay princess?”

You looked up at Peter’s kind smile and nodded, already feeling more relaxed. “Just a bit nervous I guess.”

“They’re gonna love you.” Peter pecked your lips and told you not to worry, stroking your hair. It was a gesture that always made you feel better, plus the promise of one of Tony’s famous hot chocolates that you had heard so much about.

As you pulled up there was no mistaking you were at the right place. The tower gleamed with festive cheer from top to bottom and you could hear music playing from the tall building.

Peter held your hand as you walked in, taking the elevator to the correct floor and putting on your best smile despite the reminder of the terrible sweater you were wearing.

Festive cheer welcomed you as soon as the elevator door opened, a giant Christmas tree stood in the middle of the foyer and decorations hung on every available surface as holiday music filled your ears.

“Well if it isn’t Rudolph and Comet.”

You could have recognised that voice from anywhere. Tony Stark came to greet you, wearing an Iron Man Christmas sweater and a pair of festive glasses. Peter and him exchanged a hug which triggered the tune of Jingle Bells to play from Peter’s sweater.

“Very festive. Let me guess your idea Pete?” Tony laughed and patted Peter on the shoulder as he nodded before turning to you. “It’s nice to finally meet you Y/n, we all had bets on if you were real or not. I just won 20 bucks.”

Peter blushed bright red, matching the shade of his jumper and laughed sheepishly. You awed and kissed his cheek before shaking Tony’s hand.

“I assure you I’m very real and it’s very nice to meet you Mr Stark.”

He insisted you call him Tony but it was almost instinct after hearing Peter call him Mr Stark all this time to do the same. Everyone enjoyed the cookies as you put them on the snack table, some even posting selfies of them with their own lookalike cookie.

Peter nudged you whilst you were talking to Natasha and pointed out Thor who was wearing a bright green jumper with a 3D elf on it that jingled as he walked. His brother, Loki, had obviously been forced into wearing a green Grinch jumper which matched his own sullen expression.

When you finally got a moment between the two of you as everyone settled down for a drink of hot chocolate or stronger for some, Peter snuggled into you and whispered gently into your ear. “I told you they’d love you.”

And sure enough all of the team had been lovely, poking polite fun at your sweaters and sharing a joke or two about Peter finally having a girlfriend who went along with his ideas. Both of your cheeks were well and truly scarlet by the end of the night.

“You know what?” You nudged Peter as you finally got back home, feeling a bit more merry and tipsy than when you had left. Peter hummed in response and nuzzled his cold nose against yours, becoming sappy when he was tipsy.

“I love my sweater.” You giggled, pressing the small button that let Jingle Bells play as the nose lit up. Peter laughed as he pressed his own sweater too and kissed you happily.

tags: @glowunderthemoon @the-girl-in-the-chair @spideyspeaches @parkersdahlia @seolaseoul @love-peterparker

#taglist in pinned post #fanfic #christmas blurb #peter parker x reader #peter parker #reader insert #mcu!peter parker x reader #mcu #marvel #mcu!peter parker #Christmas #requested #cookie 🍪

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sukirichi · 4 years ago

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Breakfast for Choso with ingredients #17 and 34 with #2 sugar? Wine is optional.

EASY

— Nothing is ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d push through hell and back.

meal order: breakfast + 17, 34 (fake dating, rentboy au) + 2 (enemies to lovers) + biting, scratching, choso eating reader out, sex on the beach

warnings: mature content, unedited fic, choso is mean and harsh when he’s angry

notes: thank you so much for this anon! I really enjoyed writing this and this totally made my day. I hope you like it!

word count: 10k+ LOL CHOSO BRAIN ROT

check out the fanart @tigressnej-chan made, it s so beautiful HURRR

Your day was absolutely ruined. Dark, deep bags covered your under eyes as you stormed through the convenience store downstairs your apartment, body clad in an oversized hoodie and socks visible through slippers, hair greasy and lips chapped. You’re aware you look like a mess, but did you care?

Absolutely not, especially when you haven’t been sleeping well the moment you moved into this cursed apartment because of a certain fucker.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. That specific fucker – the cause of your ruin and the devil who prevented you from living a good life – waltzed inside the store, the small bell chiming to signal his presence. You scoffed at his confident, suave walk, further irritated because he just had to be insanely attractive – in an alternative, laid-back kind of way.

He wasn’t even your type; you preferred more refined men who wore pressed suits and leather shoes, but you had to admit this man was insanely attractive.

With deep, sunken eyes, a dark tattoo across the bridge of his nose and dark hair twisted into twin ponytails, large, muscular body covered in a black sweatshirt and a red scarf – he looked very much like a former member of a gang who retired because their barbaric ways wasn’t his thing. It was an odd theory, and you sat there at the corner of the store, glaring at the man who tiredly pressed the coffee maker machine for a dark roast.

As if feeling eyes on him, his lazy eyes slid over to yours, and almost automatically, one corner of his lips tilted up in humor. This fucker knew how much he annoyed you, and he only further pushed your buttons by walking over to you, the steam of his coffee nearly blocking your gaze.

“Good morning,” he greeted sarcastically, well aware that it definitely not a good morning for you.

“Have fun last night, neighbor?”

“Yes.”

“Jeez, you won’t even bother denying it?”

“I see no point in it,” he invited himself by sitting next to you, long legs crossed over his muscular thigh. You found yourself staring at how he seemed so firm even in loose sweatpants, averting your gaze and staring at your soggy ramen noodle cup instead. “And you’re not trying to hide the fact you’re listening, either.”

“I wasn’t listening!” you slammed your fist down the table – he didn’t even flinch, only continuing to sip his coffee as if you weren’t burning in anger beside him – as you hissed, “The walls are too damn thin and you’re so fucking loud.”

“No, I wasn’t. She was loud, though.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms against your chest. He really was shameless. You already knew this man didn’t have enough shame in his body, but you didn’t think he’d have absolutely nothing.

Upon witnessing your stupefied state, he reached over to knock at your skull. “Still there, princess?” you cringed at his nickname for you; you didn’t even know this guy’s name, for pete’s sake! “Or are you still too bothered by the fact I got some good fucking last night?”

You flicked his arm away from you, nearly seething in your seat. “God, you’re insufferable. I should move out.”

“Yes, I think that would be for the best too,” he nodded to himself as he stared at his now empty coffee cup. Had it been that long already? Apparently, it was, because your noodles turned cold and your neighbor was already leaving your seat, dipping for a mocking bow. “Have a nice day, neighbor. Don’t think of my cock too much,” he teased, even going as far as winking until your jaw dropped.

You watched as he threw the paper cup in the proper bin, a little surprised he was decent enough to do mundane tasks like that. Sometimes, it was so easy to forget your neighbor was also a decent human being, but whatever.

You absolutely, utterly hated him, and you kept mumbling to yourself of the different ways you’d get your revenge on him as he walked out the door, his annoyingly gorgeous ass in view. “Yeah, right,” you scowled to yourself, “As if I can get that image out my mind now.”

He would not be an easy feat.

Despite your constant pleas for him to at least be silent during the weekdays to give you enough peace of mind to study for the finals, he didn’t stop. Hours just after the sun sets, you’d hear giggles and sloppy kisses on the hallway.

No matter how much you pressed your hands into your ears and set your music on full volume to block out the noise, you could always hear them.

Your neighbor was undeniably a fuckboy.

Every night, he’d have a different girl dangling in his arms. You knew, because the voices squealing his name while he fucked them right next door were always different. Some days, it was deep and throaty, and on other days it’d be high-pitched and nearly scraping at your ears. They all said the same thing though, such as fuck, right there, you feel so good or harder, harder, please, I’m so close!

To say you were traumatized was an understatement. You never wanted to hear such things again, but alas, your neighbor apparently couldn’t give a single shit because he was fucking someone again.

As if things couldn’t get worse, the person he brought home this time around just had to have the most fucking annoying voice ever. Or maybe it sounded like the others, but you were in the middle of memorizing veins and brain chemicals in alphabetical harder when you heard the headboard of his bed slam against your wall, the sound hard and loud enough you dropped your book in surprise.

They didn’t stop. If anything, he kept going harder until nothing but his low sexy groans and his partner’s screaming – that was right, she was fucking screaming – like she was having her insides rearranged.

You didn’t doubt the possibility that maybe she really was. Your neighbor was such a huge, attractive guy, after all, it would make sense he was capable of such. Before you knew it, you could no longer understand the words in your textbook. You kept rereading the same line over and over again, but nothing registered into your mind. You were so close to screaming at them to stop and shut the fuck up because it was three in the morning and they were still going at it, but you weren’t that mean.

Yes, you hated him, but you weren’t going to blue ball someone or make sex awkward. Sex with your ex was always awkward, so you knew how painful it was to live with that memory. No matter how much you hated your neighbor, you wouldn’t go that far.

So you trudged all the way up to the building’s public balcony, bringing a blanket with you to survive the chilly bite of the night.

You used your phone’s flashlight to read all over the textbooks, keeping your little note cards organized and color coded beside you. Finally, you could make sense of things a little bit more, and you chugged at your Red Bull to keep you awake. Time passed by so fast whenever you were lost with your nose stuck in a book, and your attention was only ripped away when the balcony door swung open, revealing your neighbor with messed up hair and bruised lips.

He looked totally fucked out.

“Oh, fuck, no – what are you doing here?”

“This balcony is for all tenants,” your neighbor barely blinked as he walked closer to you, but instead of joining you on the table, he leaned against the railings and stared into the night sky. He seemed so placid, a little approachable despite his intimidating face even, and for a moment, you were studying his sharp, masculine features before he turned your way with a passive face. “Last time I checked, I’m a tenant, therefore I have the rights to be here.”

“I don’t care,” you retorted childishly, pulling your books closer to you as if he wanted to steal it. He only raised a brow at your actions, the large muscles of his arms bulging up from where he stood.

It felt so hard to not salivate at the sight, but for the sake of your pride, you had to push those thoughts down and remind yourself why you hated him so much. “I evoke your rights. You’re not welcome here.”

“You’re awfully harsh to a stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger, you’re my neighbor who brings girls in his home every night and I can never get a wink of sleep because all I can hear is them moaning and the sound of balls slapping!”

“Vulgar,” he smirked, and he had no business looking so attractive with that arrogant smirk on his face that it took all energy you had in you to not whack him with your book.

“I think I deserve an apology.”

“I think you should mind your business.”

You stood up with a scowl, nearly shoving the book right in his chest. “Bro, I’m this close to slapping this book right in your pretty face. You see how thick this is? I’m not kidding, this will hurt. Listen, I’ve got a final exam and a suture practice this weekend. All I’m asking for is just a few hours of sleep – that’s all. I just don’t get why you always seem to be balls deep in someone at every god forsaken hour; I can’t focus on my work when the noises are so distracting. At this point, I remember their begging more than I’m familiar with nerves. I need to study, okay? I really want to graduate.”

He fell silent at your sudden rant, then, he tilted his head to the side, a small smile on his lips. “You think I have a pretty face?”

“After everything I said, that’s all you remember?”

“It’s kind of hard to listen to every word when I’m distracted by your eyes.”

His comment caught you off-guard, and your eyes widened, arm coming up to hide your face that soon began to felt warm. He only chuckled at your reaction, the sound deep and throaty that it went right straight into the pools of your belly. “My eyes – what are you talking about? Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You’re so creepy!”

“Hmm,” he snickered, “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

“What, no one tells you you’re creepy?”

“No, people always say I’m handsome,” he said it with such a straight face that you gave him an are you serious look, and he raised one shoulder to shrug. “I’m surprised you’re not attracted to me, to be honest.”

“Wow,” you drawled out, shaking your head with a laugh as you plopped down back to your seat in defeat. “Aren’t you full of surprises? First, I get a really horny man as my next door neighbor who keeps me up at night with his shenanigans, and now he’s got the audacity to ask me why I’m not attracted to him?”

“I mean,” he scrunched his nose cutely, a huge contrast to his domineering stature. “Why aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I give up. I’m just gonna crash at my friends tonight,” you mumbled to yourself while gathering your things, leaving your neighbor all by himself. As you reached the door, you called out to him one more time, “Oh, and by the way, you reek of pussy. Go shower or something.”

“So how’s your exams going?”

“They’re fine,” you lied through gritted teeth, slicing through the fish a lot harsher than you intended. The knife scraped against the plate and you winced at the sound, ignoring your father’s loud munching. “Not too much of a big deal. My professors are nice and my classmates are nice too. I’m fitting in really well and I think I’ll even come out on top of my class this time if it weren’t for that stupid little bastard…” your last words ended up as a whisper, eyes glazing to the side as you glared at nothing in particular.

“Stupid little what?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you waved your hand in the air, “Someone’s just distracting me from my studies, is all.”

At the mention of someone distracting your usually composed and unbothered self, your father straightened up in his seat, a large smile on his face that made him look younger than he really was. “Is it a guy? Do you finally have a boyfriend?”

“Ugh, dad, really, you’re the only father who’s so eager for his daughter to have a boyfriend. Shouldn’t you be more proud that, I don’t know, I’m pretty and smart? I don’t need a boyfriend or anything.”

Your father nodded, “True, you don’t need them, but trust me when I say life is going to get pretty lonely when you grow old and you’re all by yourself. It’s still better – and life is a lot happier – when you’ve got a stable supporting and loving figure in your life.”

“I have you for that.”

“And you always will,” he patted your hand gently across the table, “But a parent won’t always be there for their child, and if you’re still not prepared for the future or ready to stand on your own two feet, then that means I didn’t do a great job at raising you; that means I’ve failed as a parent. Tell me, have I failed? Have I raised my wonderful daughter to be so repulsed by the idea of love that she’s willingly closing her doors and locking herself away in isolation?”

“No…”

“I didn’t think so,” he grinned to himself, and you watched with a frown as his eyes crinkled in happiness. Your father was such the complete opposite of you; he was always so loving and open to everyone, while you were mopey and afraid of attachment.

“Don’t be too afraid to love, child. It’s one of the most wonderful things in this world – it’s a blessing – the absolute core of our being. Why do we exist if not to love?”

“Not everyone is a romantic like you, dad,” you sighed, “Plus…how is it so easy for you to finally find someone after Mom died? Isn’t she your soul mate?” you questioned, putting your fork and knife down as you looked your father in the eye. “I just can’t believe you’re getting married again.”

“It’s already been years since she passed away, Y/N. And yes, she is my soul mate, but that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of loving someone again. Our hearts aren’t limited like that, and your mother wouldn’t want me to keep mourning her when she’s resting in peace,” he gestured to the both of you after swallowing his food, “She would’ve wanted the both of us to be happy.”

At the mention of your passed mother, your shoulders deflated, and your eyes watered at the thought of her kind smile. You wished you could see that again.

“I miss her…”

“I know, child, I know,” your father smiled encouragingly, “I also know the reason you’re so afraid to love is because you’re scared they’ll end up leaving you too, like how your mom just slipped past our fingers like that, but it’s only her body that withered. She’s still with us, right in our hearts and in our memories.”

“You really do sound like a lovesick fool.”

“That’s because I am,” your father laughed with a slap to his knees. When his phone buzzed for his alarm, he quickly dabbed a towel on his lips, standing up to excuse himself. “Now, this lunch was lovely and I dearly missed you, but I need to go back to work. We doctors just never get a break. This is a life you have to prepare for if you want to follow my footsteps.”

“I won’t follow your footsteps – I’ll surpass you.”

“I’ll be waiting for that to happen then,” he announced proudly; pride bursting in his chest at how determined his daughter was. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?” You squinted at the mischievous look in his eyes, wary of what your cunning father had in mind this time.

“You won’t outsmart me. You better bring a boyfriend or at least introduce someone to me on the wedding – or else I’m pulling you out of the university hospital.”

“Wha – Dad, that’s not fair!”

“All is fair in love and war, child, you’ll learn soon.”

“Oh, I just hate men!”

You really did hate men.

Your final exam was tomorrow already and you’d lost count of the coffee and Red Bull you’ve inhaled today, all so you could study one last time for the test, but no, something – or rather someone – just had to get in your way.

“I’ve had enough,” you announced before slamming your door open; not hesitating as your fists came banging down on your neighbor’s door. “Hey! Keep it the fuck down – someone’s trying to study here! Seriously, man, is it really that hard for you to keep it in your pants for one night? This is what, the sixth woman you’ve had around the past four days? Don’t you get tired? Because I sure as hell am very tired of you!”

The moans and the sounds of bed creaking stopped. For a moment, you almost smirked to yourself when they fell silent.

If only you knew it would be that easy to shut them up, you would’ve done so long ago. You were about to turn back into your room when his door swung open, and you were met by his sweaty and muscular chest heaving up and down – either in anger or from his previous activities – you couldn’t tell.

Your throat felt dry as you peered at him under your lashes, almost afraid of the way he loomed over you. Thank goodness he found the time to wear pants, though, because had he been baby naked, you would’ve run for the hills already.

His dark eyes cut through yours as he seethed, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m the one who wants to ask you that,” you were surprised to find your voice despite the way your pussy actually ached just by the sight of his chiseled body, but when you did, you forced yourself to stand up taller, refusing to back down from his gaze. “It’s literally three in the morning and you’re about to fuck a hole through my wall!”

“I thought you said you’d be crashing at your friends. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I had to have your permission to come back home. Next time, I’ll give you a heads-up, good sir. And for your information, unlike you, I actually don’t like bothering the people around me so I came home. Now would you please kick her out and shut the fuck up for once?”

“Babe, are you coming back here or what?”

Red acrylic nails wound from his body out of nowhere, and your mouth fell open as you watched the naked woman press kisses on the blades of his shoulder. You were conflicted, torn between feeling jealous that she got to touch him like that because damn was he fine, but you also felt appalled your neighbor would be this type of person.

“Babe?” you repeated with a sarcastic laugh.

Stepping away from your neighbor’s tempting pecs, you waved to the stunning woman behind him. “Hi, I’m his neighbor, I don’t mean to be a cock block or anything but I’ve been a witness to his fuckboy ways for months now. If you think you’re special to him, I assure you, you’re not. Yesterday he was just banging two girls until the sunrise. If you’re really as sane as I hope you are, I suggest you skedaddle before this man feeds you with more lies. You’re not special, hun, he’s just going to fuck everything that walks on two legs.”

“Is that true?”

“Nadia, you know how this works—”

“I was literally just on the phone with you last night!” the woman named Nadia pushed him away, but because he was bigger, he didn’t budge. Nadia turned to you, her lipstick smudged and a suspicious white stain on the edge of her lips. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look down her head, and you and your neighbor both watched as she got dressed and left, hands up in the air. “Thank you for this. I should’ve known better than to waste time and money on him.”

You snickered as Nadia pressed on the elevator buttons, a scowl sent his way. Turning to him with pride swelling up in your chest, you smirked, “How does it feel—”

“Happy now?” he growled, his eyes so dark and slit into tiny cuts you took a step back, your heart pumping frantically for different reasons. You never thought he’d be this bothered for not being able to bust a nut. “Satisfied now, Y/N? Do you even realize what you’ve just done?”

“Uhm, yes,” you scoffed, matching his tone. “I just saved that poor girl’s life. Who else knows what you would’ve done and said to her. We don’t deserve to be looked down on and treated like this, you know.”

“Neither did I. I’m just doing my job.”

“Job? You don’t even have a job! You don’t even go to university for fuck’s sake – your apartment is rundown and smells like sour cunt and feet! Maybe you should even thank me because I’m trying to give you ideas on better things to do!”

“Yeah, and be like you?” he snapped, tugging at the strings of your hoodie until you fell a step forward. “Dressed in loose shirts to hide the fact you’ve got no tits and your ass is flatter than your back? Lying to her neighbor that she’ll crash somewhere but ends up waddling back home anyway because she’s always cooped up in her apartment studying to prove that she’s not as worthless as she is and that she doesn’t have a life or friends to begin with?” tears pooled at your eyes at his words, and you knew it hurt because it was true, but did he really have to say it that way?

However, his anger got the best of him, and he didn’t stop there. “I don’t want to be like you. I don’t want to skip meals and lose sleep studying for something I don’t care about because I don’t know anything else other than following daddy’s footsteps so he’d notice me more than his new bride. I’m happy with my life.”

“How did—”

“Like you said, the walls are thin. You’re not exactly so quiet to yourself, neighbor. It’s kind of pathetic you talk to the walls when you think I’m asleep because you’ve got no one else to talk to.”

Hands balled into fists at your side, you stood on your tiptoes to spit the words out. “You’re a terrible human being,” no matter how much you tried to exert dominance over him, your lips still quivered as you fought back the urge to cry. “Go fuck yourself.”

“You’re the one who needs to go fuck yourself and get laid,” he didn’t let you have another word as he slammed the door in your face, but you still heard him through the door anyway. “Uptight bitch.”

You were wrong.

Your neighbor wasn’t just difficult – he was completely impossible.

[Dad:] Don’t forget your date!

[You:] Dad…don’t push it.

[Dad:] I find it hard to believe my beautiful daughter can’t have one. Go out there and make some friends, Y/N, I know you isolate yourself too much. It doesn’t even have to be a boyfriend. You could date a girl for all I care. I just don’t want you to be too bored at the wedding. Bring a friend.

[You:] Fine, fine, okay.

[Dad:] But a boyfriend would still be better. Your old man isn’t getting any younger and I want grandkids in the future.

[You:] Dad!

[Dad:] love ya kid !

And so it was the turn of your events that had you groaning in your swiveling chair, the grip on your phone so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up breaking it. As if your week couldn’t get any more horrible with your neighbor’s hurtful words still living at the back of your mind, your father hadn’t stopped talking about you to his co-workers and his equally crazy mother that your grandmother didn’t waste time in calling you.

You loved your nan, you really did, but more often than not, she was much more of a pain in the ass than your father was. The old woman was ruthless, shooting you question by question on why her pretty granddaughter was still single, then came the demeaning comments of how you “weren’t living life to the fullest.”

Frustration eating away at you, you let out a silent scream.

The escort site blinked back at you mockingly, temptingly, as if to remind you that your problems could easily be solved with just a click. You chastised yourself for always having the need to solve problems fast and as easily as you could, because before you even realized what you were doing, your heart started beating a mile a minute as the other line kept ringing.

You ended up lying to your grandmother that yes, nan, I have a boyfriend, can I study for my exams now please, to which the pressing woman responded with, oh, finally! well, I won’t bother you anymore. study well, my dear, I can’t wait to see him!

Just thinking about how she would react if you came alone at your father’s wedding had you breaking out in a sweat, and you chewed at your nails while waiting for the site to pick up.

You were truly desperate now, so much so that you were actually calling a rental boy site.

“Good afternoon, thank you for calling Kamo Escorts! I’m Ijichi, here to assist you. What can I help you with?”

You held back a really painful cringe, biting the insides of your cheek as you got your heart to calm down. “Uhm, yeah…so this is like my first time c-calling a site like this and I don’t know what to do but…yeah.”

“I see, we get new callers too. Would you like a guide?”

“Yes, please, that’d be great thank you.”

“Kamo Escorts is all about, well, as you can see on our webpage – we have men and even women you can hire to escort you on special events. We mostly cater to clients who only need a pretty face to dangle off their arm for social company or even care, or whatever reasons the client may have and the relationship is purely business and professional, but in some cases, the escorts may have sex with the client too under the condition they are paid more.”

The gasp that left your lips was barely stifled, and you furrowed your brows at the implication. “Wh-what, so that’s like a real thing? Isn’t this…?”

Ijichi chuckled from the other line, almost as if he’d been asked this question many times before. “In a way, it is, which is why Kamo Escorts is commercially advertised for purely social company only. You may, however, negotiate with your escort if you would like more services, but we do require that you keep our escorts’ dignity and not look down on them. The service we provide may not be your typical honorable one, but we are dedicated and equally eager to be of service to this society. Should we find that you’re dehumanizing or harassing our escort, we won’t hesitate to…take some action,” the light warning of his tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, and Ijichi took note of your hesitant silence. “Would you still like to proceed?”

“Ye-yeah, I didn’t want the sex anyway.”

“Very well, then. What event are we looking for?”

“It’s for a relative’s wedding,” you supplied, “I need a date.”

“Any preference in escorts? Male, female, tall, short, sociable or introverted?”

Your eyes widened, your back flattening against your chair. “Oh, wow, so this is like a Build-A-Bear, okay, wait,” you chewed your nails again, racking up on your mind on who or what exactly you liked. “My ideal guy is…someone tall, and has pretty broad shoulders…I think I prefer a more introverted one too because people with too much energy sort of drains me…and someone caring and attentive, yes. Handsome too – but if that’s too much to ask for then—”

“It’s okay, Miss. I assure you all our escorts are definitely blessed in the gene department.”

At his confidence, you scrunched your nose and made yourself small on your chair. “Okay, but now that you say it, if he’s too handsome then I’m going to look like a potato next to him.”

“We’ll find someone compatible for you; we always never fail to please our clients. We’ll be able to match you with a more suitable escort if you’re more descriptive with what you want.”

“Okay, okay,” you continued, “Oh, and I like guys with long hair too, but really, anything is fine. I just want someone to effortlessly pretend they’re enamored after just one date and that they’re very glad to be there with me on the wedding. It’s even better if they’re introverted but can communicate well and isn’t shy at all. My relatives are kind of…freaky.”

Freaky couldn’t even begin to describe the chaos of your relatives.

In fact, had you not been paying for this service, you would’ve almost felt bad for the guy. He had no idea what he had coming for him – but then again, neither did you.

“I think we’ve got just the perfect guy for you,” Ijichi answered after a beat, “May I ask when is this event and how long you’d like to book the escort service for?”

“The event is in two weeks. I don’t need to meet him before the wedding because I’m very busy with exams, so I hope this guy can just act really well. As for the duration…I think just one day is enough. After the wedding, I’m coming right back home.”

“Convenient then,” he mused to himself, and you heard slight clicking from his side. “Let’s see…someone introverted and able to communicate well…definitely not Satoru, and his entirely booked by sugar mommies too…” Ijichi whispered to himself, followed by a slight humorous snort. “One last question: would you like someone older, younger, or the same age as you?”

“I’m in uni – I’d be more comfortable if they were closer to my age.”

“Oh, perfect, his schedule is oddly open for the whole month. Wonder what happened, he’s barely had free slots before…” the man was speaking to himself again, and you sat there pouting, even more dumbfounded at how this whole process worked.

Ijichi talked about this escort service and guided you so easily you almost couldn’t believe that it was as…simple as that. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but deep down in your mind, you were waiting for something fishy or weird to happen.

“I found someone for you. He’s one of our best escorts and I believe he’ll be great for this event. However, due to privacy issues, the disclosure of contacts and personal information can only happen once the escort agrees to this service. We’ll shortly get back to you if he’s up for the job. If not, I’ll find you another one quickly; you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Okay, thank you so much!”

“It’s our pleasure. Thank you for contacting Kamo Escorts – we hope to see you again!”

Once the call ended, you fell back on your bed with a sigh. Your neighbor wasn’t around the whole day, leaving you in peace and silence, and you took advantage of the rare quietness by pulling out a book. Hours passed, and you were nearly finished with half the textbook, fingers slightly numb from practicing sutures over and over again when your phone lit up with a text.

It came from an unknown number, but the words were loud and clear. Hey, this is Choso, I’ll be your escort for the wedding. Please text me here for the details and what else you expect from my service. I’m only a text and call away, please don’t hesitate to ask me for anything else.

You blinked at your phone, unsure of how to process the whole thing.

So it was official now – you rented an escort and you had a date for the event. Quite frankly, you were kind of expecting that escorts would be a lot more…flirtatious or even eager to please, but this Choso guy sounded too formal for you to picture yourself having this stranger be a good company for your event. Ijichi sounded so sure though that you no longer questioned it; smiling instead now that you’ve finally solved one of your problems.

Life felt a lot easier.

At around four in the morning, you were too worn out to keep going. Your exam was in the afternoon so you still had plenty of time to sleep, your stomach grumbled, prompting you to leave your unit to get some snacks.

Keys in hand and feet cold in your socks, you locked your door, halting in your steps when you saw your neighbor. Different from his usual comfortable clothing, he was dressed in a formal white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his large, masculine hands coming up to loosen his tie. He wasn’t aware of your presence, almost blindly walking to his door and sighing. You didn’t miss the fact his shoulders were slumped, and he looked absolutely worn out.

For a moment, you actually felt worried, until you remembered what he said to you.

“What, no pussy to fuck tonight?”

He froze in front of his door for a moment, slightly tilting back to see your aggravated stance. Upon seeing it was just you, he shook his head and turned back to unlock his door. “No thanks to you.”

“Aw, did I ruin your reputation?” you mocked sarcastically, “I’m surprised people aren’t smart enough to pick up the smell of women’s perfume on you already. Seriously, are people that desperate for touch?” It was ironic; you’d never admit it, but you weren’t any better than them. You were equally desperate to be touched despite your aversion to romantic relationships, but he didn’t need to know that.

“It’s normal when you’re someone people are naturally attracted to. Not that you’d get it, of course, because it’s clear you don’t get some.”

“At least my apartment doesn’t smell like pussy.”

“At least I don’t masturbate every night then pass out after one weak orgasm.”

Your cheeks burned at his offhanded comment, and even with his back turned to you, you could see the slight smile tugging at his cheeks. He must’ve felt so cocky, thinking that he’d defeated you, so you blurted out the most intelligent thing possible: “How dare you!” while grabbing onto his shoulders to make him face you. “Look me in the eye and take that back!”

“Whatever you’re planning,” he crooned, head tilted to the side and making strands of his bangs fall over his eyes. He looked absolutely handsome under the flickering lights of the hallway in that moment, and you hated how you weren’t able to take your hands off of his strong shoulders, his masculine and spicy perfume clouding your mind. “It’s not going to work. Surprise surprise, but you’re not as cute as you think you are.”

Your eyes burned with fire, the nerves in your body so closing to popping. He infuriated you so much. “And you’re not as sexy as you believe you are!”

“Oh, yeah?” The positions are suddenly switched as he cornered you beside his doorframe, both of his arms planted beside your head. Because he was taller, he had to lean down to look you in the eye, his warm, minty breath brushing over your lips. You stared at him with wide eyes, fingers raking over the wall in a silent attempt to flee. Upon seeing your pursed lips, he laughed.

“Then why are you so shaky? Do I make you nervous?” his head dipped down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Say…you only pretend to hate me, but you actually wish it was you I’m fucking every night, don’t you? Tell me…do you touch yourself when you hear me eating someone out?”

“I-I’m not—”

Before you could combust under his gaze, he pulled himself away from you, a satisfied smirk on his face at your flustered state. He chuckled lowly, keys spinning on his thick finger. “I was just teasing you, princess. No need to get so worked up.”

“I never want you near me again!”

He raised both brows as if to challenge you, and you knew from the glint in his eyes he was up to no good. “Princess, you jumped on me first.”

“I didn’t!” You shouted, immediately slapping your palm over your lips after realizing people were sleeping. He snickered at your reactions, and you pushed past him back to your unit, suddenly losing the appetite to get your precious snacks. “God, I hate you so much.”

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

Difficult. Unbelievable. Complicated. Idiotic. Nothing was ever easy with him.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” your father scolded from his chair, his body barely moving as the stylists fixed his hair and makeup, but his eyes glared at you from the mirror. “You’re a lot more nervous than I am, and it’s my wedding.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it.”

Your father sighed to himself, standing up after they were done with him. He checked his appearance in the mirror for a while, nodding to himself in satisfaction. It was still a little surreal that he was going to get married again, to a woman half his age of all people, but he was happy, and his bride seemed to really love him too, so you no longer questioned your father’s decisions. He was an adult, anyway, he could make his own decisions.

“You’re waiting for your boyfriend, you say?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s he like?”

You stiffened at the question. Not wanting your sharp-eyed father to pick up on the smallest cues, you lied through your teeth despite not having any idea on who or what kind of person the escort was.

Other than discussing details of how you two supposedly met, conversations had been crisp and short. You were lucky that the escort seemed to be nice and smart enough to not always ask you to explain everything, and he was crisp and curt in his texts too. No flirty or suggestive messages, not even a single emoji. He seemed a little stiff, and while you worried if you could fake chemistry with someone who seemed like a wall, you were also assured by the fact he wasn’t some creep.

“Nice. He’s sweet. You’ll like him.”

“And when did you meet him?”

“Dad, do I have to tell this story all over again?” you groaned, “We met after exams, he goes to a different uni and he studies law—”

“Law. Impressive.”

“Of course you’re impressed,” you rolled your eyes. Coming from a family of doctors and engineers, your father, and pretty much everyone else in the family, also expected that you’d date someone who was equally intelligent and had enough connections in different industries at least. It just so happened you were really lucky your escort also really did study law for a bit before he became an escort; a detail you never got enough explanation for. “He’ll be here anytime soon. Just you wait.”

In reality, you were the one who couldn’t wait.

You were excited and nervous at the same time to see this mysterious escort, and you were in the middle of talking to your father and his bride when someone called you.

“Y/N?”

You turned around with a bright grin. That must be him! You clasped at the hems of your dress so you could meet this mysterious, rigid man properly, but the moment your eyes met his equally startled gaze, you choked on your own breath. “Y-you—”

Choso stood before you; handsome as ever in his suit and tie, his iconic twin tails still there. How ever would your father believe you now that he was a lawyer, especially with his messy hair and face tattoo? You loved it and found it sexy on him, no denying that, but your father was a little bit more traditional. But that aside, it was Choso?!

His professionalism arose and he regained his composure quicker than you did, the smile on his face so natural and alluring even you almost fell for it.

Choso wrapped an arm around your waist before kissing you on the cheek, and the skin felt extremely hot under his lips. You couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak, because Choso was pressed flush against you, and he looked at you with stars shining in his eyes you didn’t know whether to be flattered or afraid.

Maybe a fucked up mix of both.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad,” he explained with a small smile on his lips, and he looked so handsome and smelled so good in that moment you were left gaping at him as he bowed to your father, arm politely extended. “You must be Y/N’s father. It’s very nice to meet you sir. I’m her boyfriend, Choso.”

To your surprise, your father eagerly shook his hand with the brightest grin he’d worn the whole night before he faced you with a laugh. “No way,” he beamed, gesturing to Choso. “He’s your boyfriend? You managed to snag this fine man?”

“Dad!” your ears burned with embarrassment. Choso only laughed; making you painfully aware of his large, warm hand resting at the small of your back.

“I heard you’re a lawyer, son?”

“Yes, sir.”

Your father nodded in approval, the two exchanging over words about what his plans were for the future and how his studies were going. You stood there with a pounding heart, fearful that Choso could fuck up any moment, but he was so effortless and easy going. Had you not been the one paying him, you would’ve been fooled too.

So this was the life of an escort.

“So how much did my daughter pay you?”

“Dad, I didn’t—”

“I mean, there’s no way she actually charmed you with her non-existent social skills. My daughter here can’t even talk to someone and look them in the eye, much less ask someone out, so how did this happen?”

Choso laughed at your father’s lighthearted comment, saving the day for what seemed like the hundredth time already. “I approached her first, sir. We were both eating in this small diner and it was cramped, so we shared tables and started conversation,” Suddenly, his grip tightened on you as he pulled you closer, your ear now resting above the lulling and steady beating of his heart. How was he so calm?

He lightly squeezed your hip and it had you freezing under his touch, stiffening even more when he looked down at you so adoringly. “Guess it went downhill from there.” God, you had no idea who this man was.

“Really? What did you guys talk about?”

Choso opened his mouth to speak, but it was there, that damned glint on those dark eyes again that you clutched at his bicep. He may be damn good at this job, but knowing Choso, he was enjoying this way too much.

Anything you couldn’t predict or control properly was a huge no in your game, and you pulled Choso away before he could say something downright humiliating.

“Dad, just go focus on your wedding. I want to spend time with my boyfriend, okay?” You couldn’t even begin to fathom the inward cringe upon your words, the feeling only worsening when Choso fought back a laugh masked with a cough. Before your father could say anything else, you dragged Choso rather harshly, but he didn’t mind; he followed you obediently. “Come with me. I need to talk to you,” You didn’t stop until you were both alone in a desolated corner, and finally, you hissed at him. “What are you doing here?!”

“I should be asking you the same thing – but it turns out you’re my client.”

“Client? So you really are my escort?”

“Yes, I am.”

“So those women…”

“All my clients,” he confirmed your thoughts. “I assure you they knew what they were getting into. In fact, they were the ones who asked for that special service that caused you to lose your sleep every night. That woman the other day was just pissed because she booked me for three days, but I lied that I was available until the duration she wanted when I wasn’t.”

“You mean you were still working an escort for somebody else?”

He shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Why did you lie then?”

“It’s more money,” Choso stared down at his hands before his eyes flitted back up to yours, his face unreadable. “I’m saving up so I can move somewhere else. Our apartment isn’t exactly the most ideal considering my profession. I need to find someplace quieter with thicker walls this time,” he smiled, “That way, I’ll no longer bother my sweet neighbor,” your lips felt dry at his words, your tongue darting out to lick at them while Choso scrutinized you under his gaze.

“I have to admit though – you asking for escort service is the last thing I’d ever imagine you doing. Not that I’m complaining since it’s still money in my pocket, but you’re not the most pleasing company to be with.”

“Oh, you bet, Choso. Had I known you were going to be my escort, I would’ve declined long ago,” you groaned, your head dropping in your hands. “What was Ijichi thinking when he said I would be compatible with you?”

“You’re not,” he stated, “But I am compatible with you – as I am with pretty much everyone else. I’m one of the best escorts, and soon you’ll see why.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by then, but it seemed Choso was quite eager to show his skills off when he dragged you back inside the reception event. The whole time, you couldn’t pay attention to anything or anyone else other than Choso. It still felt hard to believe that the whole time, he really was doing his job, and upon seeing how easily he had people believing you two were an item despite you just standing silently beside him, you felt guilty that you disrupted his “work” like that.

Guilt gnawed at you as Choso made everyone laugh, and soon your relatives were cooing, praising you and congratulating you that you were “happy” now.

Back then, you always looked down on him and even called him a mere fuckboy, but Choso was so much more than that. He was intelligent; his past as a lawyer proved that, and whatever happened that caused him to work in this industry kept lingering in your mind.

There was no denying it now.

You respected this man – admired him even.

“And now it’s time to join the newly married couple on the dance floor! Come on, people, bring your dates up here for a twirl!”

You remained planted in your seat, too comfortable with Choso’s jacket draped around your bare shoulders. You’d lost count of how many times your head ducked down for the lack of sleep, and as much as you loved your dad, you wanted nothing more than to go home and rest.

Choso offered his hand to yours, a teasing smile on his face. He wriggled his eyebrows up and down, and he looked so utterly ridiculous that you couldn’t believe the boring man you were texting was the same infuriating yet undeniably attractive bastard who was your neighbor was the same fun. The world is very small, it seemed, and you weren’t sure whether you were brave enough to venture these strange places and feelings.

“Uh-uh. No. I’m not dancing.”

“Two left feet?”

“No, I’m wearing heels. My feet hurts.”

“Then take it off.”

“And get my feet dirty?” you scoffed. As if to prove your point, you snuggled deeper into his jacket that smelled heavenly like him, closing your eyes as you pretended to sleep. “Sitting here isn’t so bad. Plus, look at them, all staring at each other with goo-goo eyes. It’s revolting,” you shuddered.

Through the sickeningly romantic music playing in the background, Choso fell silent. You cracked an eye open, frowning when Choso studied each of your features carefully. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You seem to hate the idea of love.”

“Because it’s pointless.”

Choso narrowed his eyes at your answer, brows bunching up at the way your shoulders squared to keep yourself away. Then, he stood up and sighed, offering his hand to you once more.

“I won’t really ask you to explain why, because frankly, I don’t care,” you stared at his large palms for a few seconds. There must be a ghost possessing your body because you looped your fingers through his and allowed him to guide you on the dance floor despite your mind’s protests, and soon, Choso’s eyes were all over you. “But if you don’t want your money to go down the drain and you really want to convince everyone, I suggest you forget about that mindset for just a few more hours,” his voice dropped down to a low whisper, his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes turned solemn, his hand on your waist gentle. “Dance with me. Let’s show them how madly in love we are with each other.”

“We met just last week, remember?”

“Love at first sight, princess,” Choso kissed your forehead, sending your heart thumping and running to another dimension. Oddly enough, you didn’t mind, and your hands travelled from his strong arms to his broad shoulders instinctively. “Take your heels off. You can step on my feet and I’ll dance for us both. Just put your arms around my neck – yes just like that,” he nodded with a smile when your fingertips nervously played with his hair, and Choso began to dance you both in time with the music. “Are you good?”

“I don’t like this lack of space between us.”

Choso smirked, “Why, do I get you all hot and bothered?”

“Jesus, Choso, you can’t be serious for a minute, huh?”

“It’s kind of hard to be serious when you’re so flustered and adorable right now,” you pulled at his hair in response, but of course, he wasn’t really hurt.

“Look at me,” he demanded, but you refused, keeping your gaze planted on your bare feet on top of his again. “Hey. I said look at me,” he tilted your chin up until you’re forced to be like prey under his gaze, his breath tickling the bow of your lips. “I am your escort for tonight – and I humbly ask that you do your part as my client so I can perform my job well. I need you to look into my eyes and pretend you’re in love with me.”

“I don’t want to fall in love with anyone,” you suddenly admitted, “I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be,” he replied, softly this time, and his hands ran down tenderly to your hips to pull you closer to him. “I’ll be there to catch you.”

You couldn’t remember who leaned in first. The only thing you remembered was that the music faded in the background when you kissed him – or maybe he kissed you – fuck, you didn’t really remember. Eventually, the kiss grew too heated, his hands squeezing your waist while you moan at the taste of chocolate and wine on his expert tongue.

Choso easily read your mind and swooped you away from the crowd, the both of you stumbling until you made it out to the venue and onto the beach.

The salty air kissed your skin while Choso carried you bridal style, arms looped around his neck while he kept moving his lips above yours. He was laughing through the kiss with how messy and eager you were, tugging at his shirt to encourage him to unbutton it. Choso set you both down on the darker, isolated part of the beach where nothing but the sound of waves lapping against one another could be heard with your breathless pants and his chuckles.

You were lying on his jacket, dress bunched up to your chest while your legs were spread wide open for him. “Ch-Choso,” you choked out when his tongue ran flat across your slick folds, his hands keeping your hips pinned down to the sand. “I-I, please.”

“I got you, princess,” was all he said before he completely dived into your heat, his sharp nose brushing into your cunt.

It didn’t take long until you were spasming in his hold, legs closing around his head. Choso groaned into your pussy, a finger working its way inside your sopping cunt while he licks and slurps your arousal like it was fucking water. Now you understood why those girls always lost their mind – Choso was a fucking expert when it came to worshipping pussy.

Choso pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the sudden emptiness, but he was kind, eager to please you that he immediately replaced it with his tongue.

You cried out when you felt his tongue entering your hole, one thumb pulling the hood of your lips up to reveal your sensitive pearl. Choso rubbed your clit fervently, his other hand reaching up to squeeze and tug at your breasts while he drank your juices dripping down his tongue as if you would be his last meal – and he honestly wished you were, because you tasted like heaven on him and he wanted more.

Once he felt you clamping down on his tongue so tightly he struggled to retrieve his warm muscle back, he helped you reach your high by pinching your clit. You moaned out his name, the sound sending blood straight down his cock, and he groaned into your pussy the moment you grinded on his face as you relaxed from your orgasm.

Choso didn’t give you the chance to recover from your orgasm, pulling you up to his lap before he’s kissing you again. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his tongue, his face and cheeks sweet from your arousal and cum.

You should be ashamed, but you couldn’t find a single bone in your body that felt shy right now. Choso was right – there was no point in being shameful when it came to your pleasure.

The kiss was sloppy, more tongue than lips and teeth clashing onto another. Choso grinded you on his hardened erection in search of your heat that would bring him relief, but he slowed down and pulled away from you, a string of saliva connected from your lips. He wanted you – wanted to fuck you so badly – so he searched your eyes for the answer when you aligned the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Is this okay? Are you sure with this?”

“Yeah,” you gritted your teeth when his tip entered your tight cunt, your walls sucking him in greedily already. Choso’s head dropped down to your shoulder, his teeth sinking down to your shoulder. You slowly sat down on his thick length, but then froze before he could bottom out. “Wait, no, I’m broke! I can’t pay for your extra services!”

“It’s free for you, princess,” he rasped out, “Now sit on my lap so I can feel you around me already.”

“Do you always have to be so vulgar?”

Through the pleasure that had his abs rippling, Choso managed a laugh. “You might want to get used to it.”

“Why would I?” you breathed out, eyes shutting tight once he fully slid into you. He allowed you to get used to the sudden stretch; it had been too long since you’ve been touched this way that you were impossibly tight around him right now. Your chest rose and fall with each faltering breath, your nails running down his back when Choso gave a deep, experimental thrust that immediately hits your sweet spot.

You moaned, cheek resting on his shoulder as Choso set the pace, squeezing your ass as he bounced you up and down his cock. “You’re gone after this. Once this contract is over, you’re moving away and I won’t get to see you anymore. I-I won’t lose sleep anymore after hearing you fuck all those women and gosh, I hate you so much, you know that?”

“I hated you too,” he groaned through your skin, “Or at least, that’s what I told myself so I wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Hurt? I would never hurt you,” Really, you praised yourself for still being able to form coherent sentences even after Choso kept fucking into you.

“I’m an escort, princess, I’m everybody’s and nobody’s at the same time,” he explained almost angrily, and his lips zealously sucked love bites to the sensitive flesh of your neck, “Even if you won’t hurt me, we’re bound to crash and burn at some point. This is why we’re not allowed to get attached to anyone,” his lips brushed over her collarbone, his canines dragging along to make red marks. “Why we’re not allowed to fall,” he squeezed her breast in the palm of his hand, twisting the peaked nipple until you whined, hips bucking deeper into his cock. “Why we’re not allowed to love.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“I’ve always liked you,” he laughed through the pleasure, holding your hips down so he could drive his cock deeper into you. Yes, he was selfish, yes, he was frustrated – and his feelings burst through the way Choso powered into you. You fell limp in his arms and he easily caught you like he always did, his eyes blown wide as he stared right into your eyes, his dick still pummeling through your gummy walls.

Choso inhaled sharply when you clenched down on him, an elongated moan spilling past your lips. “I liked you the moment you moved in and you fell flat on your face before you could greet me.”

“Shut up, don’t remind me of that!” you raked your nails down his back hard enough to draw blood, and Choso concealed the pain with light chuckle, the pain only prompting him to absolutely use you. “You’re seriously bringing it up now when you’re – ah, fuck – b-buried in me?”

Choso tugged at one of your legs and wrapped it around his waist, the sudden change of angle had you pressing down deeper into him. It felt like you were sinking closer and closer to his cock, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix until you’re crying out in his arms, scratches evident on his back.

“For now,” he breathed out, “I want to at least be selfish enough to want you now, just for now if fate won’t still allow it.”

“W-we can try,” you said in your lust-filled gaze, lips crashing down messily to his while you bounced on him, your hips slamming down at the same to meet his thrusts. “It’s not going to be easy, but we can try, right?” You cupped his face, surprised with the sudden vulnerability from his hooded eyes, looking so innocent and beautiful as if he wasn’t painting your insides white.

“Okay,” he nodded, brows pinching together. And that was all the both of you needed before Choso sank his fangs down the column of your neck to hold on his low groans; your head thrown back as you both drown in the pleasure of being with one another.

In the blink of an eye, all tenderness is Choso’s touches replaced by the hunger in his eyes and the power of his lust-filled thrusts. You were a moaning mess by the time your hips sit flat on his pelvic bone and his balls brush on your ass from how deep he was hitting you, and you felt his teeth nibble at the side of your breasts again as he warned, “But for now, I’m not going to go easy on you – not when I’ve wanted you for so long and I’ve been so hard for you these all time.”

And you allowed him. Because nothing was ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d try pushing through hell and back.

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starlos-soulmate · 2 years ago

Text

Someone Heard Me

Pancake hears a cry for help, and it happens to be Spamton. Spamton meanwhile is caught in a fight, with the threat his friend will be taken from him.

This story happens after this one, so be sure to read that one as well!!

Warning: there is violence in this! Gets a bit graphic. Please be careful (there is dismemberment and eye injury)

It was a bright chill day, the Ad District was a tad crowded today, and yet Pancake cheerfully wandered around the plaza. Backpack strung behind her, a contempt smile on her face as she skipped to the music playing on her headphones.

Earlier that day she got a good haul from dumpster diving, with no run-in from Spamton. Granted the last time she saw him was...about a week ago. The lack of Spamton would have concerned her if he wasn't capable of himself. He was pretty strong. Also wasn't a week ago when she met him at that abandoned diner?

Pancake put one of the headphones behind her ear while wandering into a store. It was a small one, one she visited often. It was the closest thing to a Hot Topic the District had, if the Hot Topic was also stationed in a log cabin. It was welcoming, the green Addison behind the counter waved to her when she walked by, and the music was very reminiscent of 90s alternative. How they were able to play music without Queen knowing was a mystery, but Pancake obviously didn't mind.

The patches was her first stop, actually her only stop when she heard a noise. It was faint, but it was there. She perked up, paused her music, and looked quizzically at the shop owner.

He looked back at her, just as confused, and said "What?"

"Oh, uh, thought I heard a noise'" she said.

"Must've been your music. I didn't hear anything." He shrugged and went back to his book. Pancake shrugged back and was about to turn back to the patches when she heard it again. Louder. Like it was a cry for help.

Alerted, she stood up and made the cashier jump. Before he could get a word out to her Pancake was out the door and into the District.

It was much louder here, with the hustle and bustle of the streets. Yet no one seemed concerned. No one seemed to have heard it. But a lot more people than her should've heard it. She was in a store for Pete's sake, and no one was going to find who needed-

"Help!! Please! Any-"

The sentence wasn't even cut off before Pancake rushed down the street to where it was coming from. An alleyway.

She hoped it wasn't him.

----

Cruel laughter sounded from the three figures above him. His body ached, the crack in his face splintering more as he was dropped. Pain exploded across his face, spreading as he felt more cracks split open. The rest of his body was in agony as well, with what felt like a broken wrist and burns across his chest. The ground was wet, and [so cold.] It would have been relieving if he wasn't in agony.

"That was your best attempt? Awh please Spammy Wammy, you should have known better!" The orange Addison who loved to torture him knelt in front of him, her face mocking him. Her head tilted, her ponytail swinging. "No one is coming to help, you should have realized this by now, gotten it through that thick plastic SKULL of yours!" She picked him up by the neck and slammed him into the wall, accentuating her words, and making his teeth clack together painfully.

"You are disgusting you pathetic dog. Who would help you? Your old fwiends?" Her smile twisted, metallic serrated teeth and lower jaw reflecting the dull light. "Please. Give it up."

The two figures behind her chuckled, two massive Werewires, her partners in crime.

His head throbbed, almost as bad as the insults. He hated how much she loved to gloat over him, glaring back at her.

"Now, Spamton," she spat his name out like it tasted foul, "where is it?"

"I T0Ld yUu P1P, IiiII doN;T [HAAAve youHEARD-] It." His voice was raw, it hurt to speak.

She glared at him and he shrank back from her smell, she'd definitely smoked before she decided to beat him up again. "NO [[kromre]] [Hearing T-]"

"No money? Awwh is that so?" She raised her hand, metallic claws glinting in the low light. Behind her, the Werewires sparked. Spamton's eyes widened while nervously swallowing. He's felt this before, a harsh punishment. He involuntarily jerked as she ran a claw along his cheekbone, the faint buzz of electricity making him wince.

"How bout I sweeten the pot then, hmmmm? Rumor has it you're acquainted with a Lightner. In fact, the Lightner that has been," she rotated her hand as if to find the right word, "roaming around here. Now. If you tell me where she is, I will gladly forgive you of your debt."

A chill ran up his spine. Since when was that a thing? Being familiar with the Lightner? Not to mention, as strong as Pancake was, Pip could easily kill her. The Werewires alone could do her in.

This also wasn't Pancake's [business.] It was his and his alone. As much as he liked- tolerated her, he was terrified what Pip would do to Pancake if she got her claws on her. He briefly wondered what it would be like if Pancake wasn't around anymore. He would never admit it to anyone, but after the meeting in the diner the previous week, he realized she was his stars and sky. He couldn't afford to lose her.

"I HAV [Zero Ideas] whAT Y0U:eR [Talked] BOUT!!!" Spamton spat. "BESizS I D[OOO]Nt [Do You Owe Money-] You 4NYT1NG!!!!"

Pip frowned, disappointed. She snapped her fingers and the Werewires lit up, electricity sparking between her fingers. "Such a loss then. Playing dumb, and denying what I gave you years ago."

"[Eye] [[Pay Now]]d YOu BAcc!!!!" Spamton snarled, squirming and then crying out in pain when she tightened her grip.

"No you didn't! Not all of it!!" Her voice was back to that sickly sweet tone like she was berating a child. He could feel the electricity from where he was as they brightened. "So tell me, where's my money, or where's the Lightner?"

"IF U [laid] A F1NG3R ON-"

"OH so you DO know her!!" She brightened.

He exhaled sharply, realizing what he said. It was a slip, and now she knows. "I M NOT S44YiN A THinG!!" He felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes as her grip tightened again.

"Fair enough. Hope you can lick you-"

Suddenly the sky was bright with pink, accompanied with an ear-splitting shriek. He gripped his head when everything lit up. More noises, explosions, screaming, confusion, wait was he in the air? He doesn't remember falling but he came to in a box a couple moments later. The box was on its side and he used it to cover himself. Everything hurt even more now. His head was ringing, he felt like he was slammed repeatedly into a wall, his wrist felt like it snapped more.

Spamton heard a thud right outside with sizzling. But it...didn't sound like electricity? Wincing, he peeked out.

It was one of the Werewires.

Dying.

He swallowed, grimacing at the smell, like burnt sugar. There was a pink liquid splattered all over their body. Oh, there was the source of the sizzling. He watched in abject horror as he watched the liquid eat away at their flesh. Wait a minute, he recognized that-

He heard shuffling and a shout. Pip was...scared?

Spamton lifted the box more and saw why. In front of his spot was a Monster. Larger than the Werewires. Its back was to him, standing on two legs, with massive wings and multiple tails fanned out behind it, swaying slightly. Oh this day just got so much worse. He barley saw Pip back up in horror.

"Wh- what are you?" She squeaked, the palest orange he's ever seen her be.

The creature's wings dropped. "Wait, you have to ask? Like you can't look at my soul and see who I am?" Wait... "This is the first time someone asked me who I was. Sorry, I'm just used to 'aaa it's a Lightner!' So forgive me-"

"WHAT KIND OF LIGHTNER?!" Pip shrieked.

"I dunno. Definitely not fully human!"

Pancake?! She's HERE?! What, when, why- wait! He inhaled sharply as his heart skipped a beat.

She heard him, didn't she?

-----

Pancake looked down at the orange Addison. She had a ponytail and smelled of cigarette smoke, but was definitely a different Addison. With a metallic lower jaw and teeth, and her left hand had metal claws. And metal bits everywhere. Judging from the dying Werewires she blasted, she used them as conductors. Huh.

Pancake shrunk, shifting to her human self. She was seething, seeing red. Her and Spamton's early spats were one thing, her getting attacked by a random Darkener was another. But this?! Her friend, who was not only homeless but abandoned?! Plus it was one versus three, and three massive enemies at that. Pancake knew Spamton was tough, but this was ridiculous and she came to even the scales.

"Well then," she snarled, twisting her mouth into a snarl, "guess i found out what that cry of help was. Now, I'm gonna make this simple," She leaned in. "Leave. Him. Alone."

"HIM?! That failure of an Addison?! Why did YOU come to his aid?"

"He's my friend," Pancake snarled, her voice dangerously low, "and so I ask you, leave him alone."

"And why should I listen t- AAAAAAHHH-"

Pancake grew tired of this Addison's speech and lunged at her, biting down hard on her shoulder. The other Werewire that hadn't died yet jumped into action, zapping her and causing her to scream. She fell, caught a glimpse of silver, and rolled over just before the Addison's claws pierced the ground. Pancake kicked the Addison in the face and stood up, getting hit by another electricity ball from the Werewire, causing her to stumble. Electricity sparked up her sides, burning her. The smell of flesh was awful, and now her favorite hoodie was ruined.

She turned her attention to the sidekick, launching herself at the brightly colored furball. The Darkener shrieked and tried to throw her off, electrocuting her all the while. The Addison took this as an opportunity to stab her in the side with her claws. Pancake screamed, grabbing the Addi with her tails and slamming her against the ground before falling off the Werewire.

She righted herself, looked at the Addison again, who had also stood up, and lunged.

---

Spamton could barely believe it. She really did come, she really did care. His mind ran with the thought she thought of him the same way he did her. He heard her. And she was in pain, and it was his fault.

It was his fault.

Guilt pricked at him, watching her claw at the Addison while being clawed back.

He often would get mocked, get spit upon, laughed at. He hoped that one day there would be someone who did care, for him. Someone who, after all these years, see him as a person. And. There she was. And she's getting hurt because of him.

Spamton wanted to help, but he was in too much pain. It's something he felt he should have gotten used to. Often being stepped on, having sand thrown at him, having his nose pulled and other injuries. But this time it was harsher, and Pip really wanted to mess with him, to bleed him dry as he was an easy target.

Pancake was a miracle.

Who also got slammed into a wall. He grimaced as he heard a sick snap come from her arm, accompanied with another yelp of pain. She fell and slumped over. Pip sauntered over to her, claws glinting and sparking.

"So you're the Lightner Spamton knows," She drawled.

"Yeah, and what of it?" Pancake wiped a streak of blood off her chin.

"You'll make me some good money!" Pip hummed, grabbing Pancake's chin and tilting her head.

"Oh so you run a black market?"

"Something like that... you are gorgeous!"

"Thank you, I try," Pancake smirked. It always amazed Spamton how Pancake would sass in the face of death. It was like she didn't even care that she would die. "Now you say you're gonna sell me?"

Pip nodded smiling smugly, "that I am." The Werewire moved behind her.

"Yeah one thing though." Spamton saw the inside of her mouth glow a hot pink. Ohhh no, he knew what that meant.

"Hmm?" Pip didn't seem to notice yet, looking at her arms.

Smoke curled out of the corners of her mouth. "Ya gotta catch me!"

She inhaled and the hot pink acid blasted out of her mouth, hitting the other Werewire. Pip had ducked, yelping when she heard the loud blast hit the other side of the alleyway. Spamton could tell she felt the heat.

Then Pancake kicked her square in the chest and pounced on her. He couldn't exactly see what was happening, but he heard them yelling at eachother. Unease and worry squeezed his gut. Pancake seemed a better match than he thought, but Pip still looked to have an advantage.

Spamton's thoughts were shaken as another shriek pierced the air. Pancake and Pip were standing again, glaring at eachother. Pip looked worse, and some of Pancake's clothes were torn, especially her sleeves. Wasn't that one of her favorite hoodies? His brow furrowed, feeling loss for her.

Pip growled as she clenched and unclenched her fist. Stalking closer to the much smaller Pancake who didn't back away. He couldn't see Pancake's face, her back was to him.

"You're so much worse than I thought. BOTH of my Werewires? Dead? You sick scoundrel!"

"Says the one beating up someone who is nearly half MY size!" Pancake snarled back. Spamton winced, he felt that blow to his ego, even if she was right. "How long has this been happening? Is this fun for you? Is he easy pickings because of how small he is? Do you know how pathetic that is?"

"Don't you DARE you little-" Pip drew closer, livid.

"I'm serious! You think you're so high and mighty from what I can tell, and yet you're here with TWO Werewires beating up someone the size of a kid."

Pip wound up her clawed hand. "You stupid-"

"And I- AAAAGH-"

Pip struck Pancake, blood splattering across Pip's face. Pancake stumbled back, clutching her own face. Spamton screamed. Oh gosh. Oh no. Oh [#^$#*]. [She's hurt she's hurt she's hurt she's hurt she's hurt-]

"Blind now ain't ya? Don't think I didn't check what that scar and milky eye meant!" Pip looked down at Pancake, sneering, as Pancake doubled forward clutching her face. "Try to protect your boyfriend now!"

B-boyfriend? Spamton stuttered, heat rising to his face. It probably was an insult, but after everything that happened-

Static clouded his mind, beginning to hyperventilate.

She wouldn't want to see him after this, wouldn't she? She's hurt because of him, of his own business, and she won't see him again. In. More ways than one too. If Pip is correct anyway. Not that it matters-

Pip laughed, "Now if you don't mind I-"

Pancake gripped Pip's arm, then looked up at her with wide eyes. Pip's heart skipped a beat. No she didn't- it was-

"Wrong eye, bucko!" she snarled.

Spamton snapped to attention, eyes wide. Next thing he knew, Pancake latched herself on Pip's shoulder, biting down hard. He could hear the crunch of bone before Pip started screaming. With another twist, the arm cracked off. Pancake pushed Pip on the ground and placed a foot on her chest. Then she did something that would be burned in Spamton's mind.

She tilted her head up, tongues wrapped around the arm, and began swallowing it whole. Pip screamed again, and Spamton winced every time he heard it crack. Within a few seconds, it was gone, and Pancake placed her arms on her knee, leaning forward a bit.

"I have a deal for you, kay? I think I saw you earlier, couple days ago maybe. And I kinda saw that your life will be cut short soon. So how about this? You leave Spamton alone, never seek him out *ever* again, and I will extend your life!" She leaned back, spreading her arms out either side. "How about it?"

Pip squeaked, catching on how royally [&%>#] she was. Her Werewires were dead, Pancake literally bit off and ate her arm, she had nothing left.

"I agree! I agree just let me go!!"

"Alright, alright," Pancake stepped off Pip, watching her shakily stand up, "now you better hold onto those words because I WILL kill you if you touch or harm him in ANY way again. Got it?"

Pip nodded.

"Good. Now scram." Pancake watched as Pip ran down the alleyway, glaring daggers where she disappeared to. When she was gone Spamton saw all the stress and tension leave her, sighing softly. Then wincing and doubling over, grabbing her side.

Spamton cried out and tossed the box as he limped to Pancake, who was kneeling. She looked up and him and grinned. He grimaced.

Up close her injuries looked worse. Her upper arm was bent at a scary angle, he could see (and smell) the [it burns!] marks all over her body, and she was bleeding from where Pip stabbed her. But the worst part was her face. Half covered in blood, streaking down her face, with horrible gashes across her blind eye, which had swollen shut. His stomach flip-flopped.

"OH [[Angel]], WHAT D1D SHE [to-do] y0u?" He approached and placed his hands on her arm.

"What did she do to me? What did she do to you buddy?" She chuckled, trying to move her injured arm.

"NO N0 DON"T!!!!" He snapped his fingers, summoning an angelic miniton who patted her head. Some of her wounds healed, but only partially. He summoned some more, sitting next to her when he felt the exhaustion hit. It was a lot of energy he was using. On her. She needed it more than him, if anything as an apology. Make things up with her. He can't. He can't lose her.

"Awh thanks Spam Bam!" Pancake chuckled, warming his insides. "But...why didn't you do that to yourself?"

"YOU G0T THE [Brunt Force] OF WHA7 HAPPEN3D. AND... I'M. I- [I'm sorry.]"

"Wh- what are you sorry for? And, you're still hurt!" She leaned over, concern painting her face.

"I- YOUER [hurt]. AND IT'S MY

AND IT"S MY

AND IT'S MY

AN D ITS MY

AND UTS MY-"

Pancake placed a hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of it. Her face, her concern, her worry, it made him want to cry. All that was directed to him. No pity, no malice, only care. She cracked a smile. She looked worse for wear. He tried to ignore the swirling emotions in his gut in place for her friend.

"Don't worrry Spam Bam, I'll be fine I sw-" to his horror she fell in front of him.

Spamton yelped, heart pounding, rushing over, patting her cheeks and summoning more angels, near hyperventilating. Stressing. Crying. "DON7 DIE...[pretty please]...doNT D13...oN M3.."

Then he got an idea.

----

Pancake shifted, a minor pain in her head. Face. She'd need to take some pain pills or... something. But she didn't want to get up. She was cold, and that meant outside was colder. And she didn't want to be cold.

She grunted and shifted again, this time on her side, wondering what she was gonna have for breakfast. Inky would be at her face any minute and why can't she get comfortable. She opened her eyes, already narrowed, when she saw a blue wall.

Wait.

She sat up in a panic, then groaned as pain flaired in her head and side, clutching both. It was then when she realized how much everything hurt. And she couldn't move her arm; it was bandaged. Pancake began to try to lift it again when a voice halted her.

"WHOAA WHO4!! SLOW DO WN TH3RE [[Nelly!!]]" A figure appeared at her side, with a voice only one person could have. A hot bowl of...something was placed in her lap as Spamton sat down next to her. Her heart skipped a beat, her face feeling warm, but she pushed it down best she could.

"YOU [[Take Two]] QU1TW A [Beat It Out] A COUPLE D4YS AGO!!"

Pancake stopped, the spoon he gave her halfway between her and the bowl. "A. Couple days?" She looked over at him, who grinned nervously and wrung his hands. He looked better, the cracks somewhat healed. But he didn't look completely better, a shadow of apprehension in his eyes. And tear streaks?

"YEEEP!! [Tuesays] AGO YOU [[Knock em Dead]] 4 FEW ENEMIES OF [Mine]!!!!"

Oh right that did happen. The orange Addison, the two Werewires. Spamton.

Pancake finally looked around at her surroundings. On her other side was a desk. And the wall was bright blue. So this must be-

"Why am I at your store?"

"EAHEAHEAH, PLACE F0UR YOU 2 [Rest In Peace] MY [[Friend Request Accepted]]!!" He patted her shoulder a couple times.

"Wait wait wait-" She looked back at him.

"WEE3LLLL YOU CAME EHEN I NE3 EDED [can someone help me?] [[Best thing to do-]] I C0ULD DO WAZ LET U STAY HEAR!!!"

"Oh, Spamton-"

"AND RHATS NOT ALL!! [Click Here!!] WE^RE R1DE OR D1E !!@" He was grinning brightly. He was sweating. Scared. She looked down at the bowl of what she assumed was soup.

"You okay?"

"NEVRR BETTER!"

"Spamton, I can tell when you're lying."

He inhaled sharply, his hands gripping his shirt. Static clouded his glasses. "DON-D0N T HAT3 ME..."

Pancake's brows furrowed, "why on earth would I hate you? Spamton-"

"YOU [[Got Caught in the Crossfire]]!!! HU RT!! TRYIN TO [someone help me!!] AND I THOIGJT, I [thought you would-]"

"Spamton, I *wanted* to help you. If someone was gonna beat up my best buddy, I'm gonna beat them up! If I didn't I wouldn’t have come when you called."

"BUT-"

"No buts," She placed a finger on his teeth. "I care about you, and if I get hurt in the process of protecting you, at least you won't get hurt. Or, well, more hurt."

His breath hitched, looking up at her with what she called sheer adoration as his glassed returned to their pink and yellow shades. With a blushing face to boot. Like he couldn't believe it. That she wasn't angry at him. He...genuinely does care it seemed.

He tentatively leaned against her, which she reciprocated best she could. Soaking up his warmth. Trying to ignore the fact they were touching and how cozy he felt and her own heart doing jumping jacks.

"Who was that Addison?"

"EAHEAHEAHEAH... pIP... DON-T. WANT TO [Chit-Chat] ABOUT IT."

Pancake shrugged. "Fair enough." She took a bite and her eyes widened. It WAS soup, soup from the Color Cafe. "Spamton, where did you get this?"

"YOI ASK TOO MANY [[Q&As]]."

*He did steal it!' she smiled at him. "Mhm suuuure!" nudging him playfully.

"HEE EY Y, WATCH IT [Toots!]" Spamton smirked back at her. She laughed, feeling her face warm.

"Thank you Spamton. I can't tell you how much this means to me." Spamton looked up at her. Pancake's heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened. Spamton's head titled.

'Oh dear'

"WhATS [The Sky Is Up]?"

'I really am that dense.'

"I-it's nothing."

'I think I love him.'

"YA SUR3??" He smirked.

*And it took someone beating the crap out of me to realize-'

"Yeah I'm just thinking. You're patching me up, hah! Uh, wondering how long I'm staying here."

'Don't make it obvious don't make it obvious don't-'

"HAHA WELL THEN!!! th4T SO? [Catch Some Z's] CUZ YOUR ST4YIN HER E A WHI LE!!!!"

Well, being this close to what she assumed is her crush, which explained so much as to why she cared so much and thought about him, that would not be a problem.

Still, if she can help it. Especially with THIS realization. She grinned at him, to which he stared back confused and kind of afraid.

"Does that mean I get to hug you more often?"

----------

Hope ya enjoyed!! Reblogs appreciated

Tagging: @dwdoesarts @speedstershipping @eternally-smitten @to-neet-you-nice

#🥞 cake writes #🥞 cake art #self ship stuff #Spamton #spamton x self insert #self insert #self insert x fictional other #self insert x canon #spamton <3 #Pancake #self shipping #tw violence #tw dismemberment #tw electrocution #yea

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monkey-network · 4 years ago

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Good Stuff: Pixar’s Soul

SPOILERS AHEAD

Reviewing animation is a passion of mine; you probably know that if you’ve followed me long enough. I enjoy doing it for everything new that comes as much as the good stuff of yore. I can’t tell you why I got into it long as I have or if I should consider a full time gig of it, all I know it’s that it’s as much my passion as many other things in my life. That really is a piece to a personal puzzle I’ve developed as I watched Soul, this film from a studio that I admittedly wasn’t sure if it could get its groove back after it felt like they were stumbling a bit. The SparkShorts are good, but Incredibles 2, Toy Story 4, and Onward especially didn’t resonate with me. Didn’t tell me Pixar stood out as much as they in the “Golden Era”. This one did, and let me say it kinda cut deep.

Off the bat, as I understand that the trailers were quite a turn-off, I came to know before watching this that they weren’t trying to reveal everything. Honestly, the trailers were purposefully misleading as the most of what we got from the “Inside Out Knock-Off Blue Blob” world was a little over the first twenty minutes and the very, very end for the climax, less than you’d believe. It is the point I wasn’t too invested in with how simple it all felt; it’s basically if Microsoft or Google developed your birthright. It luckily doesn’t blow smoke up the ass with the way it runs things, takes more shots at ethical philosophy than any religion I could think of, but there’s good reason why we’re not in this world for very long. The Soul world did it’s purpose, but a little too well because it really wasn’t interesting outside the bond between Joe and 22 and a few laughs. Like I said though, we aren’t in it too long before we jump back to Earth with something I should’ve expected with this film but was still blown aback. I’m talking BODY SWAPPED ADVENTURE, Baby! [[SPOILERS AHEAD]]

Far Enjoyable than Your Name, don’t at me

A good chunk of the film has 22 in Joe’s body, Joe in a therapeutic cat’s body, and I’m surprised at how much engaging it was. It helps that 22 is never by any means a nuisance and they actually pull off the mechanics behind the trope well where it doesn’t feel like 22 in Joe’s body is annoyingly all over the place once she gets used to it. Weird that all of New York didn’t seem to give a shit about a middle-aged man stumbling in nothing but a medic robe, but never crossed that line for me to say, “Okay, this shit is stupid.” But what really makes this, basically the majority of Soul work, is Joe (or 22) interacting with the city.

If there’s one great takaway for this, it’s indeed the musicality for the New York life. The barbershop, the subway, the jazz club, the tailor suite run by Joe’s mother, the living streets really make this city feel like a character in its own right. I say this film makes every person we meet count for something. The devil’s truly in the details; every location has a story to tell as well as remind viewers, myself especially, of people and places so close to life. The story paces along nicely too as we get to the “main event” before getting to the moment that made me cry the second time. I cried a total of four times, mostly in the latter half of the film because that was where things were certainly coming together. That was where, I doubt intentionally, the film hit me in the heart more than I could’ve imagined with the simple thought:

I was Joe and 22, and I still am from time to time

Sappy consideration, I know, but to get a little philosophical & personal for a bit. This film is generally about the direction of your life. Joe had a direction set in stone for himself to play the hottest jazz gig despite professedly doing/trying nothing else big with his life, living actively average you’d say. 22, the number which can mean “coming and going” since it’s a palindrome, has no direction despite being capable of understanding everything. As of now, I may only be in my early twenties, but I’ve felt like I’ve been both these characters at the same time, like a eternally spinning coin. I can feel directionless, having no clue to who I really want to be, but I know there is passion in me somewhere that I myself haven’t figured out yet but push forward with every major choice I make. I have both felt like I’ve done nothing and can’t do anything in life despite making it this far. But if there’s anything this film showed me, it’s that it’s alright.

If there’s anything that I can say describes Pete Doctor’s direction with this and Inside Out, it’s that he makes the most basic and simple human truths feel necessary, welcoming, and especially otherworldly. With Inside Out saying “it’s good to be more emotive”, Soul tells me “it’s good to enjoy the simple things in life.” Not to say you should live average and accept it, nor is every big moment you have will/should impact you the same way or the way you wanted, but appreciate those moments where things just go your way for a change. Where you can just look at the world, take a deep breath, and just feel comfortable with yourself to live another day. This isn’t a particularly surprising message, but it works because it fulfills everything it built up. Who else but Joe on that day, finally getting what he wanted after so long, can feel empty from it as opposed to the moments where he got to enjoy those enjoyably average moments he didn’t think he’d get along the way? And who else but him could show 22 that living doesn’t mean having a purpose or having that purpose in your mind 24/7.

You can just... live as everything does.

This film isn’t as honest as Inside Out, especially with the whole concept of the Great Before, but it still offers that pragmatic advice in a way that definitely sticks. It can feel like this film came out at a bad time with the given circumstances of our reality, but it’s as much a simple pat on the back to tell you it’s okay. I figure the execution won’t be for everyone, the film isn’t perfect plotwise, but to me it’s definitely a golden, just as mature light for modern Pixar. A considerable classic that I hope is given well with time as much as a chance with all audiences.

4 Out of 5. A Soulful Sensation of a Film

#Soul #pixar soul #soul movie #pixar #disney #animation #cartoons #movies #analysis #reviews #long post #Good Stuff

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hinerdsitscat · 3 years ago

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Eurovision 2022 as Chris Fleming/Gayle Quotes

Last year I did various Eurovision acts as John Mulaney quotes so this year I thought I’d try a different Comedian Who Deals In Weird Metaphors.

Austria (Lumix feat. Pia Maria, “Halo”)

Bulgaria (Intelligent Music Project, “Intention”)

Croatia (Mia Dimšić, “Guilty Pleasure”)

Cyprus (Andromache, “Ela”)

Czech Republic (We Are Domi, “Lights Off”)

Estonia (Stefan, “Hope”)

Finland (The Rasmus, “Jezebel”)

France (Alvan & Ahez, “Fulenn”)

Georgia (Circus Mircus, “Lock Me In”)

Iceland (Systur, “Með hækkandi sól”)

Ireland (Brooke, “That’s Rich”)

Israel (Michael Ben David, “I.M.”)

Latvia (Citi Zēni, “Eat Your Salad”)

Lithuania (Monika Liu, “Sentimentai”)

Malta (Emma Muscat, “I Am What I Am”)

Moldova (Zdob și Zdub & Advahov Brothers, “Trenulețul”)

Norway (Subwoolfer, “Give That Wolf a Banana”)

Poland (Ochman, “River”)

Romania (WRS, “Llámame”)

San Marino (Achille Lauro, “Stripper”)

Serbia (Konstrakta, “In Corpore Sano”)

Slovenia (LPS, “Disko”)

Spain (Chanel, “SloMo”)

Switzerland (Marius Bear, “Boys Do Cry”)

Ukraine (Kalush Orchestra, “Stefania”)

There were more acts this year, but due to time I couldn’t get to them all.

Image Text/Sources:

First Image: “Where do you think we are, Italy?” (source: “Davis II”)

Austria: “And everyone’s looking at me like I’m at an Eyes Wide Shut party uninvited.” (source: “Baby Got Back Brings Out The Worst in People”)

Bulgaria: “They should invent something for guys with this kind of affliction, like a VR system where he can believe he’s in a perpetual state of giving you a tour of his house.” (source: “W.U.G”)

Croatia: “Too bad he was married.” (source: “Showpig”)

Cyprus: “NYU is just girls in fedoras trying to get addicted to cigarettes.” (source: “NYU”)

Czech Republic: “Terry if you haven’t made your bed, throw it away, it’s too late to make it now!” (source: “COMPANY IS COMING”)

Estonia: “Hi, I’d like to report a stolen horse? Actually, don’t worry about it.” (source: “Valentine’s Day”)

Finland: “It’s very apparent that they haven’t seen the light of day since ‘94.” (source: “Gayle - Episode 38: Lizard People”)

France: (description: person standing in the woods screaming) (source: “Meeting Boyfriends”)

Georgia: “Why do I feel like that guy washes his hands with strawberry milk?” (source: “Gigi the Christmas Snake”)

Iceland: “Enough turquoise to get into Stevie Nicks’ house (no questions asked).” (source: “Sick Jan”)

Ireland: “I’m like ‘preteen at her Bat Mitzvah disassociating doing “Greased Lightning” choreography.” (source: “Showpig”)

Israel: “I should have known how you kept going on about ‘how welcoming the burlesque community’s been.” (source: “Polyamorous”)

Latvia: “But I was off my face on Terra Juice, so I didn’t know right from wrong.” (source: “Gayle - Episode 3: The Movies”)

Lithuania: “And on ‘sexy chanteuse,’ she punched me so hard in the jaw that I flew against a piano.” (source: “Showpig”)

Malta: “Those aren’t freaks, those are attractive people with heavily-vetted idiosyncrasies.” (source: “St Vincent, Crazy Pete and Kevin Magee”)

Moldova: “He thinks his vibe is all ‘Don Draper’ when it’s really more ‘Hertz Rent-a-Car’.” (source: “W.U.G.”)

Norway: “It may look like a 2010 Corolla, but it’s not: that is in fact his spaceship.” (source: “My Day with the Alien”)

Poland: “Zero qualms about going full Streetcar Named Desire at 2PM at a Bertucci’s.” (source: “Am I a Man?”)

Romania: “I have never just had a twosome.” (source: “Gary Johnson Ad”)

San Marino: “And the boyfriend’s jazzing around, all proud of himself, like a seagull who just pulled off a Dorito heist at the beach.” (source: “What To Do If Your Boyfriend Proposes on Christmas Eve”)

Serbia: “For 51 years of my life, I walked around looking like the leader of a jazz band, until one day, by a freak accident, I messed up in the shower and I used dog shampoo. Sure, I was humiliated, but Terry: the results.” (source: “Gayle - Episode 22: Beef Hutchins”)

Slovenia: “How nice would it be to have the confidence of a teenage coffee drinker?” (source: “Teens Who Drink Coffee”)

Spain: “And he had this big ass, this big proud ass, this Christmas goose, this terrific bassoon player’s ass!” (source: “St Vincent, Crazy Pete and Kevin Magee”)

Switzerland: “You know a guy got into Radiohead too young if even his pocket rejects him.” (source: “Polyamorous”)

Ukraine: “I’m like the kid at the school dance wearing the bucket hat, grinding with the fire extinguisher.” (source: “Gary Johnson Ad”)

Closing Image: “You think that shit happens to John Mulaney?” (source: “Davis II”)

#eurovision #eurovision song contest #eurovision 2022 #esc 2022 #text post meme #chris fleming #chris fleming quotes #gayle #gayle series #image described

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tomtenadia · 3 years ago

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Blind mistake

Rowaelin month - day 8

So, this fic was fighting me at the beginning. as I started, deleted and restarted a million times.

Then slowly the idea came and here it is. What I was not expecting was to write a A Little Braver AU.

Aelin and Rowan meet under different circumstances and are two different people from thee actual story. Aelin is still the captain at east station and Rowan still the airforce captain.

Yes, this is a happier fic but as Aelin said in KoA... she loved Rowan because it was him, the man who had known pain as deep as hers.

IN order to enjoy this fic you do not need to have read ALB. A part from Pete popping up for a brief second at the end, this is a complete stand alone story and no knowledge of ALB is needed.

Rowan sighed. His love life sucked so much that he ended up using a dating app. Since Lyria dumped him a year before he had been struggling to go back in the game. He had been on a few dates but so far none of the women he met had sparked his curiosity. Far too bland and with almost no personality or far too bothered by looks. Some of them had been downright stupid and he had been a gentleman and played along when all he wanted to do was run away screaming. The last nightmare had been a woman called Remelle who Lorcan had recommended to him. He had to feign food poisoning and pay the chef to let him escape from the back of the restaurant to flee the monster. He had paid the bill sneakily, and once home he had insulted Lorcan and his poor taste in women.

Now he was again in a restaurant, ready for probably another fiasco. He and the woman had chatted a bit and she had seemed interesting so he had dared to ask her out and she had accepted. On the paper it was all good. In reality he was getting ready for another crazy escape. Maybe he should just give up and live alone and become a grumpy old man.

He had a kingsflame on the table near him, their code to recognise each other at the restaurant. The fact that they knew very little about each other made him nervous. It was a recipe for disaster. He knew she was a personal shopper and that she liked movies and music. He was really dreading the encounter now, and started to realise that perhaps it had been a mistake. She could have lied.

Until he raised his head and he noticed the woman who had just entered the restaurant. He then spotted the flower pinned on her green dress as they had agreed. Gods, the woman was way too hot for him. There was a catch somewhere. His heart raced when realisation dawned on her face and she waved and started to walk to him. The smile. Damn, the smile could stop a man’s heart. The woman walking toward him was a goddess. He was expecting her to turn away for another table until she sat down in front of him at his table. Rowan was speechless.

“Sorry, I am late. Accident on the ring road. I stopped to give a hand to west station.” She used her hand to brush off the smudge of grease he had only just noticed she had.

“You stopped?”

“Yes,” she looked at him with a strange light in her eyes “I am a firefighter. I am the captain at east station.”

Rowan blinked twice. Shit. She was the wrong woman. She was not here for him. Of course. It was too good to be true. She had sat at the wrong table and a part of him was sad.

“I am Aelin.” she said and he knew that it had dawned on her as well that he was not her date “You are not Chaol.”

Rowan shook his head “I am Rowan.”

“Holy shit. I saw the kingsflame. The restaurant. And you smiled at me when I came in. I just assumed...” He did not want her to go.

“Ach, I was having second thoughts anyway.” He shrugged.

In that moment the waiter came and they were hesitant for a moment then Aelin grabbed the menu and started ordering, surprising him. Rowan got some wine for both and they placed as well their order.

“Our dates are late anyway. Maybe stuck in the horrendous traffic out there.”

“You will not hear me complain.” Said Rowan with a smile “so, you stopped and helped?”

Aelin nodded, sipping a bit of her wine “I couldn’t resist it. West station was there but there were so many cars involved that I had to something. The traffic wasn’t moving anyway.”

Rowan could not believe the woman in front of him. Not only she was a goddess. She had even stopped to help her colleagues save people from a car crash on her way to a date. Where had she been all his life?

The waiter came with their order and smiled at the expression of joy when Aelin looked at the amount of food in front of her. Another point for her. She had an appetite. He had no need of another date ordering a boring salad. He was a healthy eater but loved a woman with an appetite, especially because he loved cooking.

“So Rowan, what do you do?” She asked him while tackling the gigantic prawn on her seafood tagliatelle.

“I am an airforce pilot. I am a captain.”

Her face lit up “as in the uniform and all? And the awesome planes?”

Rowan nodded.

Aelin was about to take another sip of her wine when two figures stopped at their table. A brown-haired man and a blonde woman. Both had a kingsflames pinned on their dresses.

“Excuse me but you are with my date.” Said the stranger.

Rowan looked up from his risotto “finders keepers.”

“And he is my date.” Said the woman in a shrill voice.

“What he said.” Added Aelin while eating another prawn.

“We got stuck in traffic. There is a massive road accident on the ring road.” Chaol complained, not letting it go.

“Yeah I know. I stopped to help and I still made it here before you.”

“So what does this mean?” Asked Chaol.

Aelin stared at Rowan. It was a no brainer. Chaol was cute but Rowan was sex on two legs. Between the silver hair and the green eyes he ticked all of the boxes. And he was a pilot. Chaol was an accountant.

“You two can go on a date together.” She suggested and hoped they took the hint.

“That is rude.”

“Oh shoot,” said Aelin covering her mouth in fake surprise “I must have left the fucks I have to give in my bunker gear.”

Chaol looked at her aghast. The blonde woman turned on her heels and left.

“You missed an opportunity.” He added before he left as well.

As soon as he left Rowan burst into laughter and she joined him “no fucks to give…” he said trying to catch his breath “I have to steal this when my CO drives me nuts.”

“Ansel, one of my firefighters, she taught me that.”

“It’s fucking perfect.”

And both resumed their dinner without the awkwardness of a blind date. No stupid questions like how many siblings do you have or what is your favourite colour. No, with Rowan there had been a connection from the start and the joke had been the final proof.

“Most guys would have left running at my joke. I have a big and foul mouth. Not very lady-like.” She apologised. “I work in a male dominated place. Apart from Ansel and my two paramedics, I am surrounded by guys and well, they are not easily scared.”

Rowan chuckled “I am in the military. My CO uses fuck you as a term of endearment and one of my lieutenants has the record for the most innuendos in a sentence.”

“How many?” Asked Aelin curios.

“Ten.”

“No friggin’ way.”

Rowan nodded solemnly. Then looked at her and he was glad she sat at his table mistaking him for another man. They had known each other only for twenty minutes but he was dumbstruck by the woman.

She was fierce, intelligent and with a wicked sense of humour.

The meal had been perfect. Aelin had polished every single plate in front of her and also ordered dessert. And when she offered to pay for half the bill he had smiled. He had plenty of dates where the woman didn’t even offer. She took it for granted that he, being the man, was the one paying. He had no issues with that, he was happy to pay, but the fact that Aelin offered made him realise that she was different.

They left the restaurant and he gasped when he saw a red pickup reading Terrasen fire department on its livery, parked just outside the restaurant.

“Way to scare the patrons away.” He joked.

“Sorry. Yesterday I took a lift to work from a colleague and I forgot for a moment that I had a set the date for tonight after my shift. So I grabbed my work pickup to get here. I need to go back to the firehouse and return it.”

“I’ll follow, you drop off the pickup and then I drive you home.”

“I can take a cab, you don’t have to come all the way to the station and back.”

“Humour me,” he said giving her a beautiful smile and she accepted.

Ten minutes later they were at east station and she parked the pickup in its corner at the side and out of the way.

She saw Rowan getting off the car.

“Welcome to east station.” She said extending her arms. She pushed a button and the rolling doors slid up and two big trucks appeared in front of him. He had always wanted to see one up close.

“Cap,” said a man at her back “what are you doing here? I thought you were on a date?” He smiled “that bad? I told you accountants were a bad idea.”

Aelin laughed “looks like I got myself an airforce pilot instead.” She winked at him and Rowan’s heart skipped a beat.

“I’ll tell you next shift, Pete. I just brought back the pickup before Dorian kills me.”

She waved at her relief captain and followed Rowan in his car and told him her address.

While he drove she studied him. He was wearing a nice pair of jeans, a shirt and a black leather jacket. She should have guessed he was military. Aedion had the same posture and he was ex-army.

“Which house?” Asked Rowan, waking her up from her thoughts.

“The one with the blue door.”

He parked and walked with her up to the door “I had so much fun tonight,” she said to him, not wanting him to leave her.

“I am so glad that you sat at the wrong table. This was the best blind date ever.” He looked at her and wanted to kiss her so badly but they had just met and he did not want to pass a a pig.

She moved a step toward him “I am glad too.” And her lips brushed his cheek in a kiss “perhaps we could go on a proper date. One where we are actually meant to meet each other.”

Rowan sighed relieved “It would make me very happy.”

Aelin rummaged in her bag until she found a pen then grabbed his wrist and pulled up his cuff a bit and wrote down two numbers.

“The first one is my personal mobile number. The second one is the direct number to my office. I am known to leave my mobile in my bunker gear.”

“Thank you.”

“Let me know a date and if I am not free we can find a better one. Us firefighters have crazy long shifts so I need to be off.”

He took her pen and her wrist and wrote his number “then you text me. A day that you are off shift. I work regular hours. This makes more sense.”

He took a step down from the few step and she hated the idea of him leaving.

“Goodnight, Rowan.” She opened the door and looked at him one last time.

Rowan waited for her to disappear behind the door and then went back to his car and was grateful for the best blind mistake of his life.

#rowaelinmonth #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowan x aelin #fluff

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osakaso5 · 3 years ago

Text

IDOLiSH7 6th Anniversary Special Story: Full of Heart...

Chapter 2: Tearjerking Memories

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Torao Mido: Atchoo!

Toma Inumaru: Caught a cold, Tora?

Minami Natsume: Don't infect the rest of us, please.

Haruka Isumi: Maybe it's hay fever? Apparently that can get pretty bad in August.

Torao Mido: Or, someone's talking about me... A pretty woman, most likely.

Toma Inumaru: Sure, whatever.

Shiro Utsugi: I must say, I'm impressed that you could reserve such an expensive-looking bar for us.

Torao Mido: It was no trouble at all. Besides, Haruka wanted to try going to a bar.

Haruka Isumi: He promised to take me here if I won in a game of Konpira Fune Fune. And I did.

Minami Natsume: Hee hee... Oh, Isumi-san. I didn't know you had what it takes to become a geisha.

Toma Inumaru: Don't teach Haru anything weird, now.

Shiro Utsugi: Since we're at such a fine establisment, we should make the most of it.

[Snap]

Shiro Utsugi: I'll have a Bloody Mary.

Toma Inumaru: You're going to drink? I thought we had a meeting...

Shiro Utsugi: This is a bar. We're not here to see the sights. Now go on, Inumaru-san, order something.

Toma Inumaru: A-alright. Uh...

Shiro Utsugi: As artists, you should enjoy life to the fullest. Don't worry about breaking the rules every now and then.

Minami Natsume: Should you be breaking the rules, Utsugi-san? I believe you're still an ordinary employee of the very strict Tsukumo Productions...

Shiro Utsugi: It'll be fine. I'll just climb the corporate ladder until I'm in a position where I can change the company to suit me.

Haruka's Thoughts: This Shiro Utsugi guy is really aggressive...

Torao's Thoughts: He's supposed to be our newbie manager, yet he's the one pushing us around...

Minami's Thoughts: I'd expect nothing less of the man Ryo-san chose as his last minute replacement.

Toma's Thoughts: I don't think I've ever seen someone order a drink by snapping their fingers before...

Shiro Utsugi: Let's have a toast before we begin our meeting. Order something, everyone.

Toma Inumaru: I'll have beer.

Torao Mido: A gin rickey.

Minami Natsume: Oolong tea.

Haruka Isumi: Orange juice.

Shiro Utsugi: And there you have it. That'll be all.

Shiro Utsugi: Now, would you mind showing me your childhood pictures before our drinks arrive?

Minami Natsume: The pictures for our "Welcome to Kids Room" guest appearance?

Shiro Utsugi: Yes. Did you bring them?

Toma Inumaru: I've got mine, yeah.

Haruka Isumi: Me too. Show me yours first, though. I wanna see what you looked like as kids.

Toma Inumaru: No way, that's too embarrassing. You go first, Haru. You probably look the most similar to when you were little, anyway.

Haruka Isumi: You think so? Okay, fine. Here you go.

Torao Mido: Let's see...

Minami Natsume: My, how adorable.

Toma Inumaru: Whooa! You were super cute! With a round face like that, I'll bet you were a little angel!

Haruka Isumi: Don't call my face round.

Shiro Utsugi: You were a textbook junior idol, if I've ever seen one. You'd have made a good duo with Mitsuki Izumi of IDOLiSH7.

Torao Mido: But that guy's my age.

Minami Natsume: ........ To think that Kujo-san whisked him overseas not long after this picture was taken...

Toma Inumaru: I'd have been so worried for him...

Minami Natsume: As would I.

Haruka Isumi: I came back safe and sound. Nothing bad happened to me either, other than a rude wake up call.

Haruka Isumi: If that hadn't happened to me, I wouldn't be the main vocalist of an outlaw group like ours now.

Haruka Isumi: Pretty cool, huh?

Toma Inumaru: Hey cool outlaw, your orange juice is here.

Haruka Isumi: Whoa! There's an orange slice on the glass! Wow, that's so neat!

Shiro Utsugi: Now, let's toast.

Toma Inumaru: Yeah!

Toma Inumaru: ŹOOĻ...

Minami, Haruka, Torao, & Shiro: Rules!

[Clink]

Minami Natsume: Am I the only one who finds this cheer somewhat... lacking?

Toma Inumaru: We might wanna rethink it, yeah.

Torao Mido: There's a lot of dinosaur stickers plastered all over your house, Haruka. What's this one called?

Haruka Isumi: Uh... That's Dee, the Growlysaurus...

Toma Inumaru: Ah, I remember those! You must've really liked Growlysauruses. Should I buy you one sometime?

Haruka Isumi: I-I don't need one, stupid! How old do you think I am?

Haruka Isumi: Give me my picture back. It's someone else's turn.

Torao Mido: I'll show you mine.

Toma Inumaru: Well?

Toma Inumaru: ...Your limbs were freaking LONG! This is basically just a tinier version of how you look now...

Minami Natsume: Oh my. I quite like the way you looked at this age.

Torao Mido: Yeah, I bet you do.

Minami Natsume: Is this a transformation belt?

Haruka Isumi: It is. I kinda wasn't expecting you to bring a photo like this.

Torao Mido: I learned something recently. Namely, that even a perfect man like me is more interesting with some mundane characteristics.

Haruka Isumi: I guess some kid who plays with transformation belts is a lot more approachable than a flawless celebrity.

Torao Mido: Exactly.

Toma Inumaru: You don't gotta make excuses, you know. The truth is that you just thought it was a nice photo, right?

Toma Inumaru: You said you like all this sentai and superhero stuff. For what it’s worth, I think the pic's nice, too.

Torao Mido: ...That wasn't why I picked it, really.

Toma Inumaru: Yeah, right.

Torao Mido: It was a calculated decision.

Toma Inumaru: No need to play tough. It's fine that you chose a picture you liked from when you were little.

Torao Mido: I told you, that's not why.

Toma Inumaru: Ahaha! You're starting to sound a little too defensive.

Torao Mido: ........ Whatever. Maybe I'll just use a different picture.

Toma Inumaru: Oh, stop sulking, for Pete's sake!

Shiro Utsugi: Don't try to tear it up, now. I agree that you'll most likely garner more attention with a picture like this, Mido-san.

Torao Mido: I knew it. Okay, I'm going with this picture for the show. What about you, Minami? What kind of picture did you bring?

Minami Natsume: Mine isn't particularly interesting. Anyone can look up what I looked like as a child, after all.

Torao Mido: But you did bring a photo, right?

Minami Natsume: I did.

Shiro Utsugi: Would you be so kind as to show it to us?

Minami Natsume: Very well. Here it is.

Toma & Haruka: ...So cute!!!

Haruka Isumi: You were adorable as a kid, Minami! Like a girl or something! A really cute one!

Toma Inumaru: Kinda like Tora, you looked like a mini version of what you're like now, but in a different way! You've definitely got the air of a celebrity here!

Shiro Utsugi: This must be from around the time you were filming the movie Kagurazaka. Even as a child, you had very fine features.

Minami Natsume: Hee hee. Thank you. I do enjoy a bit of unfiltered praise every now and then.

Torao Mido: Was this taken at your home? That's a pretty big piano you've got.

Minami Natsume: Yes. I took piano lessons when I was younger.

Minami Natsume: I had to quit playing when my work got too busy to allow for it, but I finally resumed my lessons a few years ago...

Toma Inumaru: So you're basically a musical genius. That's cool.

Minami Natsume: Hee hee... Yes, it is cool. Now then, would you mind showing us your picture, Inumaru-san?

Toma Inumaru: Sure thing!

Haruka Isumi: What kind of photo did you pick?

Toma Inumaru: I figured at least one of us should bring in something goofy, so I got the funniest one I could find!

Torao Mido: Funny... Ah, you're at a festival, wearing a happi!

Shiro Utsugi: Oh, you've even got a sarashi wrapped around you. It looks very authentic.

Minami Natsume: You must've lived in a neighborhood that loved festivals.

Haruka Isumi: I'm jealous. I wish I could've worn clothes like this to a festival, too.

Toma Inumaru: I could take you to a festival around where I'm from. The neighborhood grannies would be all over you, Haru.

Haruka Isumi: Yeah, I wanna go! This picture's pretty nice. I bet it'll be good for the show.

[Phone rings]

Torao Mido: Hmm...? Oh, now that's unusual. Sogo says he needs to ask me something in person.

Toma Inumaru: Ask him where he is, and if he's nearby, go see him. It could be something urgent.

Torao Mido: But aren't we in the middle of a meeting?

Shiro Utsugi: We're all done now. You may go.

Toma Inumaru: Oh, that's it?

Haruka Isumi: We could've stayed at the agency if all we were gonna do is show our pictures...

Minami Natsume: Now, now. At least we got to deepen our friendship at this lovely bar.

Torao Mido: I asked Sogo. Turns out he and Tamaki Yotsuba both happened to be in the neighborhood, so they're headed here.

Haruka Isumi: Yotsuba's coming, too? I bet he's gonna freak out, because he's never been in a place like this before.

Haruka Isumi: I suppose I'll just have to teach him how us adults hang out.

Toma Inumaru: Says the boy sipping on orange juice.

[Door opens]

Tamaki Yotsuba: Good evening.

Sogo Osaka: Pardon our intrusion.

Haruka Isumi: Yotsuba!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Whoa... This place has a super mature vibe... I knew ŹOOĻ's up to no good.

Sogo Osaka: That's rude to the establishment, you know.

Tamaki Yotsuba: It's not my fault this place looks like people come here to make shady deals.

Sogo Osaka: It's calming. And there are plenty of places like this in the world.

Sogo Osaka: Good evening, Mido-san. ŹOOĻ. I'm sorry for dropping by on such short notice.

Shiro Utsugi: Good evening, Osaka-san and Yotsuba-san.

Sogo Osaka: Good evening. You're Utsugi-san, yes? ŹOOĻ's manager.

Shiro Utsugi: That’s right. Thank you for remembering.

Torao Mido: This has to be the first time you're asking me for anything. What do you want to drink?

Sogo Osaka: Just oolong tea, please.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I want this one! The frozen cocktail that looks like ice! I bet it's yummy.

Sogo Osaka: No, Tamaki-kun. It's alcoholic.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Really? Do they have a version without the booze?

Minami Natsume: I think the bartender could make you one.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Awesome! I'll have one of those.

Haruka Isumi: I want one, too.

Torao Mido: I'll have the alcoholic version. Should I go ahead and order you one too, Sogo?

Sogo Osaka: Ah... Um, alright.

Tamaki Yotsuba: So-chan!

Sogo Osaka: It's fine. This drink is basically just a sherbert, it won't get me drunk.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Don't you know that ice is just frozen water?

Sogo Osaka: I do know that.

Tamaki Yotsuba: So it's still booze! It's just been frozen!

Sogo Osaka: It can't be that strong. And besides, it's the same as yours.

Tamaki Yotsuba: So what if it's the same?

Sogo Osaka: Our matching drinks would make a nice picture for social media.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I can't believe your first approach to everything is still to be some kind of businessman.

Sogo Osaka: It's not as if people can tell how close we truly are based on a picture of some food. If that were the case, we wouldn't truly understand each other at all.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Especially since everything you eat is bright red.

Sogo Osaka: And you only have eyes for King Pudding.

Toma Inumaru: What're you mumbling about?

Sogo Osaka: It was just a mini meeting. We're done now.

Minami Natsume: Much like us, then.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I did it for you guys' sake too, y'know.

Torao Mido: Our drinks are here. Let's toast.

Haruka Isumi: Does MEZZO" have a cheer for when you toast?

Tamaki Yotsuba: A cheer?

Haruka Isumi: It makes things more exciting.

Tamaki Yotsuba: We've got a cheer for calming Re:vale down..?

Sogo Osaka: But it's a bit too long for making a toast. Hmm, a cheer for MEZZO"...

Toma Inumaru: Don't think too hard about it. It can be something simple, like one of you says "MEZZO"" and the other one says "rules".

Sogo Osaka: I see. We could give that a try. Tamaki-kun, which part do you want to say?

Tamaki Yotsuba: The first part.

Sogo Osaka: Alright. Well then, everyone raise your glasses...

Tamaki Yotsuba: MEZZO".

Sogo Osaka: Rules.

[Clink!]

Sogo Osaka: So, what I wanted to ask you is...

Torao Mido: Hold up! We need to talk about your cheer first. Any thoughts!?

Sogo Osaka: Thoughts..? Tamaki-kun, what do you think?

Tamaki Yotsuba: It's kinda short.

Haruka Isumi: Totally. So is our "ŹOOĻ Rules!"

Minami Natsume: Isumi-san. Be careful not to hurt Inumaru-san's feelings.

Toma Inumaru: Ahaha! It's fine! Not like that cheer was my best effort, anyway...

Sogo Osaka: Thank you for the suggestion, Toma. We probably can't use this cheer all the time, but we'll try to make use of it when we can...

Toma Inumaru: Don't sweat it, seriously! It was just the first thing that came to my mind! You don't even gotta use it!

Sogo Osaka: I-I'm sorry if we can't use it often enough.

Toma Inumaru: I'm telling you, it's FINE!

Sogo Osaka: Thank you. That's very nice of you to say. Mido-san, may I tell you why we're here now?

Torao Mido: Let's hear it.

Sogo Osaka: To tell you the truth...

- - - -

Torao Mido: Ah, Ito-san. That brokerage firm CEO who likes traveling and photography...

Sogo Osaka: Yes, him. He took a picture of me once.

Sogo Osaka: And when we discussed his camera, he told me that he saves all his negatives...

Torao Mido: So he should still have them? Just go meet up with him, then.

Sogo Osaka: We don't have that sort of relationship. He may be my father's old friend, but I've been disinherited, so...

Haruka Isumi: Disinherited?

Sogo Osaka: Being disinherited means your parents have cut ties with you.

Haruka Isumi: You were adopted..? And he said you were a disappointment and chased you out?

Sogo Osaka: No, we're biologically related. I might still be a disappointment... But I don't regret my decisions.

Sogo Osaka: I wanted to live as a musician.

Minami Natsume: What a wonderfully sympathetic story. I like you. The world needs more artists like yourself.

Sogo Osaka: Natsume-kun...

Minami Natsume: I hereby pledge my support to Osaka-san. Mido-san, you simply must do something to help him.

Torao Mido: Like what..? I haven't seen the guy in ages, either.

Toma Inumaru: You should still have an easier time getting a hold of him than Sogo. At least call him once.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Toracchi, please! If you call him, I'll stop calling you an evil rich guy!

Torao Mido: I didn't know you called me that in the first place... Fine. I'll give him a call.

Sogo Osaka: Thank you.

Torao Mido: It's no trouble at all, really. You may be an heir with a strict upbringing, but I'm a spoiled youngest son.

Haruka Isumi: So did this Ito-san spoil you, too?

Torao Mido: He owns a boat that I got to ride on a few times, not to mention he's got a few unique side ventures.

Sogo Osaka: Unique side ventures...

Torao Mido: He never told me about them in much detail. He may be a CEO, but he doesn't have any family to share his wealth with.

Torao Mido: So his side ventures have to do with finding said family... ...Ah, he picked up.

Torao Mido: Hellooo? Ah, Uncle Ito? It's been so long! Yeah, it's me, Torao.

Toma Inumaru: That's how I talk to the old ladies from my neighborhood!

Tamaki Yotsuba: He speaks just like Rikkun when he's asking for something!!!

Sogo Osaka: So this is what it's like when you're the youngest child... I wonder if even Iori-kun has a side like this...

Torao Mido: Ahaha. I'm doing fine, just fine. I've got a friend here who wants to talk to you, do you mind if I put him on?

Torao Mido: Here you go, Sogo.

Sogo Osaka: Thank you so much, Mido-san.

Torao Mido: Hmph. Let's just agree that you owe me one.

Haruka Isumi: I can't believe you're still trying to act tough, after sweet talking the guy like that...

Sogo Osaka: Ito-san. It's been a while. This is Sogo. ...Yes, that's right. Sogo Osaka.

Sogo Osaka: Ah... You bought an IDOLiSH7 CD? Thank you very much.

Tamaki Yotsuba: He knows us!

Minami Natsume: This bodes well.

Sogo Osaka: Is it at all possible for me to borrow certain old photo negatives from you..?

Sogo Osaka: I need the photo you took of me and my uncle in our garden. It's very important... Really!?

Tamaki Yotsuba: What'd he say!?

Sogo Osaka: He said he'd reprint the photo for me!

Haruka & Tamaki: Awesome!!!

Toma Inumaru: Yay! That's great!

Shiro Utsugi: Congratulations! Let's all have another toast!

Tamaki Yotsuba: MEZZO"...

Minami, Toma, Haruka, Torao, & Shiro: Rules!!!

Sogo Osaka: P-please, be quiet, everyone. Thank you, Ito-san. I'll come get the photo in a few days.

Sogo Osaka: Where are you now? ...What?

Sogo Osaka: The North Pacific..?

To be continued...

#idolish7 #anniversary story 2021 #translation #i7 #trigger #re:vale #zool

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