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something-tofightfor · 3 years ago

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Locked Down Part 13: The Breakdown

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Word Count: 9,259

Rating: M (slightly raunchy). There’s mention of what happened to Dieter, but not in detail. Language. Sex. Alcohol.

Summary: Things on he set of Cliff Beasts 6 continue to go downhill, and without Dieter’s daily set presence, it’s noticeable.

As the man’s departure date nears, the two of you admit to a lot more than either of you ever planned to - but it only leads to more questions and uncertainty.

Author’s note:

This chapter ended up being longer than the others, but I needed to get to a certain spot before I cut it. I hope you understand.

We divide from canon a little more here, but it’s not too much - just to keep things flowing the way that I’ve been writing them.

Also, with this chapter, I’ll be taking a short break from posting a new one every other day - this is the last piece that I have written as of right now - but I DO have two other Locked Down related pieces in the works that I would like to finish. I am also ITCHING to get back to Jay and the Catfish Popeboy in “Caught On” - and I have a Javi P story that’s just about finished ... so don’t worry - this story isn’t DONE, I’m just taking a pause in the main chapters to get some other things done (I’ve written 100k for this story in less than a month, so it’ll be nice to diversify)

Catch up on the other parts here: Locked Down Masterlist

Six days later, you were finishing with filming for the day, carefully packing your cameras up for the night. It had been a bad day on the set - Carol actually had a full on meltdown, going off on Darren about changing her scene to one with no lines and moving her to the back of the group without warning. Krystal’s response to that had been a small tantrum of her own about how she deserved the spotlight, Sean trying to play peacekeeper along with Dustin. But then Lauren stepped in, raising her voice and getting into both Krystal and Darren’s faces. That effectively halted filming for nearly an hour while everyone calmed down, but it had thrown everything off - including your work, because you’d had to try and figure out which horrible situation deserved your attention the most.

And at the sight of Jenna standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, you knew the day was about to get worse. “Jenna.” You sighed, zipping the camera bag. “Done with your quarantine? I didn’t know -” “Are you busy?” She stepped closer, dropping her arms. “Just got in a little while ago, and I haven’t been up to see Dieter yet. I wanted to talk to you first.” Shit.

“Yeah. I was planning on meeting a couple of the crew for dinner, but I can cancel.” Truthfully, you didn’t mind doing that, even knowing that the conversation you were about to have wasn’t one that you’d enjoy. “I’d say we could go into my room, but I don’t know if he’s in there, so -”

“We can use one of the office rooms.” She gestured with one hand and you sighed, slinging your camera bag over one shoulder. “Cleared it with Anika and Ronjon. It won’t take long, so you’ll still make dinner.” That doesn’t sound good.

In silence, you walked toward the main lobby with Jenna, heart pounding in your chest. Ronjon and Anika were both behind the desk, the blonde meeting your eyes as the two of you passed her. You saw sympathy in her expression - which surprised you, though you didn’t have long to dwell on it as the door to the small room closed behind you. There were two seats, but instead of taking one of them you leaned against the edge of a table, gripping it with both hands. “Jenna, I -”

“Could you have stopped him?” Her arms were crossed again, the woman staring at you with wide eyes. “Dieter, I mean. Do you think you could have stopped it from happening in the first place?” You didn’t know what to say at first, and so you gave yourself a few moments to think before answering. I wish.

“I don’t think I could have stopped him, no. I might have been able to intervene sooner if I’d been in the room, though.” You looked down, fighting back the sadness that was gathering at the center of your chest. “I should have been there. He invited me to hang out with all of them, and I didn’t because I didn’t want to be around any of it, but I should have. For him.”

“He told me over the phone that he woke up laying on your lap. That you were the first thing he saw.”

“I didn’t think he realized it was me. He opened his eyes and then after a second, was focused on Anika.” Lifting your shoulders in a shrug, you went on. “I froze, Jenna. I was scared and I froze, and it could have meant that he died in my arms.” Biting down on your lower lip, you met her gaze. “I’m sorry I didn’t do more. I’m sorry that even though I was here, I let him down. I have to look at him and know that I could have done more for him in that situation, and… didn’t.” She said your name, stepping closer, but you were on a roll, finally able to say the things that you’d been keeping silent about for weeks. “You said you were happy that I was going to be here with him while you were gone, and what good did it do?”

“I’ve seen him high. And I’ve seen him out of it, but I’ve never seen him like you did.” Closing the distance between you, Jenna took a seat, gripping the arms of the chair tightly. “You can’t be upset with yourself for not doing more, because I honestly don’t know what I would have done in that same situation.” What? “I’m not accusing you of not doing enough. I’m asking you this because I have an idea of what he means to you, and so I can’t imagine what seeing him like that would have been like for you, or how much you blame yourself right now.”

“It was awful. He was so pale, and just … heavy.” You shuddered at the memory, closing your eyes. “It was bad, Jenna. And everyone else was just sort of making jokes about it, except for me and Anika, and …” “He said he kissed her?” He told her that? Jesus. He’s focused on that kiss. “In front of you? Why -” “He kissed her on the cheek.” One side of your mouth lifted in a small smile. “The first thing he did when he sat up was hug her. Then, before he pulled away, he kissed her cheek and thanked her. I actually felt sort of bad, because the next thing he did was ask where I was going.” “You tried to leave? Why?” I don’t know.

“I didn’t know what else to do.” Rubbing at your eyes, you let out a breath. “I didn’t know what he wanted and I didn’t want to interrupt their moment, and so I just stood up, and he saw me… he kicked everyone out of the room, and then it was just the three of us.” She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it, frowning.

“Do you know if he’s used since? I’m just trying to figure out what I’m going to walk into with him. He sounds alright on the phone, but you never know.” “He got rid of it. Everything that was left, except the pot.” She looked shocked, but let you continue. “Flushed most of it. Dissolved the LSD. I cleaned up a little bit the night it happened, but he did the rest of it on his own. Just … asked me to be in the room with him.” But has he used since? “I’m not sure if he’s smoked since, because I’m gone a lot during the day, but I haven’t seen him do anything except drink. And it’s always been with dinner, not just while we’re hanging out.”

“Ok.” She closed her eyes, nodding. “Ok, that’s good then. It sounds like he’s… doing better.”

“I think he is.” Bringing one thumb up to rub at your lower lip, you met the woman’s eyes. “He’s been in a better mood lately. He’s focused on the new movie, seems excited about that script and that project, so that helps. He’s looking forward to that.”

“Yeah, I am too.” She grinned, standing up. “Montana’s a hell of a lot closer to my husband than Europe, and there’s going to be shit to do outside.”

“Oh. Dieter said he wasn’t allowed to have anyone out there, that it’s in his contract. You -”

“Dieter isn’t. But since most of my work technically can be done remotely if it needs to be, I’m allowed to have my husband fly in if I want. And he might not, but it’s nice to know I have the option, unlike here.” You felt yourself breathe a sigh of relief. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe Dieter about the clause, but hearing that it was actually the case from someone else was still encouraging. That’s normal, isn’t it? To be relieved about this? “Your gift is still delayed, by the way. A goddamn month later, and it’s still on backorder.”

“No big deal.” Pushing off the desk, you crossed your arms over your chest. “Unprecedented times, right?” She rolled her eyes and moved away from you, heading for the door. “Jenna?” Pausing with her hand on the knob, the woman turned her head to look back at you. “I hope you never have to see him like that. It was the worst few minutes of my life.” “I don’t doubt that.” She chewed on her lower lip for a second, but then her expression shifted into a wide smile. “But don’t worry. I’m going to tell him exactly how I feel. He needs to hear it from someone like me, that’s known him for years and isn’t telling him what they think because of their own reputation.” Is that a good idea? Wait, what? Reputation? You frowned, trying to figure out what - and who - she’d meant. You didn’t want her to push Dieter, but at the same time, you realized that Jenna likely could push boundaries with him in a way that very few people could. He won’t fire her. He needs her too much. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon. Go enjoy your dinner. I’m not going to tell him that we talked unless you want me to.”

“It can stay between us.” With a single nod, you made your decision. It’s not like I told her anything she didn’t already know. You followed her out of the small office and back into the lobby. After watching the woman grab her suitcase from next to the front desk, she headed for the elevator, and you turned for the lounge, rubbing at the space between your brows with two fingers. What a long fucking day.

—

When Dieter came to your room later, he was in a horrible mood. You knew the reason, and so you bit your tongue at first, but when the man slammed the bathroom door - followed by stomping through the bedroom and toward the balcony door before flinging it open, you couldn’t hold back any longer. “If you’re going to have an attitude with me, Dieter, you can sleep in your room tonight.”

He paused, spinning around to look at you. “Excuse me?” Don’t you dare play dumb.

“You heard me.” You were sitting cross-legged on your bed, your laptop resting on the mattress in front of you as you answered emails. “You’re not the only one having a shitty day, Dieter. And I’m not going to let you take it out on me.” Cocking your head to one side, you stuck your tongue into your cheek, refusing to look away. “So if you’re going to stomp around and slam doors without saying a goddamn word to me, I think it’s better if you sleep in your room tonight.”

“I…” You watched him deflate, the main staring at your for long seconds before raising one hand and swiping it over his face and then through his hair, groaning. “I’m sorry. Jenna came back today, and she was … she definitely said what was on her mind.” Good. “I needed to hear it, but that doesn’t… make it easier.” He reached behind his body, pushing the door closed and then stepped back toward where you sat, a look of concern on his face. “You had a bad day? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, it was just a rough day on set. I think everyone’s… getting to that breaking point, you know?” Hitting send, you waited for confirmation and then closed your laptop, sliding it down toward the foot of the bed. “Everyone just wants to be done, and they’re taking it out on -” “On everyone else?” Yeah. He sat on the edge of the mattress and reached for you, his palm settling over your knee. “That sucks.” Laying your hand over his and rubbing your pinky over one of the rings he wore, you agreed. “Can I see what happened?”

“If you want. It’s a lot of yelling, and I’m sure none of the footage will be used, but I can show you.” To your surprise, he said that he still wanted to see, and so you left the bed, walking to your camera bag and pulling the day’s memory card from it. You hadn’t transferred anything yet, and had to use your laptop to watch the footage, Dieter easing himself into a sitting position next to you during playback. “The morning was ok, nothing different than usual, but then they reset for one of Carol’s scenes, and… it all went to shit.”

He was silent as the yelling started, but even Dieter sucked in a breath at the sight of Carol storming away from you, followed by Krystal’s rebuttal. You felt him wince as the situation devolved, and by the end of it - Lauren shoving Dustin away by the shoulder as he tried to keep her away from the director - Dieter’s mouth was hanging open in surprise. “If this is how your days are going to go, I’m going to start coming back to set every day. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“No?” You closed the laptop again, reaching over to set it on the table. “Great. And we still have a month to go.” The man chuckled, reaching behind you to put an arm around your shoulders. “I really don’t know what tomorrow’s going to be like, Dieter. Carol was pissed, and Lauren looked like she wanted to kill someone.”

“That’s actors for you. So dramatic.” He let out a breath. “They’ll be alright. Might be a little tense tomorrow, but if they really want to get this over with and get out of here, they won’t keep that up.”

“I hope not.” Turning your head toward him, you kissed the man’s shoulder through his shirt, closing your eyes. “What did Jenna have to say?” Part of you was genuinely curious, and the other part wanted to see what he would tell you - if anything. “I knew she was going to be back soon, but I didn’t know when.”

“The thing I love most about that woman is that she doesn’t sugarcoat anything.” He leaned his head down and against the top of yours. “But that’s also the worst thing about her, because a lot of the shit she says is really hard to listen to even if it’s the truth.”

“She cares about you, Dieter.” Crossing an arm over his chest, you hugged him. “And you’re the one that called her to tell her what happened, so you had to expect -”

“Believe me, the first time you’re on the shit end of one of Jenna’s rants, you’ll understand.” He fell silent, but when Dieter continued speaking, you could hear the hesitation in his voice, almost like he didn’t want to admit that what he was saying was the truth. “I deserved all of it. She might not have been here to yell at me in person, but if the look on your face was what it was and you’ve only known me a little while, I can’t … I shouldn’t have told her over the phone, but I didn’t want to wait.”

“Well don’t do it again, and you won’t have to worry about Jenna getting upset.” You knew it wasn’t that simple, but you wanted to lighten the mood as much as you could. “Was she alright when she left? Were you alright?”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “We both are. I’m lucky to have her around, and I know it.” Dieter’s chest rose and fell after he went quiet, the two of you staring at the darkened TV screen. He’d been vague with you about what he and Jenna talked about, but still, he’d told you more than you’d expected. It made you feel worse about doubting him - even briefly - and so you closed your eyes, scooting closer and tightening your hold on him. “What’s -” “Just been a long day, Dieter. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Would have been here sooner, but after she left my room I went and swam a bunch of laps. Needed some time to think.” And he still came here in that mood. Damn. “Would you really have made me sleep in my room tonight?” Seriously?

Sitting straight up, you looked over at the man, arching a brow. “I don’t know, would you have slammed the balcony door, too? Or stomped back through the room to get to -” “Maybe.” He winked at you, Dieter’s mouth curving up into a subdued - but still significant - smile. “We’ll never know, will we?” Groaning, you let the man pull you back against his chest, both of his arms tight around your body. “What do you want to do tonight? It’s late, so -” “You.” Clearing your throat, you tilted your head up to kiss the underside of his chin. “Since it looks like you’ll be spending the night after all.”

—

Time continued to pass and the days on set got more and more stressful, though everyone did their best to ignore what was happening in favor of plowing through the remainder of filming.

It worked until the second week of February, when a stunt went wrong and Lauren was injured - badly enough to the point where she needed to leave the hotel and get actual medical treatment, her return status questionable. You’d caught the whole thing on camera, but hadn’t realized it until later while watching through it, Dieter peering over your shoulder and covering his mouth with one hand as the earlier event played out. It could have been so much worse.

It should have been enough, but it wasn’t, Darren insisting that everyone continue on, finding ways to film around Lauren’s scenes. It meant reshoots and changes in set dec. It meant new scripts, and it meant more time redoing things that should have already been done - which in turn meant you emailing Carmen to explain that you still couldn’t leave and come back to work because the shoot was dragging.

The woman hadn’t been happy, but because you were under contract for Cliff Beasts and your original job was still scaled back, there was nothing that she could do, accepting your explanation and asking that you keep her in the loop if anything changed.

While Lauren’s absence dragged on, everyone pivoted to filming the stuff that had been planned for the very end of the shoot - all of the group promo, interviews and individual sound bytes. At first, you were excited for the change, but when you realized what it meant - that as soon as that finished, Dieter was done, your mood took a nosedive.

Knowing that he was leaving sooner made even the easy days on set much worse, because it was like every moment the two of you spent together was a countdown. And it was especially difficult because following the conversation the two of you had about what came next, he’d started treating you differently when the two of you were in the same space, even in public.

He found ways to touch you, even if it was just holding your hand briefly or hugging you. He ate with you whenever you took breaks, sitting at the same table and making no attempt to hide your connection, the man focused on what you were saying and doing. When other cast members ran into you while you were eating in the lounge or relaxing in the library or dining room, he wasn’t shy about draping an arm around your shoulders to keep you close, almost like he was daring someone to say anything about it.

No one did, though. No, that’s not … 100% true. Before she’d left the hotel, Lauren had congratulated both of you, reminding you not to let him treat you like shit or take advantage of you. Carol had been surprised, the woman’s eyes moving between you and the man quickly, a look of disbelief on her face. Gunther’s winks had become more frequent, the man teasing both of you about how close you always seemed to be, but both you and Dieter brushed it off, knowing that he was just giving you a hard time.

It was easier to be around him in public than you’d thought it would be, but you realized after a few weeks that that was only because it felt so natural - and was much simpler than trying to sneak around or pretend like you weren’t into the man. I wish we’d done this sooner. You knew that it would make it much more difficult to say goodbye if the two of you continued to grow closer, but you couldn’t bring yourself to change things, wanting to enjoy every moment you had with him both for personal reasons and to use as part of your assessment once you’d separated. I need everything I can get.

You wouldn’t have said that you were flaunting your relationship with him, but at the same time, you knew that that was how it appeared, and so you were always conscious of your behavior when Anika was present. She’d warmed up to you - slightly - but there was still distance there, and you saw no reason to antagonize the woman. I have a few weeks left. What’s the point?

One night, while you and Dieter were sitting and eating dinner, the sound of Jenna’s voice startled you out of your conversation, both of you turning to look at where the woman stood. She was grinning - the smile on her face larger than you’d ever seen, and you had to wonder why, at 7 PM on a Tuesday, she was so happy.

You didn’t have to wait long.

“So I just got confirmation on our flights, Dieter. We’re out of here Monday morning. Three weeks at home before we have to head to Montana, so that gives you time to…” She kept speaking but you tuned her out, your attention moving from Jenna and back to him, the realization of what she was saying sinking in. Less than a week. He’s leaving in less than a week.

“What?” Dieter’s reply was sharp, the man’s posture changing as he stiffened. “Monday? I thought -”

“Yeah. I know we were waiting for confirmation from production on when you’d be done with your scenes, but I got it a few hours ago, so I just booked everything, and…” She trailed off, the woman taking a step back from the table and looking between the two of you. “Oh, shit, Dieter. I didn’t … fuck, I thought the two of you talked about it, and…” “No. I hadn’t mentioned it yet.” He wet his lips, attention coming back to you. “I didn’t -” “I’m glad you get to go home soon, Dieter.” Your voice didn’t sound like your own, but at least it was steady, even though your throat was tight. “Take care of everything and see some friends before you …” He said your name but you were already standing, putting your napkin down on top of your half eaten meal. “I’m going to go for a walk. I need to… need a minute.”

He called after you as you turned away from the table, but you didn’t listen, fighting to blink back the tears that were threatening to fall. Six days. Six days and then he’s gone. You’d known it was coming, but the surprise of being told when without warning had shocked you. You made it as far as the office you and Jenna had spoken in before you felt fingers close around your arm, the touch halting you in your tracks. “I was going to tell you. We thought it was going to be the end of next week, but -”

“Dieter, it’s fine. You don’t have to… it’s fine.” “You’re not fine.” He tugged on your arm, urging you to turn and face him, and when you did, you were met with his other hand rising to cup your cheek and a tiny shake of his head. “I should have said something, but I didn’t … didn’t want to tell you before I was sure about when, and …”

“I’m not mad. I’m just sad, even though I knew it was coming, and -” He stopped your words with his lips, Dieter leaning in to kiss you quiet, and even though you were still upset, you leaned into him, both hands reaching out to grasp at his shirt, the fabric bunching between your fingers. He’d never kissed you so thoroughly in public before, hadn’t ever risked that type of contact, and in that moment, you knew that the realization that within a week you’d be apart was getting to him, too. “I’ll stay. I’ll stay a couple extra weeks, and then just go straight to -” “No.” You shook your head, still clinging to him. “No, Dieter, you’ve gotta go home. You need some time before you head out, and no matter what happens, it’s still going to … we’re going to have to…” Just fucking say it. “We’re going to have to say goodbye for a while.” He didn’t say anything in reply, instead pressing his mouth against yours again, the man backing you up so that your shoulders were against the wall, his body covering the front of you. He doesn’t want to say goodbye.

That was all you needed to know, and you felt some of the tension leave your body at the way he was touching you, both of your hands releasing his shirt and moving to settle against his lower back. Gotta enjoy this while I can. “We should go upstairs.” His voice was thick, the man groaning as he pulled away from you, putting distance between your bodies. “I need to be alone with you.” Need. Not want. At his words, you gasped quietly, opening your eyes to find that he was staring at you, the desire in his not at all concealed.

“Ok.” Feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, you nodded. “You’re gonna have to move though, Dieter. I’m kind of… trapped.” He didn’t hesitate to step backwards, but instead of moving completely away, he reached for your hand and linked your fingers together, pulling you in the direction of the lobby.

He didn’t let go even at the sight of Anika behind the desk, the blonde raising one hand in a wave at the two of you, Dieter raising your linked hands in response. Dieter what are you doing? That’s not… But you caught the woman’s eye, trying to let her know that you weren’t trying to rub anything in - and unless you were mistaken, there was the hint of a smile on her lips. That’s… interesting.

—

Dieter’s need wasn’t sated after the two of you fell into bed together, the man taking you apart twice with his hands and mouth before he’d even removed any of his clothing. He’d alternated between staying absolutely silent and rasping praise into your ear, the man’s approach that night different than it had been in any of the earlier times you’d been together. You’d both dozed off, your head on his chest and his large hand gripping your bare hip, not a single inch of space between you.

When you woke up to get a drink of water, carrying the half empty bottle back into bed, he’d finished it and then tossed the empty plastic to the side, hauling you back onto his lap, hands trailing over every inch of your skin that he could reach while he kissed you senseless before you’d broken - unable to take it any longer - and lowered yourself onto him.

It was slow and mellow, your movements almost lazy as your hips rolled forward to meet his, and unlike many of the other nights you’d spent together, Dieter came before you did, his arms crossed over your back and his fingers firmly pressed into your skin, the man’s hips stuttering beneath you as his muscles tensed and he buried his face in your neck. He was done after that, and though it took the two of you - fingers working in tandem over your slick, sensitive skin to push you over the edge before you climbed off of him and laid down, you realized that you were entirely spent, too, your body nearly overwrought with emotion and satisfaction.

You had five nights left - five nights that you knew you’d be spending together, and if they were all going to be like that one, you understood that you’d likely be using all of your remailing time at Clifton to pull yourself back together, recovering from the aftermath of his presence. And that was fine with you - you knew that every memory would help to make the time apart more bearable, that you could look back on things fondly instead of with regret, and you hoped that Dieter would, too, especially since it seemed that he was just as upset about the rushed departure as you were. “I’m going to miss you.”

He spoke from the darkness beside you, the tips of his fingers running over your side. “Yeah?” He hummed in affirmation, the man’s chest rising as he inhaled. “Won’t be the same without you here, either.”

“I’d stay if you asked me to - I meant that earlier. I don’t have anything to get home to, it’s all just the same damn thing there as it is here.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to. That defeats the purpose, Dieter. Putting it off for a few extra days isn’t going to change anything.” Even though it would be nice. “You’re going to go home, and you’re going to enjoy that California sun, and you’re going to be thankful as fuck that you aren’t stuck in this hotel anymore.” You were swiping your thumb over the center of his chest, eyes closed. “I’m sorry I overreacted earlier, with Jenna? I just wasn’t expecting that tonight. And if you’d told me in a different way, I wouldn’t… I would have been able to handle it.”

“She should have waited. She shouldn’t have come to the restaurant, or just … just fucking blurted it out. She knows better.”

“She’s excited to go home. You have to remember, except for a couple weeks, she’s been away from her husband for months. You’ve had someone to spend time with on a daily basis, and I don’t blame her for being excited to know exactly when she’ll be back home and for how long.” You weren’t mad at the woman, and you hoped that he wasn’t either.

He stayed quiet, breathing deep and even, and for a few minutes, you assumed he’d fallen asleep. But Dieter surprised you, shifting beneath you and rolling onto his side, the man moving forward so that he could press his chest against yours. “I don’t want to wait until right before I leave to try and say everything, so I… I’m going to start now.”

“A… alright?” You were confused, but determined to let him speak, trying to focus on what little you could see of him in the dark. “What do you need to say?”

“I didn’t … mean for this with you to go so far.” He sighed, the sound turning into a halfhearted chuckle. “Thought we’d be friends and maybe have some fun while we were both here, especially after we figured out how well we get along. Thought it would just be temporary.”

“We’re not very good with sticking to that, are we.” He laughed quietly in the darkness, the sound one that you’d file away and keep, and Dieter tightened his hand against your back. “Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if we’d kept some boundaries, Dieter. Just sex. No kissing outside of the bed, no cuddling or touching unless we were naked, no getting personal. I wonder if -” “I’m glad we didn’t.” He cleared his throat. “I’m 40 years old. I need to stop acting like I’m not. Need to stop looking forward to my next fix or my next fuck, need to stop taking these bullshit roles and -” “Did you have fun here? Any fun at all?” He thought for a few seconds and then answered, the man’s voice filled with surprise.

“I did. It was nice to work on something that wasn’t so serious. There’s a lot of shit I didn’t like about this movie, but there were definitely good parts, too.” Me. I’m one of those good parts. “And as fucking annoying as it’s been to have all these rules, I think … I learned a lot, too.” Good. “Getting back to my original thing though … I didn’t mean for things to get to this point, but I’m glad they did.”

“Are you?” He nodded, closing the distance and kissing you gently, his lower lip catching on yours when he went to pull away. “I am too.” You heard the sound of the hotel creaking in the wind as both of you thought over what he’d just said, but Deter’s next words stole the breath from your lungs, forcing your eyes all the way open.

“Told my brother about you.” What? You sat straight up, pulling the sheet up to cover your chest before reaching over to flip the light on, and then stared down at Dieter, the man still positioned with his cheek pressed against the pillow. “What’s that look for?”

“You … what did … what?” It went against what you’d decided - taking time apart to figure out how you felt, keeping things between you and the people that had been around you during the filming, not jumping ahead to what could happen. “Dieter, what did you…” “Told him I met someone while filming. That you were different from Mara and Kenny and Andie, and that you weren’t pushing me for more right away and that it was fucking with me because it wasn’t what I expected.” Ok, that doesn’t sound so bad. It… he’s telling people about me? But you remembered back to Dieter telling you that if you wanted to tell your family, he didn’t mind - and you wondered if he’d been waiting for you to tell him that the same was alright on his end. “He’s not going to say anything to anyone, so don’t worry about that, but -”

“And?” You pressed your lips together, your hold on the fabric between your fingers tightening. “What … what did he say?”

“He…” Dieter looked uncomfortable for the first time - almost uncertain, if you were being honest with yourself - meeting your eyes as he answered. “He said I’d be a fucking idiot if I didn’t try to keep you around.” Oh. “Sent him your Instagram account, showed him the picture of us from New Year’s, and he …” Dieter’s lips twitched and you realized that he was trying to hide a smile. “He uh, he approves.”

You’d looked Dieter up when you first met him, had done a little sleuthing on his accounts and had seen a few pictures of his family members, but his brother’s profile had been private, which meant that you’d only seen what was public. “If things don’t work out with you, your brother’s pretty cute, Dieter. I know he has kids, but…” He rolled his eyes and you laughed, though you felt your chest filling with warmth at the man’s admission that based only on what he’d been told - and had been able to see from your feed - his brother approved of you as as potential partner for Dieter. Dieter the Oscar winning actor that I’ve only known for a few months. “You’ll have to thank him for me, I wasn’t expecting to -”

He said your name, and you realized how serious he sounded, immediately going quiet. Yeah? “This is different. And I want it to be.” I want it to be too. “Three… well, four months is a long time, and it might even be longer…” He trailed off. “You know what my reputation is, and -” “Is this your way of telling me that that’s too long for you to go without sleeping with someone?” Tilting your head to one side, you tried to joke even though you didn’t want to. I’m the one that suggested we take time to think about this. I’m the one that made him agree to it.

“No, it’s me trying to tell you that I’m not gonna sleep with anyone.” What? “You won’t be there, and you have no reason to trust me, but … he’s right, I would be a fucking idiot if I just … screwed it all up because I wanted to get laid.” He ran a hand through his hair, the man’s lips pushed out in a sad pout. “I don’t wanna screw this up.”

“I trust you, Dieter. You gestured with one hand, indicating the space between yourselves. “This? It didn’t just have to be us. There are other single women here right now that would have been more than happy to keep you company if you’d asked.” He frowned again. “I knew what this was in the beginning. Even after we started sleeping together, there was never … any promise made. And you know what?” Lowering your hand, you picked at the blanket between you, eyes on the movement of your fingers. “If you go and do another movie, and you meet someone on that set that you connect with? Then this wasn’t -”

“Don’t fucking do that.” He sat up, too, using his fingers to tilt your chin up. “I’m not flying back home and looking for someone else. I’m not even thinking about anyone else because all I fucking think about is you, and that isn’t going to change no matter how goddamn far apart we are.” He froze, Dieter’s eyes going wide. “Oh, fuck. Oh shit.” He looked terrified but you moved quickly, climbing onto his lap and winding your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck. Oh, Dieter. He clung to you, and for the first time, you realized that you weren’t the only one in over your head when it came to what you felt. But we still need to… we still need to think it through.

“Well I’m not planning on sleeping with anyone else either, Dieter.” You were stroking his hair as you spoke, knowing that he could feel your heart pounding in your chest. “Don’t want to.”

“Good.” You felt his hand against the back of your head, fingers splayed. “Because I don’t want to think about that.” Neither do I.

The two of you stayed like that for a long time, holding each other and just trying to process the admissions that both of you had made. This is a lot. But then Dieter’s hand began roaming over your back, his other dropping to join it, and without much encouragement, you turned your head enough to kiss his cheek, Dieter’s beard soft beneath your lips. He slid his hands around to your ribs and you arched your back, Dieter dropping his head to mouth at the skin of your throat and collarbone while you continued to card through his hair.

You’d thought that both of you were too exhausted to go another round, but when you eased off of his lap and crawled back beneath the blanket and next to his body, finding Dieter firm against your belly, you were thrilled to have been wrong.

—

The next days passed quickly, to your disappointment. You were insanely busy on set, running from interview to interview in order to get your few minutes of time with each of the cast members individually, as well as when they were assembled as a group. You’d thought that capturing that content would have been simpler than anything else, but it required lots of pauses while they changed clothes and had their hair and makeup redone in order to give the appearance that everything had taken place on different days. Movie magic sucks.

By Friday afternoon, during one of the group press sessions, you were standing in the background, camera hoisted over your shoulder while someone else asked questions. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood - including Carol, whose facial expressions seemed genuine and her interactions with Dustin and Sean weren’t as forced as they had been previously. You caught yourself smiling at some of the answers given, needing to step away from your camera and cover your mouth at one of Krystal’s deadpan answers.

When that interview wrapped, and both Darren and the woman in charge of the press days had dismissed you, you started to pack up your camera but were stopped by Dieter’s voice, the man calling your name. “What?” Spinning to look at all of the cast, you were surprised to see that they were still sitting on their chairs, watching you expectantly. “Dieter, what’s -”

“You should interview us. Ask a couple questions. You’ve been around us for months, and if there’s going to be some sort of Q&A to come from what you film, why not now, close to the end?” He was grinning at you, a light in his eyes, and even though you wanted to say no, a quick look at the others told you that they were on board, too. Alright. “Just a few minutes. Get us on a good day, hmm?”

“If … you guys really want to, that’s fine by me. I just need to set my camera up.” They dispersed to give you the time you needed, but Dieter lingered, crossing his arms over his chest and standing behind you. “What?”

“I know I just dumped this on you.” He cleared his throat. “But I’ve seen your show. You interview people all the time.”

“Dieter…” Peering through the screen, you watched as his face filled the frame, the man grinning broadly. “I interview people about food and cultural locations, not actors about their movies and careers.” Poking your tongue out between your lips, you pointed at the chairs. “Go sit in the middle chair. I need to make sure this is lined up right.” He did as you asked, plopping down on the chair that Dustin had been on and giving you another wide smile. Alright, looks good. “Say something. Gotta check the mic.”

“You’re gonna kill it.” He winked. “Make sure you ask us good questions.” Fighting back a smile of your own as he ended the sentence with your name, you pressed stop and then played it back, listening to the way his voice sounded through your headphones. Perfect.

“We’re all good, Dieter.” Turning the camera off, you pointed down the hall. “I’m going to go get water, do you want anything?” He shook his head, reaching into his pocket to pull his phone out. Turning away, you headed for catering, making a left down the main hall and passing Anika, the woman’s eyes wide. “Everything alright?”

“I am looking for Dieter.” She shook her head. “All of the others are in catering, but he -”

“He’s down the main hall, over by the big conference room.” You pointed. “We’re all doing a final interview before we wrap for the day.” You saw the relief in her eyes as she thanked you, one hand moving to the pocket of her jacket. Weird. “He was on the phone when I left, but you can see if he’s done?” She thanked you again and then headed off in his direction while you entered the catering area and grabbed an unopened bottle.

You didn’t want to interrupt Dieter and Anika, so you delayed walking back for a minute or so, scanning the room and realizing with some shock that after only a few more weeks, you’d never see it again. We’re so close to being done. All of us. When you couldn’t delay things anymore, you headed back for the hallway, purposely walking slowly. You heard their voices before you saw them, and as you turned the corner, watched as the woman handed Dieter a small package, his lips splitting into a grin as he closed his fingers around the box. Wonder what that is. He saw you then, Dieter’s eyes locking with yours as he shoved the package into one of his pockets, the man mumbling something at Anika that you didn’t catch. Weird.

When she turned around to look at you, you realized that neither of them looked guilty, which only confused you more. She wouldn’t have delivered him anything that she assumed was drugs. And he’s leaving so soon, he wouldn’t need them. So … “Anika, are you busy right now?” She shook her head, narrowing her eyes. “You should stay. Maybe you can help me with some questions since you’re a fan -”

“Really?” She widened her eyes, looking between you and Dieter in disbelief. “I don’t know that I’m allowed, I’m not supposed to -” “Stay.” Dieter’s voice cut in, both of you turning to look. “You’re supposed to do whatever you can for us, right?” The woman nodded, her smile broadening. “Then stay.” He raised an eyebrow until she’d agreed verbally, and then Dieter turned toward you, holding a hand out for your water bottle, which was only partially full. “Lemme have that.”

Dieter uncapped the bottle, tilting his head back to finish the contents in one long drag, and by the time he’d done so, you heard the sounds of the others coming back, their voices carrying down the hallway. Alright, here we go. “Where should I stand?” Anika was next to you while the rest of the cast were getting situated. “I don’t want to be in the way, and -” “You can lean back by the window, but make sure you stand in front of the curtain so you don’t block the light.” She moved quickly, and when you looked back, you saw that she was focused on the cast, her eyes bright. “Got any questions?” Shaking her head no, you wrinkled your nose. “Think about it. I’ll ask again before I finish.” Turning back to face the group in front of you, you flipped on the camera, making sure it was focused. “Are all of you ready?”

“Yes!” Sean clapped his hands, then rubbed them together. “What are your questions? Send ‘em over. Hit me. Hit me. Hit me.” You lowered yourself into the waiting chair, crossing your legs and leaning closer, eyes on the man.

“Alright, Sean. Since you’re so excited to keep talking, the first one’s for you.” He nodded enthusiastically, some of the other cast laughing. “Do you think that all the work you’ve done with your lifestyle brand helped you deal with all of the restrictions while we’ve been filming between the two locations, or do you think that it hurt, because you’re so used to -”

“Well.” He interrupted you, the man wetting his lips as he shifted on his chair. “That’s a good question, and I have a great answer for you.”

—

Twenty five minutes later, you were almost certain that your interview was the best one of the week, and it wasn’t even close. You’d managed to get all of the cast members talking with and to each other, jumping in and answering questions without prompting. It was a little chaotic, but it was fun, and a few questions in, Anika had stepped forward, showing you her phone’s screen where she’d typed out questions of her own.

You’d asked them, turning around to focus on the way she reacted to the responses, and were happy to see that she looked thrilled that they’d taken the time to answer, the woman’s eyes shining as she focused on the people talking, and those questions had segued into others - still relevant and very different than the other types of questions that the cast had been answering for the previous few days. I need to wind this down.

You didn’t want to ask a typical closing question, but you knew that in order to get the footage that would be relevant to your job, you needed to. “Alright. So I know that you’re all ready to end the day.” Clearing your throat, you looked over the assembled group, letting your eyes linger on Dieter for just a few seconds before you moved on to Dustin. “And I know that we’re all sad that Lauren couldn’t be here for this today, but I’m going to ask one final question and you’re all going to think it’s dumb … but it might give someone else watching a little more motivation, alright?” Everyone nodded, waiting, and so you blew out a quiet breath, lifting both hands. “We’ve been in this hotel a long time, right? And we’re all excited to finally finish this movie and get home … but what’s the most important - or most valuable - thing that you’ve learned while filming Cliff Beasts 6 in this quarantine bubble?”

They went through some standard answers - Krystal said it was valuable experience for her future film career, and it taught her that there’s more to filming than filters and background music. Howie’s reply was that it helped him calm his temper and work through his frustration instead of letting it overwhelm him. Dustin stared directly into the camera and said that it gave him a chance to work on his relationship with Lauren. Sean’s answer was so long-winded that Carol cut him off and said that the most important thing she’d learned was that she couldn’t wait to never be forced to listen to Sean’s bullshit for four months at a time again, and then once everyone had stopped snickering, she said that the whole process actually made her reevaluate the advice she took from the people in her life, the woman ending with a pointed stare into the camera as she silently mouthed her agent’s name.

But Dieter stayed quiet until the very end, the man intently listening to the others as they spoke, both hands resting on his lap. “You’re up, Dieter.” Giving him a hopeful smile, you waited, unsure of whether or not you’d get regular Dieter or the cocky version.

“It’s kind of a boring answer,” he started as he lifted one hand to scratch the side of his head. “But while we were here, I learned what’s important to me. There wasn’t much to do and we couldn’t go anywhere, and having that much time alone isn’t always good for an actor, but this… for me?” I needed it.” He wet his lips, staring at you instead of the camera. “I don’t know that I’d agree to do it all over again, but … I’m glad I came here.” He’s not talking about the movie. There’s no way, so that means… he’s talking about me.

Clearing your throat, you stood from your chair, moving to stand behind the camera. Keep it together. “I think that’s it for us, unless anyone’s got something else to say?” Everyone was quiet for a few seconds, Dustin’s head turned toward Dieter like he was trying to piece together what the man’s answer meant, but then the group erupted, all of them standing from their chairs and assuring you they they had nothing to add. Ok. Good.

Powering the camera off, you began to pack your stuff up while the cast dispersed, and before too long, you realized that it was only you and Anika left in the hallway. Dieter left? That surprised you, but you didn’t let it distract you, and you were even more shocked when the other woman grabbed your tripod, sliding the strap over her arm.

“I can help you.” Incredulous, you agreed, and the two of you headed for the lobby. “Thank you for letting me stay. Is that what it is like every day with them?”

“Not even close.” You laughed. “They were behaving today. A lot of them are really upset they’re still here, so they’re taking it out on each other and on the production team. But giving them a chance to be themselves is … a good break for them.” And none of them are as annoyed with me as they are with Darren, so that’s good, too. “We’re almost done, though. Dieter’s out of here on Monday, and then the rest of us are -”

“Are you sad that he is leaving?” She stopped, turning to face you. “I would be, especially if I was you.” What does that even…

“Yeah.” You decided to be honest with her. “Yeah, I’m going to miss him, Anika. We live on opposite sides of the country, so I’m not sure when … or if I’ll see him again after this.” You let out a quiet breath, looking down at your feet. “It sucks.”

“You will.” She said your name - for the first time in weeks, and you focused on her face, the woman’s gaze unguarded. “And he will miss you, too.” I hope so. “Here.” She handed you the tripod, pointing at the desk. “I should get back to work. I’ve been gone too long.” You didn’t know what to say - or whether or not the woman even wanted you to say anything, so you didn’t, giving her another small smile as you hoisted the tripod over your shoulder and stepped toward the elevator. That was fucking weird.

—

Dieter wasn’t in your room when you got back to it, and so you spent some time organizing things and beginning file transfers after you’d changed into a more comfortable outfit, readying yourself for when the time came for you to make notes. You figured that the man was packing, starting to stuff his belongings back into suitcases so that he didn’t need to do everything last minute. The thought made you sad, and once it was in your head, you couldn’t let it go. With both Dieter and Lauren gone, you’d be alone again, your entire end of the hall completely quiet. That wasn’t something that you wanted to think about, even though it wasn’t going to be for longer than a few weeks. Full circle, you realized. Everything will be just like it was.

The thought depressed you more than you wanted to admit, as did the realization that you had less than 72 hours left with Dieter. Fuck. You were determined not to let it get to you - determined to get through the time you had left with him without getting too emotional or giving him any indication that you were second guessing your decision to use the time apart as a necessary break. Because if he asks me not to, or offers to stay again, I don’t … I don’t think I’ll be able to disagree.

You were in a situation that you hadn’t ever thought possible, and you knew that it would be a true test of your willpower to actually go through with what you and Dieter had agreed on. Was it the right call? You wouldn’t know for months. And that’ s the worst part. Thoughts running wild, you continued to stare out the balcony door, your attention only drawn by the sound of your door opening and Dieter stepping inside.

He was dressed in his robe and pajamas again, and you weren’t able to suppress your smile at the sight, turning fully to look at him. “Hey, you.” His greeting wasn’t out of the ordinary, and even though on the inside, you were a mess of emotions, you tried not to let him see it, tapping the space next to you on the bed. “Nah, not yet.” He stood in front of you, holding one hand out. “C’mere, I’ve got something for you.”

—

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sour--disposition · 4 years ago

Text

Behind His Back

harry lewis x fem!reader

please see my pinned post for masterlists/request info :)

requested: Hello, could you do something where reader is best mates with cal and he brings her to shoots and in vids and such and her and Harry are kinda together but no one knows then someone accidentally outs them thanks !! 🙌🏻

Yours and Cal’s laughter reached the spot that the other guys had picked for filming long before the two of you did, poking and chasing each other as you barrelled through the doors. Cal was joining in on some game that they were filming for moresidemen and he’d dragged you along so you could sit off camera and poke fun at all eight of them.

As soon as you’d fallen into the venue, a bright smile had stretched across Harry’s face. Seeing you as happy and full of life as you were made him impossibly happy, as soppy as it sounded. All he wanted was to wander over and pull you into his arms, maybe surprise you so you let out that funny squeal you did whenever she shocked you.

But he couldn’t.

Although he’d never said it, it was sort of an unwritten rule of Cal’s that you were off limits for any of his friends. Maybe that made it all the more exciting, sneaking around behind your best friend’s back. You knew that it wouldn’t end well, it would either end in heartbreak between you and Harry or anger from Cal. Neither was an outcome you wanted, but one of them was bound to be inevitable.

Ethan had noticed Harry staring at you and was prepared to embarrass his best friend, not knowing that he was one of the only people that knew the truth about yours and Harry’s relationship. “Gonna go give your girlfriend a smooch, Bog?”, Ethan asked, grin as bright as ever as he shoved Harry playfully in your direction.

You and Harry both froze, eyes wide in surprise and fear. The humour drained out of Ethan’s face as he watched yours and Harry’s reactions and a tense atmosphere immediately fell over the group. Even the camera crew looked awkward.

You could see Harry desperately trying to conjure up some sort of excuse for what Ethan had just said. Ethan looked like he would do just about anything to retract his words. But what was said was said and you just had to deal with the consequences.

“What the fuck is he on about?”, Cal asked, voice harsh and angry. His eyes were fixed on Harry, practically pinning him to the spot. “Harry. What the fuck is Ethan on about?”.

“Look, mate-”, Harry started, words getting caught in his throat.

“How could you?”, Freezy spat, voice like venom. He turned to you, looking at you like you’d just taken a knife to his back. “And you?”.

“Don’t be mad at her, Cal”, Harry pleaded, voice desperate.

“I’ll be mad at whoever the fuck I wanna be mad at!”, Cal shouted, making Harry jump and sending a wave of anger coursing through your veins.

“You know what, no”, you started, leaving Cal’s side of the room and walking to stand in between the two of them. “You have no right to be mad. We’re adults. We don’t answer to you. I don’t answer to you”, you stressed.

You could tell that the others in the room had no idea what to do. Guilt was written all over Ethan’s face and varying levels of worry and awkwardness seemed to be spread throughout the rest of the guys. Everyone was following the discussion like a ball in a tennis match.

“I live with him and you’re my best friend, I’m kind of involved in this!”, Cal exclaimed. You mumbled something under your breath that neither Cal or Harry heard, but it only seemed to antagonise Cal more. “What?”, he demanded.

“I’m just saying, last time I checked, it’s not you sneaking me into your apartment, but whatever”, you commented casually.

“Y/N”, Harry warned from behind you, taking a few steps closer to you.

“I’m not going to pick between my best friend and my boyfriend!”, you cemented. “If you’re going to make me pick, you’re making the decision for me”, you told Cal, a finger pointed towards him. “And it won’t go in your favour”, you cautioned.

“You’d pick Harry over me?”, Cal asked, looking genuinely offended. “I’ve known you since we were 12”, he reminded you.

“I love him”, you said, voice suddenly small and shy. “And if you don’t want any part of that, then I don’t know what to tell you”, you shrugged before turning your back and walking out of the venue.

Harry stood stock still. Everything in his body was telling him to chase after you, tell you that he felt the same way, but he couldn’t get his body to move. The shock of Cal finding out and then you telling everyone that you loved him, it left him paralysed.

“Is anyone gonna go after her?”, Vik asked, eyes tearing between Harry and Cal.

“I’ll go”, Harry and Freezy said at the same time.

“She won’t wanna see you right now, mate… In the nicest way possible”, Harry told his friend, leaving him no time to answer before following you out of the venue and finding you a few feet away, sat on a bench.

“Hey”, Harry said, catching your attention. He sat down next to you, forearms resting on his thighs as he leaned forwards. “That could’ve gone better”, he whispered, pulling a sardonic laugh from you.

“You think”, you snorted.

“I love you, too”, Harry blurted, barely giving you time to finish your sentence.

Before you had a chance to say or do anything in response, Cal was stalking away from the venue doors and towards the two of you. “Cal-”, you started.

“Look”, he sighed. “I reacted badly. I shouldn’t have gotten angry, alright”, he huffed. “I was just caught off guard, I had no idea”, he defended.

“That was sort of the point”, you chuckled. “Because we were worried about what you’d say”, you explained. “Or that you’d react like this”.

Harry sat still beside you, always unsure of what to do or say when it came to disagreements between you and Cal, and it was only made worse by the fact that he was in the middle of the situation. He let his hand leave his lap and join yours, squeezing around your fingers supportively.

“Nothing I say is gonna make this go away?”, Cal asked, face pulled with pain.

“No”, you said simply, a sense of finality settling in your voice. “If you love me enough to be worried about Harry hurting me, then you love me enough to let me love Harry”, you told him gently. “And, in the nicest way possible, it really has nothing to do with you”.

Cal sat down next to you, a heavy sigh leaving his chest as he sunk into the bench. “I feel like I should’ve seen this coming”, he complained.

“To be honest, mate, you really are clueless”, Harry chuckled from beside you.

“How long have you been together?”, Cal asked you, looking up at you from his dejected slump.

“Officially, almost three months”, you told Cal.

“Unofficially?”, he asked warily.

“Nearly six”, you admitted.

“How did I not realise?”, Cal groaned, dropping his head against the backrest of the bench. “I can’t believe I missed it”.

“We were really good at hiding it”, Harry shrugged. “It was like mission impossible to be honest, you made everything quite inconvenient”, he jibed, earning him a swat over the head from Cal.

“At least I never heard you shagging”, Cal sighed. His eyes went wide as a silence fell over you and Harry, a smirk threatening to peak through onto your lips. “Are you fucking kidding me!?”, he exclaimed, almost jumping up out of his seat.

“Yeah, none of those one night stands were one night stands”, Harry mumbled as he itched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry, and all”. You could see Cal cringing, knowing that he’d heard his two best friends have sex with each other couldn’t have been a fun thought to have running through his mind.

“If you excuse me, I am off to pour acid into my ears”.

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bestiesenpai · 3 years ago

Text

Youtuber Nanami

We’ve never seen Hanse and Nanami in the same room before...I’m just saying, the chances of them being the same person are higher than 0...gender neutral reader and no content warnings for this :) 11.8k words

(s/n) = nanami’s screen name

Nanami Kento wasn’t what usually came to mind when one thought of Youtubers. He was a salaryman, wearing pristine suits and going to work at ungodly hours. He had a stern face and rarely spoke about himself unless asked, preferring to keep most conversations short and to the point.

But Nanami didn’t think of himself as a Youtuber. He liked to refer to himself as a home cook who just happened to make videos and post them to Youtube. He had amassed a good two million followers and he didn’t show his face or hands, not even speaking as he cooked.

All Nanami dreamed about when he was at work was coming home and filming his next project. As an avid foodie, he was constantly thinking up new recipes to make. At first, filming himself had been a way of documenting his skills and keeping track of recipes without having to write them down, but as time went on people seemed to become enthralled with him.

“It finally came.” Collecting the mail on an early Saturday, Nanami’s smile was hard to contain as he grabbed the box that was waiting for him. He’d put in an order almost a month ago for this item and as he speed walked back to his apartment, his heart thumped with joy at getting to use it.

“It’s beautiful.” Holding up the cat bread mold, Nanami was itching to get to his kitchen and put it to use. Grabbing his camera, he began to prep his filming space. He was lucky to have such a large east facing window that his dining table could sit in front of and get the perfect light for his videos.

Making sure everything was perfectly positioned, Nanami pressed record and started to add ingredients into his mixing bowl. It was perfectly silent in his apartment, the most ideal environment to film in. Nanami didn’t add any background music to his videos, preferring to let the natural acoustics of his actions shine through.

Waiting for the dough to proof, Nanami flicked through some comments on his Youtube videos. He didn’t really care about what people had to say about his content, he only did this for himself, but sometimes it was nice to see what other like-minded individuals had to say. And he’d be lying if he said the comments about how aesthetic his videos were didn’t make his ego swell a bit.

When the bread was done and popped out of the mold in a perfect cat head shape, Nanami had to bite his lip to stifle a pleased sigh as he turned the camera off. He’d made it a point not to reveal his identity, refusing to let even his whole hand be in a shot and he wasn’t about to let it slip now with a hint of his voice.

“Kento you’ve really outdone yourself.” Biting into a slice of toasted bread with strawberry jam, Nanami smiled fondly at his creation. There wasn’t anything that could ruin this moment for him, not even the sudden knock on his front door.

It was a good thing Nanami was so good at setting up and taking down his cameras and lights, he didn’t want to explain to whoever was on the other side what exactly he did in his free time.

“(Y/N), hello.” As soon as Nanami opened the door and saw you, his next door neighbor, a light blush painted his cheeks. You’d moved in about six months ago into the corner unit next to his and Nanami had been smitten ever since.

“Hi Nanami.” You seemed equally as bashful, waving with a few fingers before tucking your hands behind your back. Meeting his eye for a moment, you let out a nervous giggle. “I was wondering if you’d gotten any mail addressed to me? I was supposed to get a letter from my grandma but I think the mailman might have given it to you instead.”

“Let me check.” Nanami had been so preoccupied with his bread mold that he didn’t bother to check the other mail he’d gotten. Taking a step away from the door, he was about to go further into his apartment but stuttered to a stop. “Would you like to come in?”

“Sure.” Slowly stepping in and shutting the door, you rocked back and forth on your heels. Nanami was glad you couldn’t look him in the eye otherwise you would have seen the blooming blush going across his cheeks.

He’d wanted to invite you in for a cup of tea and a slice of cake when you first moved in but he wasn’t able to gather the courage and by the time he finally felt ready nearly four months had passed.

“I actually do have it, (Y/N).” Coming back into the lounge room with the letter in hand, he quickly spotted you standing by the dining table looking at the bread he made in awe.

“Oops, sorry Nanami, I didn’t mean to be nosy!” Shuffling back, you took one last look at the bread before turning away. “I just saw the cat shape and got curious!” Taking the letter from him, you looked like you wanted to say something more, but held your tongue. “Well, I’ll be go-”

“Would you like to have a piece?” Nanami blurted out, holding out a hand to stop you from walking away.

“Really, you’d let me have some?”

“Sit down, I’ll pour you some tea.” Pulling out a chair for you, Nanami disappeared into his kitchen and gripped the countertops tightly. A sense of accomplishment washed over him that nearly beat out the bread; he was finally getting to have tea with you.

“Nanami, this is amazing!” Taking a bite out of the jam covered bread, your brows rose high on your face. “You really made this?”

“Mhmm. I got the mold this morning.” Taking a sip of his own tea, Nanami had to fight the smile on his face from becoming too big at seeing you enjoy his creation. He never usually shared with other people, either eating it all himself or giving it to the elderly ladies down the hall that didn’t know how to use the internet.

“Do you bake all the time?” Scooting to the edge of your seat, you almost looked like a child with a hopeful gleam in your eyes.

“I do, I quite enjoy it.”

The conversation began to revolve around food that Nanami had made, his favorites and yours, and then to just general cooking. It felt good to talk about this side of his life with someone, especially you, and the both of you quickly lost track of time.

“I should get going, Nanami, I feel like I’ve taken up enough of your time.” An hour later, you were standing up from your seat. The bread had quickly dwindled as the conversation wore on and there were only a few slices left.

“I enjoyed our talk.” Letting a full smile grace his face now, Nanami walked you to the door. Bidding you a final farewell, as soon as the door closed Nanami leaned against it, pressing his forehead into the wood and letting out a deep sigh. “You did it, Kento.”

Patting himself on the back for several days, Nanami looked forward to the next time he could see you. You’d let slip that you really liked cookies, so the only thing on Nanami’s mind was getting the perfect cookie recipe and making a batch for you.

Over the course of the next week, Nanami made a new cookie every single day. He knew what flavors you liked but he also wanted to try and give you something new, impress you with his skills and see that pleased look come over your face once again.

He also filmed himself making the cookies as well, making sure the videos were the most aesthetic they could be. He didn’t know if you watched his videos and even if you did he wouldn’t want to know, but on the off chance you saw them, Nanami wanted you to love it.

Finding the perfect recipe after a lot of back and forth with himself, Nanami was ready to share a plate of cookies with you. Sliding out into the hall with the plate tightly clutched to his chest, he turned to your apartment.

Nanami was happy you lived in the corner unit, it felt like he got you all to himself despite only having one proper conversation with you. There weren’t other neighbors trying to steal your attention away; it was perfect.

Right as Nanami knocked on the door, a sharp scream came from inside your apartment and he nearly dropped the plate in shock.

“(Y/N)?! Are you okay?” Knocking loudly, Nanami’s body spiked with adrenaline. There was silence on the other end, making him consider picking the lock or calling the building manager.

“N-nanami?” Your voice and body trembled as you opened the door. Quickly giving you a once over, Nanami was relieved to see no physical injuries on you.

“What’s wrong? Why’d you scream?” Eager to get the answer from you, Nanami leaned closer. Squirming a bit, you took a step back and opened the door for him to enter.

“Promise not to laugh, okay?” There was a slight pout in your lips as you spoke and Nanami almost cooed at you.

“I promise.”

“A spider came down from the ceiling and scared me.” Panning over to your lounge room, Nanami couldn’t see any spider. The only things he saw were your furniture and a PC setup off to one side.

“Where is it?” Following you to the desk, Nanami quirked a brow at how impressive the equipment looked. There were two monitors, an expensive looking microphone and a ring light that looked like one he owned.

“Right there!” Grabbing his arm, you flung yourself behind him and pointed at your desk. Right in the middle was a large spider, scurrying back and forth. Balancing the plate in one hand, he fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and quickly squished the bug.

“I got it for you.” Folding the cloth back up, Nanami let himself exhale. Having you cling to him had almost stopped him from being able to do anything and he needed all the focus he could get if he wanted to help you.

“You didn’t have to use that, I would have grabbed you a paper towel!”

“It’s alright, it probably would have gotten away if we had waited.”

“Wait!” Grabbing onto the handkerchief before Nanami could tuck it back into his pocket, you gave it a gentle tug. “Let me clean it for you at least.” Nodding, Nanami let it go with no resistance.

Trying not to be nosy, he didn’t dwell too long at your computer, opting instead to follow you to your kitchen. He was pretty sure he saw the title to one of his videos on an open tab and it filled his chest with a flutter.

“What’s on the plate, Nanami?” Your question broke him from his short daydream of talking about his videos with you.

“Huh?” Nanami completely forgot about the plate in his hands, having gotten wrapped up in his own thoughts. Feeling the weight of the plate come back into his consciousness, Nanami cleared his throat. “Oh I uh, I made some cookies for you.”

“You did?” Dropping his handkerchief into the sink, you fully turned to him. Leaning close to the plate, you let out a small hum. “What kind are they?”

“I tried a new recipe out, they’re choux au craquelin with salted caramel cream.” Watching you process the name in your head made Nanami grin. You probably had no idea what he had just said, evident as the dumb nod you gave him.

“Do they go well with tea?”

As Nanami sat at your kitchen table waiting for you to return with some tea, he couldn’t help but look over your whole apartment. It was a simple one bedroom like he had and your furniture suited what Nanami assumed was your taste nicely.

“I almost don’t want to eat one, they look too nice!” Back with some tea, you turned one of the cookies over in your hand.

“If you don’t eat them they’ll go bad.” Nanami teased lightly, taking a bite of one for himself. You let out a little peep and nodded quickly, taking a generous bite of the dessert.

“Nanami.” Gripping the edge of the table, your eyes were blown wide. “This is amazing, I love it!” Whenever Nanami got a compliment, usually from Gojo, he brushed it off and thought nothing of it. But to hear you say that you loved what he made and to see the smile on your face as you take another bite - it made Nanami’s brain overflow with dopamine, a fuzzy feeling tingling the tips of his fingers and warming his chest.

“You really do?” He unintentionally whispers, having to close his eyes lest he stare hearts right through you.

“Mhmm!” Taking a sip of your tea, you giggle a little to yourself. “I feel pretty special too, you made this whole plate just for me.”

You’re special to me, that’s why, Nanami thought in his head, biting the tip of his tongue hard to keep from blurting it out. Looking over at your computer setup once more, Nanami decided to comment on that instead of feeding the blush going up the back of his neck.

“You have a pretty nice setup there, (Y/N). Do you make Youtube videos or something?” Leaning back in his chair, Nanami forced his body to relax and his stomach to loosen up. Now it was your turn to be embarrassed, a sudden shy demeanor washing over you.

“I’m just trying it out, I wanted to see what streaming and stuff was like.”

“Really?” Nanami had to choose his next words wisely, not wanting to seem too excited. “What’s the name of your channel, I’ll follow you.”

“You will?” There was a hopeful lilt to your voice, yet your body language was still hesitant. “I don’t know, I might get too embarrassed knowing you’ll be watching me.” It was Nanami’s turn to join you in being shy. He made a noise in the back of his throat, quickly taking a sip of his tea to cover it up.

“D-don’t be. I want to support you, that’s what neighbors do.” Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Nanami slid it over to you. “Go ahead and pull up your channel, I’ll subscribe right now.”

As Nanami left your apartment, fifteen minutes later and with an empty plate tucked under his arm, he was thoroughly surprised to know you wanted to start a Youtube channel. He wanted to help you, give you some tips and ways to make the algorithm like you, but he wasn’t ready to give away his secret just yet.

Sitting at his desk that night with his laptop in front of him, Nanami pulled up your channel. Seeing your first video, aptly titled ‘introduction’, he clicked.

“Hi everyone watching.” You sounded and looked so timid sitting at your desk, wringing your hands in front of you and smoothing them out on the wood as soon as you realized what you were doing. “My name is (Y/N) and this is my channel.”

“Hi (Y/N).” Nanami answered back, snorting at his own silliness.

“I’m going to be posting videos of my life, like vlogs and stuff, but also fun cooking videos! I really admire so many people on Youtube that can cook, I want to try and recreate their recipes! I especially like this one, it’s my favorite channel.” A few different Youtube channels popped up on screen and right in the middle and the one you gestured to was Nanamis.

He didn’t hear the rest of the video where you talked about potential upload schedules and other facts about yourself. He didn’t even hear you say goodbye or notice that the screen had faded to black. All Nanami could think about was the fact that his channel was your favorite.

Watching the other few videos you’d posted, a couple short ones of you running errands or showing off some clothes, Nanami vowed to watch every single one of your videos. Despite being pretty active on Youtube, Nanami didn’t watch a lot of videos himself, but your channel was at the top of his list.

For the next month Nanami waited for you to post a cooking video and while he waited he put out a few videos with easier steps, things you could follow along with even if you had little to no cooking skills.

A ping on his phone on a Saturday night had him walking briskly to his computer. You finally posted a video of yourself cooking one of his recipes, a dish he had made for Itadori’s birthday: a strawberry crepe cake.

“Hi, welcome to my kitchen!” Nanami was immediately smitten within the first few seconds of the video. The apron you had on was cute and tied around your waist with a bow and there was a large container of strawberries just waiting to be used.

As the video went on, Nanami openly chuckled at the mistakes you made from being so nervous in front of the camera, like dropping the egg shells into the bowl and dumping too much flour in right after.

“I’m so nervous to flip the crepe over!” The camera was over your stove now where a crepe was slowly beginning to burn in the pan the longer you waited.

“Don’t be scared, you can do it.” Nanami whispered to the screen, biting his lip as you attempted to flip it over. Managing to do it right on the first try, you let out a loud yelp of victory.

“Oops, I better be quiet! It’s like 2am right now and my neighbor is sleeping!” Upon your admittance, Nanami suddenly remembers hearing a small shout late at night a few days ago that had woken him up for just a moment. “He actually said he’d watch all my videos, so sorry if I woke you up!” Crossing your fingers in front of the camera, you went back to talking about the cooking.

Nanami felt special that you mentioned him in a video and now he wished he was awake to try your cake. You put way more strawberries than he did on it, and your whipped cream application was a lot messier and spilled down the sides but that only made him want to try it more.

“Okay, I’m all done! Let’s put a picture side by side and see how I did.” Holding up a photo of Nanami’s cake, you whined a little at seeing such stark differences. “Well mine isn’t perfectly aesthetic, but I bet it’ll still taste good!”

Was it rational to be annoyed with himself for not being awake at 2am on a Wednesday night to eat a strawberry crepe cake with you? No it wasn’t, but Nanami still felt it. He would have to tell you to cook at a more reasonable time the next opportunity he got to talk to you so he could try your food.

Deciding to do just that, Nanami grabbed his phone and called you. He managed to give you his number after subscribing to your Youtube channel, stating that if you ever needed help cooking you could ask him.

“Hello?” He could almost hear you on the other side of the wall.

“(Y/N), it’s Nanami Kento. From next door.” How many other Nanami Kento’s could you possibly know? Not a lot, he was hoping. You laughed on the other end and he could definitely hear it through the wall.

“Hi neighbor. What’s up?”

“I watched your Youtube video.”

“Y-you saw it?!” You made a noise in the back of your throat and a soft whine followed. “God I feel so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be, I told you I’d watch your videos and support you.”

“I know, I just- you didn’t have to call me and say it.”

“I don’t like texting.” Nanami smirked, he could just imagine your face right now hidden under your palm.

“Well, what did you think of it?”

“I liked it, you did really well on the cake. But I do have one complaint.”

“What is it?” You gasped loudly, nearly dropping the phone as you wondered what he could possibly have to say.

“I just wish you’d made it when I was awake, I would have loved to try it.” There was a long pause between you and Nanami could hear you flop onto your couch.

“Really? You would try it?” Nanami let out a short hum of approval. “Let me get some more strawberries then.” He could hear the smile in your voice and it made his own lips tug upward.

Ending the call shortly after, Nanami thought about your conversation while he was filming his own video. Gojo had given him a box of fresh peaches as a gift from his recent vacation and Nanami had his heart set on making a peach tart.

Replaying the conversation with you over and over in his head, Nanami wasn’t as careful as he usually was about concealing his identity. He couldn’t find it in him to put on gloves to cover his hands when all he was really thinking about was having cake with you from a recipe he had made himself.

When he was editing, he almost threw out the whole video. There were many segments where his hands were on full display and one where part of his arm poked into the frame as well. But the rest of the video was too perfect to completely toss out and unable to cut out the scenes of his hands, Nanami posted it anyway with a dying hope that his viewers wouldn’t make a big deal out of it.

Waking up the day after posting the video however, Nanami was sorely mistaken. He was used to videos going viral and trending for several days, some even getting articles written about them. But going viral for his hands wasn’t something Nanami thought was possible.

The video alone had gotten upwards of 5 million views in just a day and was still steadily climbing. Despite going on all his social media accounts and muting every single word that could possibly have anything to do with him, Nanami still ended up seeing videos and pictures of his own hands on Twitter, with an article about him breaking the internet as well.

And one of the videos he saw had your face in it. Captioned ‘tiktokers reacting to hand reveal’, he felt the need to click on it. What did you think of him?

“So I’ve seen the headlines but I saved my reaction so I could get it on camera.” You spoke hurriedly, wrapped up in a hoodie and blanket as you sat down on the couch, the camera on a tripod across from you. “Time to see the video.”

Nanami waited with bated breath as he watched you watch his video. There were some obvious cuts in the video from where you skipped forward, and right as his hands came on screen your jaw dropped.

“I- I uh-” You were clearly very flustered, slapping a hand over your face and turning away from the screen. “Why is my face burning over some hands?” Laughing in disbelief, you watched the rest of the video and let out a girlish squeal before cutting it off.

Nanami wasn’t proud to admit that he watched your reaction more than a few times, finding an odd sense of pride take shape inside him. You didn’t even know it was him behind the camera yet he was able to leave such a profound impression on you.

With a new and growing fanbase eating up every single thing he posted now, Nanami found it hard to live in anonymity like he used to. Gone were the days of quietly replying or liking comments on his Youtube channel, he now had thousands of comments on all platforms asking to see more of his hands or for him to possibly speak in his next video.

He was eager to know what your opinion on him was now, what you thought of his online persona. You were still making videos of his cooking, your channel having gotten a boost in subscribers from your reaction video, and you sometimes mentioned his channel name.

On a quiet Saturday at half past noon, Nanami found himself lounging lazily on his sofa with his hair still undone and coffee stains on his sweats. It was uncharacteristic for him to be so lax so late into the day but it was also uncharacteristic of him to stay up past 1am watching the silly little livestream you were doing in your kitchen with muffled giggles he could hear coming through the wall.

Staring at the ceiling and drifting in and out of sleep as the TV filled the silence in the room, Nanami almost missed the subtle vibration of his phone against the coffee table if there hadn’t been a lull in the TV.

(Y/N): hey neighbor are you busy?

The message from you had him suddenly alert and focused, sitting straight up and planting both feet on the floor.

(Nanami): no, I’m not

(Y/N): then…

(Y/N): do you think you’d wanna come over and help me bake something? I’m doing my first Youtube collab and I’m so nervous

(Nanami): I’ll be over in five.

He didn’t even wait for your response before leaping from the couch and bolting to his bedroom. Nanami got dressed and ready in record time, splashing plenty of cold water on his face to wake him up even further before slicking his hair back and doing one last check in the mirror before rushing to the front door.

“(Y/N).” He was knocking on your door exactly five minutes after texting you.

“Nanami!” You opened the door with a smile, a light colored tied around your waist that was stained from previous use. “Come on in!” Ushering him across the threshold, you made a beeline straight for the kitchen.

“So, you’re doing your first collab, huh?” Following slowly behind you, Nanami thought of all the emails sitting in his inbox from brands and other content creators alike asking him to promote their product or work on a video together. He ignored them all in favor of anonymity, but if you were to message him about it, he would answer in a heartbeat.

“Yeah, I joined a discord server full of other cooking Youtubers and some of them asked me to collab with them!” The smile on your face was beaming and the excitement in your voice made Nanami’s heart swell with pride.

“Well then, let’s get started.” Grabbing the spare apron you handed him, Nanami panned over the scene before him. Your kitchen wasn’t a total mess yet, the counters were still relatively clear with just a few bowls out and measuring spoons just waiting to be used. “What’re we making?”

“Ha, well…” Scratching your cheek bashfully, you shrugged your shoulders and looked around your kitchen. “That’s where you come in, I have no idea what to make.” Letting out a soft chuckle under his breath, Nanami nodded to himself and took a step toward the cabinets.

“What are the others making?” He asked while idly sifting through the ingredients you had.

“Take a look.” Showing him your phone, you swiped through the messages between all of you. There were multiple different desserts being made, recipe ideas being thrown around, all with a specific theme.

“So, you chose the colors of the rainbow?” Nanami skimmed over the messages where you decided colors and it seems you’d been chosen to do blue. He’d just seen someone else who got red go with a strawberry cheesecake with swirls of deep red mixed in with lighter pink.

“Do you know any desserts that are blue, cause I don’t.” Throwing your head back with a whine, you stared at the ceiling and let Nanami get back to digging through your cabinets.

“What about a blue surf cake?”

“A what?” You parroted, and your owlish blink made Nanami’s lips curl up in a soft smile.

“It’s a blue cheesecake that looks like ocean waves, I’ve made it a few times before and you don’t need to bake it.” He’d actually filmed a video on it about a year ago and it was one of his most proud creations. Quickly typing it into your phone, you pulled up his video within seconds.

“Oh thank god he made one.” Sighing in relief, you watched Nanami’s video with rapt interest. “This is perfect! But I don’t have this stuff, this butterfly tea powder.”

“I do.” He’d overbought for that video and had been stuck with the stuff for ages. Turning on his heel, he mumbled something unintelligible before leaving your apartment and reappearing in less than two minutes.

“You’re just giving this to me?” Raising your brows high in shock, you took the relatively full package from Nanami’s hands and opened it, a small cloud of blue powder puffing out upon its release.

“Yes, I want you to do well on this collab.” Turning away from you, Nanami began to grab the necessary ingredients from your shelves.

“Nanami.” Your voice was a bit low and when he turned around your bottom lip was jutted out into a pout.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re the best neighbor ever!” Clutching the powder tightly against your chest with one arm, you raise the other one and rest your hand on his shoulder. “Whenever you need help or want some tea and cookies, just ask me and I’ll do it!” You were eternally grateful and Nanami could feel the sincerity in your words and the warmth of your hand melting into his skin.

“I’ll make sure to take you up on that offer, so don’t take it back.”

“Never!” You shook your head, clutching his shoulder tightly. “Now let’s make the best damn blue cake ever!”

Standing off to the side, Nanami watched you film your introduction. He felt almost awkward seeing you talk to the camera and talk animatedly about what you were going to make when his own introductions were quiet and calm, slowly panning across his work space and showing what he would be making with captions dotting the screen.

“I also have a friend helping me make this cake, would you like to wave hello?” You glanced at Nanami, fully expecting him to reject your offer but he surprised you by lifting a hand into frame and giving a very brief wave. A little giggle left your lips and you gave him a thumbs up, turning back to the camera. “He’s really good at baking, so with his help hopefully this cake won’t turn out to be a huge disaster.” Laughing to yourself, you waited a few seconds before turning the camera off.

“Give yourself more credit, (Y/N), you’re good at baking too. I bet you won’t even need me.” Going over the ingredients list one last time, Nanami recounted your videos and couldn’t fight a small smirk on his lips. You’d certainly improved but to call you good was a bit of an exaggeration.

“You’re right!” But you were bolstered by his words nonetheless and your chest puffed up with confidence. “I can do this no problem!”

Maybe it was because he was there, or maybe it was because the words he’d said to you before starting had jinxed it, but Nanami was sure any skills you’d learned had regressed severely.

From the first step to the last, there was a fumble on your part. Adding too many ingredients that didn’t need to be there, adding too little of what the recipe actually called for, snacking on the pieces for the crust of the cake and choking on camera from accidentally inhaling a piece - it was almost as if you were trying to appear inept at even the most basic of kitchen duties.

“It took us so long to get here but we can finally add the filling in!” What took Nanami barely 25 minutes had taken you almost an hour to complete. Your apron and fingers were smudged with blue powder and the kitchen was in noticeably more disarray than when you started, clear proof of the trials and tribulations you went through. Silently cheering you on from behind the camera, Nanami held his breath and watched you pour the mixture into its final pan. “Now time to pop it into the freezer and wait for it to set!”

“Time to start cleaning up.” Nanami mumbled to himself as you turned the camera off. Your cooking style was much different than his, pots and pans carelessly thrown into the sink and dirty utensils left on the counter were not things he was used to seeing.

“Do we have to?” You whined as you set the cake in the freezer.

“Will you clean up after I leave?” He quirked a brow at you, a slow smile coming to his face as you groaned and shook your head.

“Alright fine, we can clean up now.” Nanami was already rolling up his sleeves before you could start to speak and your sulky tone made a chuckle come out of him. Flicking on the sink and filling it with water, he could see you gather dishes out of the corner of his eye. It was quiet in the kitchen now without you narrating your actions for the video and Nanami welcomed the silence, it gave him a chance to think about what to say to you next.

“Really, thank you for helping me.” Coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with him at the sink, you let your arm rest snugly next to his as you started to help wash the dishes.

“You’re welcome.” Shifting just the tiniest bit closer, Nanami scrubbed away in silence. Without the constant action and ever present camera turned off, the scene between the two of you could almost be described as domestic, as if the two of you had just gotten done cooking for yourselves and not a Youtube video and now were in comfortable quiet as you cleaned up the aftermath.

“I should think about what to make for dinner, all that filming made me hungry.” The adrenaline from the collab was still high inside you, making your fingers tremble slightly as you washed off a sudsy dish.

“What are you in the mood for?” Nanami was either stupidly brave or just plain stupid for leaning into this domestic feeling by asking you that question. He could be crossing a line by trying to imply he wanted to eat with you, essentially overstaying his welcome now that he was no longer needed.

“I kind of want pasta, what about you?” Glancing up at him, you were glad he wanted to stay longer and the proof was felt on the tingling warmth prickling your entire body.

“Pasta sounds good. Red or white sauce?”

“Red. I have a great wine to pair it with.”

“You’re into wine?”

“Not really.” You giggled shyly. “I wanted to start a series where I pair different foods with wines but I got too drunk trying to film the first episode.”

“I would love to see that video, (Y/N).” Nanami snorted loudly, a smirk on his lips as he dried his hands.

“We’ll have to have a private screening then.” Playfully bumping your shoulders together, you followed suit and dried your hands.

“Yes, yes we will.”

Twenty minutes later and dinner was prepared and served, both you and Nanami sitting at your dining table with full glasses of beautiful red wine with the bottle sitting not too far off in case you needed more. Eating quietly and making lively conversation, the wine in your glasses never seemed to dip, always being topped up until the bottle was empty and you were shuffling to grab another bottle.

“(Y/N), how much wine do you have?” Nanami chuckled, a drunken blush coating his cheeks as he watched you open your fridge. He could just barely see the bottom of a few bottles from his position at the table.

“Y-you don’t wanna know!” You laughed far too loudly for the situation and slammed the door closed, handing Nanami the bottle as you collapsed in your seat.

“Well, cheers.” Opening the new bottle and topping off your glasses, Nanami held his up and clinked it with yours when you held it up. Letting the liquid drip down his throat, Nanami looked over at you from over the rim of his glass. You were already cute in his eyes, downright adorable even, but to see you giggly and drunk with him made his heart swell even more.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” Whining slightly, you held your glass up in front of your face while your own face burned horribly.

“Like what?” He chuckled in return, mimicking your gesture.

“Like- like- you know!” Waving a hand around, you turned away from him slightly and took a generous sip of wine. Silence hung between you briefly, words left unsaid on the tips of both your tongues yet the fear of possible rejection - or even worse, regret - permeated your drunken minds.

“I’m just having a good time, (Y/N), is that a crime?” Leaning back in his seat, Nanami laughed to himself. He was definitely embarrassed from being caught looking at you like a fool in love but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now.

“You like having dinner with me?” Quirking up a hopeful brow, you rest your elbows on the table and shimmy just a tad bit closer. Your knees brushed under the table and the feeling drew you closer with Nanami pulling his chair in just so he could stretch his legs out and feel your feet begin to tangle together.

“I do, a lot.” It surely beat eating dinner alone for the thousandth time this year. The conversation quickly died down with both of you just silently looking at each other with a half lidded gaze, drunken smiles pushing your cheeks up without you even noticing it.

Soon the food ran cold and the second bottle of wine was emptied and you had to separate to take care of the dishes. Pushing Nanami towards the living room, you made him promise to go sit on the couch while you set the plates in the sink and put away the leftovers.

“Nanami, I have some ice cream if you-” Slightly stumbling out into the living room with a pint of chocolate ice cream, you stopped short upon finding Nanami dozing away on the couch with his body fully stretched out and relaxed.

Going up to the back of the couch, you leaned over it and close to his face, taking in every miniscule detail and pore that you could. Nanami was always so poised around you that it was a rare treat for him to relax like this, especially enough to go to sleep on your couch.

“Nanami…Nanami…” You whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. The action earned you a tired grunt in response and Nanami pushing your hand away and turning further into the couch. Shaking his shoulder again, you giggled when he swatted you away.

Returning the ice cream to the freezer, you grabbed a spare blanket and pillow, nearly dropping them both as you stumbled through your apartment. Throwing the blanket over his body haphazardly, you gingerly grabbed his head and put the pillow underneath it.

“Good night, Kento.” Whispering above his sleeping body, you felt butterflies in your stomach looking at him. You tried to stamp down the crush you had on him, reasoning with yourself that a man this serious and composed would never go for someone like you, but it never worked. You found yourself daydreaming about him constantly when you should have been working, fantasizing about having him join you for a meal or perhaps an outing to the city.

Taking one last look at his sleeping form, you drug yourself away to your bedroom to get some sleep of your own. The knowledge that Nanami was just a few feet away in the living room while you lay in your bed kept you up, nervous fits of giggles erupting from you as your imagination wandered.

Waking up some time later with a pounding headache and early morning light coming through your open curtains, you listened for any sound of Nanami still in your apartment. Taking a brief glance at the time, you expected him to have crawled home by now and be nursing his hangover with a cup of coffee.

Heaving yourself out of bed, you walked as quickly as possible to the bathroom and fumbled in the drawers for some painkillers. Downing a couple with no hesitation, you splashed some cool water on your face before finishing up and leaving the room.

“Oh, you’re still here.” Your voice was terribly quiet as your eyes landed on Nanami who was still fast asleep on the couch, completely disheveled with his shirt hiked up to reveal the relaxed muscles of his abdomen. Even deep in sleep he still had prominent abs with the dusting of a light happy trail below his belly button.

Reaching out in a trance, you ran your fingers lightly through his hair, just barely grazing his scalp with your nails. Repeating the motion several times, you worked out any knots he may have gotten during the night and further mussed the tresses.

“Feels good.” Nanami grumbled with his eyes still tightly closed. His voice was impossibly low and groggy as he twisted and turned on the couch. Your fingers went to scratch at his scalp when Nanami’s twisting earned him a tumble right to the ground and a surprised shout sounded upon contact.

“You okay?” Leaning over the couch, you gripped the cushioned backing tightly.

“F-fine, I’m-” Clearing his throat and trying to grab his bearings, Nanami ripped the blanket off him and sat up in a huff. “I’m fine.” As he spoke, he winced, clutching at his head.

“Hungover?” You asked with a small grin. Holding up a finger as he nodded, you made your way to the bathroom to grab the painkiller. “Come grab some water.” Motioning to the dining table, your grin got wider watching him struggle to stand.

“Do you have any coffee?”

Ten minutes later, Nanami was sunk into a dining chair with his forehead plastered to the table. He couldn’t even feel any regret for overstaying his welcome and getting too drunk to go home, all he could feel was a sick churning in his stomach and a throbbing in his head. The coffee had done a good job of waking him up, prompting him to fix his clothes and hair as best he could given the circumstance.

“Here you go.” Setting a plate down in front of him, you tried not to groan as you sat down yourself. Peeling his face off the table, Nanami never thought he could be this happy to see a plate of food.

Barely grunting out a word of thanks, he grabbed his utensils and started eating. His pained stomach slowly subsided, the warm food doing a good job at chasing away any lingering sickness in the back of his throat. It was only when his plate was empty did he realize he hadn’t spoken a single word to you.

“Thank you for the food.” Taking a gulp of coffee, he looked over at your own plate and realized he was still hungry.

“There’s more in the kitchen.” Flicking your chin in that direction, you slowly sipped your own drink as Nanami left to grab more food.

“I’m sorry.” He said once his second plate was empty and he’d already gotten another cup of coffee.

“For what?”

“I’ve overstayed my welcome. By a lot.” Grimacing as he looked at the time, he could just imagine the way you were feeling. Had you been able to sleep comfortably last night knowing he was here? You probably locked the door to your bedroom just to be safe, telling all your friends that your neighbor was drunk and passed out on your couch.

“Don’t be sorry, I don’t mind. It’s just like a sleepover.” Finishing the food on your plate, you pushed it away and leaned your head against the back of the chair. It was quiet for a moment with Nanami idly watching you breathe, and then you spoke again. “Do you think the cake is ready?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot.” Letting out a snort, you peeked at Nanami from the corner of your eye and laughed a bit more at his bewildered expression. “The cake we made yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah.” Letting out a rough exhale, Nanami shook his head to clear his thoughts. How could he forget the entire reason he’d come over in the first place? Did the alcohol really have that much of an affect on him?

“It looks set, what do you think?” Gingerly placing the cake tin on the table, you worried your lip as you looked over the cake for any imperfections. It looked perfect in the pan but who knew what would happen when you tried to remove it.

“Well don’t keep me waiting.” Reaching over the table to take the cake out himself, Nanami yelped when you smacked him away.

“No, don’t! What if it all oozes out onto the table?”

“We won’t know until we find out.” He wanted to reach out again but hesitated as he saw the twitch of your hand. “It won’t ooze all out, (Y/N), the cake is perfect.”

“How can you be so sure?” Your fingers curled around the tin; you wanted to believe him but knowing your luck it would end in disaster. But the longer you looked between him and the cake, the more you felt the pressure.

“I know because you made it. You’re a good baker, (Y/N).” Finishing the last sip of his coffee, Nanami pointed a finger at you. “Now either you take the cake out or I will.”

“Fine!” With trembling fingers you pushed the cake up from the bottom, painstakingly watching for any possible defects as it emerged.

“See, I told you it was perfect.” Nanami couldn’t help but feel smug at being right. The cake was picture perfect, not a lump or bump or empty spot in sight. The sigh of relief you let out was loud and completely deflated your chest.

“Thank god.” Setting the cake back in the tin, you stared at it from above, disbelief washing over you. “I can’t believe I really did it.” Laughing breathlessly, you straightened yourself up and glanced at your camera. “Guess I should start filming the reveal.”

“I think I’ll be going now.” Pushing himself up from his chair, Nanami gathered the dishes on the table and set them in the sink, ignoring the urge to stay even longer. He had to shower and change clothes, gather his composure and prepare himself for the work week ahead.

“It was nice having you over.” You mumbled, pushing in the chairs and slowly leading him to the front door. Neither of you really wanted this time together to end but it had to be done eventually. Gripping the doorknob, there was a slight delay before you opened the door.

“(Y/N)...” Drawing out your name, Nanami’s feet were stuck in place. Looking into your eyes, the longer he stared the less he wanted to step out into the hallway and back into reality. Digging his fingers into the doorframe, Nanami let his eyes begin to close softly, his vision turning slightly hazy as he aimed for your lips.

Time was moving too fast and too slow. With the sudden approach of Nanami, it was something you’d dreamed about for a long while, wondering what his lips would feel like against yours. But the open setting of where you two were, the sudden slamming door down the hall and noises filtering in from the outside world withdrew you from the moment you’d wanted for so long.

“O-oh.” You hadn’t even realized you’d put your hand up to stop Nanami from coming closer until he made contact. Both of you looked down at your hand in confusion and you turned red for different reasons.

“I’m sor-”

“I’ll see you later.” Cutting you off, Nanami kept his head down to try and save face, save himself from you seeing how utterly mortified he was at getting rejected. Taking a generous step into the hall, he made a beeline back to his apartment.

Unable to say much beyond a dejected and nearly silent goodbye, you closed your door shortly after Nanami closed his. Both of you leaned against the respective frames, Nanami cursing himself for being so forward and making you uncomfortable, and you beating yourself up for stopping him in the first place.

It only took a day for you to finish the video and upload it, adding your traditional flair and special touches that made Nanami smile every time he saw them. Trying to ignore the way you two had parted, he focused intensely on the video and every time there was a cut or jump in he recounted exactly what had happened in that moment that made you cut the clip out, be it choking on some crust or dropping the entire mixing bowl on the floor.

“I’m just feeling burnt out from all this social media stuff, I might take a break from cooking for a little while.” That was the last thing Nanami wanted to hear towards the end of one of your monthly vlogs. He’d noticed a slight downtrend in your content output shortly after you posted the collab video and while he hadn’t spoken to you since that fateful night, he hadn’t gotten any hints that you were feeling this way.

“I’ll still be active here and there, I have some other things already filmed and ready to be uploaded and some sponsored stuff for my Instagram but I just…” The heavy sigh you let out as you tried to find the words to articulate your feelings made Nanami frown. Watching the rest of the video with a heavy heart, he took a glance at the time.

“Let me make something to cheer them up.” He mumbled to himself. Yes it was nearing his usual bedtime and he was typically very strict about adhering to the schedule, but you needed him; or at least Nanami hoped you needed him in some way to make you feel better.

Burrowing around in his cupboards, he grabbed random ingredients and placed them on the counter. When Nanami wanted to make something, especially a baked good, he always had a plan on what he wanted to make. But now he was going off the cuff, coming up with a recipe on the fly and hoping it worked. He also grabbed his filming equipment and set it up, hoping that even if the recipe didn’t turn out well you would still find enjoyment in his videos.

It took him nearly two hours to make a chocolate souffle and he didn’t regret a single second of it. His whole apartment was warm and smelled of chocolate, steam rising and blurring the lense of the camera as he presented them. Taking a deep breath that turned into a loud yawn, Nanani felt proud of himself for completing the recipe even if it was an ungodly hour.

He was nearly a zombie by the time he put everything away and uploaded the footage to his computer but he couldn’t find it in him to go to bed just yet. He wanted to edit and upload the video as soon as possible so that you could have something to watch to take your mind off the hard time you were having.

The rising sun was Nanami’s indicator that he’d been up all night without even ten minutes of sleep, but he could proudly say he pulled his first all nighter for Youtube and finished the video right as his alarm went off. Posting it immediately, Nanami rushed around to gather his things and head out the door before he missed his usual train.

Dragging his feet throughout the day, he collapsed on the couch the moment he stepped through the door. He tried to keep up with his work while also checking to see if you’d liked the video or maybe commented but there was nothing from you, not even a cheeky little post on Twitter or your Instagram stories.

Running a dejected hand through his hair, Nanami pulled himself up from the couch and to the kitchen. Thankfully he was meticulous about being clean so there was no mess from last night waiting for him, easing his mind at least a little bit. Making a quick dinner, he ate over the kitchen sink as he thought of what to do next.

It only took a few seconds for him to decide to make another video at that very moment. Shoving the rest of his food in his mouth, Nanami turned to his cupboards once again, quickly deciding to make cookies as his hand landed on a box of chocolate. Ignoring the souffle sitting patiently in the fridge, Nanami set to work making another dish for you with no plan in the foreseeable future of actually giving you any of them.

This habit repeated until the end of the work week when Nanami had quite literally passed out on his couch after the repeated all nighters. None of his videos seemed to have the impact he wanted them to. You didn’t like or comment, your social media posts were either retweets or sponsored content and you hadn’t posted a new video in a while. He could hear you in your apartment sometimes, talking to yourself or playing music and singing along, so he knew you hadn’t run away.

Waking up in a haze well after the sunset, Nanami felt at his wits end. He was doing everything he could to get you to cheer up without having to face you directly and it wasn’t working. He had a fridge full of desserts he was going to give you at some point and a horde of videos up on his channel you could watch but he needed to do something more.

(S/N): hey, I hope you feel better soon

As Nanami prepared for a shower, he wasn’t in his right mind to care about the fact that he’d just messaged you on Twitter instead of through text like he originally meant. Talking to you through his online persona wasn’t something he really wanted to do but he couldn’t turn back now.

Taking a long hot shower, Nanami forgot about the message he sent you, too wrapped up in finally getting to unwind. Doing his nighttime routine and burrowing into bed, he checked his phone one last time.

(Y/N): hearing my idol say this has made my day so much better, thank you so much T_T

“Your idol?” Nanami chuckled to himself, a light blush coming over his face as he sunk into his pillows.

(S/N): you’re welcome. If you ever want to chat about how you’re feeling or anything, I’m open to listen.

Pushing through sleep to send that final message, Nanami tossed his phone onto his bedside table and promptly went to sleep with a small smile on his face.

Generously oversleeping, Nanami woke up in an overheated, messy pile of blankets. Thankful for the weekend, he took his time coming to his senses and getting out of bed. His hand automatically drifted to his phone, tired mind eager to see if you had responded.

(Y/N): I would definitely love to chat!

(S/N): you called me your idol, I take it you’ve been watching my videos for a while?

Nanami had to ask, he needed to know just how much you liked his content. He didn’t have to wait long for a response, just as he poured his first cup of coffee his phone went off.

(Y/N): I’ve been watching your videos since you first started posting!! Your content is the number one reason I started my own channel

(S/N): I’m really touched, I’m glad I could be such a big inspiration for you

(Y/N): you really are! I admire you so much, you’re so serious about your craft

(Y/N): especially the fact that you put out a new video every day this week! I want to be as dedicated as you someday

While your statement bolstered his confidence greatly, it also put a heavy weight on Nanami’s shoulders. As you chatted more and more, Nanami felt the urge to go and make something else to keep the trend of uploading daily. There was a possibility that you were going to start posting again, you’d said so yourself, and Nanami wanted to make it a reality.

Ignoring the food in his fridge and on the counters that still needed to go to you or be eaten, Nanami pushed himself to film two videos that day. It was hard to make sure everything was perfect twice over but he managed and by the end of the day he was sitting at his computer eating flan and editing the videos.

Taking advantage of the weekend, Nanami pulled another all-nighter and filmed as many videos as he could. He ran himself completely ragged between filming, cooking and making sure to message you back consistently. Your conversation progressed naturally, flowing from one topic to another as if you were speaking face to face with each other. Nanami felt the urge to tell you it was him, that your idol was actually your neighbor, but the memory of your rejection still stung and he held off. You probably wouldn’t like him anymore if you learned the truth, so for now he was going to hold off.

By the time Monday rolled around and his alarm went off in the morning, Nanami had gotten a solid two hours of sleep and was nursing a growing headache. Somehow he managed to edit all the videos he filmed, putting them in a little queue to be uploaded everyday while he struggled through the work week.

Zoning in and out for the whole day, it was a miracle that he managed to come home in one piece. Nanami didn’t remember stepping into his office building let alone getting on the train home. Lacking the strength to even eat a proper meal, he stripped down to his underwear and slept on top of his blankets while running a high fever.

Waking up throughout the night in a cold sweat, Nanami knew when he woke up to the sound of his alarm that he couldn’t go to work. With a heavy head and runny nose, just looking in the mirror made him cringe.

“I look like shit.” His voice was gravelly and thick and he had to clear his throat several times after speaking. Leaving a quick message for his boss, Nanami splashed cold water on his face and went back to bed.

The next two days melted into each other and there were several instances where Nanami went into a coughing fit and was sure you could hear through the walls. With only enough strength to feed himself soup and cough medicine, Nanami was left to suffer alone. He heard notifications on his phone go off and every once in a while he would respond to something you sent but for the most part he was dead to the world.

A knock at the door roused him from a deep slumber in the middle of the day, sweating under a pile of blankets but too cold to take them off. He tried to ignore it at first, but the sound refused to stop and through his muddled brain Nanami was sure he could hear your voice.

“C-coming!” Grunting loudly, Nanami’s usually quiet footsteps thumped against the floor. Passing a mirror in the hall, he was glad he at least had an acceptable top and bottom on before he opened the door. Leaning heavily against the doorframe, Nanami sniffled loudly as he made eye contact with you and drifted downwards to the stack of mail in your hand.

“I uh, I have your mail.” Shuffling awkwardly on your feet, you didn’t know where to look. This was the first time you were seeing each other in two months and Nanami hated that he looked and felt absolutely awful. “Nanami? Are you okay?” The concern on your face was outweighing the awkwardness in the air.

“Not really.” He sighed, shrugging his shoulders mindlessly. “I feel like shit.” His brazen statement made you snort. Taking the mail from your outstretched hand, he was about to thank you when you suddenly spoke.

“Have you eaten today?” Your eyes scanned his face and the bad dark circles under his eyes.

“No.” Answering truthfully, Nanami didn’t protest when you made the move to enter his apartment, not that he would have stopped you in the first place.

“Let me make you something, you need to eat properly if you want to get better!” Slapping his mail on the dining table, you pointed to the couch. “Go sit down and relax.” Turning on your heel as soon as you finished speaking, you dug around in the kitchen for something to cook. Dragging his feet, Nanami grabbed a small blanket from his bedroom before returning to the living room and taking residence on the couch like you asked.

“I haven’t- haven’t gone grocery shopping in a while.” Coughing loudly, Nanami ran a hand through his hair. He could hear you rummaging through the fridge and making little noises in the back of your throat.

“There sure is a lot of moldy desserts in here.” Looking over his shoulder and into the kitchen, Nanami chuckled watching you pull out some of the desserts he’d filmed and throw them away. They were unrecognizable from when he first made them, all of them having gone bad and disintegrating in their containers. It was a shame he didn’t get a chance to eat most of them, but he was so caught up in filming as much as possible that the thought of having all the leftover food to deal with didn’t cross his mind.

“Hey, how about we order takeout?” Running hot water over a dish that used to have chocolate cake in it, your lip was curled up in disgust.

“Takeout sounds good.”

Twenty minutes later, Nanami had taken more medicine at your request and had a plate of steaming food in his hands, his first proper meal in a very long time. Putting on the TV for some light background noise, the two of you ate side by side.

“I’m glad I came to deliver your mail, I was worried about you, Nanami. I could hear you coughing at night.”

“Sorry.”

“Why’re you apologizing for being sick? It’s not your fault! Just promise me you’ll get better soon, okay?” Giving his shoulder a brief squeeze, your fingers lingered on his body for a few seconds before sliding off. There was a comfortable lull in the conversation for a moment, the two of you eating quietly and fiddling on your phone. Nanami tried not to snoop, but he could see you silently watching a Youtube video on your phone.

“Do you want to watch that on the TV?” He asked quietly, sliding the remote towards you. Giving him a sheepish smile, you quickly put the video up for him to watch as well. Nanami wasn’t surprised that it was one of his videos you were watching, he still had many queued up to be posted, but he was surprised that he didn’t remember a single moment of filming said video.

“Look at the flowers he made on the bread!” Pointing to the screen, you lightly stamped your feet on the floor. “I’m so jealous, whenever I try to make focaccia bread like that it always turns out so ugly!” Nanami nodded along silently; once he was finished with the video for the bread he ate it all in one sitting and had a massive stomach ache.

Grabbing your phone, you tapped away in the comment section of the video, leaving an abundant amount of emojis along with your praising words. Going to Twitter, you tweeted about his video as well and as soon as you hit send Nanami got a notification for the post. His eyes darted to see if you had noticed and luckily you hadn’t, but soon there was a flurry of little dings on his phone.

“Woah Nanami, someone sure is messaging you a lot.” You chuckled and Nanami nearly grabbed his phone off the coffee table and threw it across the room; there was no way that you couldn’t see all the messages were from you. You even leaned forward a little bit to take a peek at who it was.

“Y-yeah, they are.” Fumbling to grab his phone before you could put the pieces together, Nanami had forgotten about the plate of food in his lap and it slid to the ground, immediately beginning to soak into the rug and stain it. Letting out a string of curses, Nanami forgot about his phone and rushed to clean up the spilled food.

Hearing his phone clatter to the ground, Nanami was torn between abandoning his cleaning efforts and stopping you from seeing his phone. He tried to stutter something out, a feeble attempt to draw your attention away as you clearly saw your screen name on his phone.

“What’s this?” You asked quietly, too quietly for Nanami’s comfort. He was still stammering out some excuses, but as you picked up the phone and read your name out loud, he knew it was over.

“I can explain.” His adrenaline was pumping and it was making him begin to sweat profusely. He could clearly tell there was a blush on his face much deeper than the one already there from his fever. Picking up the ruined plate of food, he tried to buy himself more time to try and explain what was happening.

Looking you over, all the excuses Nanami had were coming apart. Every word he could say was falling flat, not just because of his illness but because he found it less and less appealing to try and lie. Forcing himself to take deep breaths, Nanami turned to face you.

“I...I’m (S/N).” Taking the phone from you, he showed you the Twitter messages between the two of you. As he went through the evidence, his social media pages and Youtube channel, he could see your face changing and he couldn’t read your expression. Worrying his lip, Nanami was afraid to ask what you thought of him now.

“This is insane.” You finally spoke after a few minutes, looking down at your own phone. “Who would have guessed my neighbor would turn out to be my biggest idol, too?” Slapping a hand over your face as you came to terms with the realization, you laughed a little. “Oh god, that means you saw my reaction video to your hands.”

“Yeah, I did.” Laughing along, Nanami let out a sigh of relief. You seemed to be okay with what he just told you and there was something else weighing on his mind. “You know, since I’m already confessing to secrets, there’s something else I need to tell you, (Y/N).”

“What is it?” Tilting your head to the side, your brows furrowed slightly in concern. Forcing himself to make eye contact despite the nerves he felt, Nanami let out one short breath before speaking.

“I like you, a lot.” He was surely running the highest fever he’d ever experienced now, there was no doubt about it. He was absolutely boiling, sweating buckets waiting for your reaction to this news.

“Really?” You whispered, mouth hanging open slightly.

“Really.” Based on your reaction, Nanami was steeling himself for a rejection. He should have known you wouldn’t feel the same way, he was a fool for getting his hopes up and reading into signals that weren’t there-

“I like you too.” Yet here you were, slowly weaving your fingers together and squeezing his hand. You refused to make eye contact anymore, too embarrassed from the onslaught of emotions going through you. Squeezing your hand back, Nanami ran his thumb over your skin.

“Well then, when I’m better I’d like to take you on a date.”

“As Nanami Kento or as (S/N)?” You teased, giggling to yourself as Nanami made a noise in the back of his throat.

“You already know the answer.” Finally able to relax in his seat again, Nanami let a big smile overtake his face when you cuddled into his side. “You shouldn’t be so close, you might get sick too.”

“I’ll take the risk.” Looping your arms together, you suddenly sat up. “Hey, Nanami.”

“Hm?” Turning to face you, Nanami’s eyes went wide as you kissed him. Your lips were soft, a pleasant feeling against his that he wanted to experience again and again. Kissing you back, it was a short interaction as he quickly parted to cough into the crook of his elbow.

“(Y/N), you shouldn’t kiss me, you’re going to get sick.” As much as he wanted to kiss you again, he didn’t want to be the reason you wound up in the same position as him.

“I’ll gladly take that risk.” Giving him a peck on the lips and one on the cheek, you resumed your position cuddled into him. “So all that rotting food in your fridge was from your videos?”

“Sadly, yes.”

“Next time you want to upload a video everyday, call me, okay? I would gladly like to eat your cooking again.”

“Well you don’t have to wait for that, I’ll cook for you anytime you want.”

“Will you cook with me on my channel?” You looked at him hopefully.

“I’ll think about it.” He would have to make sure you didn’t accidentally expose his identity or your new budding relationship.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Giving him a big hug, you fixed the blanket over the two of you. Nanami wanted to protest and reaffirm that he would think about it, but with the way you were pressed into his side, he couldn’t find it in him.

“Alright, it’s a yes.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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lilacsandwhiskey · 3 years ago

Note

I’m currently obsessed with tiktok and tom holland so I’m obsessed with imagines about both. i think it would be cute if you do a tiktok trend with the boys but like the world doesn’t know about reader and Tom so people are shipping her with one of the guys? like from the tiktok? Tom maybe gets jealous or something ? idk i’m rambling haha

Thanks for the request anon :) I hope this was okay!

Heartbreak Anniversary

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: mentions of pandemic and COVID, cussing, maybe suggestive at points???, angst, jealous Tom, uhhh sucky writing and no proofreading so bare w ya girl n kinda longer than I anticipated but here we are :)

Notes: italics = flashback

If someone asked you how you managed to get a life as crazy as your’s, you’d simply reply “just meet Harrison and become best friends.” You almost couldn’t fathom what your life looked like right now - you sat in the kitchen with your two friends, Harry and Tuwaine, who had fallen into the pits of TikTok with you, while Harrison, Sam, and your beloved, Tom, sat in the living room, screeching at the television as they watched a game. All of this, while in the middle of a worldwide pandemic.

You didn’t officially live with the boys, but you might as well have. Your apartment was only minutes away, but with how communal your living situation was, Tom simply talked it over with his brothers and best friends, who didn’t even hesitate to scream yes when he asked if you could stay there. It was “safest,” he explained when he begged you to come stay for a while. So you did.

How did we get here? It all started with a little project, Harrison Osterfield, and him playing cupid.

——————————

“Clumsy, are we?” Harrison managed to balance you as you tripped over your own two feet, walking into the studio. “What makes you think that?” You huffed back, a small laugh escaping your lips. “Just get that vibe.” He replied, shrugging with a smile.

It didn’t take long for you and Harrison to practically become the best of friends. He soon was inviting you out to drinks with his friends, who immediately accepted you. Though you and Harrison’s friendship was strictly platonic, you found him itching to find out about your relationship status. “Should I even wonder, Harri?” “I mean, no. I’m just curious.” “I thought I told you before I’m not interested in a relationship right now.” You said, glaring at him with a smile. “I didn’t ask that, I was just curious. So anyway, are you coming to the pub tonight? I’m dying for you to meet my friend, Tom.” The excitement in his voice was too much to understand, but instead of questioning, you just replied with a yes.

There you were, walking through the doors of the pub at 8pm sharp. Your eyes finally spotted familiar faces who were calling out to you. You followed suit, inching your way to the booth at the back. “Y/N!” They called, urging into hugs. “Hi everyone!” You replied, taking a seat. Tuwaine was already scooting over your favorite drink towards you. “Told you we’d always take care of you! Anyway, we’re celebrating tonight. Tom’s back home!”

Your eyes landed on the curly-haired boy who had a gentle smile playing on his lips. “No need for anything big, I’m just glad to be surrounded by my favorite people.” Tom said. “Nice to meet you finally, Y/N. Glad to finally put a face to the name.” Tom held a hand out, gripping tight to yours as he shook it. Little did you know, Tom was well-aware of what your face looked like. He hadn’t been able to stop scrolling through your social media pages after Harrison had posted a picture of you, him, and Tuwaine on his story during a night out.

———————————

“So who’s this girl you’ve been posting?” Tom said, trying to be as nonchalant as possible during this conversation with his bestfriend. “Y/N, I thought I’d mentioned her to you.” Harrison said through the phone. “I don’t believe you have, are you like…” “No, no, dude, you know I’ve been talking to Grace.” “I know, but I was just worried my best friend had moved on without telling me!” “You know I would. No, she’s just a friend, we met during a project. Grace actually loves her, and so does everyone else - including your brothers. Have they not told you about her?”

Tom tried to think back to his conversations, only briefly hearing mentions of your names when he’d ask what they’d been doing. He couldn’t help but scroll through your pictures, soaking up every aspect of your life, well, only what you displayed. You had a dog, bingo. You seemed to be funny by the way you captioned your pictures, good. You seemed to have fun, love your family, and live a life that perfectly reflected how Harrison had described to him after he had came to the realization that Tom had already began crushing on you just by what he’d started telling him and the way you portrayed yourself.

Tom begged Harrison to be his wingman. Harrison practically scolded him the first few times. “I don’t want you to mess up this friendship.” “She’s not just a fling, Tom.” “Can’t you just be friends first?” Tom would settle for the last comment. “Fine, introduce us.”

————————————

Your conversations with Tom seemed so effortless that night. With too much alcohol in your system, you found yourself completely flustered by how pretty he was with his glazed eyes, rosy cheeks, and the constant giggles escaping his lips.

Though nothing ever happened that night, you found yourself spending more and more time with Tom in the coming weeks. Harrison didn’t mind as his relationship was truly flourishing with Grace. Weeks later, Tom had finally kissed you out of the blue and it changed everything. He was leaving for a few more weeks for filming, and instead of gaining the guts to make it official that night, he waited until he came back. It was the first thing he asked you when you reunited.

But, it wasn’t as simple as that. The logistics, the orchestrating, there was so much planning involved with what felt like should just be simple. Tom had fans, and sometimes they weren’t so nice. Tom wanted to protect you in every way possible. Though it was obvious you’d been hanging with the guys, since some of them had posted you, you had just figured that if you went out in public, you’d all go together and you couldn’t spend too much time just next to Tom. Posts were limited, it was all planned to a T. But you didn’t mind, because Tom made you happy and you knew it was for the best.

For a while, you did long distance. Your relationship had been based off of late night or early morning FaceTime calls, quick calls in between breaks, and short text messages throughout the day. It was hard but worth it. But this last time didn’t last near as long as others.

When word of COVID swept through the news, the world became frantic in all aspects. When everything began going into lockdown, Tom was sent straight back home from filming.

———————————

Laughter erupted between Harry, Tuwaine, and you. Tuwaine had showed you a both a video on TikTok he came across of a girl dancing in the midst of her friends to the song Heartbreak Anniversary. Though her coordination was obviously great, it was the reactions and how aggressive she was doing the dance that made it so funny.

As if on cue, Tom, Harrison, and Sam walked into the kitchen, Harrison mentioning that they couldn’t hear their program over their laughing. That’s when they found themselves gathered around the phone, joining in the laugher.

“I think we should recreate it. I think Y/N should learn the dance and be in the middle. It’ll be too good.” Harry said. “Me?” A nervous laugh escaping your lips. “For sure, we learn dances so fast, you’ll have it down in no time.” Harry was right - over the last few months, you’d formed certain hobbies with each of the boys. You had became just as close with them as Tom was, and one thing you and Harry found yourselves doing often was learning dances in the backyard, most likely disrupting the neighbors from your obnoxious cussing and laughter.

After protesting the dance, the guys had won and you were now practicing the dance. You felt so dumb, you couldn’t help but laugh. You didn’t allow the boys to see it so that when you videod, it would be their fresh reactions. And that’s what it was -

The boys circled around you, ready to endure the dancing. Right before, Tom had pulled you aside and reiterated not focusing that much time on him, though he wanted you to. You agreed, understanding the circumstances considering the world still was unaware of your relationship. To everyone else, you were just some friend that came to hang out every now and then.

So when the music started, you kept that little rule in the back of your mind. You tried to spend enough time with each, trying to make them laugh which definitely worked. You added your own flair to the dance, leaning back towards each of them, causing them to spit out laughter. You still found a moment with Tom, because it’d be too obvious that you were not trying to be obvious if you didn’t (haha).

Afterwards, the guys laughed over your shoulder as they watched their own reactions. “You killed that!” Sam exclaimed.

Hours later, you all sat in the living room, engrossed in your own thing - television, telephone, reading, someone was doing something. That’s when Tuwaine busted out laughing. “Shit, these comments are ruthless!” “Hmm?” You said, not even thinking to go check on the video you’d posted. When you opened up the app, Tom was looking over your shoulder to look for himself.

“Yeah, Harrison and Y/N are def fucking”

“Y/N and Haz 👀👀👀”

“Look at the way Haz looks at her 😍 obvi in love”

The comments continued. You cocked your head, watching back at the video. There was nothing much different between your interactions other than he was laughing the most - but that was just Haz. You shook your head, laughing as everyone but Tom joined it.

“Dang, Y/N, didn’t know we cared so much about each other!” Harrison said, giggling. “Right, just so in love!” You jokingly fell back into the couch, but soon noticed that Tom was barely participating in the jokes. Instead, he was leaning back, barely cracking a smile, even when you tugged his arm. You tried to shake off his reaction, not expecting him to actually be upset.

—————————

“I think I’m going to shower, wanna join?” You pulled out some sweatpants from the drawer that you’d claimed. “Why don’t you go ask Harrison?” You stopped dead in your tracks. “Excuse me?” Tom stayed silent. A nervous laugh escaped your lips, in hopes that his words were only joking but the straight face he was giving, along with no eye contact, made it clear that he was not joking.

“Are you being serious right now?” You asked quietly. You felt yourself beginning to get upset, considering you had never given him a reason to believe that for one, you’d ever cheat, and for two, that you and Harrison had ever had sex. He was well aware of the friendship that you had before Tom came along, and not only was it strictly platonic, but Grace had been in the picture the whole time.

Tom finallt replied with a shrug, which elicited rolling eyes from you. “You’re unbelievable.” You slammed the door to the bedroom, slamming the bathroom door across the hall. It may have been absurd, but in that moment you honestly were shocked. You and Tom had never really argued about something like this before - it just never showed itself as a problem. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been rumored dating each one of the boys before anyway, you didn’t know what was different.

Harrison had obviously heard the slamming of the doors, including the other boys who surrounded him. Sam pushed the television, looking around at the group, who was already exchanging looks. “Nose goes.” Tuwaine said, instantly pinning his finger to his nose, the rest of the boys following. Harrison was the last to reach his nose. “Aw, come on. You know this is probably about me.” Harrison whispered. “Guess you gotta find out.” Harry replied, shrugging.

Harrison slowly made his way to Tom’s room, slowly knocking before opening the door. Tom was laying on the bed on his phone, seeming that he was not phased by the events that seemed to have just occurred. “Tom?” “Hmm?” “What’s going on?” Harrison asked, inching closer to the bed.

Tom laid his phone on his chest with a smirk. “Why don’t you go find out?” “Seriously, Tom? Are we twelve right now?” Harrison huffed back, crossing his arms. When Tom didn’t reply, Harrison felt like tugging his hair out. It wasn’t very often that the two lads argued, but Harrison honestly couldn’t believe that THIS is what the argument was about this time.

Harrison made it clear time and time again before Tom and you had started dating that you two had been platonic from the beginning. Harrison loved you like a sister, but never anything more. Tom was well aware of that - so he didn’t understand why he was lashing out?

“Look, mate. I don’t know why you’re acting like this, but I can guarantee you, that if you keep on, Y/N isn’t going to like it. You have no right to take it out on her. You know she wouldn’t do that to you in a million years, hell, you know I’d never do that to you in a million years. If you want to be mad, be mad at me, though you have no true reason to be. Fans make assumptions all the time. You can’t possibly be upset when you’re the one who continues to vow her as a secret to the world. You orchestrate every plan with her to make sure that it looks like you’re not dating, so yeah, people might get skeptical. I’m sorry that you’re feeling insecure right now, but you have no right to accuse her of anything.” Harrison had no intentions of giving a speech, but he knew that it had to be said. Tom just looked at him, and for the first time, Harrison couldn’t get a read on him.

Harrison made his way out of the room, almost colliding with you as you came out of the bathroom. Harrison gave you a sympathetic smile before going back to the living room. Confused as to what had just happened in Tom’s room, you took a deep breath before opening the door. There was no doubt that you were still upset, but you also were bothered about the fact that this came so suddenly. Or had it? Had he been so skeptical before and you’d just never caught on? How could he not trust you?

As you walked in, Tom laid on his side away from you. You let out a small sigh, placing your dirty clothes in the hamper and walking over to the bed. “Tom?” No answer. “Can we talk?” Though you couldn’t see around him, Tom squeezed his eyes shut at those words. He finally turned over. “Hey.” You said. “Hey.”

You assumed an apology would come after that, but it never did. You tried to be reasonable. “I get it.” “Hm?” “I get it. I’m sorry that you’re feeling like this. I can’t say there haven’t been times I’ve gotten a little jealous or scared or insecure when you’re miles and miles away. But I’m right here. You have nothing to worry about.” “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have acted that way towards you.” “It’s okay, but you have to trust me. We’ve been together over a year now and this conversation has never came up. Why now?”

Tom took a minute to gather his words. He let out a slow shaky breath. “I don’t know how to put it into words. When I’m away, I long to be back home with you. It seems so simple to know that I get to home and you’re here for me. So, now that I’m home for longer than a week, I recognize that you have developed these amazing friendships with people who can be here for you more than me, and sometimes it just feels unreal that I have you - like I don’t deserve you. I just love you so much that the thought of you being with someone else ever hurts me, and I think that’s why the comments got to me so much this time. Y/N, I think I’m ready to tell the world. I’m tired of keeping you a secret. I want to show the world you’re mine, I want to be the one they make those comments about. Ridiculous, huh?” Tom let out a small chuckle and shook his head.

You grabbed his hands, shaking your head. “Babe, if it weren’t for Harrison, we wouldn’t be here. The relationships I’ve grown with everyone is over our shared love of you. We are so grateful that we can be altogether in each other’s presence and enjoy it because we all have a shared love. You’re so important to all of us, and that’s just how it works. I’m ready to tell the world if you are. I’d love nothing more than to finally call you mine publicly… and maybe go on a date outside of our backyard when this pandemic ends.” You say with a grin. He pulls you on top of him, laying a slow kiss on your lips. “You’re so important to me. Let’s show the world how much.”

#tom holland imagine #tom holland #tom holland x reader

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jaskierswolf · 4 years ago

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Hey babe <3 Here's a soulmate concept for you: soulmates share a braincell and all of the same kinks. (It's us. This is a callout post for us)

Soooo this is going undercut from the get go... I wasn’t sure how I was going to write this but once I started I kinda fell in love with it. It’s also late so I’m not sure how effective proof reading was....

Geraskier modern AU - Soulmates but kinky? 1.4k.

Warning: 18+, no actual sex but this is very horny...., mentions of sex toys, masturbation, handcuffs... and more? Seriously... 18+ Only.

Now with a sequel by @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde

Part Three now up

Also on AO3

Geralt was having a shit day, shit week really. Ciri had been sent home from school the day before for fighting with one her classmates, despite the fact that she had been defending herself from a bully. Work at the fire station had been especially draining too, non-stop calls all week. He was irrationally angry at the world, not helped by the burning itch under his skin. He’d been unbelievably frustrated all week and no matter how much he jerked off in the shower, he just couldn’t get rid of that ache at his core. His dreams this week had been pure filth, dreams of bursting through a window into a burning building to rescue the most beautiful man he’d ever seen, gorgeous cornflower blue eyes that haunted him even during his waking hours.

Dandelion’s eyes.

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. His infatuation with the OnlyFans star was getting out of hand. He’d discovered Dandelion just over a year ago, his dating life was non-existent and he had been getting unbearably horny. He’d stumbled upon Dandelion on a desperate bid to sate his growing urges. It had worked for a few months, but lately it had only been getting worse again. Every Monday evening he’d spend in frustrated torment, dreaming of Dandelion in lingerie, or watching him as he brought himself to the edge of an orgasm before letting out a pitiful whine as he gripped the base of his cock before he could come. This week he’d been plagued with the thought of Dandelion going about his day with a plug up his arse so that, by the time he was ready to record his video, he could get straight to fucking himself on his favourite bright pink vibrator.

The thought of the lube sliding down Dandelion’s thick thighs as he pulled out the plug had been enough to send Geralt over the edge as he bit down on his hand, come painting the bathroom tiles white before being washed away.

The weirdest part about Geralt’s fantasies was that no matter what he thought, or dreamt during the week, Dandelion’s videos would match when they were released on Wednesday. So Geralt was taking bets on either a role-play where Dandelion needed rescuing or the butt plug, he was secretly hoping butt plug, the fireman rescue scenario would be too close to home. He was already struggling to put distance between his life and Dandelion’s online one. He sighed and pulled out his phone to check the time. The video wouldn’t be released for another couple of hours at least, which was fine. He wouldn’t be able to watch it until Ciri was safely tucked up in bed, the unenviable life of a single parent. First he needed to finish the grocery shopping, pick up Ciri from school, cook dinner, help Ciri with her homework and then maybe watch some TV with her before he could bundle her upstairs to bed. It felt like an awful lot of work for his day off.

He groaned again, thinking about Dandelion in public had been a mistake, and one he’d made countless times before. If he were the superstitious type, he might have said that Dandelion was his soulmate. There were all sorts of papers and articles that suggested that soulmates existed, that your soulmate was one that understood you on a level that no one else did, that you in some way were telepathically linked. On one hand it would explain how a random OnlyFans porn star knew exactly what Geralt had been dreaming of all week despite the fact he never mentioned it in his comments, on the other hand it was bullshit.

Utter bullshit.

He grumbled under his breath and went in search of the snack aisle. He’d been craving white chocolate covered pretzels all day and Ciri had finished his supply off without telling him. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the other man standing by his favourite snacks until it was too late. He crashed into him, putting his arms around the other man to stop him from falling.

And suddenly bright cornflower blue eyes were staring up at him.

“Fuck!”

Geralt stared back into the eyes of Dandelion… the man he’d been infatuated with for months.

“Umm… hi?” Dandelion gave a little wave, biting his lip and running his hand through his soft brunet hair. Geralt swallowed as Dandelion released his lip, a move he’d done thousands of times in his videos.

“Sorry,” Geralt grumbled. “Wasn’t thinking straight.”

Dandelion laughed, a beautiful musical laugh that was even more captivating in person. “Oh darling, I never think straight. I’m Jaskier, by the way.”

Dandelion, no Jaskier, extended his hand and Geralt took it, surprised by his firm grip.

“Geralt.”

“White chocolate covered pretzel?” Jaskier asked, tilting his head and passing Geralt a box.

Geralt blinked and took the box without thinking. “Thanks.”

Geralt’s thoughts were going a hundred miles an hour and yet he could only manage single syllable words whilst Jaskier smiled at him, brighter than the fucking sun. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was so smitten.

Shit.

Jaskier just laughed again, his hand gripping Geralt’s arm. “Forgive me for being bold, but you sir, are fucking gorgeous.”

Geralt licked his lips, barely resisting the urge to push the brunet up against the shelves and kiss him senseless, but he knew he needed to tell Jaskier the truth before anything else was said. “You’re Dandelion.”

Jaskier blushed very prettily and scratched the back of his neck. “Ah. Yes. Hello.”

“Sorry, I thought you should know,” Geralt frowned, he hadn’t meant to make Jaskier uncomfortable. “I umm… I like your videos.”

Fuck, why had he said that?

Jaskier laughed, the sounding easing the tension in Geralt’s shoulders, and winked. “Oh so do I, they’re a pleasure to make.”

Geralt smiled at the joke. “What’s the video this week?”

“That would be telling. What would you like it to be, Geralt?” Geralt name fell from his lips like fucking prayer.

Geralt’s mouth went dry as he thought about his fantasies from Monday night, and the dreams of rescuing Dandelion that had he rutting against his bedsheets in his sleep. “Had a couple of ideas.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

“Well how about you give me your number, and we can discuss this somewhere more… private?”

Geralt nodded and they exchanged numbers. Geralt felt like he’d stepped into a fever dream, why Jaskier hadn’t been put off when he’d admitted he was a fan, he had no idea, but he wasn’t complaining. They’d only just met but Geralt couldn’t shake the feeling that Jaskier was going to change his life. He felt lighter already, the day seemed brighter. He was just saying goodbye to Jaskier when the man shuffled awkwardly, letting out a soft moan, his face flushing deep crimson.

“Jaskier?”

“Fuck, sorry. I umm, I’m filming a bonus video later tonight. Once I’ve posted Monday’s. It needed a little prep work,” Jaskier admitted with a sheepish smile. “If you catch my drift.”

Geralt blinked at Jaskier. “The fuck?” He muttered mostly to himself. “You didn’t happen to record a role-play on Monday did you?”

Jaskier’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. “How did you know?”

“It’s gonna sound stupid.”

“Tell me.”

Geralt took a deep breath and then closed his eyes, not wanting to see Jaskier’s face when he admitted it. “Been dreaming about it. Your videos always seem to align with my dreams, or umm… thoughts when I’m alone.”

“Like… soulmates?” Jaskier’s hand was on his cheek, the contact burning his skin and he felt a swell of arousal, heat prickling his skin.

“Never believed in that,” Geralt admitted, opening his eyes to find Jaskier gazing back at him with wide hopeful eyes that made Geralt feel strangely warm inside. “Starting to wonder though.”

Jaskier leaned in, brushing his lips against Geralt’s cheek. “Call me, Geralt, who knows maybe I’ll even make a video specially for you? Or…” Jaskier smirked, winking in a way that should have been illegal “you could always join me. There’s some things I’ve been dying to film that simply require a partner.”

“I’ll bring the handcuffs,” Geralt murmured so that only Jaskier could hear.

Jaskier laughed. “Oh we are going to get along splendidly, Geralt.”

Geralt chuckled as Jaskier sauntered away down the aisle, filling his basket with Geralt’s favourite foods. “Soulmates,” he scoffed.

Maybe it wasn’t bullshit after all.

#the witcher #geraskier #modern au #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #nsft #mind the rating #it gets spicy #wolfie's witcher writing #geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde

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carriagelamp · 4 years ago

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Art of Aardman

I found myself a cheap copy of the Shaun the Sheep movie, so I was rewatching a bunch of Aardman films earlier this month and decided to hunt down some books too. For anyone that doesn’t know, Aardman is a British stop-motion studio that does fantastic work like Wallace and Gromit, Shaun the Sheep, Chicken Run, Early Man… tons of cool stuff. They’re always quirky and funny and warm-hearted. This was just a very nice art book for anyone that’s a fan of Aardman stop motion and wants to see a bit extra; it shows some cool concept art and blows up the neat details in Aardman work, especially in their intricate stuff like The Pirates! In an Adventure with Scientists!

Asterix and the Picts (Asterix and the Chariot Race, and How Obelix Fell Into The Magic Potion)

I decided to try a couple of the new Asterix comics that were done by the new team, just to see if they stand up to the old ones (that and How Obelix Fell Into The Magic Potion cause I’d never read that one before). They were pretty decent! Asterix and the Picts was my favourite of the two though I wouldn’t say either are going to contest for my favourite Asterix comic... but still! The art looks good and the stories felt like what I would expect, they made for a pleasant couple evenings of reading especially since it’s been so long since I’ve read a new Asterix comic. If you’ve never read Asterix it’s one of the biggest name French comic series in North America, as far as I know and very worth the read. It’s about a single Gaulish village that’s holding out against the invading Romans through sheer force of will, slapstick hijinks, and a magical super-strength potion brewed by their druid. Lots of fantastic visuals and cute wordplay, even in the English translations.

Bear

I found out about this bastion of Canadian literature via tumblr post that was losing its collective mind over the fact that some bizarre bear-based erotica novella somehow won the most prestigious literary prize available in Canada. Since I too found this hilarious and unspeakably bizarre I had to give it a read, obviously. And yes, the flat surface level summary is... a librarian moves out into rural Ontario and falls in love with a literal for-real not-supernatural-not-a-joke bear. And I have to say… it is actually worthy of an award, which I was not expecting given that I was there for a laugh. It has beautiful writing, and the subtextual story is pretty interesting… it kind of makes me think of The Haunting of Hill House actually in terms of themes. (Womanhood, personhood, independence, autonomy partially achieved through escaping the male gaze by claiming non-human lovers... listen if I were still in university I would right a paper comparing the two novels).

I dunno man, it’s fucking weird. Actually a well-written book, but sure is about a woman falling in love with a literal bear. Give it a read if you want something bonkers but like… high-brow bonkers.

Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites

Best book I have read in like… a while. A long while. I am not a fast reader, and I consumed 90% of this book over a weekend. It’s not at all like Terry Pratchett, but at the same time it scratched an itch for me that I haven’t had satisfied since Pratchett’s death. A very clever, hilariously funny poly romance between a disabled werewolf, an anxious vampire lord, and an incredibly powerful woman, with heaps of social satire, political commentary, and sinister undertones. The whole thing reads a bit like fanfiction and I say that in the most flattering way possible -- it is so easy to jump right in and be immediately taken over by the characters and the world and the plot, you never feel like you’re fighting to engage even though the world-building is fascinating and expansive. It welcomes you in right away, it was the book equivalent of a quilt and a hug which is something I sorely needed with all this pandemic bullshit. If you read any of the books on this list, go read that one while I sit here in pain waiting for the sequel.

Kid Paddle

I watched the cartoon of Kid Paddle as a kid and was thinking about it recently, so I decided to hunt down some of the original comics online. They’re fun and weird, with a cute art style and fantastic monsters designs. (My favourites are always about Kid either daydreaming or playing games that involve Midam’s weird warty troll creatures. It’s like a cross between Calvin and Hobbes and Foxtrot with the fun sort of quirks that I love in Belgian comics. Unfortunately, unlike Asterix, I’ve only come across these ones in French, but if you can read French it’s totally worth popping over to The Internet Archive and reading the ones they have available.

The Last Firehawk: The Golden Temple

The lastest Firehawk book. Despite being written for quite young readers, I did enjoy the early books in this series quite a bit. They’re about a young owl and squirrel who found an egg for a magical species that was believed to be extinct. With the newly hatched firehawk, the three of them head off on a mission to find an ancient firehawk magic that could save the entire forest. Very basic adventure story but a good intro to the tropes for children. Unfortunately the quality really feels like it drops with each subsequent book; this will probably be the last one I bother reading.

Lumberjanes: The Moon Is Up

I honestly think I enjoy these Lumberjanes novels even more than the comics just because it really gives time to delve into each story and examine how the camper are really thinking and feeling about everything. (Also I’m always weak for novelizations of anything.) The Moon Is Up is a book that focuses more on Jo, and takes place during the camp’s much anticipated Galaxy Wars, a competition between cabins that goes over several days. While the campers prepare for these challenges though, they also run into a strange little creature with a penchant for cheese and theft. Roanoke cabin needs to keep ahead in Galaxy Wars and somehow deal with the fearsome Moon Pirates that a closing in...

Lumberjanes v4 (Out Of Time)

One of the Lumberjanes comics, a cool, girl-focused, queer comic series. Honestly, this is just a fun series that I never got as into as I should have. My advice is honestly to skip book one because it gets better as it continues, and I’ve really been enjoying the later books now that I’ve given it another go. It follows five campers at Miss Qiunzella Thiskwin Penniquiqul Thistle Crumpet’s Camp for Hardcore Lady Types (Jo, April, Molly, Mal, and Ripley) as they handle all sorts of challenges, from friendship to crushes, camp activities to supernatural horrors, getting badges to not being brutally killed. Great if you liked the vibe of Gravity Falls but want it to be queer-er.

Mooncakes

Another queer graphic novel, but unfortunately not a very good one. It really looked appealing and I had high hopes, but the book itself really didn’t hold up… I actually couldn’t even finish it, the plot was just too… non-existent. The art is fairly mediocre once you actually look at it, especially backgrounds, and it feels very… placid. Not much conflict or excitement or even a very compelling reason to keep reading. If you just want a soft queer supernatural you may get more mileage out of it than me, but it didn’t really do it for me. There’s better queer graphic novels out there.

New Boy In Town

One of the worst books I have ever read. My girlfriend had ordered a very different book online but through a frankly stupendous error was sent this 1980s pulp romance instead. Absolutely nauseating on levels I couldn’t even begin to enumerate here. Naturally we read the whole thing out loud. Probably took us 10 times longer to finish than it warranted because I had to stop every two sentences to lose my mind. If you like bad decisions, baffling hetero courting rituals, built-in cultural Christianity without actually calling it that, and gold panning then boy howdy is this the book for you.

(seriously, you better have patience for gold-panning if you attempt this one, because I sure learn that I don’t)

Piggies

This was a picture book I enjoyed as a kid and had a reason to reread recently. Honestly it’s just very cute and simple, and the art is completely mesmerizing. Wonderful if you know a young child that would enjoy a simple goofy boardbook.

Shaun the Sheep: Tales From Mossy Bottom

Related to my Aardman fascination earlier this month. I tried reading a varieties of Shaun the Sheep books — most of which are mediocre at best — but the Tales From Mossy Bottom Farm series is genuinely good. Just chapter books, of course, but the illustrations match the series’ concept art and each story feels like it could have jumped directly out of an episode. They’re just cute and feel-good! Kinda like Footrot Flats but more for kids, and from the sheep’s perspective moreso than the dog’s.

#aardman animation #shaun the sheep #lumberjanes #kid paddle #asterix #the last firehawk #hunger pangs: true love bites #marian engel #bear #canadian literature #canlit #queer lit #book review #book reviews #chatter

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corpse-of-bandersnatch · 4 years ago

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That's the whole interview with Jeff by Nicole Iskra, in which they also talked about him shaving of his chest hair. It was published in the Moviestar 05/2001 (the interview, not the chest hair).

I won't translate everything word for word, but if you wish a closer translation of a special topic/question, let me know and I try my best. (Also I apologize for the bad quality of the middle part of the scanned magazine).

PARALLAX – Madness from the Internet

„I was the Incarnation of their worst nightmare!“ - An interview with Jeffrey Combs

Before the interview starts, they introduce the latest movie Jeff was in back then, which is Parallax aka FearDotCom (almost the complete first column describes the Plot). Parts of it where shot in Luxembourg, which is also the Place where the interviewer meets Mr. Combs.

They meet in front of the Inter-Continental Hotel. Mr. Combs is PISSED, because the breakfast in the Hotel was awful (slimy fried egg) and the staff was rude (someone came in his room without knocking or apologizing, while he was sitting on his bed, only wearing a T-Shirt and Shorts).

They walk into the City of Luxembourg and Jeff's wondering about the many colourful life-sized cow sculptures, that you can find everywhere in town (quote: „Is this supposed to be art?!“).

He's searching for a souvenir for his wife, but in in his opinion, all of the dresses are outdated and their colours terrible. The interviewer teaches him the very important rule „Grün und Blau schmückt die Sau“.

They decide to eat in a Burger Restaurant called „Maybe not Bob's“, where he orders chicken wings with french fries and a coke (quote: „like a real American“).

Jeff speaks about the results of his genealogical research: Originally, his family came from Devon in England, but settled 1619 in Jamestown (Virginia) to work for Virginian Tobacco Co.

1. Question: The first question is about the renaming of FearDotCom to Parallax (reason being uncertainty about who owns the name). It follows more describing of the movie’s plot, this time from Mr. Combs himself.

His friend Bill Malone directed Parallax/FDC and offered Jeff the role, because they already worked together in Haunted Hill and Perversions of Science.

2. Question: You got along so well with Peter Jackson while filming The Frighteners. Will you at least get a Cameo in Lord of the Rings, even if it's only as Orc Nr. 260?

JC: That's the one Orc, that survived, right? (laughs). Nah seriously, I didn't get a role, unfortunately. I auditioned, , but the problem was the british accent. I can imitate it, but when you're surrounded by actors like Ian McKellen and Ian Holm, it's really not hard to tell who's a „real Briton“ and who's not.

3. Question: Did your latest movie before Parallax/FDT – The Attic Expeditions – had it's premiere in America yet?

JC: No, not yet. The world premiere was a couple of weeks ago here in Luxembourg and it was also shown on Festivals in Edinburgh and Amsterdam. Sadly, they didn't show it on the film festival in Brussel.

I'm really enthused by The attic Expeditions, because it's interesting, not linear, not logical, with few horror elements, but the horror is mostly psychological. It's like a dream in a nightmare on a trip. The longer you watch the movie, the less you know, what's real, it's a really complex movie, especially by american standards.

4. Question: In retrospect, would you call your role as Herbert West a curse?

JC: (sighs) Somehow, it's a curse and a blessing at the same time. Thanks to the role, I was branded as „Horror actor“ in Hollywood. After Deep Space Nine I was branded as „Horror- and Sci Fi- actor“. Movie people love to categorize you. On the other hand, the role of Herbert West opened up a lot of possibilities for me.

5. Question: 10 Years ago you told a funny story at a convention in New York, about sth. that happened while filming From Beyond. Could you maybe tell it again for the Moviestar readers?

JC: You mean the one with the children?

MS: Exactly!

JC: (grins) Well, we were already filming for a month – so I've been in this horrible make-up for 30 days already, with this awful head piece that looked like a red dog dick. I looked worse than Quasimodo! That's why I ate mostly in my dressing room. One day, they shot a commercial with a bunch of 4-year-old children in mushroom costumes on the same soundstage. We met in the hallway and as soon as those poor, innocent children saw me, all hell has broken loose. I was the incarnation of their worst nightmare, they screamed and ran to their mothers, who wanted to lynch me on the spot. So now it was me, who ran away.

But that's how it is, when you have a lot to do with make-up and masks and stuff like this. Not long ago, I was strapped to a cross made out of tubes, my throat was „cut“, there was blood all over me. And sometimes, when you're hanging there long enough, the crew just forgets that you're there, because for them, you just turned into a part of the set. Until you give a signal: „Umm sorry, guys, could you..maybe..“ - „Oh yeah sure, sorry Jeff, sorry..“

6. Question: (you might already know this one from this post): After that scene in From Beyond, in which you get eaten by this worm, your chest is as smooth as that of a baby – did they shave off your chest fur?

Jeff: Yes! (laughs)

MS: Did you do it yourself?

Jeff: Yes and I learnt something very important: Never use a normal razor blade, an electric razor is way better and safer and it doesn’t itch as badly, when the hair grows back. I had to shave my chest for a theater role once as well. I was 26 or so and played an 18-year-old.

7. Question: Do you still play in theatres regulary?

JC: No, not in the past couple of years, though theatre is very dear to my heart. Back in the days, I loved to play in theatres – living like a gypsy, 8 weeks in San Diego, and somewhere else afterwards. But that's not how I want to live today, now that I have a family. I don't like to leave my two little girls for several weeks, plus an engagement in a theatre isn't really helpful financially. I earn the same money in 1 week of shooting a movie as I do in 4-5 months of theatre work.

8. Question: I read that Woody Allen pays every actor 5.000 Dollar, because in his opinion, no one is worth 20 Million Dollar, neither beginner nor Superstar. What do you think about the explosive growth of fees nowadays?

JC: I do think that you should take the money, that the market offers you. But somebody, who earns 20 Millions per movie should share at least a million with their not so lucky co-actors. No, seriously, it's not that easy to make a living. A friend of mine got a job, where he plays the brother of Kevin Costner. When I asked him, if he gets payed well, he shook his head and said, that he only gets tariff plus 10%. Tariff is the lowest wage possible, that was defined by union. My friend had the choice to either work with Costner or don't. And as an actor you always hope that a movie like this becomes a success and maybe improves your chances in Hollywood.

MS: Thank you for making so much time for us!

#Jeffrey Combs #corpse-krams

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rainbowvamp · 3 years ago

Text

Willow

Modern Reincarnation AU. Merlin and Lancelot go through a photo album. ~1700 words. Lancelot/Merlin. No warnings apply. (Mention of car wreck that killed Lancelot in a past life.)

A late birthday gift for Mod @little-ligi, because I couldn't have made this fest work without her. You're the best Ligi 💗

There’s no need to print photographs anymore. It’s easy enough to look at a screen and and flip through thousands, hundreds of thousands of images. But there has always been something special about choosing individual moments, perfect snapshots, and cataloging them into a book whose pages he can flip through. Merlin has been alive for over 1500 years. Books are one of the most familiar things he knows. One of the only things that hasn’t changed much in 1500 years.

People changed, clothes changed, transport changed, but not books. Those had remained nearly the same. You open the front cover and you look at what’s inside, just like always.

After 1500 years of adaptations, it was nice for this one thing to remain the same.

So when Lancelot hands him the photo album, Merlin is about to break his own face in half with how much he smiles at it. It’s a good thing, no a great thing, that Lancelot has done. The photo album is a deep forest green, the cover embossed with “The Book of Us.” In silver letters that Merlin traces with his fingers.

“What’s the occasion?” He asked, almost unable to take his eyes off of the book.

“Today is the day we met in this life, 10 years ago. I thought it might be nice.” Lancelot’s voice is so sincere, that Merlin has to look at him, has to look at the face of the man that he has loved without end or conditions for 1500 years. Tears prick his eyes because of all the love he see’s in Lancelot’s.

“I love you.” Merlin’s voice is soft when he finally finds it, and Lancelot crushes him to his broad chest, giving him a stability Merlin didn’t even know he needed until he had it.

“And I you,” Lancelot kissed Merlin’s cheek and Merlin’s fingers itched to open the photo album, but he didn’t want to leave the circle of Lancelot’s arms. He’s content to just listen to soft sound of Lancelot’s breaths, feel the pounding of his heart against his chest.

It’s Lancelot who finally breaks the silence. “Would you like to see the photos, my love?” His voice is soft and nonjudgemental. It’s obvious to Merlin that either a yes or a no would be acceptable.

“Yeah,” Merlin finally says, composing himself to pull away and walk with Lancelot to the couch.

They sit and Lancelot waits patiently for Merlin to feel ready to open the book.

The first few pages cover the span of over a year, with so few pictures taken before Lancelot knew him, before he remembered. Several of them are pulled from Instagram, captions included. There’s one of an empty seat and a drained coffee cup, and the caption just reads “I think I’ve met the man of my dreams.” It’s from their first coffee date, Lancelot’s post-date instagram update. Merlin laughed aloud, almost having forgotten it. The next is a candid shot of Merlin. They’d taken a weekend holiday a few months into dating and gone for a hike. The sun was setting behind Merlin, blurring out his features, but the silhouette was so obviously him.

The next was one of Lancelot cooking breakfast, looking over his shoulder to smile curiously at the camera.

Then the first selfie they’d ever taken together, complete with Lancelot pressing a kiss to Merlin’s cheek.

The photographs become more numerous, after that. Some of them and all their friends. There’s the photoset from Morgana’s birthday party (She’d rented a photo booth “because why they hell shouldn’t I spend Uther’s money on bullshit?”) There’s the Christmas photos for the dinner they always throw at Merlin’s because Lancelot doesn’t have any living family to go home to. Arthur and Morgana pop by when Uther becomes insufferable. Gwen and Elyan bring their father by to say hi. Leon stops by with gifts on his way to Mithian’s parent’s house. All these silly little moments caught on camera and made eternal, printed and carefully organized.

There’s the set they took at their third anniversary, a gift from Gwen and Arthur (who had recently gotten their heads out of unsavory places and started dating). There’s the picture of he and Gwaine standing side be side, smiling like old friends despite having just met twenty minutes ago. Merlin has a bruise forming on his cheek, but he’d insisted Lancelot take picture, to commemorate. “It’s not everyday I get in a bar fight, my love. Humor me.” And Lancelot always did.

There’s the terrible sledding disaster of 2015, where Merlin had crashed straight into a tree, and had been having too much fun to stop it with his magic. This is a still from a video, shortly before the actual disaster occurred. By the time the disaster was eminent Lancelot was no longer filming.

There’s the pictures he and Lancelot used to sneak of each other, just to have. Lancelot watching tellie. Merlin having a nap on the couch. Lancelot unclogging the sink. Merlin folding laundry. There was no rhyme or reason, then, for why they took the photos. It was a fun phase, each feeling challenged to take the most mundane pictures, always followed by a faked whining or griping.

There’s the picture of them from two years ago, in tailored suits, surrounded by friends, making their vows, followed by a series of all their friends dancing. A professional photographer had taken these photos, but Merlin always preferred the less polished pictures he and Lancelot took themselves that day.

Like the one Merlin had taken of Lancelot after he’d shoved cake in his face. Or Gwen’s candid picture of them gazing at each other like the biggest idiots in love.

Merlin doesn’t know when he started to cry, but he feels a tear roll down his face only when Lancelot pushes it away.

“I hope these are happy.” Lancelot puts his arm around him and Merlin nuzzles his shoulder. It’s enough, right now, to feel his warmth and smell his soap and just be near him. It’s grounding in a way only Lancelot ever was. The years with Lancelot, and there always seemed to be so many fewer of those than years without him, always made him feel the most alive. The most loved. The memories of Lancelot were good, but they didn’t sustain him, not like this would.

“Come here.” Merlins said, wiping his face and standing suddenly. He takes Lancelot’s hand and leads him out to the car.

“Where are we going?” He asked as they buckled the seat belts, but Merlin just shook his head.

“I want to show you something.”

—

The self storage place they pull up to is one of the last things Lancelot expects.

“Come on.” Merlin gets out and Lancelot dutifully follows, just like always. He lets Merlin take his hand again and watches as he pulls out a key ring that Lancelot’s never seen before and flips through them.

‘I put everything away, every time I meet one of you.” Merlin explains. “I used to have to keep the houses, to keep the things, but these are more secure.” He finally finds the key he needs as they stop outside a storage unit. “This one is from when we lived in the 1960s. Found you in Wales, then, of all places.” He smiled wanly. “We had 10 years together before you died in 1968. Car wreck.”

Lancelot only ever remembers bits of pieces of his past lives, normally only the good bits. “You weren’t with me, I presume?”

Merlin laughed as he wrenched the storage room door open. “You wouldn’t let me.”

“Is that why you never let me ride in a car without you now?”

“Part of it. I also just don’t like to be away from you.” Merlin flicked a light on and Lancelot was surprised by the sheer volume of things that existed in the room. “This was all of your things. I usually give myself about a year to wallow before I pack it away. If it’s here I never have to forget it, but I can still come and see it, if I need to.” He drags Lancelot to the back. On a wire rack there are plastic containers that looks like they’ve been taped shut. Merlin mutters a quick spell to remove the taping and then digs through the box. There are books, folders, papers, but then Merlin pulls out a photo album.

“I want you to see this. Because… I don’t know. It feels important.” Merlin is a very very old man, but he still doesn’t always have all the answers. Sometimes he just has to trust his gut and hope for the best.

He takes the album gently. It doesn’t smell stale the way old books usually do, most likely due to Merlin’s magic, but he flips it open anyway, without question. The first picture is of him and Merlin, a different him, but the same Merlin, Merlin’s arm is slung over him and they’re posing much more like a happy couple than a pair of friends. “Who took this?” He asked, tracing the lines of Merlin’s face. He looks so much older here than the Merlin he knows.

“Elyan. He liked photography. Took well to most of the Arts that life, actually.” Merlin smile and flipped a few pages to show Lancelot a picture of Elyan with a painting. “Abstraction was sort of the thing, then. He does a good job of it.”

“I don’t know anything about art, but it’s very compelling.” Even in the dreamy old photo, which was saying quite a lot.

“I brought it, a few years after he died. It’s in one of the other units.”

“How many of these do you have?” Lancelot asked, turning the page and almost laughing aloud at the image of Gwaine holding Arthur in a headlock. The two of them never changed, apparently.

“Just a couple. There are quite a lot of units in each building.”

“You own this building?”

“I’ve been alive for 1500 years, my love.” Merlin kisses his cheek and Lancelot closes the album. “I have a lot of stuff.”

“We’re taking this with us.”

“That was always the intent.” Merlin closes the box and spells the tape back into place. “That was a gift from you, too, actually, birthday present.”

“I’m predictable.”

Merlin laughed and wrapped an arm around Lancelot, tilting his head up to kiss his forehead. “You’re sentimental, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He pulled Merlin’s head back down to kiss hims squarely on the lips, making Merlin finally pause for the first time since they’d gotten in the car. “Neither would I.”

#mercelot #merlance #minimercelotweek2021 #day 5: gift #I was gonna write a fill for Thursday based on stuff I knew you liked but yesterday was a wash for writing #but maybe I'll get to it before the end of mercelot week anyway 👀#mmw2021fill

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jae-canikeepyou · 5 years ago

Text

| right here & now | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: alternate universe + youtuber!yn

a/n: thank you for the request and i really loved writing this so much even if the idea of having yuno as my bf will never happen lol ;-; anyway, i hope you enjoy reading my lovelies! 💕~j.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the curtains swayed with the wind spells that entered your room, marking a new morning. this morning however, was a very special one that you planned this for months hoping it would pull off like you wanted it to. you stretched in your bed, kicking off the blankets that trapped the heat around your body. the clock said 6 a.m. and you had more than enough time to prepare for the flight scheduled at noon.

pressing the button to record, you began your vlog by doing a gwrm routine and choosing your ootd, in which you were always always indecisive for because sometimes you would find yourself facetiming him and he’d pick the right one for you. perks of having a fashionable boyfriend, yes?

“guys..” you let one a little whine as you pat lightly on your face with a concealer. “i’m really nervous because even though i texted yuno that i’ll be having a meeting for a collab with another channel, i can’t imagine how he’d feel if i didn’t reply him for the next hours. or maybe if i don’t reply him at all.”

of course being the busy people you both were, even a message from each other was a big deal because hello, a long distance relationship was a struggling kind and some instances, fall-outs were common. although you did understand the need of physical comfort from a loved one, it was a matter of trust and patience on a daily basis that you would eventually end up in his arms when that time came.

and that time was today.

how you met nct 127’s jaehyun was definitely unexpected. you were one of the few singer-songwriter youtubers invited to a performance at an event along with other renowned singers. the group came as a special guest, giving fans and fellow artists greetings and basically hyped up the entire hall with their music as if it was their concert alone. you weren’t that interested at first since the event was your very first invitation, so you were more conscious on yourself than having the time to appreciate others, but you were a fan of nct 127’s music.

jaehyun too was lowkey, a fan of your channel. he didn’t want to show how giddy he felt when you stood on that stage; a guitar in hand and just a microphone by your lips. he was aware of the hand-held cameras the staff pointed him with, and tried to keep a straight face. however, when you reached the peak of your unplugged version of your song, the feels hit him differently. you sounded soulful, gentle, that it grew the urge for him to want to do a collab with you.

so when the event finished and you were told to meet other artists at their respective tent / booths, he ran into you— he couldn’t hide his smile anymore. you shook hands with him, realizing that he didn’t took his eyes off of you. “you were amazing out there.” you shyly complimented him, his shimmering suit shone like his eyes did.

“i’d say the same with you y/n.” he smiled and liked the way how your name rolled on his tongue. “i hope we can do a collab some day.”

“that’d be nice.”

jaehyun itched to have contact with you since then; that was three years ago. the last time he saw you in person was when you went to seoul weeks after for an interview. his friends could see the pink dusting his cheeks when you posted a new song, cover or vlog. sometimes he’d forget there was practice because he was too immersed into you. it was up until a couple of months after the event had he built up the courage to direct message you in instragram, finally having to connect with you.

then the rest was history and soon reaching the third year of your relationship. both of your feelings were mutual and came to a decision that you both were a couple. for jaehyun the most, it was quite difficult to dodge the questions at talk shows/interviews relating to love life when all he had in his heart was you and you only. on the other hand, you had to ignore questions on insta live whether you were seeing anyone; because they noticed a different aura within you on every video you upload.

“if you’re wondering how i’m planning to ‘ignore’ yuno.. well, i chose to not use my phone for the next 14 hours. i have to pretend that i’m ‘busy’ and ‘occupied’ with work.” you now entered the lift to exit your apartment and headed to the taxi waiting for you. “hopefully it’ll convince him why i couldn’t use my phone.”

you continued to film your surrounding for aesthetics, choosing the suitable background music. so far in the day, you talked about how hard long distance was. not seeing jaehyun personally for three years was a challenge. sometimes when you knew that he’d visit the city for a tour, you’d be filled with work and filming and bummed out because you wouldn’t be able to see him.

johnny messaged you just before your breakfast that they just finished rehearsal and were now taking a break. you sighed a lot more today as you knew he’d be sending you a message any second.

or so you thought.

♡ yuno ♡ would like to facetime you.

you panicked because right now, you were at the airport. however, luckily enough, you were at a fastfood chain located a little far off from the departure hall, so he wouldn’t notice that you were at the airport and just pigging out at some random restaurant. you placed the phone just beside your laptop, pretending to ‘edit’ videos when you were actually chatting away with johnny for the plans when you reach seoul. the camera was at the other side of your belongings, seated at a blind spot where only you could be seen in his perspective.

“hi babe.” he greeted you with a flying kiss as his sweat rolled down his temples. “oh? you’re outside this early?” he moved sideway as if he could see anything behind you.

“i’m having breakfast.” you showed a subway sandwich and an orange juice. “yeah well, i’m preparing for a meeting later.”

gosh i hate lying to him.

he moistened his lips, brushing his hair back with a headband. “what meeting?” he raised a brow, making you chuckle that he obviously didn’t see your message.

you rolled your eyes, turning the phone to the laptop screen and showed him the chat from the night before. “i told you i have a collab with another channel, didn’t i? anyway, i have to finish up and head for the meeting. call you later?”

“ah..” he whined. “we didn’t even talk for a minute, but okay. i’ll wash up and call you again. take care babe! i love you so much.”

“i love you too.” you said before ending the call. clenching your chest, you sighed deeply as you faced the camera that recorded the whole conversation. “this is hard. i never expected him to call me. i’ll make sure i won’t use my phone starting from now.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you yawned quite loudly as you watched the airplane icon reach the borderline of south korea at the screen before you. now that you thought about it, you haven’t recorded anything since the departure and it was a perfect timing because the sun was just rising by your side of the window.

“okay, hello everyone. i’ve been flying for hours that i lost count. but, i’m reaching seoul in about thirty minutes, so i’ll make this quick.” zooming into the ombré sky of blue, pink and orange combined, you hummed a tune that jaehyun used to sing to you to sleep. “see that beautiful colors. my boyfriend sees this morning every day and i’m seeing him really soon.”

once you were out of the aircraft and walking along the hall the leads to the exit, your heart stopped in realization that not only you were seeing jaehyun as a fan after three full years, but actually seeing him officially as his girlfriend. and this thought made your eyes well because you couldn’t believe it was really happening. mixtures of excitement and nervousness took over your body that perhaps other passengers recognised you, and you waved at them in response that you were in seoul for collaboration.

the boys’ manager dressed- rather disguised himself as your guide and picked you up at the airport. he waved at you to catch your attention. when you did so, johnny dialled to call you as he was seated at the car parked outside. “y/n!” he greeted. “turn around! i’m in the car!”

you opened the door and he hugged you quick. his camera was pointed directly at you, obviously recording the moment for jaehyun to watch later. “hi johnny! it’s been so long!”

“too long! we missed a lot of chances to see other whenever the group visits your city. sometimes jae would tear up- or cry but don’t tell him i told you that.” he giggled and helped you sit comfortably in the car. “are you vlogging right now?”

“aw that’s sweet of him.” you pout. “yes i’ve been vlogging since i left my apartment. say hello to the fam.”

“hey what’s up it’s your boy johnny.” he waved and curled his fingers at the cringiness of himself.

johnny felt his phone vibrating. it was a call from mark who updates him of jaehyun’s movements while he was out of the studio. the call was on speaker so you would be able to hear the conversation. “hyung. should i wake him up now?”

you giggled at how that was exactly jaehyun’s habits. “i think you should, mark.” your voice alerting him of your presence.

the younger boy held his reactions in a whisper, afraid that he might awake your boyfriend. “oh my g- hi y/n! i love your acoustic cover of ‘love me now’. jaehyun hyung teared up last night after watching it.”

“really? he teared up again?” your heard sank to the ground knowing how he really felt behind the cameras separating the both of you. your arms weakened at the point but continued to vlog.

“yeah. hold up i’m just gonna-” mark paused and all you heard was the fall of headphones and low groans. “hyung, johnny said he’ll get us food. what do you want?”

a groggy voice contemplated the events of today before yelping in shock that he has a recording to finish. “agh crap what time is it?” jaehyun asked, even if you wanted to speak, johnny refrained you from doing so. you shouldn’t blow your cover now.

“it’s quarter past two.” mark said and helped the dude up on his toes. “we’re getting fried chicken.”

“tsk i was about to call y/n after i washed up.” jaehyun rubbed his eyes. “oh yeah johnny, better come here quick. taeyong hyung said we still have some parts to record.”

you held in your laughs as you covered your lips, sharing identical expressions with johnny. he breathed out before speaking. “uh yeah sure, but i did my part of the cover already. so it’s just you left. see you soon.”

the car was pulled over the studio the boys have been gathered at. some were practicing their choreography while others were resting up. you walked slower than usual and johnny noticed this gestures of yours. who wouldn’t be nervous at a situation like this? it has been three years, so he could imagine the tension between you and yourself only.

mark told everyone to take caution because jaehyun has a sharp eye, that he could read the atmosphere of anything was fishy. even the slight percent of that feeling he could crack an egg open, and the plan would fail. they didn’t want that to happen, this was a special moment for him and you came all the way to surprise him. the effort alone was already precious.

you vlogged again, your chest began its countdown whilst you hid behind a drumset at the recording booth. gladly though, your frame was petite compared to the instrument so you wouldn’t be seen immediately at first glance. cameras were set up and hidden at corners where jaehyun couldn’t see them. all there was was a foldable compact device attached to the mic stand.

the plan was to let jaehyun sing his part of high school musical cover of ‘right here, right now’, due to that one time he playfully joked about being your troy bolton. so you kept that request in mind and chose to do the recording on the day you came to seoul. you pre-recorded your part last week, and you would wait for him to finish his part.

“this is it guys. my hand is shaking, my heart feels like its about to come out of me. i’m already tearing up because i’m going see yuno in less than five min-”

the door swung open causing you to jolt, making one drumstick slide to its abyss, but you managed to catch before it fell. flutters of papers were then placed on the black metal stand, and a low baritone clearing throat for a vocal exercise sure revealed it was yuno. just the impact of careless actions alone, you could tell the person in the studio was indeed your boyfriend.

you exchanged looks from the camera and to jaehyun, repeating this several times because it was hard to catch the timing.

“which part do i have to re-do?” jaehyun’s voice sent shivers down your spine and you fanned yourself keep your calm. “hm? this is a new song cover? okay, but this is a duet though.” he said, checking the titles for the second time. the guys had to bend down slightly from where jaehyun was standing as he was very clueless. “ah so it’s the reprise version? it’s pretty short.” he cleared his throat again.

“can you imagine what would happen, if we could have any dream?..” gosh how honey like his voice was. “i’d wish this moment, was ours to own it and that it would never leave..”

“then i would thank that star, that made our wish come true.”

jaehyun’s eyes grew as your voice was heard through the headphones. he tried to keep his cool, even though his expression changed a little. “‘cause he knows that where you are, is where i should be too.”

in a few seconds the chorus was about to be sung, you left your camera at the bass drum when you pulled him for a back hug, after when he sang.

“right here. right now?..” jaehyun lost tune at the latter word, turning to see the person who was hugging him; soon revealing your beaming smile. he looked back at his friends who were jumping and cheering, he squinted at their phones and cameras that were up to capture the moment.

he removed his headphones as reality punched him in the gut, arms quickly wrapping you for a longing embrace. “y/n..” he said, carrying you slightly to enjoy the surprise. the boys came into the recording studio, your ears ringing at their volumes of woohoo’s and yeah’s.

he finally saw you in the flesh, the real deal. not behind low quality screens or hours of long phone calls. you were with him now, and that was all that mattered to him.

“surprise?” you tiptoed to kiss his cheek but he nuzzled himself at the crook of your neck to hide his tears. they were dampening your clothes a little. “aw babe.”

“is he crying?” johnny asked with a teasing voice and when he didn’t get any response, he turned to the camera. “ladies and gents, and johfam, our boy jae is finally crying in front of cameras.”

“shut up.” jaehyun butt back, his nose pink and his eyelashes were slight wet. “you’re here.” he hugged you again like how a koala would do.

you held his hand and intertwined them with yours. “yeah, i’m here- oh wow you’re shaking.”

jaehyun’s chin rested on top of your head, his dimples deepening as he gave the same smile whenever he’d facetime you. “i thought you had a meeting with another channel?” he asked, swaying you from side to side as you all came out of the recording booth.

lunch then was placed on the table, you sat amongst them, they dug in like they haven’t eaten good food. “i did. the channel’s called johnny’s communication center.”

the said boy gave you a wink and jaehyun caressed his neck in bewilderment. “hyung, you were part of this?”

“maybe, maybe not.” he popped a kimbap into his mouth, savouring the flavours. “i picked her up at the airport and the boys knew it all along.” he said, later noticing jaehyun’s attention was full onto you. he nudged the others to give you both space and left with their fair share of the food.

jaehyun rubbed circles at your back, he loved keeping you close. the smile never left his face and his ears went to a deeper red. “you planned all this for me?”

“because i missed you a lot more than you think.” you poked his dimples that he smiled widely than before.

“i missed you too.” he stared into you. “when are you leaving though?”

a chuckle of faux disbelief escaped your lips. “yuno, i just got here and you’re asking me when i’ll leave?”

he brought your hand up for a small kiss. “i’m asking because i don’t want you to, y/n. just stay with me.” his voice practically begging you, and you softened your gaze at him, wanting the same as well.

“i don’t know when i’ll see you next..” he trailed off as you wait for his response. “..i meant that in person.”

you inclined yourself to him and hugged him tighter. “let’s think of that later. we can make arrangements. all that matters is i’m here right now.” you giggled with pressed lips.

jaehyun stared down at you, leaning in for your first kiss. “gosh i love you so much.”

#nct 127 #nct jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun au #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun oneshot #nct yoonoh #yuno #jaehyun nct #jung yoonoh #jeong yuno #jeong jaehyun

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edelwoodsouls · 4 years ago

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maybe in another universe - ch. 1 [fic]

Jon isn’t expecting anything good when he’s evacuated to the countryside. Living with his crush rival he can just about handle. The secret magical world in the upstairs wardrobe, on the other hand, might just break him.

AKA: Narnia AU

Word Count: 2,707 | Also on Ao3 | Other Chapters: 2,

chapter one: the train to everywhere

As the train leaves the station, Jon doesn't look back.

The corridors outside his carriage are filled with other kids, craning their necks out of the windows to wave at their parents, tears streaming down their faces. It's a mess of loud noise and emotion that makes Jon wholly uncomfortable.

There's no one for him to look back to, no one to share tears with. No one to yell at him, you'll be home before you know it! and have fun, dear! it's okay!

He curls his arms around his suitcase and stares out the opposite window, at the vanishing buildings. Smoke shimmers over the horizon, mixing with the clouds, and Jon tries to imagine the view from above. When the planes fly overhead, do they recognise the smothered lights flickering below? Do they spare a thought for the bodies on the other side of the flames?

The corners of his suitcase begin to dig painfully into his skin.

Before he can spiral any further, the door to the compartment rattles open with a sudden gunshot sound that sets every nerve in his body alight.

He flinches and turns to see a girl roughly his own age, head swathed in a dark blue hijab, pressing her lips in an apologetic line.

"Sorry," she shrugs noncommittally, inclining her head. "Is that seat taken?"

"Uh, no."

"So I can take it?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks." She shoulders her way into the room, heaving her own suitcase up onto the rack above their heads with an easy movement. Jon grips his own sheepishly - several blows to the head have taught him that he is nowhere near strong enough to haul it up that high.

The girl settles into the seat opposite him, retrieves a book from the recesses of her thick navy trench coat. It's a weathered copy of The Iliad, well-thumbed and annotated.

He's leaning forward curiously before he can help himself.

The girl looks up with raised eyebrows. "Nosy much?"

"Sorry," he shrinks back behind the large bulk in his lap. "I just- I used to have that same copy. Before..."

The girl's face softens, infinitessimly. "It's one of my favourites," she offers, almost apologetically. "I started keeping all my books in the shelter a few months ago. It's the only reason this survived."

Jon says nothing - there's nothing he can really say. In this moment, they are just two strangers, sharing a burning world.

"I'm Basira," the girl says, with a decisive look. "I'm from Finchley, being evacuated to Dorset. You?"

"Uh- same," Jon blinks, surprised. "I'm Jon. I've- I've never seen you before?"

"I mean, I imagine you go to the boys' school."

"Not until last year."

"Oh."

Jon glances down at his hands, hoping Basira can't see the way his fingers are white-knuckled against his suitcase.

"Well, I was new before-" she waves her arms vaguely, "all this. Home-schooled. So not really surprising."

"Oh." Slowly, one by one, Jon allows his muscles to relax. "That must've been nice. Quiet."

"That's one word for it," Basira mutters in a way that implies a hundred other meanings than nice. "I was really looking forward to actually getting to know people, y'know? New people, my own age."

"Well, you know me now?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do."

Jon tries for a smile, but it comes out as something more of a grimace. All the same, Basira seems to get the sentiment, and returns it.

~/~/~/~

Martin hates trains.

In theory, they're the perfect vessel. Hours of uninterrupted time, the world moving beneath your feet as you curl into a seat with a hot cup of tea and your favourite paperback.

But he hasn't been on a train since his mother sent him away to London, and that sort of memory tends to leave one with a distaste by association.

Now here he is, only a few years later, being sent away again.

He's just glad his mother refused to take him in. He's not sure he could bear going back to that house, potentially indefintiely.

All the same, he's trying to make the best out of the journey that he can. He's heard horror stories of other evacuees, forced to work on farms or taken in only to be used for their ration cards. If that's the sort of fate he's headed for, he'll take the luxury of a nice cuppa and the drafting of a few poems whilst it's still there.

And he really is in the perfect place for it. The smouldering London skyline behind him, the fathomless countryside ahead. A world in flux and chaos, defined in fire and water.

He notes that down in his journal.

"Any good thoughts?" Melanie asks through a mouthful of sandwich.

Martin blinks up at the girl sharing his compartment, an embodiment of chaos if ever he's seen one. She's lying across the seats opposite him, her suitcase open and contents strewn everywhere - she'd been digging through it to find something inane which turned out to be in her pocket the whole time, and hasn't bothered to pack it up again.

Martin's hands itch to tidy the space - instead he grips his pen a little too hard and settles for a quzzical smile.

"Your writing," she points with the corner of her sandwich. "You look very deep in concentration and dramatic. Any good thoughts?"

"I suppose," he shrugs, retreating somewhat under Melanie's energetic gaze. "Something about dichotomies. Peace and war, fire and water. City and country."

"Men and women, nurse and soldier. Alive and dead."

Martin raises an eyebrow. "I guess."

"Hey- if there's any time to be morbid, it's during a war, dontcha think?"

"True. Do you write?"

"Nope. I do photography, though."

Martin can feel himself getting interested despite himself. "Really? Do you have a camera?"

Melanie nudges at the pile of clothes somehow still heaped in the boundaries of her suitcase, revealing the packaging of a beautiful, sleek camera piece that makes Martin fall a little in love with this stranger instantly.

"Is that a Retina I?" he asks, unable to quite keep the awe out of his voice.

"You really know your tech," Melanie says approvingly. "Yeah, it is. I'm going to be a supernaturalist."

"A what?"

"A supernaturalist, Martin. I'm going to be the first person to prove that ghosts exist. I'm going to get one on film."

"Huh."

Martin deliberately avoids Melanie's eyes. To believe in the supernatural is not generally approved of, let alone to talk about it with the sudden reverence and conviction that have crept into Melanie's voice.

He's gotten very used to pretending he's never seen anything out of the ordinary. The smoke that follows him around like a shadow, the spiders that seem to understand him just a little too intelligently - they all have mundane explanations.

He's never met someone so open about such things.

He lasts a matter of seconds before his tongue gets the better of him. "What've you seen?"

Melanie grins, as if she's been waiting from the moment they met just for him to ask. "I got shot by a ghost."

Martin almost knocks over his tea. "I'm sorry?"

"I got shot by a ghost."

"Yeah, you said that already. What I meant to say was, what the fuck?"

Melanie looks delighted to have his attention. She reaches down and rolls her sock to her ankle, revealing a garish red scar screaming across her leg. "London's full of ghosts, if you hadn't noticed. They just love the chaos that's going on right now, always wandering all over the place when the streets are empty and everyone's hidden in their shelters."

"I'm guessing you're not one for shelters," Martin says dryly, attempting to smother the sheer confusion and excitement doing battle in his brain.

"Of course not," Melanie scoffs. "They won't let me enlist because I'm a girl, but, I mean, have you seen some of the boys in charge of Finchley's bomb clearance?"

"A lot of them were in the year above me at school," Martin nods. He could say far more bitter things, but he keeps his mouth shut.

"They're kids, just like us," Melanie nods, a furious look in her eyes. "I wouldn't trust them to protect me from a particularly vicious duck, let alone the end of days raining from the sky."

Martin grins in agreement. Despite initial perceptions, he's starting to like Melanie a lot.

A shame they'll only get to know each other for this one train ride, likely never to hear from each other again. Unless Melanie does actually become famous for photographing ghosts, and he becomes famous for his poetry, and maybe they'll meet at a gala sixty years from now and not recognise each other at all.

Martin mentally kicks himself out of that particular spiral. He's always had a problem with melancholy, and the world being on fire has hardly done anything to improve him.

He's convinced it's what makes him a good poet.

"Hey," he says, to distract himself. "Where are you being sent to?"

"Some professor," Melanie shrugs. "Probably a stuffy old bat who'll put you to work if she finds a single fingerprint in the dust. Academics are all the same, from what I've seen."

Martin looks down at his own tag, brown paper tied with fraying string, looped around his neck by a disinterested attendant at the posting office. He hasn't actually had the nerve to read the name yet.

His heart picks up. "Melanie... it's not Professor Gertrude Robinson, is it?"

~/~/~/~/~

"...But Patroclus called to his comrades with a loud shout: “Myrmidons, ye comrades of Achilles, son of Peleus, be men, my friends, and bethink you of furious valour, to the end that we may win honour for the son of Peleus, that is far the best of the Argives by the ships, himself and his squires that fight in close combat; and that the son of Atreus, wide-ruling Agamemnon, may know his blindness in that he honoured not at all the best of the Achaeans-"

"Achilles is such an idiot," Basira interrupts, rolling her eyes and flipping the coin in her palm in absent, distracted movements.

Jon raises an eyebrow and lowers the book. "I can stop, if you'd prefer."

"No, no, you're okay. You've got a surprisingly good voice for this stuff. I'm glad you suggested it."

They've been taking turns reading aloud, switching out every few pages to pass the time, since Jon has no books of his own. But Basira seems to have quickly decided that Jon is a born narrator and delegated all further reading to him.

He's been glowing faintly from the praise ever since.

The journey has flown by - as time often does when Jon's hyperfixations make an appearance - but for once he doesn't feel guilty about indulging it. Basira seems just as fascinated, somehow, and he greatly enjoys her interruptions.

"You don't think Achilles is an idiot?" she asks, crossing her legs and leaning forward intently.

"No, I definitely do- he sends his boyfriend out to fight a war he isn't prepared for just because of a grudge and then throws a tantrum when that hubris gets him killed. He's definitely an idiot."

"Oh good," Basira says, visibly relieved. "For a moment there I thought we were going to have to argue."

Jon laughs, and the sound comes easier than it has in a while. This realisation crawls under his skin, cutting the sound short. He looks out of the window for some semblance of escape-

"Hey! Look!" He points out at the approaching train station, a quaint thing, barely more than a slab of stone emerging from a field. But the sign, rusted as it is, reads the same as the looping handwriting on the label around his neck does.

"Oh joy," Basira sighs. "Countryside air and a new family who'll probably hate me."

"Where are you being sent?" Jon asks, more hopeful than he's willing to admit. "Maybe we'll be neighbours."

"The household of Professor Gertrude Robinson," she reads from her own label.

"So am I!" Jon's heart leaps high in his chest despite himself. "You know, if we're with a professor, she might- I mean, she probably isn't a rough work kind of person- so maybe... this won't be so awful after all?"

Of course, Jon has always had a habit of speaking too soon.

~/~/~/~/~

Gathering Melanie's discarded belongings is a predictably chaotic affair, but she executes it with the practiced air of someone who lives that way every day.

Martin can't decide whether he's excited or dreading living with this girl.

As soon as they sprawl out onto the platform with seconds to spare, Martin realises that Melanie's mess is the least of his worries.

Because perched on the station's only bench, face knitted into his iconic perpetual frown, eyes squinting against the sun, is Jonathan fucking Sims.

Next to his suitcase, and wearing a knitted jumper several sizes too big, he looks tiny. The tall hijabi girl standing on top of the bench, looking searchingly into the distant fields, only serves to exaggerate this.

Melanie notices the sudden drain in his skin immediately, and follows his gaze. "For fucks sake."

"You know him?" Martin asks faintly, resisting the urge to brush his hands through his hair, or smooth his clothes. Jon doesn't care what he looks like, doesn't care about him. He should've learnt back in primary school that being rivals isn't something to be romanticised.

But his heart doesn't seem to get the message as a stray gust of wind dances in Jon's dark hair, and it skips a beat.

"Do I know Jonathan fucking Sims?" Melanie grits out, heaving her suitcase roughly over one shoulder. "That guy is such a wanker. 'Ghosts are for idiots, Melanie. Just a romantic ideal made up by delusional people afraid of the dark.'"

"He's not that bad," Martin begins to protest before he can stop himself, "he's just been through a lot."

"Doesn't excuse him being a dick," Melanie grumbles. "Not to mention he used to date my girlfriend. Always having a disaster and blazing back into her life. What I wouldn't give for five minutes one on one, I'd teach him..."

Melanie goes on muttering under her breath, but Martin barely hears, because Jon has just met his eyes and nothing else in the world matters. There's surprise, then panic, before his expression settles back into a frown.

Martin sighs. It's not as if he should've expected anything else.

"Come on," he says to Melanie, picking up his suitcase. "We'd better get it over with."

The walk to close their distance seems to take hours, and somehow no time at all.

"Martin," Jon greets him with a clipped, emotionless tone.

"Hey, Jon," Martin smiles, refusing to let the other boy's walls get him down. "And you are?"

"Basira," the girl nods, still standing high above them and glancing distractedly towards the dirt path, likely looking for whoever will be along to pick up evacuees. "I guess you guys already know each other?"

"They go to school together," Melanie brushes off the explanation, before introducing herself, too. "Now we're all acquainted, how long before we never have to see each other again?"

Basira's eyes flick silently between the three of them, clearly noting the tension, but saying nothing.

"We're in the same house," Jon says stiffly. "I don't know about you two. I'm sure there are other benches you can loiter at."

"Well we're in the same house," Melanie shoots back, linking her arm with Martin and holding tight. She's a lot stronger than she looks.

An awful thought dawns on Martin, quickly encompassing and eclipsing anything else. "Where..." he swallows around his dry throat, "who are you guys with?"

Martin watches as Jon's eyes widen. Glance down at his own label, across at theirs, and back.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Martin wants to burrow into the ground and hide somewhere his blushing cheeks could never be seen. He shouldn't be surprised, really. This summer was already looking down, being far from London, living with strangers, adjusting to pretending to be whatever fit in most.

Living with the crush who hates his guts is somehow the only escalation that makes sense.

#the magnus archives #fanfiction #jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #narnia au #own work #morgan writes

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hazygrains · 4 years ago

Photo

Events & Whatnot

And I’m back with another update. It has been 3 months since my last update, and I’m lazy af to post anything. In those few months that I’ve been neglecting this blog, good things have happened – thus, this post because I don’t want to forget about these events. Yes, we are still stuck at home due to this pandemic, but the good thing though was we get to go out sometimes to visit our families and friends. I’ll just list down the things that have happened since I suck at summarizing things in paragraphs. Here we go:

Aug 3 - My mum’s birthday! It was so nice because we cooked and ordered tons of food, and we got to be complete again. Finally got to use my instax cam again. Been itching to shoot!

Aug 23 - Got our mid-tier PC! Thanks to the 2 projects I got, I was able to buy something like this. We had someone with connections buy all the parts and build it since it was really hard to find parts for our desired build. Thank You, Lord, for the blessings.

Aug 29 - Kaye spent the weekend with us! It was supposedly just the two of us here at home, but Asis’ plan didn’t push through, so he got stuck with us girls. We spent our time playing Valorant, eating, taking photos, eating, catching up, and yes, eating. I missed that marupok!

Sep 19 - Kaye and I registered to vote. I also spent my weekend at her place, and we basically did the same thing we did when she went to our place. We will never get tired of eating and making fun of each other.

Oct 4 - Spent Asis’ birthday with his family, and I ordered this delicious yummy Mango shortcake at Sainte Anne Cakes Manila, and it was gone in just a few hours. Can’t wait to try their Strawberry shortcake!

Oct 10 - My niece’s 1st birthday celebration and christening

Oct 11 - Got our customized work tables! We had a hard time looking for nice and cheap tables, so we decided to have them done by sir Donjie. Asis stumbled upon him on Facebook last year. He was also the one who made Asis’ first work table, so yeah, we just gave him the desired measurements and a reference photo of the color we wanted, and voila, he did it! Really happy with the result.

Oct 17 - A day getaway in Antipolo with my high school friends – Kaye, Tamtam, and Beni. We just went there for a change of scenery. We went to Pinto Art Museum and caught up with each other’s lives in Cafe Rizal, ate at Yellowcab, and at this resto-bar that has an overlooking view of the Metro. We went back after watching the sunset, and Kaye and I decided to kill time again at CBTL, UP Town Center.

Other stuff:

Subscribed to Cinemalaya’s premium bundle. Got to see tons of great short films and documentaries in the comfort of our home. But yes, I still want to experience Cinemalaya in CCP when this corona-shit is over. And here are my top 5 faves (in no particular order): THE SLUMS, QUING LALAM NING ALDO (UNDER THE SUN), Igib, Mata, and Gulis (Lines)

Hoarded more 35mm films, and I probably won’t use them anytime soon anyway. I also have 2 used film rolls that I will send to the lab later.

I bought a menstrual cup because I wanted to make the switch. I want to save money and reduce waste, but I had a hard time putting it in. I’ll just keep trying again next time until I get it right. TMI

I started buying stoneware mugs and cups. I bought my first stoneware mug in August, and now I can’t stop buying and searching for more mugs! I actually buy stuff from the actual potters/ceramists/ceramicists (I really don’t know what to call them) and not just from sellers that got their goods from Japan surplus. So far, I got 14 mugs/cups and 1 drip coffee cone. And I still have 3 more mugs coming in November. I should start looking for a nice shelf for my babies.

Still supporting small online businesses. Been buying and trying out their goods. Also, the reason why I’ve been gaining weight! Look how huge my face is! (≧◡≦) And I also bought a starter pottery kit. I got it in August, and I’m finally planning on using it tomorrow. Can’t wait to make our own mugs!

Got another Psoriasis flare-up due to the weather, I guess, and of course, stress. Isn’t it ironic how stress causes flare-ups but having Psor stresses the shit out of me? Ah, stress.

I’m also planning on cleaning up this blog. Will revamp once I’m feeling productive. (⁀ᗢ⁀)

So yep, I’ll just edit this post once I get the results of my rolls. Btw, all photos are taken using instax, and I just scanned and cropped them. Okay, laters! x

#personal #event

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willow-salix · 4 years ago

Text

Isolation update and one of two planned offerings for @gumnut-logic 's "Touch" prompt. Enjoy!

Day 80 of Isolation on Tracy Island and it started with Alan breaking into the bedroom while we were still asleep. I woke to him rummaging around in the bedside drawer.

“Dude? Whatcha doin’?” I mumbled, it was far too early, I was far too snuggly warm and getting up was in no way on my radar for at least another few hours.

“Oh, I just wanted to borrow your contact lens solution.”

“Huh?” I groaned, having kinda half dozed off again while he had continued to search through the drawer. “What lens solution?”

“That stuff you got with those coloured lenses you wore at halloween.”

I prised one eye open again and poked the sleepy hamster in my brain that had fallen off the wheel and was far too lazy to get up again.

“Oh...that…” where was it? Where did I even put it? I tried to mentally rewind more than eight months… it wasn't easy. Hell, without this diary I wouldn’t even know what day of the week we were on or what I did two days ago…come to think of it, what did I do two days ago?

Fingers snapped in front of my face, making me jump.

“Did you drift?”

“Yeah, sorry...lens stuff...it’s in the…” where was it? I could picture it…”drinks cabinet in the lounge!” I finished triumphantly, that was it. We’d had a small party and I’d taken the lenses out half way through as they had made my eyes itch and I’d stashed them in the first place I had come across, which just so happened to be the place where I was returning to the most that night. I blame Scott, I always blame Scott, if there is ever a drinking game happening or karaoke is started, he’ll be there.

“Alan, I…where did he go?” The drawer was still open and the bedroom door was ajar, but at least it was quiet again. I yawned so wide I almost turned my face inside out and curled back up against the warm body next to me and closed my eyes…

Coffee...I smell...delicious black gold...I sat up a little without even opening my eyes and reached for the mug, taking a sip before I felt able to face the world.

Perfect. Milky, silky, smooth, sweet perfection in a mug. I opened my eyes to see that he'd put it in one of my favourite mugs, the black one shaped like a cauldron that said "witch's brew" on the side. The paleness of the milky latte was broken up by a swirl of coffee and caramel syrup that floated peacefully on the surface like a miniature galaxy. Top ten reason to marry a guy, he makes the most amazing coffee, even if he doesn't do it very often.

“Gods that's good, thank you, I so needed this.” I sipped again then put the mug down on the bedside table, I wanted to savour this...why was that drawer open and all my stuff messed up? Not that I was the tidiest person in the world but I know it wasn't that bad. My sluggish brain managed to kick up an image of the blond baby… “Did I dream Alan coming in at stupid o’clock this morning looking for something?”

“Hmm?” John stopped rummaging in the wardrobe to look at me. “I don’t know, I don’t remember anything after we started watching that film with the puppets in it.”

“They are Muppets, you heathen and I have no idea how you could fall asleep watching that, it’s amazing.”

“Because it was after two and I was tired?”

“Pathetic excuse. Anyway, back to the original question, did I dream Alan? What did he want?”

“Again, I don’t know, you’ll have to find him and ask.”

“Mm,” I agreed, picking up my coffee again. “I’ll go in a minute, it can’t be that urgent.”

An hour later I was actually up, showered, dressed and had even had breakfast, that’s how organized I was. OK, so it was technically after lunchtime but that's beside the point. I tracked the small one down to Virgil’s studio, which is never, ever a good thing. No one is allowed in there without permission on pain of death. I caught him just as he came out with a bottle of glue in his hands.

“What are you up to, Squirt?”

“Nothing!” Unfortunately he said that at the same time as he hastily tucked the glue behind his back.

“Nope, not falling for it. What’s going on?"

"Nothing!" he insisted again.

"I can see you hiding something behind your back."

“OK,” he sighed. “ But promise you won’t get mad?”

“What did you break? Because that’s only craft glue for paper, it won't fix broken things.”

“I know that! And I didn’t break anything, you always think the worst of me.”

“Sweetie, I don’t think that, I just know you.”

He opened his mouth to argue but then shut it again.

“OK, that’s fair," he admitted

“So why would I get mad if you didn’t break anything? Not that I’d get mad if you had broken anything as I’m sure it would have been an accident.”

“Thank you for your faith in me.”

“So, what are you doing?”

“Well, I was bored-”

“Understandable.”

“And I started looking around the internet and I kinda fell into a search hole-”

“Also understandable, I’ve been there myself far too many times to count.”

“Anyways, I found this post about things that kids did in the early two thousands and one of them was to make slime. Apparently everyone was obsessed with it.”

“Really? Slime?” I found that quite hard to believe.

“Yeah, there were even whole video channels dedicated to making it and playing with it.”

“People actually wanted to watch videos of people playing with slime? That’s disgusting.”

“No, it’s not like, super sticky slime, but more of a cool slime.”

“That makes zero sense, little dude.”

“I don’t understand it either, but it seemed too cool to not at least try, you know?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I get that, I’ve done many things that seemed too cool not to.”

“Really? Like what?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“It’s not anything gross with my brother, is it?”

I gave him that look that says all and nothing, it’s always fun to keep them wondering just what the heck I even meant, the puzzlement on their faces is priceless.

“Wanna make slime with me?”

“Sure,” I shrugged. “How bad can it be?”

***

“So you pour the glue in the bowl,” Alan instructed.

“Done that, what's next?”

“Then you add a… what does that symbol mean?”

I glanced at his phone. “Tablespoon.”

“One tablespoon of baking soda.” We both dumped that in the glue.

“A couple of drops of food colouring.” We both added green, him because he wanted to make fake snot, me because I wanted it to look like Slimer had been visiting.

“Now we add one or two tablespoons of the contact lens solution and mix.”

“Better add just one first,” I suggested, “if it’s anything like baking it's always better to start with less and add more.”

“Yeah, it says the more you add the sloppier it gets.”

We dumped in a spoonful each and mixed...and mixed...and mixed. I added a little more but wanted more of a thick consistency, he added a whole tablespoon more as he wanted ‘the whole slime experience’.

“No we have to knead it,” he instructed me.

“O...K” I didn't like the sound of that. I thought I'd just be mixing, not getting my hands in it. I poked the goo with a finger. “It’s cold!”

Alan, being Alan, just dived right in, sticking both hands in the bowl.

“Coool,” he grinned, squishing the gooey mixture so that it oozed out from between his fingers. “This is so weird.”

I was a little more delicate. I pushed my finger in knuckle deep and felt around. I don’t know what for or what I hoped to achieve. It was like poking barely set jelly, it left a bit of a dent and closed over my finger like it was sucking it in. “Ewwww.”

“This is great!”

“I don’t like it.” I wiggled my finger around in the slop then withdrew it, feeling the stringy strands stick to my skin. “Ewwww.”

“I love it!”

“You would, you gross little munchkin.”

“You gotta get your whole hand in there, don’t be shy.” He slapped his sticky hand down on top of mine, smaming it into the ick. I screamed. It was disgusting.

“You horrible little worm!”

“Wiggle your fingers!”

“No!”

“Do it!”

“No!”

“Dare you.”

“Dammit.” I wiggled and shuddered in revulsion. “It’s horrible.”

Alan was kneading his like he was making bread, putting in far more effort than he had that time we made pizza dough. I glanced into his bowl and yes, it was looking far better than mine was.

“Urghh I’m gonna have to do it, aren't I?” I took a deep breath and stuck both hands into the bowl. “Yuck, yuck yuck, yuck, yuck,” I chanted as I smacked and punched at the mess. Slowly but surely, it came together, becoming far less sticky and turning into a silky smooth substance that, I hated to admit, was actually quite satisfying to play with.

“You’re having fun, aren't you?” Alan grinned.

“I admit nothing,” I sniffed, though he was right and he knew it. I picked up the mess and pushed the bowl aside.

If he was treating it like dough, so would I. I dumped it on the counter and began to knuckle it, pulling and stretching with my hands, just as I would to add air to bread. Suddenly seized by the unholy urge to whip I, I grabbed hold of one end and flung my hand back, whipping it forwards to stretch out the slime and splat against the counter. OK, that was actually pretty cool.

“I wonder if this bounces?” I balled it up again and dropped it onto the counter top where it landed with a wet splat, flattening into a puddle.

“Coooool,” Alan whistled, doing the same to his, although his was a lot sloppier and spread across the counter. Mine looked more like a fried egg, his was like spilt juice.

“Oops,” he tried to pick it up but it was far too slippery, sliding between his fingers and plopping out of his hand.

I helped by grabbing a spatula from the utensils pot and trying to pick it up like it was a pancake. It didn't work. Strings of goo slid between the slats of the spatula and dripped downwards.

“Grab the bowl!” I yelped and he held it underneath to catch the run off. I scraped the spatula against the side of the bowl and peeled the last, stubborn bits off and flicked them into the bowl along with the rest.

“What are we actually going to do with this stuff?” I asked him.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve got plans,” he grinned.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” I groaned. “Just please, keep me and John out of it, he doesn’t need the extra stress, he already has to put up with me.”

***

I was sensible with my weird goo, I added a few drops of essential oil having found, much to my amazement, that it actually was quite relaxing to squish it and play with it. I found myself taking it out of it’s tub frequently that evening while we watched a movie, smoothing out the cool jelly, kneading it in my palm and squeezing it until it smushed in between my fingers. The soothing scent of lavender wafting up to fill my nose.

“OK,” John said after watching me for quarter of an hour. “I’ll bite, what do you have there?”

“Slime, I made it with Alan,” I held out my hand and dropped the ball of eww into his palm.

The look of disgust on his face was everything.

“Squish it,” I instructed.

“Squish it?”

“Yeah, like this,” I plonked my hand down on top of his and mashed the goo between our fingers.

“That is the most revolting thing I’ve ever felt in my life.”

I pulled my hand away from his, the slime clinging desperately for a few seconds, stretching between our hands before it gave way and boinged back into one mass in his palm.

"I don't like it," he poked it with one finger.

“It’s not that bad, it’s actually quite ni-”

A pained yelp and then a bellow that sounded like an enraged bull echoed around the villa.

“That sounded like Scott,” I gasped, sitting up.

Scott skidded into the lounge, face like thunder, naked apart from a towel wrapped around his waist.

“What the hell happened?” I asked in shock. “What happened to your head?” I got up to look closer, seeing that a red bump was rapidly forming between his eyebrows.

“I was going to take a shower, but no water came out. I turned the water up higher and something green oozed out of the holes and then the whole shower head popped off and clonked me on the head.”

I bit my lip, trying hard not to laugh.

“What do you have there?” Scotts eyes narrowed, zeroing in on John’s hand where he still held the slime.

“Run!” I yelped and John, pulling on his old track and field days, leapt off the couch and ran for the door, grabbing my hand as he went and towing me after him. It was safer to hide in the bedroom.

Apparently Scott wasn’t the only victim of the slime pranks. Alan had gotten rather creative. He had sneezed goo on Gordon and had mixed up a new batch that included peas and chopped up carrots and was a lovely yellow colour which he had dropped on the floor of Two’s cockpit at Virgil’s feet after making a series of increasingly violent retching noises. Jeff has yet to discover that there is blue slime in the soap dispenser in his bathroom. I dread to think where else it’s going to turn up. But what I do know is that Alan had better avoid Scott for the next few days, because that’s going to leave a bruise.

#alan tracy #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #isolation island #social isolation #isolation #self isolating #thunderbirds in isolation

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