#this isn’t an interview it’s coffee and a chat

[vers-1]

OH NO OH NO IM FREAKING OUT

I’m afraid someone help me

[pucksandpower]

Newsflash

Charles Leclerc x reporter!Reader

Summary: after two years as a paddock correspondent, you’re convinced that Charles Leclerc hates your guts for no apparent reason … but maybe everything is not what it seems

“Wake up, Y/N. It’s race day!”

Your colleague, Natalie, bursts into your hotel room without knocking, as usual. You groan and pull the covers over your head, not ready to face the chaos that is sure to ensue in the paddock.

“Come on, sleepyhead! We have to be at the track by seven this morning for pre-race meetings,” Natalie says, yanking the duvet off you.

“Alright, alright, I’m up!” You grumble, slowly swinging your legs over the side of the bed. “What time is it anyway?”

“5:30. Which reminds me, I need coffee,” Natalie says, already headed for the door. “Meet me in the lobby in 20!”

You spend the next 19 minutes hastily getting ready — putting on minimal makeup, throwing on your favorite jumpsuit, and frantically gathering up notes and gear for the day. You take one last glance in the mirror, trying to smooth down your bedhead, before resigning to just throw a cap on over the mess.

Hustling down to the lobby, there’s a rush of personnel all around — mechanics, engineers, PR reps, and media darting about with coffees and laptops and headsets already in place. You spot Natalie nursing a large black coffee and beeline over.

“Ready to do this?” She asks with a grin.

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply with a shrug. The truth is, the nerves are already bubbling up in your stomach. You love your job as an F1 reporter for Sky Sports, but the pressure and scrutiny is immense.

The two of you pile into a car with the rest of the broadcast crew and head to the track. On the ride, you glance over your meticulous notes on the teams and drivers one more time, paying special attention to Ferrari.

Ever since you started covering F1 two years ago, one driver has basically refused to give you the time of day — Charles Leclerc.

For some reason, whenever you are around, he bolts in the opposite direction. When you have attempted interviews, he literally turns and speedwalks away without a word. Other drivers will chat with you, joke around, and give thoughtful answers to questions.

But Charles? Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

You can’t figure out why he hates you so much. You’ve scoured your past comments and coverage looking for anything that could have offended him, but come up empty.

Is it something personal against you? Were you mean to him in a past life or something? It hurts, to be honest. You try to stay professional, but his obvious disdain for you still stings.

Sighing, you put your notes away as the car pulls into the paddock. It’s going to be a long day.

After hair, makeup, mic checks, and a final meeting, it’s nearly time for the broadcast to go live as cars start lining up on the grid. Nerves buzzing, you watch Charles warm up with his performance coach across the pit lane, headphones in and clearly in the zone. As always, he walks right past you without a flicker of acknowledgment.

Your heart twinges, but you swiftly push the hurt aside. It’s showtime.

The next few hours are a blur of rushed interviews, sound bites, stats flashing across screens, and organized chaos. After the race finally ends, there are more interviews, podium ceremonies, and press conferences to wade through before you can take a breath.

“Man, that was brutal!” Natalie huffs as the two of you finally plop down in chairs in the media room later that afternoon. She cracks open a Red Bull and takes a long drink. “You hanging in there?”

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you reply half-heartedly. The truth is, you’re drained — physically and mentally. And of course, the interaction with Charles, or lack thereof, is weighing heavy.

“Why do you let that pompous twerp get under your skin so much?” Natalie says with a frown, seeming to read your mind. “He’s a rude, stuck up jerk who isn’t worth the energy. Forget about him.”

You shake your head with a sigh. “You’re right, you’re right. I just … I don’t know, I never did anything to the guy, and it still stings.”

Just then, the door to the media room swings open, and Charles himself strides in. You inadvertently tense up as he approaches the couch, looking calm and confident in his usual Ferrari polo, and folds himself down between Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton, who rounded out the rest of the podium.

Here we go again, you think with an internal eye roll. Just gotta get this over with.

“Hello,” Charles says with an easy grin as he settles into his seat, “What have you got for us today?” Various reporters immediately start firing off questions, undoubtedly looking to get a headline from the race winner.

You gather your courage, take a breath, and call out “Charles, Y/N with Sky Sports here. Can you walk me through your thought process behind that daring pass on Lando in Turn 12?”

To your shock, the second Charles hears your voice, his whole demeanor shifts. He seems to freeze, shoulders hunching slightly, grin dropping from his face as his cheeks instantly flush deep red. He looks panicked almost, eyes darting around the room, before landing briefly on you.

“Uhh … b-bathroom. Need to go. Bye.”

And with that, he leaps up from the couch and practically sprints out of the room.

A stunned silence falls over the space as everyone stares, stunned, at the empty space he left. You feel your stomach drop through the floor, tears of embarrassment and humiliation prickling at your eyes.

What did you do wrong? Now he’s made a total spectacle, running away from you in front of your peers. Mortified, you shakily stand up, chair clanging backwards, and rush from the room as well. Needing air, you bolt outside until you find a secluded spot out back of the paddock, leaning against a wall as the tears flow freely.

“Hey, hey … what’s going on? Are you okay?”

The soft, concerned male voice startles you, and you gasp looking up. There stands Charles, looking alarmed and guilty.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out like that. Please don’t cry!” He moves closer, though still keeps his distance.

You blink rapidly, beyond confused. “What … what are you doing out here? I’m clearly the last person you want to be around.”

He sighs heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is really hard for me to admit but … I like you. As in, I have the biggest crush on you. That’s why I get so flustered and basically black out anytime you talk to me. It’s pathetic, I know.”

Your jaw actually drops open in disbelief. “You … what? You like me? Is this a joke?”

“No! No, I swear, it’s the truth,” he says, face turning red again. “I know I come across like a total jerk, I just freeze up around you because honestly? You’re just so stunning and brilliant, and I get unbelievably shy and nervous. The words won’t come out. It’s like an out of body experience! I chicken out and run away like an idiot every time.”

You stare at him, trying to process this. All this time, all the hurt and embarrassment … it was just because he developed a crush?

“I’m so sorry for how I’ve treated you. I know it must seem like I despise you. The truth is, you make me feel like a stuttering teenager with my first crush again,” Charles continues, looking at you beseechingly. “I understand if you think I’m a total tool, and I have a lot of work to do to make this up to you. But I swear, I really do like you, Y/N.”

At this, his face splits into a sheepish grin, eyes twinkling with mirth. You feel a laugh bubble up in your chest as relief washes over you.

He doesn’t hate you. In fact, it’s quite the opposite! You appraise him, really looking at him for the first time. From his twinkling green eyes to his adorable dimples to the lock of chestnut hair falling across his forehead, he’s unbelievably charming.

You shake your head, smile growing. “So this whole time, you’ve just been acting like an awkward schoolboy instead of giving me any indication of your true feelings?”

Charles laughs self-consciously. “Embarrassing, I know. Look, I promise I’ll do better-”

“Yeah, you’ve got a lot to make up for,” you say, crossing your arms and giving Charles a playful but pointed look. “All the grief and heartache you’ve put me through the last two years? This calls for serious groveling, mister.”

Charles immediately drops to one knee dramatically. “Y/N Y/L/N, light of my life, apple of my eye. I am but a humble driver, unworthy of your affection. But if you would do me the extraordinary honor of allowing me to court you properly, I vow to spend every day showing you how enchanted I am by your wit, your beauty, and your strength.”

You can’t help but giggle at his over-the-top chivalrous display. “Oh get up, you goofball!” You grab his hand and pull him back to his feet. “I’m just teasing. Well, partially teasing. I do expect you to apologize to me properly. Take me to dinner or something.”

Charles visibly brightens. “Dinner? Really? Yes, absolutely! In fact, let me take you right now. We’ll go to that little trattoria down the road. You deserve to be wined and dined for putting up with me.”

You consider this for a moment, taking in his eager, handsome face. The truth is, despite his past behavior, you find yourself captivated by Charles now that you understand what was really going on. His confidence, talent, and intensity are wildly attractive. And the way he’s looking at you now, with softness and admiration in his eyes .... it sends tingles down your spine.

“Alright, lead the way, hot shot,” you say with a wink.

Charles’ grin stretches even wider, if possible. “After you,” he gestures forward with a flourish, then falls into step beside you as you head towards the exit.

“I really am sorry for being such an idiot around you,” Charles says quietly after a moment of walking in comfortable silence. “The way I’ve acted was totally unacceptable. You deserve so much better.”

You glance over at his earnest expression and feel a little pang in your chest. “It’s okay, really. I get it now. Just think how close we could have been this whole time though if you’d just … I don’t know, talked to me like a normal human being!”

Charles chuckles ruefully. “Oof, so true. Honestly, I’m impressed you didn’t write me off ages ago as a complete lost cause. Clearly you’re far more patient and forgiving than I deserve.”

“Yes, I really am,” you agree teasingly, giving his arm a playful shove. You both laugh as you reach the paddock exit and emerge out onto the bustling street, taking in the energy of the crowd.

You jokingly elbow Charles’ side. “Still though, as dashingly handsome as you may be, don’t think you’re completely off the hook! I expect to be wooed and romanced properly going forward. No more running off scared like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“It’s a deal,” Charles says easily, looking thrilled. “Romance and wooing, coming right up.”

Reaching the charming little restaurant, Charles opens the door for you with a sweeping bow. You grin and step inside. Somehow, you have the feeling this is going to be the start of a wonderful evening.

No more misunderstandings. Just the two of you, getting to know each other properly over a delicious meal with the slight chill of the evening settling in around you.

And you can’t wait.

***

The next few race weekends are a whirlwind as Charles seems to do a complete 180 in his behavior towards you.

Gone is the shy, nervous wreck who could barely look you in the eye. Instead, he goes full-steam in the opposite direction, seeking you out constantly and showering you with attention.

It starts the following week after Friday practice. You’re standing in the paddock scribbling notes when you sense someone approaching. Looking up, you see Charles striding over, helmet in hand, usual calm confidence exuding from him.

“Ah, Y/N, just the reporter I was looking for,” he says with a warm grin, sidling up beside you. “Walk with me?”

Flustered by his forwardness but flattered, you quickly nod. “Uh, sure!”

Charles immediately links his arm casually through yours and starts leading you away down the paddock, journalists and crew members glancing over with raised eyebrows. You catch Natalie’s eye and she mouths “WTF?” at you with a stunned look. You just give a tiny shrug, feeling your face heat up.

“So tell me, what did you think of my lap times today?” Charles asks once you’re a few paces away from the crowd.

You blink, surprised he’s looking for actual feedback. You decide to give an honest assessment. “Well, I think you were sliding the rear end quite a bit too much through Sector 2 and losing time. The car didn’t look fully settled-”

“Brilliant analysis as always, Y/N. I knew I could count on you to give it to me straight,” Charles interrupts with a respectful nod. You feel yourself preen slightly at his praise. “Some changes to differential settings should sort that out, I think.”

He then launches into a surprisingly technical explanation of his plans to adjust the setup. You find yourself nodding along, captivated, as he outlines the various weight transfer issues and how he aims to mitigate them.

He’s speaking to you like a true engineer, not just a reporter. You realize with a jolt that he’s never gone into this level of detail with you before in any interviews.

“Sorry, I’m rambling a bit here, aren’t I?” Charles says sheepishly when he pauses. “I don’t want to bore you with too much technical detail. But you just have such a good eye and ask such insightful questions, I find myself wanting to really dive into this side of racing with you.”

He gives your arm a soft squeeze. “Anyway, let me know if you have any other observations or advice. I trust your analysis completely.”

Before you can properly respond, the two of you round a corner only to nearly walk directly into Sergio Perez, who’s heading the opposite direction. He does a comical double take at seeing the two of you arm-in-arm together.

“Ah, hello Checo!” Charles says breezily, not releasing you or missing a beat. Sergio looks hilariously confused.

“Uh … hello?” is all he manages before Charles is steering you onwards.

“See you around, mate,” he tosses over his shoulder with a wink.

You glance back to see Sergio frozen in place, staring after you both looking utterly bewildered.

The weekend continues in this vein, with Charles constantly pulling you aside to chat at length about setups, strategies, even asking your opinion on development directions for next year’s car.

He treats you with the utmost seriousness and respect, like you’re one of his most trusted advisors. It’s shocking and flattering after the cold-shoulder treatment for so long.

Whenever the broadcast crew has a break, Charles inevitably finds you and whisks you off to look at telemetry data together (which sends a poor PR officer chasing after the two of you with an NDA after the first time Charles decides to pull you into the garage) or watch video, going into painstaking detail to get your thoughts.

By Sunday, it’s become a bit of a running joke among the team, with people exchanging amused glances whenever Charles appears to disappear with you once again.

“There goes Loverboy Sharl, dragging poor Y/N off yet again to pore over spreadsheets and onboard footage,” Natalie jokes with an eye roll during a break, making the crew laugh. “How does that man ever find time to, you know, actually race?”

You shoot her a heatless glare, though you have to admit — as sweet as it is having Charles’ undivided attention, as a reporter the over-accessibility is becoming a touch much.

When the race concludes later that afternoon, Charles immediately finds you amid the chaos of the media scrum.

“Y/N!” He beams down at you, still sweaty and in his racing suit with the top half unzipped. “Come take a look at the race data with me? I want to walk through my lap times and tire deg, see if we can spot any areas to improve ...”

“Actually, I’m sort of totally swamped right now,” you gesture at the sea of people around you. “But maybe later?”

His face falls slightly. “Oh. Well I suppose I did already monopolize a lot of your time this weekend. No rest for the media?”

He gives you a lopsided smile but there’s a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. You feel a little stab of guilt.

“Tell you what though,” he continues, brightening again. “Come find me later before we fly out. I’ll have a surprise waiting for you.”

“A surprise?” You ask with a raised brow. “What does that mean?”

“Ah ah ah, no hints!” Charles laughs, wagging a finger. “Just trust me. Don’t leave without seeing me first, okay?”

With that, he leans in and unexpectedly gives you a swift peck on the cheek. You freeze, eyes going wide, feeling your face flame. Pulling back, Charles winks cheekily at you before turning and sauntering off.

Dazed, you lift a hand to touch the spot he kissed, feeling the heat radiating from your cheek. Did he really just … right out in the open like that … with the cameras recording live?

Glancing around, you see Natalie and a few other crew members staring with mouths agape. Toto Wolff is even giving you an amused look as he walks past, one eyebrow arched knowingly. Utterly mortified, you duck your head down and hurry off to find a quiet corner to collect yourself.

The next race sees the flirting and PDA ramp up even higher. Charles can’t seem to resist finding any excuse to drape an arm around your waist, stroke your arm, or playfully tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Every interaction has an undercurrent of flirtation and innuendo. And the cheek kisses become almost routine, pressed on you in front of other drivers, team bosses, cameramen, you name it.

“I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” You finally say in flustered exasperation after he ambushes you with a very public, lingering kiss on the cheek in the paddock one day. You struggle to sound annoyed, but a pleased grin tugs at the corners of your mouth as you say it.

“Sorry, ma chérie, I just can’t seem to resist around you,” Charles replies, absolutely zero shame in his voice or demeanor. “You’re lucky I have more self-control than to start making out right here in front of everyone!”

You gasp and slap his arm, scandalized, as he just throws his head back and laughs heartily.

Meanwhile, the double-takes and stunned looks from everyone around just keep coming. Even the normally straight-faced Fred Vasseur can’t seem to hold back smug grins whenever he sees the two of you getting cozy.

“Go on and get a room already, you two!” He finally chuckles one day as Charles passes by in the paddock with his usual arm draped around your waist.

“Don’t tempt me!” Charles quips back without missing a beat, giving you a roguish wink.

Soon, literally everyone in the paddock and broadcast team is aware of and commenting on the developing romance between you and Charles.

He makes no attempt to hide it whatsoever.

“Honestly, I think they’re the most nauseatingly adorable couple I’ve ever seen,” Jenson Button jokes to the rest of the broadcast team one evening as they all watch Charles throw his arm around you yet again and plant a smacking kiss on your temple.

“The honeymoon phase never ends with those two,” Natalie agrees in a wry tone, rolling her eyes. “It’s like they’re a pair of horny teenagers making out behind the bleachers.”

You just shake your head with a bashful smile and accept the good-natured ribbing. The truth is, despite Charles’ very public displays of affection causing some embarrassment and teasing from your colleagues, you find it hard to truly mind.

There’s an earnestness and joy in his demeanor whenever he’s with you that makes your heart swell. You’ve never seen him so openly happy and carefree as these past few weeks. Gone is the tightly wound, intense competitor. In his place is a warm, playful soul who can’t help but let his delight in your company shine through.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find his romantic attentions flattering and thrilling. The way his gaze smolders when his eyes meet yours, the tingle of electricity you feel whenever his hand brushes yours, the butterflies that erupt in your stomach when his lips graze your cheek — it all makes you deliriously giddy, like a lovesick teenager yourself.

So you endure the good-natured eye rolls from Natalie and jokes from the broadcast crew with an easy smile. Because the truth is, you’ve realized how deeply you’ve fallen for Charles in return.

“You’ve got me utterly love drunk, you charming fool,” you murmur against his chest one evening.

The two of you are tucked away in a quiet corner, Charles’ back against the wall with his arms wrapped around you as you stand embraced, soaking in a few stolen moments of intimacy together.

“The feeling is mutual,” Charles replies easily, resting his chin on your head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from this madness.” He pauses, absentmindedly stroking your back. “Honestly, I half expected you to get sick of me hanging around all the time by now.”

You pull back to meet his warm green eyes. “Are you kidding? I love having you around. I still have to pinch myself that you actually want to be with me after the way you treated me for so long!”

A flicker of regret passes across Charles’ features. “I truly am sorry for being such an ass before, Y/N. I hope with time you can forgive me.”

“Already forgiven,” you assure him softly. “We’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Relief blossoms on his face and he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Thank you, ma belle. For being the most patient and kind woman on earth.”

You grin, eyes fluttering closed as his breath tickles your skin. “Mmm, I wouldn’t go that far. But I guess I do possess some super-human tolerance for broody and aloof superstar drivers with commitment issues.”

Charles chuckles at that and you can feel the rumble of it against your body. “Lucky for me then, or I would still be utterly lost.”

His mouth finds yours then, soft and intoxicating. You melt into the kiss, savoring his warmth, his scent, the gentle stroke of his fingertips along your jaw. All semblance of poise escapes you when you’re pressed against Charles like this. He never fails to make your head spin and body thrum with want.

A polite cough from nearby causes you to break apart abruptly. You blink, dazed, to see Natalie standing with an eyebrow arched sky high.

“Hey lovebirds,” she says in a wry tone. “Sorry to disturb the sunset groping, but they’re calling for final broadcast checks in 10.”

Face flaming, you duck your head and extract yourself from Charles’ embrace. He just shoots Natalie a cheeky grin, entirely unabashed.

“Better get going then,” Charles says cheerfully, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “Wouldn’t want you to be late because of me … again.” He winks.

Natalie rolls her eyes hard. “Oh I’m sure that would be a first. See you in 10, Y/N.”

With that, she turns on her heel and heads back towards the pits. You glance up at Charles shyly.

“I should … uh ...” You gesture vaguely.

“Yes, yes of course,” Charles says, squeezing your hands affectionately. “Work calls. Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting around the next corner to steal more kisses as soon as you’re free.”

You laugh and give him a playful shove. “Go on then, you impossible man! I’ll see you in a bit.”

Heart fluttering, you watch him saunter off before heading for the pits yourself, still feeling delightfully dazed.

This is really your life now. Surrounded by racing, the thrill of competition, the roar of engines … and consumed by budding love every time Charles Leclerc is near.

As far as dream jobs go, you think with a lovestruck smile, you’ve really hit the jackpot.

[lightseoul]

endearment

synopsis. first, second, and third instances; it's official, there's something going on with bakugou and you're determined to find out.

cw. fem!reader, pro hero!katsuki, aged-up (26 yrs old), established relationship, a lot of cursing

word count. 1.9k words

The first time it happens, you don’t think too much about it.

“Bakugou,” you call out from where you’re snuggled on his corduroy sofa. “Can you pass me some tissue?”

From the bathroom, you could hear a faint ‘tch’.

The sound of house slippers colliding with the tiled floor grows louder and louder until he finally emerges with a roll in his hand, which he promptly tosses to you.

You catch it—barely—and grin when you feel the thickness of the 3-ply roll, no doubt a staple in Bakugou Katsuki’s pristine apartment unit.

Go figure.

He’s circling the coffee table and plopping down next to you when your phone rings.

Confused, you pick up your phone to see a picture of you and Kirishima from your last get-together—his caller ID. Curious, Bakugou peers over your shoulder, frowning upon seeing his other best friend’s name.

“Isn’t he on patrol right now with Midoriya?” you ask.

Bakugou shrugs. “Answer it.”

Humming an okay, you click the accept button.

“Hey, Y/N! Is Bakubro with you right now?

You eye Bakugou, who’s pretending to be disinterested and not at all eavesdropping. “Yeah. What’s up?”

Kirishima laughs, “Can you tell him to check our group chat? Limited edition All Might merch just dropped.”

At that, you chuckle. “Got this Ei. He’s actually just beside me right now. I’ll make sure to tell him. And tell Izuku I said hi.”

You can practically hear the smile on his face when he says: “Thanks, bro! You’re the best.”

With that, you press the end call button and turn slightly to regard Bakugou, who’s now staring at his hands on his knees, what looks like a scowl etched on his face.

You poke at his side, trying to be playful.

“Aren’t you curious about what he had to say?”

He shakes his head before standing up and heading—again—to the bathroom.

Huh.

The second time it happens, it leaves you and your friends bewildered.

“And so that’s how yesterday’s patrol ended up with me getting a special interview with TBS,” Mina says proudly.

You chuckle, amused. “That’s amazing, Mina.”

From where she’s seated beside you in the booth of your favorite bar, she grins. “Yeah, well I try!”

Kirishima, who’s sitting opposite the both of you, chimes in. “You have to tell Bakubro that story.”

“Where is he, anyway?” Mina asks.

You squint, looking through the glass windows of the bar. “I think he’s still searching for a parking space.”

At that, Mina cocks her head to the side in confusion. “But it’s been a while since you guys arrived?”

“Yeah…”

You pick up your phone, thumbing through the contacts until you arrive at the one marked with the red asterisk.

Emergency contact.

You’re in the middle of quickly typing out a where r u when Mina, the ever meddling Mina, peers over your shoulder unbeknownst to you.

“You named his contact…Bakugou?”

Attention divided between texting and talking with your friends, you retort lamely with: “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” Kirishima pipes up. “It’s just that couples usually save each other’s contacts as sweet pet names.”

Mina nods in agreement. “For example, I have Ei saved as baby, with a red heart.”

Before you can even defend yourself, let alone playfully gag at the nickname Mina has given Kirishima, Bakugou appears at your table, sitting down at the booth next to Kirishima and in front of you, uncharacteristically quiet.

When you lock eyes, you raise your eyebrows ever so slightly— denoting a question: everything okay?—but he doesn’t sustain eye contact.

Instead, he stands up again quite abruptly.

“Restroom,” he explains curtly, stuffing his hands in his pockets before walking away, leaving the three of you speechless.

The third time it happens, it happens in his childhood home.

You didn’t expect to meet his parents this early on in the relationship; you haven’t even been together for a year. Yet Bakugou was determined to introduce you to them, said something about his sharp intuition telling him something or whatever.

Which is how you now find yourself in the living room of the place where he grew up, poring over photo albums like how dehydrated animals in hot climates pore over water.

With his mother, of all people.

“And this is him when his quirk first manifested,” Mitsuki explains, speeding through the pages of the album whilst grinning. You can’t help but grin back.

She points to a rather old photograph on the last page. “And this one is him playing baseball in 8th grade.”

Intrigued, you move closer to see the picture, smiling when you spot him, crimson eyes and ash blonde locks sticking out like a rose amidst the thorny bushes—impossible to miss.

Wanting to fill the air, you offer: “Bakugou was a very cute kid, Mitsuki-san.”

In a flash, she looks up at you, a puzzled look decorating her beautiful features, instead of the look of gratitude you were aiming for.

When you look back at her with confused eyes yourself, she asks, “You still call each other by your last name?”

“Oh—I—uh…”

You eye Bakugou who’s in the kitchen, chopping fresh vegetables for the salad, as per his mother’s instructions.

You convince yourself that he’s got to be out of earshot.

Stumbling over your words again, you scramble for purchase. “Well—”

To your relief, Mitsuki only laughs good-naturedly in response, cutting you off.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I know my Katsuki can be a bit intimidating sometimes, but inside he’s a real softie who appreciates the little things.”

You could simply nod in response.

From the kitchen, Bakugou announces: “I’m going to the restroom. Start eating without me.”

A fourth time does not end up happening.

Instead, you find yourself riding the elevator to the rooftop of Bakugou’s apartment complex, where he’s already waiting for you.

‘I’ll just go ahead’ is what he said after both of you finished cleaning the dishes from dinner. ‘Make sure to catch up’.

Before you know it, the elevator doors slide open and you step out, suddenly becoming acutely aware of the heavy feeling now sitting in your stomach.

Will you finally figure out why Bakugou’s been acting a bit off lately?

You immediately spot him, back turned against you, and arms folded across his chest, resting on top of the railing.

Slowly, you walk towards him, ultimately situating yourself to his right.

A tense—albeit not uncomfortable—silence falls upon you.

Neither of you says anything until you pipe up with: “Is there bad news?”

At that, he finally turns his head to look at you. “Hah?”

You school your expression into a pensive one. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“What?” he exclaims, his entire body now facing you in a frantic hurry. “No!”

You chuckle. “Then what’s with the bad news face?”

“Bad news face?”

Nodding, you continue. “The face you make when you hear or are about to deliver bad news. It’s the more solemn iteration of your scowl.”

“What—” he scoffs, although he sounds pleased, “—You’ve fucken memorized my expressions?”

You shrug sheepishly.

When he doesn’t say anything in return, you prod further. “How bad is it?”

He huffs, breaking eye contact. “No bad news. Just—it’s…shit, never mind.”

“It’s just me,” you remind him. “It’s okay.”

With your reassurance, you can see his body relaxing a little bit, though he still refuses to say anything.

A few more seconds of tense silence pass before Bakugou finally looks you straight in the eye.

“Why the fuck do you call me Bakugou?

You stare at him. “...because it’s your name?”

Whatever he wanted to hear from you, it sure wasn’t that.

He scoffs. “Yeah? Well, why do you call shitty hair Ei or shitty deku Izuku? Have I failed some fucking test to qualify for first name privileges?”

“What are you talking about?”

This is what made him act weirdly the past week?

“Don’t make me say it again, woman,” he spits, although there’s not much venom coating his words.

“God,” he combs through his hair in frustration, “this is fucking humiliating.”

“I call you Bakugou because that’s what I called you back when we were just friends,” you try to reason. “Also, I…I didn’t want to start calling you Katsuki out of nowhere.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to,” you finish, voice small.

“Who said I wanted you to call me that?”

 You shoot him a knowing look.

You stare at each other for a few more seconds before he groans in defeat, turning to face the city skyline instead of you. You follow suit, opting to look up at the stars that seem to be twinkling extra tonight.

Moments pass with neither of you saying anything.

You gently bump his shoulder with yours.

“For what it’s worth,” you start, “I don’t think there’s anything to be embarrassed about.”

He only grunts in response. You press on.

“The fact that you just told me all this…I don’t know. It makes me happy. It’s sort of like saying you care enough about our relationship to communicate even the most ‘humiliating’—your words not mine—of concerns.

“Of course I fucking do, dumbass,” he retorts. “Wouldn’t have confessed to you if I was just gonna chicken out at some point like a loser.”

You smile at him and his words, and you hope your adoration translates to your face, because the thing with Bakugou is that sometimes you have to deliver the message without having to utter the words—all to preserve the moment before it’s adulterated by shame.

“Right,” you look at him, “why don’t you call me by my first name?”

“Figured I haven’t earned it yet,” he says bluntly.

Amused, you push forward. “And how were you planning to earn it?”

He shoots you a glare. “By being the best fucking boyfriend, that’s how.”

At that, you cannot help the delighted laughter that erupts from you.

He side-eyes you, annoyed, though a smile manages to crack through the facade.

“Stop laughing at me.”

And when you don’t: “Hey.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you exclaim, trying to catch your breath. “I’m just happy.”

He studies you for a beat, eyes fluttering across your face as if he’s searching for something. You feel yourself grow warmer under his piercing gaze.

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally says: “Call me Katsuki.”

You grin, “Okay, Katsuki.”

At your mention of his name, the scowl plastered on his face eases a little into a neutral—borderline happy—expression.

“And I’ll call you by your first name…” he declares, “if you’re fine with it or if not, just forget I said that.”

You take his hand and squeeze it before he can ramble some more.

“Sounds good to me, Katsuki.”

bonus:

“I swear,” you argue while putting on your shoes, “I can ride the subway, Katsuki.”

“At this hour?” he snorts.

“Best fucking boyfriend, remember?” he sneers as he obtains his car keys by the doorway. “Just let me do this for you.”

You relent, knowing better than to fight with Katsuki on the matter of your safety, when suddenly a brilliant idea dawns on you.

Straightening up, you say: “I don’t think I saw you drinking water after dinner, Katsuki.”

“What?”

“Go hydrate yourself,” you command.

At that, he grumbles but submits to you anyway, walking back to his tidy kitchen.

Once you see that he’s in the middle of chugging down a bottle, you call: “Katsuki?”

He grunts—the best he can do while downing a bottle of water—in response.

“Can I call you babe?”

Bakugou chokes on his spit.

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @beabe19

[noirblanc333]

Aizawa and His Controversially Young Girlfriend

You just happened to meet by chance while he was off duty. He had one of his few moments of down time and he gave you some directions

He didn’t realize that you probably didn’t really need him to walk you to the coffee shop that was five minutes away. However, you spent that time not so subtlety flirting with him

By the time you get to the shop you decide he clearly wasn’t getting it or he wasn’t interested. Just before he walks away you decide to give it one last shot

“Do you wanna come in and grab a coffee with me?”

He’s shocked as all the now obvious signs click into place

You were young, far too young for him. However something in him makes him open the door for you as you give him your giddiest grin

Things only go up from there. You both find yourselves quickly infatuated. After an hour (or two 🤭) chatting at the coffee shop you grab his number

After seeing you off, Aizawa is hit with a wave of reality. You couldn’t be much older than his students and he had certainly never dated that young. He then convinces himself it’s probably not even worth worrying about because a pretty girl like you probably isn’t going to waste her time with him

WRONG. You text him as soon as you get home. Both of you spend weeks texting, grinning at your screens as your friends wonder

Before long you’ve been dating for months and as you spend more time together it’s painfully clear that your boyfriend is also Eraserhead. He fesses up with barely any inquiring from you. He’s far too susceptible to your gaze

The first time you meet his students they love you. The girls trade tips and funny stories while some of the boys test the water. They’re all a bit shocked (and some of the boys mortified) when they realize you’re their sensei’s girlfriend, but it goes rather smoothly

You quickly make friends with Mic and Midnight. Wine nights as a foursome in what has slowly turned into you and Aizawa’s apartment

The last people to know are the media and the public. There is lots of buzz about Eraserhead’s “new hot thing.” People even come to bet just how long the relationship lasts. Then of course come the vultures that tear you apart for being a siren preying on heroes who certainly wasn’t good enough for Eraser

Aizawa is seething when he finds you crying over nasty comments left on your social media, the straw that broke the camel’s back. Next time a reporter catches him he doesn’t hold back on expressing just how much he loves you and that any commentary on his relationship or his girlfriend are entirely unacceptable

After Aizawa’s rather fiery interview there is an outcry of support. Hashtags of y’all’s ship name go viral and people are talking about which heroes they’d like to be controversially young with

Maybe a few months later Aizawa asks you to be his controversially young wife

[eggcompany]

older viktor who needs help around the house and younger! jayce who was assigned the helper

Older professor viktor who can’t get around very well anymore. He needs help at home and getting to class, and a little assistance getting from class to his office and a few other things. He uses his wheelchair almost everyday but can get around a few steps with help of his cane. So he went looking for a personal aid. Someone to live in his large apartment and assist him all day.

Jayce was freshly moved out of his Mama’s house. He was living with six other people in a two bedroom and was sleeping on a couch. So when it came up that his idol, the renowned inventor and professor Viktor, was looking for a personal caretaker and assistant, he jumped for it.

Viktor interviewed. And interviewed. And interviewed. It was tiring. He needed someone who was ready to assist him at home, someone strong yet knew how to do basic household tasks like dusting and cooking. He needed someone who was also prepared to see him at his most vulnerable and insecure, they needed to be gentle and unjudgemental. He needed someone academic to assist him in and out of class without having to explain everything.

And no one was fitting the bill.

Then it was the last interview of the day and he was exhausted. Jayce came in dressed in his best button down, it was brown and he hung it up in the bathroom while he showered like his ma had told him too so there wasn’t any wrinkles, and he made sure to shine his shoes and comb his hair.

He sat down and smiled, he was so close to Viktor, he was curious if the tired looking professor preferred coffee or power naps. He tried his best to answer every question politely and truthfully but he was nervous, palms sweating. Viktor told him to show up at his apartment the next day with his things, prepared to work.

Jayce happily told his mother about his new job and she made sure he knew to be good, kind, and to remember that his boss was still just a normal man who needs help.

Jayce never knew it would be so easy. He helped Viktor dress, helped him put on his braces, getting instructions the whole time, he cooked breakfast, did the dishes, did a load of laundry, and then walked with him to class, helping him over some more difficult doorways. Then he sat in the back of the room and watched Viktor lecture.

Then he went with him to his office and helped fetch him books and took out the trash. He dusted and ate some candy from the professors desk. And then brought the older man back home, cooked, dishes, bath, and then chatted over tea before sending him to bed.

Jayce found it easy, nothing more than labor. And the surprisingly nice company of the older man. Viktor was witty but kind, firm but caring, and so utterly brilliant it was dazzling.

Jayce savoured every moment. Even when Viktor was snippy and short, when he just wanted to sit in the bath, he still allowed Jayce to read to him or listen to music. He paid handsomely and even invited Jayce to accompany him to galas and events, buying him new clothes and supplies.

Jayce can’t lie and say his heart doesn’t jump everytime Viktor speaks to him in that quiet, soft tone reserved just for him.

Viktor isn’t a shy man, but he can’t help the way his face warms and he feels like a school boy again when he sees Jayce smile at him or when he’s dancing in the kitchen, when he gets thrown into a fit of passion about mechanics or his favorite show. It makes Viktor feel young again.

[ddlydevotion]

obsessive! actor x fem reader ⋆₊˚⊹

"some part of me came alive, the first time that you called me baby."

currently listening to: michelle pfeiffer by ethel cain ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ

Lukas is an incredibly well renowned actor that has been in some of the most admired films in cinematic history. He has a pattern of playing morally grey characters that the audience can’t help but sympathize with. His range isn’t something that can be denied but much rather something to be congratulated. He’s been in the acting world since he was a young man in his early twenties, now he’s in his forties and continues to work with some of the greatest directors in the entire industry.

Lukas loves what he does and considers it a privilege to be able to be apart of such precious artistic expressions, but he knows he doesn’t want to remain in this industry forever. He doesn’t enjoy being in the spotlight unless it’s for a film, he doesn’t enjoy the idea of his private life being up for discussion. Sure, he’ll give interviews and answer questions pertaining to his personal life but he never goes too into detail. He also doesn’t take a liking to social media.

He graces the screen with his undeniable, unwavering talent and goes on about his life. It’s this attitude of his that makes him all that much more alluring to the audience. The two of you just so happen to meet on the set of a horror movie that Lukas is starring in. You’re part of the makeup crew and play an important role in assisting Lukas through a drastic physical transformation for his character. The two of you would often make friendly conversation with one another since you’d be working together for an extended amount of time, so why not get familiar with each other? Lukas found himself even more excited to head to set because he knew he’d be able to speak with you. The knowledge that he’d be able to spend time with you most of the time on set motivated him even further to show up to work.

Luckily enough, it didn’t take long for a romantic relationship to blossom between the two of you. It was painfully obvious to everyone around you that Lukas had grown quite obsessed fond of you. No one could ignore the longing glances he’d throw your way when the two of you were in the same room. He constantly searched for you when he entered a room and he’d quickly find his place next to you once the two of you locked eyes. Lukas was nothing but gentle when it came to you. He treated you as if you were a skittish fawn that’d run away at any second. He’d constantly ask about your day, your plans for the weekend, your motivation for getting into your line of work, and look you right in the eyes while doing so. He wanted to show you that he truly cared in every way possible. He memorizes each and every little thing that you’ve ever told him, and it never fails to catch you by surprise.

Even after filming wrapped, he did everything in his power to stay in contact with you. He would constantly invite you to chat over coffee with him, and he’d practically fight you when you’d try to pay.

“Cmon give me that. I brought you out here and you think I’m gonna let you pay?”

He’s practically your biggest supporter. Lukas never allows you to degrade yourself or downplay your talent/accomplishments. He simply cannot understand how you could ever feel such negative emotions towards yourself. If he could make you see yourself through his eyes, he swears you’d never insult yourself again. You’re everything to him. Lukas loves being an actor and considers himself incredibly lucky to be in his line of work but his routine became quite monotonous over the years. There was just something about you that breathed life back into him. You made him even more motivated to show up on set and pour his entire heart into a performance. He wanted to make you proud.

He adores lying with you skin-to-skin and having your head on his chest. Your presence never fails to ground him and your practically a security blanket for him in these moments. He holds you like water, as if you’d disappear with just one wrong move.

Lukas isn’t the type of man to shy away from confrontation. If he feels as if someone is even attempting to insult you, he’s cutting that shit off real quick. He also isn’t going to let them off easy. He’ll call them out on their behavior and embarrass them to no end for even thinking that they could speak to you that way.

always has to have at least one of his hands on you.

smokes cigarettes on occasion but has cut down on this habit by a lot ever since he met you. Mainly because you’ve helped him find other replacements for this habit and he also just doesn’t want to constantly smell like smoke when around you.

His phone display is black & white and his reason for this is that it helps him stay off of his phone.

It doesn’t take more than a month for him to take you to Denmark in order to meet his loved ones. Some might say that he’s moving too fast, but…who said he cares? Lukas knows that he loves you so why would he make you wait an unnecessarily long amount of time before meeting his family? Lukas also said that he loved you while in the process of asking you to be his girlfriend. The word ‘girlfriend’ is so childish to him and he’d call you his wife upon first meeting you if he could. He’s working on that don’t worry. So, you could deem his actions as love bombing but he wouldn’t say so ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ) ! Love bombing means that he’d eventually starve you of his affection and he’d rather die than do such a thing.

You practically lived with him even before you properly moved into his place. You had your own little drawer in his bedroom, he kept an extra toothbrush just for you, and most of your belongings ended up in his home.

He’d most likely want you to quit your job. He would constantly remind you that he’d have no issue taking care of you financially. Lukas wants nothing more than for you to be able to relax, let your guard down and allow him to care for you in more ways than one. If you don’t want to quit your job then that’s completely fine!But don’t be surprised when you’re randomly let go from the production team of whatever film you may be working on.

Calls you: princess, sweetheart, and darling.

He only has one tattoo and it’s of your name. It’s right on the side of his neck and is written in this font.

He’s working his way up to propose to you and plans on making it the most extravagant thing he’s ever done. He’s soooo specific about his plan and already has the fattest ring picked out for you. He’s hired the best of the best when it comes to musicians, private chefs, dinner/dessert caterers, wedding planners, florists, etc.

Definitely plans on having a coffee station at your wedding, as well.

His favorite movie is Taxi Driver + he enjoys listening to classic rock n roll/blues.

a/n: I’m planning on making a part two to this!! Also I’m posting this at 2 am so I apologize for any spelling errors. Let me know if you’d like to join my taglist + my requests are open 💌🐻.

[sizzleissues]

I just need more fics/comics that deals with the logistics of being teenage superhero’s. The fandom around them, the battles they must have on the internet over which Char Noir pic is the goofiest. The cringe fail moments. How differently Adrien handles his fame, how fans of Adrien or of Chat Noir are constantly beefing with each other. How Marinette sometimes forgets she isn’t famous as just Marinette so she makes assumptions when people are just asking her a question and she dies of embarrassment each time. How she can’t deal with fame so she just defaults to stoic hero whenever she has to do an interview but cringes later because she looks and sounds like a constipated robot. Fans sneaking to take photos of them, just hanging out. Watching Ladynoir unfold. The people they subtly impact each day. The owner of a roof they always talk on, the barista at the coffee shop Ladybug seems to fall into every second day, the florist that supplies Chat Noir his roses and gets the vague details when he returns, more dejected, for more.

I want to see this phantom fame that’s around them be animated as if they were real people.

[paddockletters]

racing hearts | lando norris ft. jude bellingham

paring: lando norris x reader jude bellingham x reader summary: Mia, a sports analyst caught between the worlds of football and F1, finds herself drawn to both Jude Bellingham and Lando Norris. Amidst the excitement of their glamorous lives, a pivotal moment forces her to confront her feelings, leaving her future uncertain and filled with possibility. author's note: Hope you liked it, teel me if you want a second part maybe... Well, as I always say... english is not my first language so pardon me if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me— and my requests are open!👀

Mia sat in the bustling café near the stadium, nursing a flat white as she scanned the latest highlights from the football matches on her phone. A sea of fans swarmed outside, their cheers echoing through the streets of Birmingham, but her mind was far from the beautiful game—or so she told herself. She had an important interview with Jude Bellingham that afternoon, and deep down, she wasn’t quite sure how it would go.

As she scrolled through her feed, a message dinged in from Lando Norris, her recently acquired contact via social media. "Fancy a catch-up? Just finished practice and could do with a laugh. Let’s grab a bite!"

Mia grinned, recalling their effortless banter from the charity event a few weeks back. "Absolutely! How about that café by the stadium?"

Within moments, a new message appeared: "Deal! Just don’t spill your drink this time, yeah? Wouldn’t want you to drown on me."

She chuckled, recalling the time she’d nearly snorted coffee when he showed her a video of his latest racing antics. Lando had a way of making every conversation feel like a joyride—safe but exhilarating.

Having finished her drink, Mia slipped her phone into her bag just as a familiar voice broke through her thoughts.

“Oi! Mia!” Jude's voice was as warm as the sun peeking through the clouds outside. Dressed in a casual tracksuit, his presence was magnetic. Her nervousness melted away as he approached.

“Mister Bellingham! Thanks for meeting me,” she replied, standing to embrace him with a light hug. “You know it’s not every day I get to chat with a superstar.”

“A bit of an overstatement, isn’t it?” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck, an endearing nervous habit. “But I’m chuffed to have you here! I’ve been looking forward to this.”

As they settled into a booth, Jude leaned in, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, are you going to tell me how close you are to Lando Norris, or should I be worried?”

Mia felt her cheeks heat up, but she brushed it off. “What? We’re just mates! He’s a laugh, you know? Good vibes all around!”

“Right, of course.” Jude raised an eyebrow, teasing. “Just keep your lips sealed about my dodgy free kicks, and we’re golden.”

They moved on to chatting about football, with Jude discussing his goals for the season and Mia sharing her experiences dissecting games for the network. As she listened, she was struck by his sincerity and genuine passion for the sport.

"Honestly, it’s not just about the glory, you know? It’s about the love for the game,” Jude said, his eyes gleaming with fervour. “Every time I step on that pitch, it’s like I’m living my dream.”

“I get that completely! You can see it in how you play, Jude. It’s inspiring,” Mia replied, feeling a sense of awe wash over her.

Just then, the bell above the café door jingled, and in walked Lando, all energy and charm. He spotted Mia and Jude instantly, making a beeline towards them, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Look who it is! The lovely Mia and Mr. Bellingham!” Lando said, sliding into the booth with the confidence of a man who knew he belonged. “What’s the secret meeting about? Planning world domination or just scheming how to beat me in a race?”

“Beat you in a race? I’d rather stick to football, thanks,” Jude quipped, grinning back as he leaned back, clearly at ease.

Mia watched the two banter back and forth, their easy camaraderie adding to her internal conflict. She felt a tug between their worlds—Jude's grounded seriousness and Lando’s lively and flamboyant spirit.

“Come on, Mia, you should ditch the footie for a day and give racing a go,” Lando insisted, playfully nudging her shoulder. “I’ll take you for a spin. Just try not to scream, alright? My driving’s top-notch.”

“And your humour is bottom-tier,” Jude interjected, but there was no bite to his words. They all laughed, but Mia noticed the intensity in Jude's gaze as he looked at her. It was surprising and new, igniting a flutter in her stomach.

“You should, though,” he said softly, turning serious for a moment. “It’s thrilling. You’d love it. The adrenaline is like nothing else.”

Just then, a flare of tension filled the air. Mia felt the atmosphere shift as she glanced between both of them—two incredible athletes with undeniable chemistry, each vying for more than just friendship.

Mia shifted in her seat, her heart racing with the unspoken tension between Jude and Lando. The café's vibrant atmosphere seemed to fade as she focused on the exchange unfolding before her.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that someday,” Mia said, attempting to lighten the mood. She looked at Lando, who still wore his characteristic grin. “But I think I’m better off sticking to my day job—at least until I’ve had some more practice.”

“Fair enough,” Lando said with a wink. “But remember, I’m always here for a joyride if you change your mind.”

Jude cleared his throat, his tone turning more earnest. “And if you ever need a break from racing or football, you know where to find me. I’m always up for a chat or a quick kickabout.”

Mia smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. She admired both men for their dedication and passion, but the emotional stakes of their unspoken feelings were beginning to weigh on her.

“Thanks, both of you. That means a lot,” Mia said, her voice slightly trembling. “It’s not often I get to hang out with two of the most amazing athletes in their fields.”

They continued their conversation, but Mia’s mind was preoccupied with the growing realization of her feelings for both Jude and Lando. The way Jude’s eyes softened when he spoke, the genuine support he offered—he was everything she’d ever wanted in a partner, but there was also Lando, whose spontaneous charm and zest for life had quickly captured her heart.

As the afternoon wore on, Jude and Lando’s playful banter persisted, but Mia’s thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions. It wasn’t long before they had to part ways, each with their own commitments and schedules.

“See you around, Mia,” Jude said, giving her a friendly hug. “And good luck with everything. You’re doing great.”

“Thanks, Jude,” Mia replied, her heart aching slightly at the thought of parting from him. “I’ll catch up with you soon.”

Lando approached next, offering a mischievous grin. “Don’t let Jude scare you off football too much. And remember, there’s always a seat in my car if you need a break.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Mia said, feeling a pang of regret as she returned his hug. “Take care, Lando.”

As she watched them leave, Mia felt the weight of her dilemma settle heavily on her shoulders. Her feelings for Jude and Lando were genuine, but the intensity of their emotions and the complexity of her own heart made the situation increasingly challenging.

She stood by the window of the café, watching the crowd outside, her mind awash with thoughts and feelings. The choice she faced wasn’t just about choosing between two incredible men but also about finding her own path in this tangled web of emotions. The football season and F1 calendar would continue, and so would the world of sports, but for Mia, the real race was against the growing confusion within her heart.

Mia took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. She knew she needed time to figure things out—time to understand her own heart and desires. As she walked away from the café, her steps were lighter, her mind clearer, even as her heart remained caught in the exhilarating whirlwind of racing hearts.

The following weeks were a whirlwind for Mia as she juggled her work responsibilities with the emotional turbulence of her personal life. Between analyzing game footage for football matches and covering F1 races, Mia found little time for herself. Yet, the ongoing saga of her feelings for Jude and Lando was never far from her mind.

One crisp autumn morning, Mia was at the edge of her seat, covering a crucial football match. Jude's team had a major game, and she was busy preparing her pre-match report. Her phone buzzed with a message from Lando:

"Race day tomorrow. Let’s catch up before I hit the track. I’ve got something special planned."

Mia’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing Lando. She hadn’t seen him since their café meeting, and his playful promise of something special intrigued her.

She replied, "Sounds great! Where should we meet?"

“Meet me at the paddock early. I’ll have a surprise waiting for you,” Lando’s reply came swiftly.

The next day, Mia arrived at the F1 paddock, the excitement of race day palpable in the air. Lando greeted her with his usual exuberance. “Hey, Mia! Ready for the surprise?”

“Absolutely. What’s the plan?” Mia asked, trying to hide her anticipation.

“Just follow me,” Lando said with a grin.

He led her to a private area near the track, away from the hustle and bustle. A sleek, custom race car was parked there, its colors dazzling under the sun.

“This is for you,” Lando said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I thought you might enjoy a spin in one of these beauties before the race.”

Mia’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding! Are you sure?”

“Trust me,” Lando replied, laughing. “It’s all safe. I promise.”

As they drove around the track, the speed and adrenaline were exhilarating. Lando’s presence beside her was both comforting and thrilling. They shared a few moments of laughter and awe, the world outside the car blurring into a streak of colors.

When they returned to the paddock, Mia felt a mix of elation and nervousness. Lando’s charm had rekindled her earlier feelings, making it harder to focus on her work.

Later that evening, as Mia prepared to cover the football match, she spotted Jude in the stadium’s VIP section. He was watching the game with intense focus, and Mia’s heart did a little flip. She took a deep breath and walked over to greet him.

“Hey, Jude!” she said, trying to sound casual despite her racing heart.

“Hey, Mia,” Jude responded warmly. “How was the day? I hope Lando didn’t drive you too crazy.”

“Not at all,” Mia said with a smile. “He gave me an unforgettable ride.”

As the match went on, Mia found herself caught between two worlds. Jude’s passion for football was magnetic, and his presence was comforting. She admired his dedication and the way he spoke about the game with such love and enthusiasm.

At the end of the match, Jude walked with Mia to the stadium’s exit, his hand lightly brushing against hers. “You’ve been working so hard. How about we grab a drink sometime soon, just the two of us?”

Mia hesitated, feeling the weight of her feelings for both Jude and Lando. “I’d like that,” she said softly. “I’ll let you know when I’m free.”

Later that night, as Mia lay in bed, her thoughts were a tangled mess of emotions. The thrill of the racetrack and Lando’s infectious energy contrasted sharply with Jude’s sincere and grounded nature. She felt torn, unable to fully embrace either relationship without feeling guilty or conflicted.

As the weeks went by, Mia began to realize that she needed to take a step back and focus on herself. She continued to enjoy her time with both Jude and Lando but knew that her decision would come in time.

In a heart-to-heart conversation with a close friend, Mia admitted her confusion.

“I care about both of them, but I need to figure out what I really want. It’s not fair to them or to myself if I don’t.”

Her friend nodded in understanding. “Sometimes, the best way to make a decision is to listen to your own heart and take a step back. You’ve got to find what truly makes you happy.”

With that advice in mind, Mia decided to embrace a period of self-discovery. She focused on her career and passions, allowing herself the space to understand her own desires without the pressure of choosing between Jude and Lando.

As time went on, Mia’s clarity grew. She realized that her journey was about more than just choosing between two incredible people. It was about finding herself and her own path in a world filled with excitement and uncertainty. And while her heart was still intertwined with both Jude and Lando, she knew that the future held possibilities she was eager to explore—both in love and in her own life.

As the winter months settled in, Mia’s internal struggle began to weigh heavily on her. Her career was flourishing, and she had become a respected figure in the sports world, but the personal turmoil involving Jude and Lando remained unresolved.

Jude and Mia’s friendship grew more complex. Jude had been patient and understanding, always present and supportive. Their conversations often lingered on deeper topics, and Jude’s gentle affection began to take on a more romantic tone. His heartfelt gestures and considerate actions made it increasingly difficult for Mia to ignore the feelings that were developing.

On the other hand, Lando’s presence was a whirlwind of excitement. He continued to charm her with his spontaneous adventures and infectious laughter. His adventurous spirit and playful demeanor had become a refreshing escape from the pressures of her daily life. Yet, the intensity of their interactions was unmistakable, and Lando’s occasional hints about their future together left Mia feeling both exhilarated and overwhelmed.

The tipping point came during a major sports gala in London, where both Jude and Lando were in attendance. Mia had been invited to cover the event, and the evening promised to be a glamorous affair. She arrived early to prepare, her thoughts occupied by the weight of her decisions.

As she mingled with guests and conducted interviews, Jude approached her with a serious look in his eyes. “Mia, can we talk?”

“Of course,” Mia replied, her heart racing as she followed him to a quieter corner of the venue.

Jude took a deep breath, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability. “I know things have been complicated, and I respect that you need time. But I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with just being friends. I care about you deeply, and I want more. I need to know where you stand.”

Mia was taken aback by his honesty. “Jude, I—”

Before she could respond, Lando appeared, his usual grin replaced by a more somber expression. “Hey, Mia. Can I have a word with you too?”

Jude looked at Lando, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Sure, Lando. Go ahead.”

Lando led Mia to the edge of the gala hall, away from prying eyes. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately. I know I’ve been a bit of a whirlwind, and maybe I didn’t give you the space you needed. But I really care about you, Mia. More than I’ve let on. I know this is probably the last thing you need right now with everything going on, but I had to tell you."

Mia’s head spun as she looked between the two men. Both Jude and Lando had laid their feelings bare, and the pressure felt overwhelming. She had been avoiding this moment for weeks, trying to focus on her career and navigate the swirl of media attention, but now she had to face it head-on.

Rumors about her relationships had been flying for some time. Tabloids were constantly speculating, printing photos of her with Jude at a café, or Lando sneaking her into the paddock for a quick joyride. It was getting harder to ignore. The attention had shifted from her work to her personal life, and it was affecting her more than she liked to admit.

“I... I don’t know what to say,” Mia admitted, her voice wavering as she finally spoke. “This whole situation has been a lot, and I’ve been trying to figure it out myself. The media, the rumors... it’s been so intense. I care about both of you, but I’ve been struggling to even think clearly.”

Jude’s face softened, his usually confident demeanor giving way to concern. “I had no idea you were feeling like that. You don’t have to decide anything right now, Mia. But just know that whatever happens, I’ll respect your space and your choices.”

Lando shifted uneasily, his hands shoved in his pockets as he looked away for a moment. “Yeah, same here. I didn’t mean to add pressure. I just wanted you to know how I feel. We can take it slow—whatever you need.”

Mia felt her eyes welling up as the weight of the situation finally hit her. “Thank you, both of you. I just need some time to think about what’s best for me.”

Jude nodded, stepping back to give her space. “Take all the time you need, Mia. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

Lando gave her a small smile, the usual mischief in his eyes replaced with something softer. “I’ll be around, too. And hey, no matter what, we’re mates first.”

Mia let out a shaky breath, feeling both relieved and conflicted as she watched the two men walk away. The media could say what they wanted, but this decision was hers to make, and she knew it wouldn’t be easy.

With that, Mia felt a mixture of relief and sadness. She knew that her decision would not be easy, and the road ahead was uncertain. As the gala continued around them, she watched Jude and Lando walk away in opposite directions, each carrying a piece of her heart with them.

As she left the gala that night, the city lights shimmering in the distance, Mia knew one thing for certain: before she could choose between Jude and Lando, she had to choose herself first. And that was going to take more than just a headline or a rumor to figure out.

In the days that followed, Mia took a step back from both Jude and Lando, focusing on her career and personal growth. The break allowed her to gain perspective and eventually led to a deeper understanding of her own desires and needs.

Months later, at a quiet café where it all began, Mia sat alone, sipping her coffee. She looked out the window, reflecting on the tumultuous journey she had experienced. The thrill of the racing tracks and the passion of the football fields had left their marks on her, but it was the time she spent finding herself that truly shaped her path.

As the café door chimed open, Mia saw a familiar face—Jude. He approached her with a warm smile, and they exchanged a simple, heartfelt greeting.

“Hey, Jude,” Mia said, her voice steady and genuine. “It’s been a while. How are things with you?”

“Hey, Mia,” Jude replied, his smile tinged with a hint of sadness. “Things have been good, just keeping busy with the season. I’ve been thinking about you. How are you holding up?”

“I’m doing well,” Mia said, feeling a sense of calm. “I’ve been focusing on my work and taking some time for myself.”

Jude nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of understanding and regret. “I’m glad to hear you’re finding your balance. I just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you ever want to talk or need anything.”

Mia smiled, appreciating his words. “Thanks, Jude. That means a lot.”

As Jude turned to leave, Mia’s phone buzzed with a new message. It was from Lando.

“Hey, Mia. I hope you’re doing alright. I know things have been complicated lately. I’m in Monaco, but I’d really like to catch up when I’m back. Maybe we can figure things out over coffee? Just let me know.”

Mia read the message and felt a surge of conflicting emotions. She was touched by Lando’s sincerity, but also felt the weight of her own unresolved feelings.

Sipping her coffee, Mia gazed out the window, contemplating the paths before her. Both Jude and Lando had made a significant impact on her life, each in their own way. She realized that no matter which direction she chose, it would come with its own set of challenges and opportunities.

With a thoughtful sigh, Mia responded to Lando’s message, “I’d like that. Let’s talk when you’re back. Thanks for reaching out.”

As she sent the message, Mia knew that the future was uncertain but full of possibilities. She was ready to explore what lay ahead, with the potential for new beginnings and meaningful connections. The decision of who to pursue—or whether to pursue either—was still to be made, but for now, Mia was open to whatever the journey would bring.

The café bustled with activity around her, a reflection of the vibrant life she was living, and Mia felt a renewed sense of hope and curiosity about the future.

[defectivevillain]

struck by your lightning, ch3

reader’s pronouns: he/him

summary: You decide to take advantage of the moment’s respite you’re given. “Okay. Hey, how are you?” You look up, only to find yourself staring at Kaminari Denki. The Kaminari Denki—the idol with over thirty million listeners and sold-out concerts across the world. You’re certain that you’re going to fumble your words several times in front of him. (You're a reporter working at the red carpet of a national award gala. You've convinced yourself that you're doing just fine. At least, you're doing fine until you interview Kaminari.)

here’s chapter one and chapter two [you’ll want to read these first, otherwise this won’t make much sense]

this is a chat-hybrid fic and the formatting was mostly made for ao3. it’s a lil wonky here, so here’s the ao3 version if you’d prefer to read that :)

since it's been a while, here's a refresh of what happened in ch1-2: The reader works at DoubleVision agency and is invited to interview artists at an award show. His interview and interaction with Kaminari quickly goes viral—both because of his flustered reaction at the end and the “Love ya”s exchanged at the end. The reader tries not to think too much of it, until he opens his phone to find a message from an unknown number who proves to be Kaminari himself. The two quickly grow to be friends through frequent text conversations. Kaminari reveals that he has your placard for the event and plans for the two of you to meet up together at the nearby coffee shop…

now, onto the story....

Tokyo Entertainment Fix | @tokentfix

Popstar Kaminari Denki Spotted with Reporter from Awards Gala at Coffee Shop! 

[ coffee1.jpg ] [ coffee2.jpg ] [ coffee3.jpg ]

89k comments | 486k retweets | 1.8m likes

____________

jj | @dendendenki

ARE Y’ALL SEEING THIS

409 comments | 3k retweets | 18.2k likes

i said what i said. | @ urfavescouldnever

In response to @dendendenki 

seeing what

5 comments | 21 retweets | 451 likes

jj | @dendendenki

In response to @ urfavescouldnever 

THIS [tokentfix.twt] [newsarticle.link]

61 comments | 1.3k retweets | 8k likes

i said what i said. | @ urfavescouldnever

In response to @dendendenki 

I’M SEEING IT NOW HOLY SHIT

4 comments | 808 retweets | 1.6k likes

_______

Direct Message 

You: have you seen…?

Kaminari Denki: the news article about us?

You: yeah

Kaminari Denki: ah yeah, i saw it

You: i’m sorry

Kaminari Denki: i’m sorry

Kaminari Denki: WHAT

You: i’m sorry

Kaminari Denki: no no no

Kaminari Denki: stop that immediately

You: y??

Kaminari Denki: bc it's not ur fault!!!

Kaminari Denki: if anything, i should be the one apologizing 

You: why??? you didn’t do anything

Kaminari Denki: NEITHER DID YOU

You: ah damn it i see what you did there

Kaminari Denki: damn right

Kaminari Denki: but srsly, i hope the article isn’t messing anything up for u

You: i was gonna say the same to you

Kaminari Denki: oh pls, this kind of shit happens to me all the time

Kaminari Denki: but seriously, are you doing ok?

You: yep all good

You: it’s just more funny than anything else

Kaminari Denki: is the thought of dating me really so bad :(

You: oh pls, that’s not what i meant

You: i just meant celebrity culture in general…  like they’re so obsessed with your relationship status and it’s kinda weird>??

Kaminari Denki: yeah… 

You: sigh

You: so glad i’m just a lowly reporter 🙏

Kaminari Denki: hey, don’t jinx it

Kaminari Denki: plus, haven’t you looked on twt recently

Kaminari Denki: fans are shipping us together

Kaminari Denki: pretty sure there are stan accounts dedicated to you now

Kaminari Denki: not that i would know

Kaminari Denki: or follow them

You: fr??

Kaminari Denki: fr fr

You: deadass?

Kaminari Denki: on god

You: i hate us

Kaminari Denki: same

__________

Thankfully, that article about Kaminari and you doesn’t actually change much. You go about business as usual, albeit with a strange sense of guilt prickling along your skin when your mind is unoccupied. You throw yourself into your work and try to bury the emotions, but they are never truly extinguished. 

Your conversations with Kaminari are far rarer now, especially as the both of you get even busier. Kaminari is working on releasing his next album and you’re pitching new stories and writing to old acquaintances for features. Even though you throw yourself into work, you still find your thoughts returning to Kaminari. Your relationship with him is currently undefined—your meeting the other day felt like a date, but neither of you acknowledged it. You would love to be more than friends with Kaminari, but you also know that someone as well-known as him doesn’t exactly have the freedom to pursue a relationship and a music career at the same time. Resigned, you slowly push away thoughts of Kaminari until you think you get a good handle on your emotions. 

Until everything you try to suppress comes roaring back.

___________

 Kaminari Denki | @kaminaridenki

24 hours. [STATIC.jpg]

203k comments | 1.2m retweets | 4m likes

____________

Kaminari Denki to Release New Album Tomorrow

Arts—Music

2 min ago ᐧ By Janet Drews

Kaminari Denki, award-winning musical artist and popular culture icon, recently announced the release of his new album on Twitter. The Tweet earned over four million likes and 200,000 comments. Listeners are clearly looking forward to the occasion, as #KaminariDenki, #STATIC, and #DenkiAlbum top the Twitter Trending page (#1, #2, and #4, respectively). 

Some fans speculate the new album will be an ode to the rumored relationship between Kaminari and the DoubleVision reporter who interviewed him at the award gala [interview.mp4]. The interaction between the singer and the reporter quickly went viral following live coverage of the event. Digital citizens across the platform searched for explanations for the exchange, and Kaminari fans such as user @heyheyh3y discussed their red-carpet conversation.  

stream lightning by kaminari! | @heyheyh3y okay but is it just me or was there some tension there…  [interview.jpg]: A screenshot of Kaminari standing next to you during the interview.   907 comments | 66k retweets | 256k likes

This album will be a bit different from his previously released music, Kaminari said to Vogue Japan mere days ago. The artist made no mention of a significant other who could bear influence on his new music, despite the fact that he was seen with the DoubleVision reporter at EspressoBeanz but a few days ago—a cafè conveniently located near both DoubleVision agency and UA Entertainment. However, other Kaminari fans, like users @electrstatic and @staticshockwave, weren’t convinced:

⚡⚡| @electrstatic y’all are making such a huge deal about this whole reporter business, as if the same thing hasn’t happened time and time again with literally anyone kaminari interacts with 31 comments | 23 retweets | 700 likes electric boogaloo  | @staticshockwave In response to @electrstatic  THANK YOU. like, when he first got Arata as a manager, everyone was going batshit crazy about how they were dating… and they weren’t. and the way anyone breathing in Kaminari’s direction is assumed to be dating him… it’s crazy 0 comments | 8 retweets | 32 likes

Either way, fans across the world are looking forward to the release of new music from Kaminari.  His new album, STATIC, will be released on Apple Music, Spotify, Soundcloud, and assorted digital platforms at 3 p.m. JST (approximately 10 a.m. UTC). 

__________

Direct Message

You: heyyy, how are you feeling

You: the album releases tmrw, right?

Kaminari Denki: very nervous 

Kaminari Denki: and yes, t minus 20 hrs

You: awesome!

You: and rly? why?

Kaminari Denki: well… i worked hard on it, and i want ppl to like it

You: okay 

You: will you be disappointed if your fans don’t like it?

Kaminari Denki: a little, yeah

You: but why do you write music? do you write it for them or for yourself? 

Kaminari Denki: 

You: sorry, that sounds patronizing…

Kaminari Denki: no, you’re right

Kaminari Denki: i think i needed to hear that

You: i mean, you clearly worked very hard on it. i’m sure everyone listening will recognize that.

Kaminari Denki: i hope so

You: they will 😠 and if they don’t, fuck em

Kaminari Denki: damn right

Kaminari Denki: thanks <3

You: ofc! <3

You: i have to go eat dinner, talk soon?

Kaminari Denki: yep,, enjoy your meal

You: tyyy haha

___________

Direct Message

Kaminari Denki: hypothetically speaking

Sero Brain Cells: ok hello to you too

Sero Brain Cells: also bitch do i look like a scientist

Kaminari Denki: hYPOTHETICALLY SPEAKING

Kaminari Denki: does a “<3” mean someone is hopelessly in love with me

Sero Brain Cells: jfc

Kaminari Denki: is that a yes

Sero Brain Cells: ur so fuckin whipped

Kaminari Denki: SHUT UP

Kaminari Denki: I TRUSTED YOU

Kaminari Denki: i came to you in my time of weakness

Kaminari Denki: and this is how you repay me

Sero Brain Cells: dude, you gotta tell him at some point

Kaminari Denki: ik…

Sero Brain Cells: and even if you don’t, he’ll probably figure it out soon

Kaminari Denki: wdym

Sero Brain Cells: ur new album. 

Kaminari Denki: what about it?

Sero Brain Cells: half of those songs are so clearly about him

Kaminari Denki: nahhhh no way i kept it hella ambiguous

Sero Brain Cells: ambiguous, huh

Kaminari Denki: shut up

Kaminari Denki: … do you really think he’ll notice

Sero Brain Cells: well, i’m not sure

Sero Brain Cells: you both seem a lil oblivious, so it may be fine

Kaminari Denki: hey 😭

Sero Brain Cells: all love

Sero Brain Cells: but also get ur shit together u raging homo (affectionate, non-derogatory)

Kaminari Denki: oh pls, as if you haven’t been pining for shoto for six business years

Sero Brain Cells: HEY

Sero Brain Cells: …HEY

Sero Brain Cells: HEY 💀

Sero Brain Cells: ik ur stressed rn so i’ll let that slide 🤨

Kaminari Denki: ur right, i’m so anxious

Kaminari Denki: sry for taking it out on u, bro 

Sero Brain Cells: it’s ok bro

Sero Brain Cells: wanna get ur ass kicked in mariokart?

Kaminari Denki: do i want to kick ur ass in mariokart? absolutely

Sero Brain Cells: we’ll see about that

Kaminari Denki: damn right we will

___________

Kaminari Denki | @kaminaridenki

fucking godly at mariokart [mariokart.jpg]

19k comments | 97k retweets | 347k likes

Sero | @serofucks

In response to @kaminaridenki 

oh fuck all the way off, you had steering assist on

3k comments | 45k retweets | 228k likes

@kamisimpsimp

In response to @serofucks 

OOOOP

47 comments | 430 retweets | 1.4k likes

surprised pikachu face | @kamipikakami

In response to @kamisimpsimp 

gagged and gooped

31 comments | 338 retweets | 2.3k likes

alex | @kaminarunaronari

In response to @kaminaridenki 

what really concerns me is that you main lakitu

2k comments | 134k retweets | 765k likes

stream lightning by kaminari! | @heyheyh3y

In response to @kaminaridenki 

here we are, anxiously awaiting the new album, and this mf is playing mariokart

21 comments | 208 retweets | 809 likes

@kamisimpsimp

In response to @heyheyh3y 

as one does!

0 comments | 46 retweets | 665 likes

___________

Direct Message 

You: heyyyy

You: it’s release dayyyyyy

Kaminari Denki: when you when you when you whennnnnnnnnnnnnnfdshfkdjs

You: :0

You: looking forward to it!

Kaminari Denki: :3

(Nine Hours Later) 

Direct Message 

You: congratulationsssss!!!!

You: i’ll try to find the time to listen to STATIC soon!!!

Kaminari Denki: thanks :)

___________

Kaminari stares down at his phone, watching as fans discuss the new album. He has the album on shuffle in the background as he tries to brainstorm some choreography. Kaminari has absolute faith in the talented choreographers that he works with—but he just feels like he needs to do something to combat the restless energy surging through him.  

The feedback on the album so far has been overwhelmingly positive, yet he’s still nervous—as if he’s still waiting for a reaction from someone. Shaking his head, he tries to focus on the choreography he’s creating. But that plan quickly backfires. Within moments, his phone buzzes—breaking him out of his thoughts. Kaminari freezes and immediately grabs it from his pocket, heart thudding rhythmically in his chest as he unlocks his phone and goes to his messages. There’s a series of texts from you:

You: ok, i have time to listen, now! You: gonna listen as i make dinner!!!

Kaminari sighs, trying to calm his racing heart. He doesn’t know what to say or how to say it. Taking a deep breath, he puts his phone back in his pocket and decides to practice some of the choreography for his other songs. Even amidst the music running through the space and the dance moves that seemed etched onto his very skin, Kaminari still can’t help but think of you. 

___________

Meanwhile, you’re just getting home from work. You hate to admit it, but you’ve been looking forward to listening to Kaminari’s new album for a bit now. It’s especially thrilling to think that you can discuss it with him afterward—hell, he even seems to be awaiting your feedback. The thought is exciting and nerve-wracking in equal measures. 

You decide to change out of your work clothes before starting dinner, so that you don’t have to worry about staining anything. Then, you grab your Bluetooth speaker and place it on the kitchen counter, before pulling up Kaminari’s newest album and tapping on the first song. Immediately, a beautiful, twisting melody reaches your ears and you swear you feel your shoulders begin to relax. You busy yourself with preparing dinner while his voice fills the space. 

Safe to say, the album is incredible. You really like each song you’ve listened to so far—and have found yourself saving each of them to various playlists. Even if you hadn’t spoken with Kaminari throughout the period he was working on the album, you would be able to tell that he put a lot of effort into it. As you expected, that effort shows through in each and every song.  

His songs are rather hard-hitting, emotionally speaking. The fifth song, traces of you, makes you freeze in place. You have to rewind to listen to one particular portion of the song again: 

…and I stand aside 

as you’re washed away  

with the ebbing tide 

I’m so afraid 

of falling out of love 

Sometimes I look up  

at the blinding black night 

and the stars seem to whisper  

your name in the air 

I feel a shiver roll down my spine 

I remember your hand in mine, 

and I’m just so afraid.  

You don’t know how long you stand at the kitchen counter, letting the lyrics slip into your ears and down your skin. This song is so raw and vulnerable. You feel the sudden urge to close your eyes. For a moment, you can almost trick yourself into thinking Kaminari is singing to you, that these lyrics are meant for you and you alone. It’s a foolish thought, but you can’t quite push it away. You feel your eyes burning with unshed tears as you try to picture Kaminari writing down these lyrics. What was he feeling, in those moments? Were his eyebrows furrowed in concentration? Were his hands stained from the still-drying ink of his pen? Was he tapping his foot along to an unheard, not-yet-created melody?  

Something blares loudly, tearing you from your reverie. You blink and look around the room, gasping when you realize you completely neglected the pan on the stove. The pan is smoking and you recognize that insufferable sound to be the fire alarm. You’re quick to turn off the burner. The fire isn’t extinguished. Panicking, you race to one of the kitchen cabinets to grab baking soda. Baking soda, quickly , your mind is practically yelling. You grab the baking soda and haphazardly spread it over the grease fire, relief coursing through you when you see the flames begin to die down. When the fire finally subsides, you look down at your attempt at dinner, only to find a charred pile. You shake your head in disbelief and clean up your mess, before grabbing your phone and skipping to the next song. 

You don’t make the mistake of attempting to make dinner as you listen to the rest of the album, which is a rather smart move, because the remaining songs are lyrical masterpieces. There isn’t a single song on the album that you don’t like. A small smile growing on your face, you open your messaging app. 

___________

Direct Message

You: i love the new album holy shit

Kaminari Denki: really?

You: yesssss omfg absolutely 

Kaminari Denki: akjdfkjfskdjfsdlkf

Kaminari Denki: which track is your favorite? for research purposes 

You: research purposes? lol

You: my favorite is definitely traces of you 

Kaminari Denki: ah, that’s one of my favorites, too!

Kaminari Denki: and lemme just say: i’m so happy you listened! it means the world to me, so thank you <3

You: no need to thank me—just doing my due diligence as a friend! besides, the new album is incredible!

You: and i promise i’m not just saying that to be nice,,, it’s clear you put a lot of effort into it. 

Kaminari Denki: ahhh stawp ur gonna make me all flustered xD

You: hahaha

You: i do have one critique, though

Kaminari Denki: ooooh ok i’m listening 👀

You: traces of you needs to come with a warning

Kaminari Denki: for what? shit how did i miss that

You: “warning: will distract you from cooking dinner and nearly burn your home down”

Kaminari Denki: wait

Kaminari Denki: you did notttttt 💀

You: I DID

You: i was so distracted i forgot i was making dinner

Kaminari Denki: omfgggg that’s insane

Kaminari Denki: i’ve heard a lot of things about my music, but never that it almost burned a house down and ruined dinner 😭

You: lmfaooo 

Kaminari Denki: i’m so sorry 😭😭

You: it’s not your fault, holy shit

You: don’t feel guilty!!!! if it makes you feel better, it was completely worth it

Kaminari Denki: hmph 

You: i wasn’t rly that hungry anyways

Kaminari Denki: hm hm hm hm hmmmmmm

You: whatttt

Kaminari Denki: nothing i gtg

Kaminari Denki is offline. 

You: o….kay? …bye?

___________

You exit out of your messaging app and start rummaging through your pantry for something to eat. Nothing sounds very good right now. You don’t have much food left, either—you’re in desperate need of a trip to the grocery store. You’re sure you can make time to go tomorrow, but as for right now… you’re stuck making do with what you have. Truthfully, you’re tempted to order something—but it’s already getting late and you don’t want to wait even longer for a meal when you’re already hungry. 

You walk out into your living room and flop onto the couch, trying to distract yourself from the hunger gnawing at your stomach. Admittedly, your abrupt conversation with Kaminari is weighing heavily on your mind too. You eventually scroll through YouTube mindlessly, if only to keep yourself distracted. You’re not sure how long you sit there before there’s a sudden ringing sound. You frown, wondering if you’re hearing things. 

The sound occurs again, and you realize that someone must be ringing your doorbell. Squinting in confusion, you head to your front door and peek through the peephole—surprised to find a familiar blond singer standing on your porch. You quickly unlock your front door and swing it open. “Kaminari?” you ask, convinced you’re seeing things. You hadn’t made plans to hang out today, and you assumed that your conversation died off because he was busy. 

“Hey,” Kaminari smiles. He’s wearing a sweatshirt and jeans with a pair of colorful sneakers. His bangs are clipped back and his hair is almost glowing in the dim light of your porch. There’s a sheepish smile on his face that is endlessly endearing. “I heard you missed dinner,” he smiles, holding up a few bags of takeout from a restaurant the two of you had spoken about before. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quickly, hoping that you didn’t make him feel as if he had to provide you with dinner. It wasn’t his fault you were distracted. 

“I wanted to,” he says with a smile, dispelling your doubts. “I think I remember your order, but…” he trails off, averting his eyes with an embarrassed expression. “I got a few different things, just in case.”

“I could kiss you,” you breathe relievedly, unaware of the flush that adorns Kaminari’s cheeks as he processes that remark. You motion for him to come in, before locking the front door and showing him to the dining room. You leave him to unbag the food, while you grab plates and utensils. “Do you want anything to drink?” you ask from the kitchen.

“What do you have?” Kaminari asks casually. 

“Water, soda, sparkling water…” you trail off, looking through your fridge for anything else you may have laying around. 

“Water’s fine,” he smiles. You roll your eyes and grab another glass, filling up waters for you both before returning to the table. Kaminari wasn’t kidding when he said he bought a few different things—as it’s all laid out on your table, it looks as if he bought half the menu. You return to the kitchen and grab the plates and utensils you gathered earlier, before heading back. Unsurprisingly, the pile of food on the table doesn’t get any smaller. 

“This is a lot of food,” you remark cautiously. Realistically speaking, there’s no way you’ll be able to finish all of this, and you feel slightly guilty. 

“Oh, yeah,” Kaminari nods, “I figured we would have enough for leftovers, and stuff.” You nod in agreement, before busying yourself with making a plate. 

“So,” you say, once the two of you are settled in and have begun eating. You didn’t realize just how hungry you were until you took a bite of the food. There’s an inexplicable tension hovering over the air, and you’re unsure if you’re imagining it or not. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Kaminari responds with a nod. “Really good,” 

“Good!” you smile, taking another bite. “Are you topping the charts already?”

He smiles bashfully, poking at his food with a fork. “I think so… yeah.” He’s so humble, and you can’t help but think it’s rather admirable. 

“That’s so cool,” you remark, “I’m so happy for you.” 

“Thanks, I’m happy, too,” he smiles briefly, before looking back down at his food. The happiness in his expression almost seems to flicker for a moment, and the grin on his lips suddenly looks strained. You frown. At first, you want to put that sight down to your imagination; but when the silence stretches on for a while and he doesn’t make a move to continue speaking, you decide to acknowledge it. 

“Are you sure?” you blurt out, before you can contemplate the consequences of speaking so freely. Kaminari looks at you in confusion and you grimace. “Sorry. It’s just- You seem a little… off, I guess.”

“I’m good,” he reassures you with a small nod. The gesture is not very convincing. 

“Okay,” you say, not wanting to push him further. If there’s something he doesn’t want to talk about, you’re not going to force it out of him. After a few moments, your conversation returns to normal. You still have a lingering suspicion that there’s something weighing on his mind, but you decide to forget about it. 

Overall, your dinner is pleasant. You get the chance to ask Kaminari a few questions about the album, and you really enjoy seeing his eyes sparkle as he goes into in-depth explanations of the meanings behind his songs. It feels like you’re seeing a side of him that very few people get to see—but you don’t want to flatter yourself. 

Kaminari offers to help you with the dishes when you’re both finished eating, but you quickly refuse and promise him you’ll finish them quickly. You run water over the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher, promising yourself to run it later that night. When you return to the table, you’re surprised to find Kaminari staring ahead with a troubled expression on his face. His hands are clasped on the table and his lips are pulled in a thin line. 

Before you can even begin to ask, he’s filling the silence. “You were right,” Kaminari admits. He sounds a little strange—almost as if he’s nervous. You stare at him expectantly. “There is something bothering me.”

The tortured expression on his face is a bit worrying. “Well, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” You feel the need to remind him. While you’re concerned about what could be distressing him, you know that sometimes, it’s too painful to talk about those types of things. 

But Kaminari surprises you with his response. “I want to,” he reassures you. You watch as he pushes himself to his feet and stares down at the table, running a finger along the wood. “I’ve just… been trying to figure out how to say it.” 

“Take your time,” you say. “I’m not in a rush.” Kaminari nods appreciatively. 

You’re not sure what you’re expecting to hear, in all honesty. But what he says next feels entirely unreal. “When I first met you, I was attracted to you,” Kaminari chokes out, looking at the ceiling as if nervous to meet your eyes. “I sort of expected it to fizzle, because… well, I didn’t know you all that well. But once we started talking more, I realized that my feelings weren’t going away. While I just knew you as the alluring reporter before, I now knew you as this… this incredible person.” You stare at him in shocked silence. 

“You’re so… You’re kind, smart, and passionate. You have a wicked sense of humor and I always look forward to hearing from you. I…

“I’m not sure how familiar you are with me and my career, but… Truthfully, I hit a bit of a rough spot. My last album was a few years ago and I was convinced that I wouldn’t be able to write anything new. But then I met you, and got to know you, and all of a sudden, I was writing all the time. 

“Suddenly, I had an entire album—filled with songs that I wrote while thinking about you. And I didn’t know what to do. I had already tried to bury my feelings for you, and it clearly hadn’t worked at all. I assumed you didn’t feel the same as I did. And I’m still not sure, of course.

“But when you sent those messages earlier… I felt something snap in me. It was like, one moment I was staring down at my phone, and the next, I was walking into that restaurant you were talking about.

“And tonight, I’ve been trying to keep it together… But it’s been nearly fucking impossible. I see you across the table and I can’t help but think that this is how I want to spend the rest of my life—sneaking glances at you, and hearing about your day at work…

“Not to mention, the whole Sero thing… It was stupid. But when you said you liked his music, my heart just dropped. I felt like… I don’t know. I felt like I lost you. Even though you weren’t mine to lose.” 

“Anyway,” Kaminari says, shaking his head before meeting your eyes. He looks simultaneously more relieved and more nervous than before. “I just had to get that out. And now we can pretend I never said anything.” He shakes his head and fiddles with the strings of his hoodie. 

You’re still reeling from everything he just said, but you’re quick to dismiss his assumptions. “What?” you exclaim. “No, Kaminari, I have feelings for you too,” you say. He stares at you with wide eyes. “It’s been so fun getting to know you. You’re just… you’re so bright and energetic, passionate, and good-hearted… I was so nervous when I first met you, because it was my first time ever being on a red carpet… but you made me feel more confident, just by being yourself.”

“And when I got distracted listening to your music earlier… It was because I was thinking of you, and thinking that, somehow, you could be singing just to me. That you could have written that song… just for me. And I know it’s stupid…”

“It’s not stupid,” Kaminari interjects, before you can spiral into further self-deprecation. “I just told you, I was thinking of you when I wrote them. All of them.” The lyrics flicker before your eyes at rapid speed, as you remember all the words that felt too vulnerable to ever be yours. You think about how you felt as you were cooking dinner—that tight feeling in your chest as you pretended that everything was fine, as you pretended that you were okay with the idea of Kaminari writing those songs while thinking of someone else. Before you can contemplate your next move, you’re surging forward—and Kaminari is too. Your hands cradle his cheeks as you kiss him, and he tugs you impossibly closer with his hands on your waist. His touch sends pleasant shivers down your spine. 

“I guess the fans were right, huh,” you remark with amusement once you break apart. 

“There’s a first time for everything,” Kaminari says, his eyes gleaming. He takes a deep breath, his hands still latched on your waist (as if he doesn’t want to let you go). Indecision draws his lips together into a flat line. “Are you sure you want to do this? Being in a relationship with me… It’s going to be different. I— I can’t pretend that I have any privacy whatsoever, or a super accommodating schedule, or—”

“Of course I want to do this,” you immediately say, before he can continue. “More than anything.” 

Kaminari’s hands migrate up your shoulders and towards the nape of your neck. He leans closer until your foreheads are touching. “I’m just so afraid.” He whispers, so quietly that you nearly convince yourself you didn’t hear it. (The stars seem to whisper your name in the air… I feel a shiver roll down my spine, I remember your hand in mine, and I’m just so afraid). You pull him into a hug.  

“Me too,” you admit in a breath against his shoulder. Kaminari mutters something into your shoulder, but it’s incomprehensible. “Hey, if we can get five and a half million people to watch us stumble through an interview, I think we can do this.” The singer huffs a laugh and pulls back, his hand rising to your cheek and his thumb running across your skin. There’s a smile on his face—one of unmistakable fondness and affection. You lean forward to break the distance between you once more, a euphoric feeling settling in your chest and a smile growing on your face.

endnotes:

i really snuck Seroroki in there, mhwhahaha.

this took so fuckin long to format on here (I had to format it AGAIN despite already devoting time to doing that on ao3), pls show some love if you enjoy it... i'm begging

thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat anddd @alex12ander @7heehee7 @the-lurking-await-you since y'all commented on part two

[pascallatte]

It's just Us

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Actress!reader

Summary: Love in Lockdown Part 2, basically a lot more sweet things that happened during quarantine.

Date: May & June 2020

Warnings: none

May

Being put on live on the spot isn’t a thing you’re great at doing. Even if you’re being confronted by friends, you tend to sort of standstill in shock for a few moments before whatever had happened sinks in.

Why is this being talked about? It’s because it is currently what the people who are watching Sarah’s Instagram live with Pedro are seeing right now. You have just entered the car, with a bag and coffee cups in either hand. Dressed up in your most frequent get-up, a shirt and sweats, as well as a mask adorning your face. 

The live was also something Pedro was not ready for but if a friend of yours is on live and you haven’t seen each other since quarantine had started, one can only think of acting before thinking of the outcome.

So here you were, holding the phone and chatting with Sarah while Pedro’s driving the two of you home after deciding to buy from the nearest and only opened coffee shop rather than having it delivered.

“So as I was saying, Olivia a while ago talked about wanting to adopt a pet. How about you? You guys ever think of adopting?” Sarah had asked you again after being interrupted by the car’s horn.

Agreeing with her, “Uh, yeah we have thought of adopting one but never really had the chance to cause y’know, covid happened.” Sipping from the straw before offering some for your Pedro since he kept asking you what you got.

“I see that you guys went on your frequent coffee runs, what are you guys up to ne-” Asking a question again, making you chuckle as you thought that it seems like she was interviewing you two.

“-What’s funny, y/n?” She asked when she saw you chuckle. Only responding with a shake of the head, you composed yourself before answering.

“Nothing’s funny, I'm sorry. I just thought that we look like we’re having an interview with all the questions you’ve asked us already. Um, to answer that too, we don’t really have anything planned nex- well I don’t have anything else to do. Not sure about him though.” You explained before turning the camera to let them see Pedro who was humming a song to himself while waiting for the stoplight to turn green.

Tapping his thigh, he turned to you expectingly. Humming a sound of confusion he looks at you before to the camera.

“Sarah’s asking what you have planned next,” telling him, to let him know what’s up with the live.

Confused, “Next? What do you mean next?” He asked, making Sarah laugh at his expression that was telling everyone he was lost, literally.

“By next, I mean, what do you have planned when you get home, silly,” Sarah said, bursting out laughing, making you laugh as well. A sound of understanding escaped Pedro as he turned to drive again.

Still waiting for an answer from him, you leaned across the armrest between you two to lean on his shoulder. Nudging him a bit making him release a hum.

“I don’t have anything planned to do later so we’ll probably just sleep or watch a movie, like always. Nothing new.” He told Sarah, or rather the whole live as if it was just a normal call with a friend. And in doing so, he takes your free hand in his out of habit before kissing the top of it. This makes you look at him with a smile, before turning the live once again.

“What about you? What’re your plans for the evening?” you asked her wanting to talk more. The back-and-forth questioning continued for about half an hour, before having to leave it due to you arriving at your place.

June

Pedro is known to be a huge Instagram user, and ever since being stuck at home his stories and occasional posts have been dedicated to his muse, you. It’s now become a thing that he and your fans await his so-called three-part story every week because of the amount of fun content he has of you or himself.

It varies from the regular shenanigans you guys do or the more calm ones that he has come to appreciate as time passed by. But in this case, the latter is being posted.

Just like how his videos regularly start, this one started with a close-up of his face. From the looks of it, he looks freshly showered and in bed. Your voice was heard in the background but was faint to be heard clearly.

Glancing in your direction for a second, he gets himself comfortable on the bed before deciding to speak 30 seconds in.

“AHHHH Yeah!” His sudden outburst made you yelp and throw a pillow at him. Pedro smiles before greeting everyone, “Good morning, as you know it’s a Sunday. meaning we can all stay in bed and chill and lounge and sleep and do whatever the fu-oww”. You cut off his cussing with a soft, to you, hit on his bare shoulder.

“No cussing,” you softly said, still out of frame, before continuing whatever you were doing.

“Fine fine, so again it’s a sunday and I don’t have anything to do so come prepared, see you later.”

A few hours later he posted his second story just before afternoon hits. Sitting on the couch has played with some filters you’ve saved on his phone for a bit, still, you weren’t seen but you were heard singing something fans were familiar with but can’t seem to think of what it’s called.

“Hello again, it’s me, Pedro. We’re just about to have lunch, my dearest,” he shows you, finally, who’s behind him preparing in the kitchen, “had prepared a simple comfort food of ours, and I can’t wait.”

He raises the phone and zooms in on you moving around the kitchen, your singing seemed to grow louder as it progresses, unfortunately, you were still unaware of the phone recording you.

“I feel badly, about you, feeling badly about me,” your voice was heard throughout the room making Pedro let out a silent gasp in excitement, but at the same time hinting about something not many would know at that time.

“Y/n…” he whisper shouts at you making your singing slowly end. Now seeing the camera you gawked at it, turning to Pedro who was still sitting on the couch.

Releasing a breath, “yeah?” You asked him, before motioning him to come to the table.

He gives you an all knowing look making you laugh and shake your head, before sitting down on the table.

“I know, I know, now come on or else I’ll finish this shit up.”

“Ooo okay bye,” he quickly says ending the second part.

And since it’s a Sunday, something that had became part of your routine is doing self-care on Sundays. This consisted of having a long bath, cleaning out your things, and the most common one and what you’re currently doing, skincare.

Pedro isn’t the kind of guy who would turn down being soothed, so when you first brought up the thought months ago he agreed immediately. Fast forward to now, and here he was again in your shared bathroom phone angled lower than usual, your hand is seen spreading a mask on his face.

“Okay… it’s nighttime, my next favourite part of our Sunday aside from being able to wake up next to her every morning,” he smoothly says with a smirk. Standing up from where he was sitting, he angles the phone higher to show you in a robe now applying the mask on your face.

“ Y/n’s currently applying this green spread-thing on her face like how she did on mine and I think you’re supposed to leave it on for 15 to 20 minutes or so, before rinsing it off,” he explains after he flips the camera and zooms in on your reflection in the mirror.

“ and while we leave this thing on our faces she often does those things to her hair and occasionally on mine- but I don’t really know why she does it to me but she says it’s to keep my hair “shiny and silky and curly”... Her words not mine,” he teases you pushing the side of your hips with his, making you turn to him, hands on your waist.

“Back to the face spread,” he goes back to explaining, now looking at you directly as you slowly let out a smile as he says all the things you’ve repeatedly told him in the past about the product that you’ve used. Your fond look is clearly seen by the camera and will soon make your fans go wild because of the softness (as they normally say) of the moment.

“ Yeah so that’s about it, here’s to a well-spent Sunday to everyone and remember to take care of yourself,” he flips the camera to himself for the last time and pulls you to his chest making you say goodnight as well.

Taglist: @benonlinear @t-stark355 @heyitsme-2 @elleeeee21 @holmesstrange @tagakalat @flyestvenustrap @oldermenaremyreligion @cherryred444 @hobiismyhopeu @ilovehotdadsandshit @djarinsstuff @guacala @avengersheart @pukka-latte @lilvampirina

[poppypickle]

Half-Finished Fic Fest

So, like most fic writers, I've amassed a bunch of half-written fic drafts over the years. I didn't post them at the time for various reasons -- because they were unfinished or because I thought they tread too familiar territory or because I just didn't feel like it.

But I've decided to post them in all their half-finished glory because what the hell, why not?

I wrote this Dan/Blair ficlet way back in...2012, maybe? Originally I wanted to have five snippets featuring Henry at various ages to show how the relationship between Dan, Blair, and Henry evolved over the years. It was going to be very sweet! But I only finished this first section, which features a seven-year-old Henry. If you're still carrying a torch for Dair, enjoy!

If I could be anywhere, I'd still be here instead 578 words

“Uncle Dan, I need your help.”

Henry Bass marches into the Humphrey-Van der Woodsen loft, a notebook in his arms. Blair’s heels click clack against the wood floor as she follows, her purposeful gait exactly matching her son’s.

Dan laughs, setting his coffee down on the counter before turning to brew another cup for Blair.

“What can I do for you, kiddo?”

Henry climbs up onto a kitchen counter stool. “I have to do a career report.” He pulls a pencil out from his notebook’s spiral ring and flips the notebook open to a blank page.

“Henry’s teacher has asked the children to interview someone about what they do for a living,” Blair clarifies, setting her purse down on the kitchen counter. “I told him that Uncle Nate was a better choice, but for some reason he’s chosen you, Humphrey.”

Dan pours the coffee into a mug and wordlessly hands it to Blair along with the sugar bowl. “And you didn’t want to ask your parents or Aunt Serena?”

“It can’t be our parents and my mom says ‘influencer’ isn’t a real job,” Henry shrugs.

“Henry! That was a private conversation.” Blair turns to look around the apartment. “Where is Serena anyway?”

“Budapest?” Dan stops to think. “No wait, maybe Bruges?”

Blair rolls her eyes and pulls out her phone. “It’s Budapest,” she confirms, turning the phone to show Dan his wife’s latest Instagram post.

“I picked you because I wanted to, Uncle Dan,” Henry interrupts, his pencil still poised above the paper. “Because I like writing stories too.”

Dan stops and smiles. “That’s amazing. I would love to read one of your stories one day, Henry.”

“Maybe. If you agree to let me interview you for my report,” Henry says, jutting his little hand out expectantly.

Dan laughs. “It’s a deal,” he says, shaking Henry’s hand. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re just like your mom?” Blair rolls her eyes, but hides her smile behind the coffee mug.

“Only everyone,” Henry scoffs. “Okay, enough chit chat. First question: When did you know you wanted to be a writer?”

“When I was eight years old I entered a story contest at the library and won. Then I just kept writing and writing.”

Henry scribbles the answer down, his tongue poking out from between his lips as he concentrates. “Okay, how many books have you written and what was your first book about?”

“Four books, and….” Dan hesitates, then looks at Blair with a question in his eyes.

“His first book was about me,” Blair says matter-of-factly. “I was an early muse,” she continues, leaning over her son’s notebook to watch him carefully write the answer down. “M-u-s-e.”

Henry quirks an eyebrow up. “Really?”

Dan meets Blair’s eyes over Henry’s head. “It was a really long time ago. Before you were even born.”

Henry looks between the two of them for a moment, then shrugs. “Yeah, you guys ARE really old.”

Blair sputters out a cross between a scoff and a gasp, while Dan just laughs heartily.

“Can we get back to my report now?” Henry sighs after a moment. “I have a few more questions.”

“How many?”

“20.”

Dan’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline.

“I suppose you had better make waffles, Humphrey.” Blair says, setting herself down daintily on the counter stool next to Henry. “Sounds like we’re going to be here awhile.”

Dan smiles and pulls a bowl out from a cabinet. “Blueberry or chocolate chip?”

[popcornforone]

The Interview

Part of the Attending Mr York Fan Fic Series

Master list

I just couldn’t put the Dave I created down. You got the last chapter in April of the original story but I actually finished writing it in March, & I missed him & the little world I created for them. So here I am back with my Stabby… ready for more fun.

Synopsis: You’ve applied for a housekeeper & Nanny job that you know you won’t get, but the perks & money were to tempting to not go for. So your shocked when your asked to come & be interviewed at the York residence, & meet the family who’s needs you will be attending.

Word count: 3200

Warnings: this is tame for me & Dave. Swearing & alcohol, pining, imagining what Dave might do to you, descriptions of oral sex are mentioned, along with blood, cuts, injuries & sick.This is the first time you come across Dave so it’s rather soft. However the rest of the series won’t be & as always DAVE YORK COMES WITH HIS OWN WARNING!

Thanks as always for the read people, all feedback is always welcome

Job interviews are never the easiest thing in the world, for a normal job. You never know if the vibe is going to click & if you will just get on, & be the person they are looking for. However this interview is one that you don’t think you will get, not in 100 years. You’re not really qualified for it but the perks that come with the job are most intriguing & you knew it was too good an opportunity to miss out on applying for. You were shocked when you got a phone call from them to say they wanted to speak to you. Obviously The Yorks have seen a quality in your cv that they think will suit this role.

Finding The York residency is easy. Considering what they want & how on the application they have described their lives, you thought they would have a much grander house in a much more affluent area. But here you are on a Wednesday afternoon, pulling up across their drive looking at this family home, which doesn’t look like it’s rather special but does seem homely from the outside. You make sure your hair is okay & that your outfit isn’t creased. You’ve worn a day dress but one that’s easy to move about in, if they tell you to go & interact with their kids. After all this is a job for a Nanny & House Keeper, surly whatever kids they have, must like you if your to get the job, not that you think you stand any chance of getting it at all.

You hear the doorbell echo across the house as you press it & wait patiently for someone to greet you, admiring the pot plants by the path. The front door opens & you are greeted by name “welcome, im Carol, we spoke on the phone last week, thank you for coming to listen to us” she says as she welcomes you in & you shake her hand. “My husband is just finishing a phone call but he will join us shortly, come with me to the kitchen, would you like water, tea or coffee?” Mrs York asks ushering you in & taking your coat. The house is homely but there’s no art on the wall, everything is very clean & white & in its right place. Clearly Mrs York likes this, it’s all very to the point & perfect. Until you get to the kitchen.

It’s a grand kitchen. A walk in pantry, an island counter with low lights hanging down, perfect for entertaining, a little kids play area a few steps down, a sofa & a round table which you can tell has been cleaned for this chat today. It’s too clean. This is clearly where their life happens & you suddenly feel very at home in this room. This is where memories are made for the Yorks. You watch as Carol makes you coffee & just have a nice chat about your drive & the weekend thats been & the next one to come.

“Sorry darling, you know how Daniels gets in the phone” a voice bellows from behind you which came from nowhere. It’s deep & sharp & you turn around to introduce yourself & shake his hand, but instead you almost drop your coffee cup. You’re frozen to the spot. You don’t believe in love at first sight, but you now think lust at first touch might be true. Large & broad, towering above you. His eyes dancing across you looking for any hit of weakness & vulnerability. His light blue shirt & dark pants are crisp, that belt buckle is polished & shoes so shiny you could see your face in them. Those eyes that are giving you the once over, are dark pools of delight. Rich caramels, taking in every inch of his prospective house keeper. Clean shaven as his large hand goes around his neck into this thick dark short hair. Those lips probably smile & seduce but the sternness in his face makes you think they haven’t smiled in a while. He has a mysterious aura around him, one of danger & to not get too close. But you can’t help it, the second his hand firmly shakes yours, you are his. It doesn’t matter his wife is standing next to you answering him back, you’re transfixed on her husband & you need to snap out of the trance quickly. “I’m Mr York… David York”

The next few minutes are a blur, watching this powerful man, who has somehow in all of 5 words, got all the power in the world over you. You’d do anything for this man, & you have only met him for a few minutes. The way he hold his mug, that chiseled jaw extending, the way he slurps his coffee. Seeing his lips kiss his wife’s cheek, you feel jealous. & that’s what makes you snap out of your trance, that & Carols voice asking you “come sit down deary, we can then go though your cv together.” You remember where you are & you join Mr & Mrs York at the circular table to discuss why you are even a candidates for this job. This does mean facing David & making eye contract as you answer his questions. Maybe you can just focus on Carol, not that you think you can actually concentrate on anything at all.

You take your seat ready for their questions. You look nervous but you can easily pass it on for interview nerves, not the fact that the man sitting opposite you is stunningly handsome & that you are wondering how good his plump lips would feel on your pussy, lapping away at your clit as you beg him for more. You need to remember why you are here, for an interview, not to gawp at your possible employer.

“So…” Carols starts with some pretty mundane questions about your back ground & education, all the old chestnuts from a classic interview. You answer them well & you see David roll his eyes a little at them. At question 5 he interjects.

“Why apply for this role?” He asks “clearly your into art, graphics & design, your cv screams it, why apply to be a house keeper?” He has a very good point & it throws you a little bit, but you have a prepared answer which probably isn’t one that they will appreciate but is honest.

“The job said beck & call but free time & support whenever it’s needed. Most normal jobs want a 8:30 to 6 that I apply for. Once you add a commute & eating in, that’s no home time. Here you have said weekends & yea there are early starts but you said support in whatever else I need. I’m sure that there will be days you just need me to pick your kids up & do dinner & some days when you need me to stay over, but I’m sure that when I’m not needed I would have the time to create some art, get my creative juices flowing again. I also think it would be good for your kids if you allowed them, to join me working on my art. A good creative outlet from them, let them find another type of inspiration.” David looks inquisitively at you looking you up & down “I know that wasn’t the answer you wanted, but I’m honest & im here to support you. I want to make sure that when I’m here, all you need to stress about is what’s going on in your own mind, not a grocery run or cooking pasta or running errands. I want you to stress about just your work & normal life like the rest of the world does” that’s when you see a small smirk across David’s face as you finish this statement with “I’m here for all your needs & to attend to you all”. His eyes dart across you not impressed just by your words but by your attitude & willingness.

“Art?” Carol chirps up before he can respond, he mouth & sentence hanging in mid air before he could even get the words out “that would be good for the kids for sure” she then talks about how she like minimal art but can’t find the right thing for the house to put up. A few more mundane questions happen before David then asks “Do you have first aid or life saving courses under your belt? Obviously with 2 small girls who you will meet another day, if we think you’re suitable, bumps & bruises happen all the time. You’re okay with looking after them if they cut themselves? you’re not going to freak out at a bit of sick or blood?” David is asking this because it’s part of the interview, but he knows it’s likely at some point you will find out what he does for a living. He’s an assassin, one of the best in the world, & he knows there maybe a day soon when he needs your help to stitch him up or take him to hospital.

“Yes I can do that, I have a friend who has fits, we as a group all make sure we stay up to date with as much as we can. I’m happy to take more courses if you need me too.” Is your reply. Firm & confident. You know it’s been a while since you’ve done a course in this but you still know what to do. Nothing your innocent king think, that an ice pack or a plaster can’t solve.

The interview starts to draw to a close & they start talking to you about your life in general. “Obviously there maybe a few days when we need you to stay over if you get this job to take the girls to nursery & school early if were not both back, or if you’ve stayed late” Carol implys “would that be okay? Are you comfortable with that? We have Cctv in every room so you will always be safe here without us”

“Yes Mrs York” your mind wonders why they have cctv but that’s a question for another day, not one when your trying to get a job “would my boyfriend be able to stay over, if I needed him too? It wouldn’t be something I would do until we were all completely comfortable with each other & you trust me & id let you meet him first” David raises an eyebrow when the word boyfriend is brought up “how serious is your boyfriend?” He asks “David!” Carol scoffs & playfully hits him “that’s none of your business” she say before he reply “if he’s a serious man in her life, I see there being no problem, stability means loyalty & trust, but if he’s just a fuck buddy then that raises more questions for me” you look a bit shocked. You’ve never been to an interview before where the interviewer has sworn let alone use the word fuck. He clearly is testing you to get a reaction from you. “I’ve been with him 18months” you reply calmly like you have done every question. “Harry & I have talked about moving in together soon, so that’s how loyal I am” David nods “well answered” he states writing the word not available on his own notes, which you don’t see.

The final question they ask you is if you have any questions for them at this stage. They have been clear throughout the interview that there would be a second interview with the girls on Sunday, if today went well to see how you get on with them & they have been very frank about what they expect from you. You sit there for a second & then ask something bold, which might mean you don’t get a call back for another day. “why interview me? You said yourself I’m not a house keeper or have nanny experience, why ask me?” Carol has a small chuckle & goes to answer but David buts in.

“We’ve interviewed 4 other people before you, all Nanny’s or house keeper, but none had any idea of what the real world is. We want our kids to have some of that in their lives & your CV was the next one on the pile. You have life experience & from what you’ve told us about you today, you have had some struggles in the past & you just bring across this soothing calm approach now we’ve met you, don’t you agree darling?” He asks his wife stroking her hand looking lovingly at her “yes dear” she says “we wanted to see what the rest of the world offered, not just those that fall into that bracket” you all just nod in agreement with each other. There is a very strong vibe & connection here & you think that maybe you do stand a chance, just as long as you connect with those girls. Or maybe you are just falling deeper for the talk dark & handsome man sitting opposite you. Each time those large rich brown eyes glance at you, you feel seen.

The Yorks then finish up & David looks at his phone. Carol shakes your hand & asks if you’re free at 3pm on Sunday to meet the girls & have early dinner with them, which you accept. You have a second interview in the bag. David nods. “I’ll walk her out honey, I need to make my way to the actual office” David says & you thank Carol, grab your coat & have David walk you out of the house. His hand pushes you forward touching the lower of your back. Not to low but enough to make you blush, but enough that to yourself it shows that this man has an effect on you. Thank god you are walking in front of him & he can’t see the true effect he has on you.

“I just want you to know…” David says as he locks the front door behind him & stands next to his car “that we’ve been looking for a house keeper for a while & a nanny more recently. Carol has hired some but most of them just aren’t what they say they are at the interview. You on the other hand, there’s something about you. Your normal & I think you will bring stability to our house & help influence our kids as they grow as well. I don’t tend to trust people, my line of work doesn’t allow me to, but there’s something I can see in you, that makes me know that I can trust you with my families & my own life.” He states.

“Wow Mr York” you’re a little stunned at that revelation “that means something that you’ve picked that up so quickly, thank you”

“Please it’s David, I actually prefer Dave but David or Mr York is fine” he says shuffling a bit. “I’m good at picking up on peoples strengths & weaknesses it’s part of the job I do, & from the last hour, the only weakness I see in you, is that you care too much & that’s what I need for my family” you blush as he says these words to you. No one’s ever said that a weakness of yours is what they need. This desirable man has a way of making you feel so much in so few words. He’s very to the point & direct. You can tell he’s a man who gets what he wants, no matter what.

A few awkward moments of silence happen between you before you both snap out of it. Daves been thinking about how well you’re going to look after his family. He finds you attractive & wonders how loyal & good your boyfriend really is to you & if he might, one day, be needed to pick up your emotional pieces should it all go wrong with him. “I should really get going now Mr York & you said you needed to get to your own office, so please don’t let me keep you” you offer you hand which he firmly shakes & through that connection of his large palm on your dainty hand, a small soft smile comes from his dark brown eyes. “Thank you for the opportunity” you say “ooh no the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart” he responds. That cute nickname makes you smile which he can see as bright as the sun. “I’m already looking forward to seeing you meet the girls on Sunday, im sure you will be the most attentive person we’ve had so far, I can just feel it in my bones.” He says, hands parting & you both sigh & get in your separate cars. You head home & Dave heads to the office.

1 week, later the phone rings while your out for lunch with friends. “Sorry guys, be back in 3minutes” you leave them & head to the bathroom of the cafe to take the call.

“Hello”

“Ahh it’s Mr York”

“Mr York… hi how are you?” Just his voice down the phone has you feeling flush & warm, how can he do that.

“I’m even better now, I’ve just hired a new house keeper”

Your face drops down the phone.

“It’s you”

“What!?” You let out an over the top excited screech

“All the girls have talked about since Sunday, has been making art & playing with you & your pasta was half decent on Sunday night, so what do you say… are you free tonight to come & see us to sign & be our house keeper & nanny & discus when you will start?” He asks, he himself is also excited to have you work for him. He’s not lying when he says how excited the girls have been, but he is drawn to you & he can’t explain why.

“Yes Mr York, what time?” You just about get the word out.

“7pm, don’t worry it’s Wednesday, I cook on Wednesdays, you’ll always have that night off from cooking” he laughs a little down the phone.

“Sounds perfect Mr York, I will see you tonight”

Once the call is over, you rush back to your friends & tell them you got the job. Suddenly the orange juices you were all having are now Buck’s Fizz as your friends celebrate your new job with you. “To attending the needs of the Yorks” you toast & your friends cheer. You have no idea exactly what needs you are about to attend, ignorance for now is completely bliss & will remain that way for a little while.

[ipsen]

Blank Canvas

Second longfic for EtoKen. No Ghouls AU. Relatively modern.

I couldn’t take it anymore; it was either the Root A fic or this one, and after reading Tokyo (which you should read btw), I made my choice.

Cross-posted on AO3. Hope I finish this one.

Summary: By some miracle, Ken Kaneki— also known as the online artist Haise Sasaki— is hired to work on the next work and first graphic novel of Sen Takatsuki, his favorite author and a controversial figure in larger society. He’s honored, of course, and very excited, but between storyboarding the next page, strange government conspiracies, and the even stranger chemistry he has with Takatsuki, well… He hopes he isn’t in over his head.

Chapter 2 Master Post

Chapter 1: Interview, Not Date

It was supposed to just be another outing at Anteiku with Hide. Just coffee, some pastries, and a nice, relaxing afternoon sun in the spring. It was not supposed to be the day that Kaneki found out Hide had secured him a meeting to possibly work with Sen Takatsuki on her next work.

Sen Takatsuki, the famous (or infamous, depending on who you asked) horror/tragedy/social justice writer that pried apart the government’s faults as easily as Kaneki pulled his calves when Touka made him run with her.

“Listen, Kaneki,” Hide said, chewing on the stirring straw like a toothpick, “if it makes you feel better, it’s an interview, not a date. With her editor.”

It didn’t. “Thanks, Hide…”

Hide arched his brow. He sighed and leaned forward, palms on the table to take up as much of Kaneki’s vision as possible. “Dude, you’ll be fine. Worst case, you already know Mr. Yoshimura’s down to take you back if it doesn’t work out; you’ve got a safety net, so go for it!”

And Kaneki was grateful for that. The safety net. He was just… The thought of blowing this (because he probably would), then having to go back to brewing coffee and being asked unwanted questions for the rest of his life… Not that he was complaining; there were people far worse off than he was— he shouldn’t be insensitive— but…

“I know,” he mumbled. “I do…”

There was a guilty emotion welling up within him. He shouldn’t think badly of Anteiku, even after— Well, he knew he wasn’t exactly high quality material, anyway, and the staff were nice. Kaya had been especially kind, as someone who had gone through a similar situation. Sometimes people were just incompatible, even if they had a lot in common.

And to think of Anteiku as the reason for… that … would be hypocritical. If he extended the guilt and bitterness to everything associated with it, then he’d be required to blow this interview. He’d have to cut Sen Takatsuki’s works out of his life, and at the thought of that, he just couldn’t do it.

Those books had taught him that his struggles weren’t unique to him. They told him he wasn’t the one at fault; rather, it was the faults of the world that made it so.

This world was wrong. And there was solace in that fact.

“Listen,” Hide repeated, getting Kaneki’s attention. “Mr. Shiono seems like a nice guy. We had a good chat over the phone, and when we met up for real, I brought a small sample of your art for him to look at.”

Kaneki braced for impact.

“And… he liked it!” Hide gave a thumbs up and a grin. “We even got your interview settled straight away!”

Kaneki let out the breath meant to be a cushion. Relief flooded him. He was making progress. But, at the same time—

“I still don’t know about this,” he forced himself to admit out loud. “I mean, I don’t even have credentials besides what I’ve posted! I don’t know the first thing about working in the comic industry! I don’t know anything!”

“And you’ll never know unless you start going for things!” Hide countered, unbearably correct about that. “So chin up, bud! Worst case scenario, I find you something new to work on, or life goes back to how it’s been. No biggie.”

‘How life has been’: Hide paying all the rent behind Kaneki’s back, basically making Kaneki a twenty-two-year-old freeloader wannabe comic artist who did little else but read books and doodle out his feelings. He posted some of those feelings online as the anonymous Haise Sasaki, but only the ones he thought would get him the least amount of flack.

And, for the most part, it worked. He got some commissions, he became brave enough to post some of his comics, and generally speaking, it wasn’t all bad. People seemed to like what he had to offer.

However, it wasn’t sustainable, hence the job at Anteiku (Touka was the other person always saving him; bless her and curse him) and the apartment with Hide, which were both already more than he deserved. And yet…

Art was just so useless compared to what they did. Hide, a freelance translator, spoke four languages (that Kaneki knew of) and got gigs all across the globe and could work from home. Meanwhile, Touka was applying to med school to become a doctor to save people. As if working at the Apes and Dobers nonprofit and Anteiku wasn’t enough!

Meanwhile, Kaneki made pictures that got flushed down the drain as soon as he finished them. As Haise, he would labor for hours— sketching, lining, coloring, rendering— only for people to glance at it for five seconds before moving on with their day. The price of his commissions didn’t meet minimum wage, either, so it was basically hobby money. He was such a—

“Hey, Kaneki.” Hide snapped his fingers in front of Kaneki’s face to get his attention. “Eyes up here, pal.”

It was enough to keep him from spiraling. “O-Oh, sorry.”

“Look, this Takatsuki’s your idol, right?”

An understatement. The spark of hope that he felt reading Dear Kafka for the first time, the spark that told him that he wasn’t alone in feeling the way he felt, was something he’d never forget. “Uh, more or less, yeah…”

“And you really, really like her work, right?”

He shifted in his seat. “I-I do, but—”

“Then that settles it, right?” Hide downed the rest of his coffee before continuing. “You should go!”

But Kaneki wasn’t nearly good enough to—

“You should go, Kaneki.” A fresh plate of Yoriko’s famous pastries placed itself in front of him. “It’s your passion, isn’t it?”

He glanced up, and swallowed. “T-Touka…”

He really appreciated the weight of her words despite their brevity, even if that weight sometimes struck him in the face (literally, too, in the case of their judo classes).

He bobbed his head after a moment. “Yeah, it is. I… I really want this job.”

“See? I’m always right.” Hide laughed.

Kaneki cleared his throat, wiping his hands on his pants. “Um, Touka, is Mr. Yoshimura here today?”

She thought for a moment. “Not… right now, no, but I can take a message.”

Kaneki shook his head. “N-No, that’s okay! I’ll tell him when I see him next.” He then stood up. “I… I’m gonna do it. I’ll go and see Mr. Shiono.”

“Huzzah!” Hide threw up his hands in celebration. “You’ll do great, man! Promise!”

————

The thing about Hide’s promises was that they were either kept to the letter, or they fell apart miserably.

Kaneki didn’t like his odds so far.

The night before the interview, he did not sleep. He stared at his phone in bed, sketched feverishly under lamplight, and paced about the room, too nervous to close his eyes. He was totally gonna botch this. He didn’t know how, he didn’t know why, he didn’t know when, he just knew it was going to happen somehow, and there was nothing he could do about it.

That said, he, somehow, stumbled through the little coffee shop door ten minutes early, clutching his bag containing his portfolio like his life depended on it. Because, in a way, it did; if he let go of it, he’d lose his grip on his consciousness too and collapse in a heap from exhaustion.

He glanced about the small shop, at the tables he could count on his fingers, and realized it was empty. That was good. Crossing the length of the shop, he gave an apologetic wave to the lone barista and took a seat by the window. Hopefully, it was tinted enough so that when he saw Mr. Shiono through it, it wouldn’t look like he was staring rudely. He couldn’t get points docked before the meeting even began.

Kaneki glanced at the barista again. Should he order something? That might be rude… Maybe when Mr. Shiono arrived, he could get them both something. And pay. That was the most important part. It was only fair; paying for a chance at working with the Sen Takatsuki. Oh, but he was kinda hungry. He shouldn’t.

Grrrr…

He really shouldn’t.

It was time for the meeting. He ended up not ordering anything, too nervous after hitting the five minute mark.

No sight of Mr. Shiono. Or anyone, for that matter. This place was really out of the way, wasn’t it? Then again, it was during work hours on a Tuesday morning.

Kaneki tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes. No dice. He rubbed his eyes this time. Nope. He slapped his cheeks. Still nothing. He slapped harder, and it made an embarrassing noise. The barista gave him a weird look, and he put hands down in an instant.

No more noises.

Ten minutes late. He hadn’t been stood up, had he? Then again, Haise wasn’t exactly a well-known artist, not by a long shot. No work displayed in a museum, no high-profile projects to his name, nothing. Absolutely zero.

He’d been stood up.

His eyes stung a bit.

It was fine.

His nose got a bit stuffy.

At least he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. But it reminded him of that. Not even a text or a call. Rize just… blocked his number and disappeared from his life. Like he was just a pitstop, or worse, a stepping stone. Good riddance, Touka had said at the time, and in hindsight, she was right (she usually was), but an explanation would’ve been nice. Closure, and all that.

He shuddered. He should go home; he’d wasted enough time. Oh, but he was tired. The shop was empty; it couldn’t hurt to get some shuteye. Twenty minutes; that was a power nap. Twenty minutes was all he… needed…

…

“Hello~”

Was that someone’s voice? Maybe it was the barista’s… He’d caused enough trouble just stalking their tables… He really was such a—

“Psst, hey!”

Kaneki’s eyelids slowly lifted at the additional prodding, and he saw a blurry someone in front of him, waving their hand in front of his face.

“Ken Kaneki, right?”

“Huh…? Oh, um…” He sat up and rubbed his eyes with a yawn. “Yeah…”

“Great!” The person took the seat across from him, then immediately shot back up. “Oh, have you ordered anything yet?”

Who… was this…? Kaneki’s vision started clearing up, and he made out features.

Fern colored hair, like grass in a tranquil meadow, dressed in a messy bun. Large, round glasses that magnified verdant eyes. An unbuttoned cyan blazer with a white shirt beneath, and a burgundy floral-patterned skirt. Pretty face… Familiar face.

Wait.

Familiar face.

Kaneki blinked more sleep out of his eyes, the memory of a photograph rising to the front of his consciousness.

No.

The familiar figure giggled. “You awake now?”

No, no, no.

The person’s eyes looked him up and down, then tapped their mouth. “You’ve, uh, got some drool there. Do you suffer from sleep apnea? Insomnia, maybe? I can never remember…”

Please no.

His stomach dropped out of his abdomen and onto the floor as he wiped his mouth to keep his jaw from doing the same.

In front of him was not Shunji Shiono, Sen Takatsuki’s longtime editor, but Sen Takatsuki herself. The Sen Takatsuki. Here, now less than a meter away. In front of him. Talking to him. Ken Kaneki, the nobody. The freeloader. Moocher supreme. King of being a—

“So… Have you ordered anything?” Sen Takatsuki asked, smiling. Oh, she was even prettier in person; that wasn’t good. “I’ll pay; it’s the least I can do for making you come here.”

He found that he could no longer form words. What was she doing here? Wait, rewind, actually: where was Mr. Shiono? Had something happened, forcing her to come here? Was it his fault? Was—

“Shiono’s back at the office, doing his thing,” she said, as though his thoughts were words on a page. “Sorry for surprising you; I know you were expecting him instead.”

By the grace of what could only be described as a higher being, Kaneki managed to nod. She was so close he could just reach out and touch her. He wouldn’t— that was weird— but that was how close she was. And it wasn’t just that; there were slight imperfections in her being that no camera could capture, such as the light sprinkle of freckles on her cheeks, the cracks in her surprisingly chapped lips, and the reflection of her fingerprints on her glasses.

Only an artist could intentionally capture those things, and Kaneki, despite his inadequacy, wanted to be that artist. He wanted to draw Sen Takatsuki.

He shouldn’t, though. That’d be weird. Maybe in private, though…

He must have been lost in his thoughts too long, because she left him for the counter. “Two coffees,” she said, fishing out her wallet. “One iced and…” She turned around and glanced up at him.

Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Don’t mess this up. Game face. “U-Uh, black coffee!” he called feebly.

Fortunately, she seemed to hear him. “And a black coffee. Thanks!”

There was a weird mix of shame and embarrassment boiling in his stomach. Sen Takatsuki had ordered coffee for him, but Sen Takatsuki had ordered coffee for him. It should be him up there, not the other way around. But if he said something now, it’d just turn awkward. Best to keep his mouth shut.

She slid back into the seat across from him. “I also wanna say sorry for making you wait; I slept in, thinking it was just another day! Silly old me…”

Kaneki opened his mouth to speak, but only a hoarse noise came out. He smiled and shook his head to buy time. He somehow said, “I-It’s fine…” without puking.

“It’s totally unprofessional, is what it is!” She combed her fingers through her hair, grasping the strands with her eyes screwed shut. She sighed, then looked him directly in the eyes. “Better late than never, though. Ready to get started?”

No, but… If he waited until he could say yes, he’d end up dead first. So he just nodded, hoping it was enough.

“Great!” She reached into her bag and took out a few papers— he recognized one of them as Hide’s resume made for him— scanning them. “So… Ken Kaneki. Graduated from Kamii with a BA in Art and minor in literature… No experience thus far with the industry—” Kaneki’s face heated up at that fact— “but has been drawing for several years… How long is several years?”

He forced out an answer. “U-Um… Since I was a child. I was, uh, seven…? No, eight! I was eight.”

“And how old are you now?”

“I’m, um, turning twenty-three at the end of the year.”

“I see, I see…” She smiled. “And you didn’t go to art school?”

“N-No…”

“Why?”

Kaneki couldn’t say it was because he couldn’t afford it; Hide and his family were generous enough to offer to fund the entire thing, and a scholarship wasn’t out of the question either. But reading some of the horror stories about some of the schools— Kaneki figured he was better off without them. And, on his good days, it proved to be true.

“It just wasn’t a good fit for me…” he mumbled, scratching his chin idly. “A-And I learned just fine without it.”

She hummed, eyeing him. “Interesting…”

Was that a good or a bad thing? He couldn’t tell.

“So, the job.” She cleared her throat and put his resume away. “I’m looking for a comic artist to tell the story for my next work. I’ve tried going about with my usual process, but the words aren’t sticking to the page, if you know what I mean.”

She looked at him now, pausing. Oh, that meant he should probably respond. Okay. “So…” he began, trying to collect his thoughts. “You’re saying that prose isn’t enough. You need artwork to supplement it, to the point it becomes a graphic novel…?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, that’s about it,” she said, smiling. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

He returned the gesture, smiling hesitantly back. He seemed to be doing well. Either that, or she was just trying to make him feel better.

“Alright, next question: Kaneki, do you know about substitute prisons?”

Kaneki reeled at the sudden change in subject. What? Then again, she was Sen Takatsuki. He probably should’ve expected that she’d ask this.

“The facilities meant to supplement regular prison cells , right?” he replied, and judging by the way her smile widened, she was pleased. Great! He continued. “Was… that your inspiration for The Hanged Man’s MacGuffin? ”

That was her latest release, now almost three years ago, to great criticism, as was typical of her novels. This was due to how it antagonized Japan’s public prison system and sympathized with the fictional inmates of the story, despite their horrible crimes. Most of the profits generated by the novel had also gone to mental health facilities, specifically ones that were against mass incarceration.

She was still staring at him, waiting for him to continue and still smiling. Right, here goes nothing.

“I-I noticed how there was a lot of focus not on the crimes the prisoners committed, but rather the conditions of their cell and lifestyle as a result of that vague crime. It was like you were asking the reader: ‘To what extent should a person answer for their past in the present?’ And, and then—”

He stopped, realizing that he was staring at his hands as he talked. His gaze flicked up toward Takatsuki; she had her chin nestled between laced fingers. As he studied her a bit closer, he noticed that her brows were raised just a bit higher, suggesting amusement— no, it was boredom, because honestly, who would listen to him say anything? Him and his big mouth, why did he let himself go again?

“I-I’m sorry,” he said, a nervous laugh failing to calm his nerves. “I’m taking up all the air in the room!” As usual.

“Don’t be!” She grinned at him now. “You’ve thought about this a lot; that’s good, and I enjoy hearing you speak.”

She… She did? She wasn’t lying, was she? He swallowed, and at that moment, their drinks arrived.

“It’s refreshing to hear someone who knows what they’re talking about for once.” She chuckled, taking a sip with the provided straw. “For example, a lot of people read my work, but they don’t really read it.”

Kaneki blinked, as the feeling of hoards of ignorant online comments flooded his memory bank. People who misinterpreted his work, taking away a worse message than he intended. He didn’t mind the ones that took away something good but different, but there were some that were just… malignant. And it was those ones that he hated the most.

“I-I understand what you mean,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “Sometimes it feels like people intentionally hate my artwork for no substantial reason other than the fact that it isn’t for them. And then they have the audacity to say it to my face in the most venomous way possible. It makes me— I just want to—”

“Scream?” she supplied, and he watched as her eyes shone.

“Yes,” he said, hoping his smile was enough to match hers. “Scream.”

Takatsuki jotted something down on one of the papers with a pen, and for some reason, it didn’t make him nervous. This was a lot easier than he thought it would be; he didn’t want to be too presumptuous, but he felt like a meeting with Mr. Shiono wouldn’t have gone half as well.

“This might be a bit of a redundant question now, but: how familiar are you with my work?”

His confidence built, he answered quicker this time. “I’ve been reading your work since Dear Kafka. I’ve gone through everything at least twice now: your short stories, your novels— everything.” He took a breath; this was probably his only chance. “I, um, actually had a question, if you don’t mind?”

Her eyes glimmered, and his drawing hand itched. “Ask away,” she said.

“In The Hanged Man’s MacGuffin, you wrote the warden, Kimio Ohta, as a cruel man who tortured the prisoners for no substantial purpose, but, um…” Come on, Kaneki; you can do this. “When I was reading his scenes, I did some cross-referencing, and… He’s Detective Tanizaki’s uncle, right? In Salt and Opium?”

And for the first time, he watched her blink in surprise. There was a long stretch of silence then, and he started to wonder if he’d accidentally offended her. He didn’t think he said anything outlandish— Ohta and Tanizaki’s timelines and family trees matched up perfectly to him— but maybe it was another case of gross misinterpretation.

“Yes,” she said finally, and his doubts were dispelled. “Yes, he is. You actually caught that?”

Kaneki nodded meekly.

“Wow…” There was a different kind of smile on her then. Something a little softer. More genuine. “That’s impressive, Kaneki. You’ve impressed me.” She took another sip of her drink. “You brought a portfolio for me to sample, I imagine. May I?”

He nodded again, and fumbled for the portfolio. For the second time, he was grateful he wasn’t handing it to Shiono, because he’d actually organized a portfolio of much more personal work this time. As Haise, he sanitized his public gallery for fear of being too vulnerable online. People would take pity on him or laugh at him, and he didn’t want either of those things.

But for the chance to work with Sen Takatsuki, and the chance to finally start making comics on a larger scale… Wounds had to bleed before they could heal. So he picked what he believed to be his best work, regardless of social expectations, and slipped them into the folder.

The portfolio, full of his hopes, dreams, and despair, crossed the table into her hands and sealed his fate.

Kaneki felt… confident. He was confident. Okay, maybe not that confident, but if Hide and Touka could believe in him, then maybe it was okay to believe in himself. At least for a little while.

Takatsuki, meanwhile, was ignorant to his storm of thoughts, her gaze settled on the work. He watched her with bated breath as she looked. Surprisingly, she hovered over each piece for a while, fully taking it in before deciding when to move on. Every now and then, she would hover over a work longer than others, and he crossed his fingers that that was a good thing.

She reached the last piece. He remembered what it was: a man underwater trying to swim to the surface, but he was being dragged back down by thousands of bodies wearing his face. The idea of her being the first person to see it made him nervous, and it didn’t help that she lingered on it the longest.

“This is incredible,” she said suddenly. “You’re incredibly skilled, Haise.”

He tried not to gasp. Or worse, sob on the spot. Skilled, he repeated internally. Not talented, but skilled. He’d never heard his work called that before. It was a subtle alteration that conveyed the same compliment, but it meant all the difference. It meant she acknowledged the hard work it took to get where he was, not anything pertaining to his biology or innate sense for art. He should’ve expected her to use the right word, given her profession, but hearing it out loud was completely different from—

Wait. Haise? She’d called him—

“Sorry.” She giggled, once again reading his thoughts like a book. “I couldn’t help myself.”

His tongue turned to lead, all the joy at being praised evacuating his system to be replaced with dread. “H-H-How, how—”

“The truth is, I’ve been following your work for a long time.” She closed the portfolio carefully. “That's why I wanted to meet with you myself; after Shiono showed me the sample your friend brought, I just had to come instead.”

He gaped. Sen Takatsuki knew his art. Sen Takatsuki read his comics. Sen Takatsuki followed him. Sen Takatsuki—

“To think, Haise Sasaki would be in front of me in the flesh!” She laughed, carefully handing him his portfolio with both hands. “I’m so flattered.”

Flattered? “Y-Yeah, imagine that…” Kaneki laughed nervously back.

“Now, if you’ll allow me to return the favor,” she smiled again, and he suddenly couldn’t get enough of it, “I enjoy the heart you put into your comics and artwork. Your stories, while simple, are effective for what they’re trying to say, and I think your paneling is gorgeous. The way you actually play with the page to communicate your characters’ mentality is something I’ve never seen before.”

Praise. From Sen Takatsuki. He didn’t know what to say. Was he dreaming? Should he pinch himself? No, probably not. He’d wait until he got home, assuming his legs hadn’t turned to jelly.

“There’s a park just down the block from here, where a lot of people like to gather at this time of year.” She snapped him out of his thoughts as she produced her contact card and scribbled something on the back. “This is the address. Meet me there next week on Friday at noon. Promise I’ll be on time!”

She all but shoved it into his hand, patting it reassuringly. Her hands were dry— eczema, maybe?— and not at all what he imagined. Huh. But she was touching him. Huh.

“Text me when you can, and we’ll iron out the hiring process when we’re done at the park. Sound good?”

Kaneki managed a nod, unable to form words.

“Great! Look forward to working with you!” She stood up, tapped him on the arm with her hand (he flinched slightly), and left the shop with her coffee.

He blinked and looked down at the card in his hand.

Wait, what?

He surveyed the area for Takatsuki, but the only sign that she had been here was the faint scent of hibiscus flowers.

Wait.

What?

He looked at the card again, and it was blurry and wet. Wait, wet?! No, no, no— He wiped his eyes and inserted the card safely and carefully in his wallet. And then it sunk in:

He… got the job?

[whiskeyswriting]

Left Waiting for Mr. Right

{ Masterlist }

It had been the longest day of working nonstop. The gala had to go on without a glitch and it was up to me to help Bruce and the catering company make sure nothing happened.

As I sat down to eat a little something, a rather handsome guy approached my table and sat down. He struck up a conversation with me and I learned he was a journalist with the Daily Planet. He said his name is Percival Bratten.

We got to chatting and discussing different topics. Eventually the conversation turned back to the gala. Percival kept asking about how Bruce planned it all and how much money did we hope to raise with the gala.

“I’m not the one to discuss the money with. IM just the assistant. But I can introduce you to Mr. Wayne if you wish,” I tell him.

“Sure! I’d love to write a piece about him in the Daily Planet.”

I lead the way to where Bruce is standing. When he sees me, he nods me over but then his expression changes when he sees Percival. “Mr. Wayne. This is Percival Bratton from the Daily Planet.”

“A pleasure to meet you Bruce,” Percival says. “I wanted to do a report on your gala and the benefactors. I want to bring attention to the charity that you’re helping and see if we can get you some more donations from Metropolis.”

I can feel Bruce tense so I get a little closer to him to place a reassuring hand on his arm. He immediately relaxes a bit. “Percival. How about you leave me your business card and I’ll call you in a couple business day to set up the interview?” I say, turning on my best Mr. Wayne’s assistant charm.

Bruce leans down and whispers in my ear that he’s going to step away for a moment to say hello to a few more friends. “We’ll be talking soon Percival,” he says before taking his leave.

I try not to chuckle at the obvious way Bruce didn’t say it was a pleasure to meet him. He dislikes reporters like Percival trying to get interviews when they’re not scheduled.

“Feel free to enjoy the hors d'oeuvres and the champagne,” I tell Percival.

He reaches out and takes hold of my arm. “Actually, I would like to enjoy your company. Not just here… How about you join me for coffee tomorrow after work?”

Part of me wants to say no but the other part is excited. It’s the first time someone had asked me out since I moved to Gotham.

I looked at my watch and hurried down the street to make it in time to the cafe. I get to the last empty table in time. As I wait, I take my pocket mirror out and check my hair. Once I’m satisfied it’s good, I take my book out to read while I wait for Percival.

I sit anxiously and continue checking my watch. 20 minutes after 6:00pm.

Read. Check my watch. 6:45pm.

Read. Check my watch. 7:15pm.

Read. Check my watch. 8:00pm. At this time, I realize, and perhaps a bit too late, I’ve been stood up. He was never coming to have coffee with me. I close my book and pay for my third cup of coffee and I start making my way to my apartment.

Luck isn’t on my side as it starts pouring suddenly. There was no rain in the forecast. But I’m not surprised.

What does surprise me is the force of the pull that lands me on the floor. It’s just my luck that I get mugged when I’m just a few blocks from my place. The assailant lifted me off the floor and slammed me against the wall.

A pained groan is the only sound I can make. My vision is starting to get blurry when I vaguely see a dark figure above me before my world goes black.

When I wake up again, I’m laying in a hospital cot but the room is not your typical hospital room. It’s dark corners are lit by the lights of the machine.

I try and sit up but my head starts throbbing and everything starts to spin in the room.

“No. Stay laying down,” a gruff voice tells me.

“Where am I?” I try opening my eyes only to see the masked vigilante Batman standing above me.

“You’re safe. You were hurt Miss Lockhart.”

Panic begins to settle in the pit of my stomach. Was this it for me? Did I do something wrong? Why is The Batman keeping me here…. Wherever here is.

Although I’m panicking on the inside, I will my face and body to not make it obvious.

“You were robbed and received a blow to the head. I brought you here to make sure you’re okay and mended back to health.”

Batman is always described as a tall and broad shouldered vigilante, someone to fear. But here in this moment, I don’t feel fear anymore. I feel…

I feel butterflies.

“Oh no… This is gonna be bad,” I tell myself. I’m already crushing on my boss, who is totally unattainable for me… Now I’m going to be crushing on this vigilante who is also unattainable.

- -

Whiskey's Barrel: @askmarinaandothers @bayisdying @breadsquash @callmemana @callsignscupcake @cycbaby @dragon-kazansky @gracespicybradshaw @hisredheadedgoddess28 @ladylanera @starlit-epiphany

Whiskey's Gothamites: @lilyingotham

--

A/N: To be added to this (or other tag lists), please fill out the form located in this post.

[aryagarg]

Garden Furniture Layouts That Encourage Conversation

When designing an outdoor space, comfort and beauty often take center stage. But one factor that truly transforms a backyard into a social haven is how your garden furniture is arranged. Whether you're hosting a weekend brunch or enjoying a sunset with family, smart garden furniture layouts can spark interaction, connection, and meaningful conversation.

In this blog, we’ll break down how to design layouts using garden furniture that naturally invite people to gather, talk, and enjoy. From cozy corners to open setups, you’ll find ideas to suit your space—big or small.

Why Layout Matters in Garden Furniture Design

Many people invest in stylish garden furniture but overlook how to position it. Layout isn’t just about aesthetics—it's about how the space functions. A well-thought-out garden furniture layout:

Encourages eye contact and face-to-face interaction

Maximizes available space

Provides comfort and privacy without feeling closed-off

Enhances the flow of movement in your garden

So let’s explore some of the most effective layouts that turn any backyard into a social hotspot.

1. The Circular Seating Layout

A circle is a powerful shape in conversation zones. It removes hierarchy—there’s no “head of the table.” Everyone is equally included. Place circular or curved garden furniture like a round table with four to six chairs, or a semi-circular sofa with a central firepit or table.

Best for: Group chats, game nights, intimate conversations. Pro tip: Use cushions and low-light lanterns to soften the circle and make it more inviting.

2. The L-Shaped Lounge

The L-shape layout using sectional garden furniture is perfect for maximizing corner areas. It brings people close without putting them directly opposite each other, which feels more casual. Add a coffee table in the middle to anchor the space.

Best for: Relaxed gatherings, evening teas, or reading with company. Pro tip: Try built-in or modular seating for a cleaner look.

3. The Opposite Pairing

Placing two benches or lounge chairs opposite each other with a table in between is a classic arrangement. It fosters one-on-one conversation and is ideal for small spaces like balconies or patios.

Best for: Deep talks, coffee chats, or casual interviews. Pro tip: Choose garden furniture with armrests and deep cushions for comfort.

4. U-Shaped Setup for Larger Groups

Hosting a garden party? A U-shaped garden furniture layout using a mix of sofas and chairs makes sure everyone is part of the conversation. This layout creates a sense of openness while still feeling connected.

Best for: Social events, BBQs, and family get-togethers. Pro tip: Add a center table for snacks and drinks and decorate with outdoor rugs for structure.

5. The Firepit Circle

A firepit layout is both functional and cozy. Arrange your garden furniture—think Adirondack chairs, cushioned seats, or wooden stools—in a circle or semi-circle around the firepit. It naturally encourages people to talk, share stories, or just unwind.

Best for: Evening hangouts, storytelling, or marshmallow roasting sessions. Pro tip: Keep the chairs lightweight so you can adjust as needed.

6. Zone-Based Layouts

If your outdoor space is large, divide it into zones using different types of garden furniture. For example:

Dining zone with a table and chairs

Lounge zone with sofas or loungers

Quiet zone with a hammock or single bench

Each zone invites a different kind of interaction, from group chats to solo relaxation.

Best for: Versatile outdoor use and larger gardens. Pro tip: Use plants, pergolas, or outdoor screens to create natural dividers.

7. The Bench + Chair Mix

Mixing a long bench with single chairs on the other side of a table is a popular café-style setup for garden furniture. It feels informal and flexible—you can add or remove chairs easily as per the guest count.

Best for: Casual dinners, brunches, or reading clubs. Pro tip: Add outdoor pillows on benches for extra comfort.

8. Flexible Modular Layouts

Modular garden furniture allows you to switch up layouts depending on the occasion. Arrange as one big sofa, or break into small seating groups. Perfect for people who love rearranging and hosting.

Best for: Those who host varied types of gatherings. Pro tip: Opt for lightweight but durable pieces for easy movement.

9. Compact Conversations for Small Spaces

Even in a small garden or balcony, two comfy chairs and a side table can create a perfect conversation nook. Choose garden furniture that’s foldable or stackable to save space when not in use.

Best for: Urban homes, balconies, and compact patios. Pro tip: Use vertical elements like wall planters to add greenery without losing floor space.

10. Hammocks & Hanging Chairs

Not your traditional garden furniture, but hammocks and hanging chairs create cozy, swaying corners perfect for long talks and deep relaxation. Position two hanging chairs facing each other for a casual chat zone.

Best for: Chill sessions, evening chats, or solo unwinding. Pro tip: Add side tables for drinks or books to make it practical.

Final Thoughts

The layout of your garden furniture plays a bigger role than you might think. Whether you have a huge backyard or a modest balcony, arranging your garden furniture with intention can make your space more sociable and inviting.

Take time to understand how your guests move, sit, and interact. Then choose a layout that brings them together, literally and emotionally.

After all, your outdoor space is not just a place to sit—it's a place to connect, laugh, relax, and create lasting memories.

So don’t just place your garden furniture. Arrange it with heart.

[electrasarchive]

August 7, 2011

HELLO. Hiya!

How are you? I’m very good. I’m in a coffee shop on [happening East London’s] Curtain Road. You didn’t fall asleep again did you?

EDITOR’S NOTE: Marina is referring to a phone interview mishap during the promotion of her first album when Popjustice fell asleep and was woken by the sound of Marina ringing for her phone interview. No questions had been written, chaos ensued, the interview didn’t run.

No, there are some actual written-down questions this time. Oh that’s a relief, I can never tell if it’s just a catch up chat or a real interview, so…

Well this is a bit of both. You’re putting a new song online today, so hopefully you can explain what’s going on. Yes.

So what’s going on? What’s all this Electra Heart business? What’s ‘Fear & Loathing’? Well, today I’m releasing a song called ‘Fear & Loathing’. It’s not a single, it’s just an album track. And basically Electra Heart is a story. I don’t even know if it’s going to take the form of an album yet, but it’s a really cinematic 70s Americana-type film and each part of the story comes in Part One, Part Two, Part Three. The song that’s going online today is Part One. It’s quite hard to explain because I think a lot of people will think Electra Heart is an alter ego or something but she’s not, it’s kind of basically a vehicle to portray part of the American dream, with elements of Greek tragedy and that’s all going to be coming out through the visuals. It’s hard to explain but I think you’ll see it when it all comes together.

Okay. So she’s a kind of character through whom you’re telling… Some stories about yourself? Or is it all about her? Er… Well yeah I suppose it’s my view, as someone who’s not American, of the American dream.

Right. I’m obsessed with it all. I just love the side of it that’s really vapid and hollow. And that’s kind of what I’ve really explored. The whole album is around that.

Do you think that level of vapidity and hollowness is something that you just find in America? You say you’re on Curtain Road now, you wouldn’t have to go far to find something pretty vapid and hollow in East London… (Guffaws) Well it’s in all of us, isn’t it? Everyone’s vapid to a degree, just like not everyone is 100% pure and innocent or kind.

Er, hello? Speak for yourself! Oh HA HA HA — shut up! But everyone drifts through different characters every single day, based on the context of the situation they’re in.

This might sound a bit combative and it’s not meant to but do you not feel that you made this point in ‘Hollywood’ on your last album? Yes, but I was more celebrating the kitsch, glamorous element whereas with this the imagery is totally different. It’s still based on… Actually, have you seen the [UPCOMING TRACK WHOSE TITLE WE HAVE BEEN ASKED TO WITHHOLD FOR THE TIME BEING] video yet?

No. Okay, well that’s like a really 70s thing, it’s set in the desert… I just think every artist always has something at the core of them that fascinates them and inspires them. In the beginning I had exactly the same thought — “oh God, I’m still inspired by America, I don’t want to make ‘Hollywood Pt II’”. And it’s not like that. I’m just really inspired by that topic and that culture and I think I always will be. It’s kind of like how every longterm artist always has a thread running through their image, or their lyrics, and that’s mine. America.

But America’s fifty states, there are so many different Americas… The Las Vegas subtext of ‘Fear & Loathing’ feels like a pretty easy target with the whole ‘vapid’ theme, and there are plenty of places in America that aren’t vapid… No, there are, you’re right. That’s what I want to explore. I want to explore the side that has nothing to do with glamour, and that’s all about loss and failure, and that’s more apparent now with the American economy and stuff like that. But that image, that illusion we have of America really fascinates me.

You’ve spent a lot of time in America so it’s been around you, but it feels funny that as a UK artist, and you’re sitting in London now, well, there’s a lot happening in the UK that’s inspirational enough. Economy, riots, Cher Lloyd at Number One… These are turbulent times. (Laughs) I agree, it’s shocking.

I mean people are going to write amazing songs about what is happening right now. Actually let’s be honest, lots of people are going to write fucking awful songs about what’s happening right now, but… What, about the looting?

There are just going to be a lot of people who decide that they’re going to try and come up with their attempt at a ‘Ghost Town’ to capture the mood of the nation. Probably, but lyrically, well, I’m not a political person. I definitely draw inspiration socially and culturally, but I’m not someone who’s like ‘I’m for a revolution’. It’s more about fantasy.

How is the fantasy element present in your new project? Well for one it’s painted as a modern day tragedy — that’s quite fantastical. It’s painted as a play, like a film. It’s about living. It’s just my nature, I’m really overly dramatic.

And these songs that are going to be appearing. There’s one today, and then there’s… The banger.

Yes the banger. So this album, or collection of songs or whatever it is, they tell a story… Yes.

So are you releasing them in order, with each song as a chapter to tell that story? For example with ‘Fear & Loathing’ [the video] I didn’t want to just pop up going (cheesy voice) “HEY!!!! I’M BACK EVERYONE WEARING A WHITE BLONDE WIG, I’M A POPSTAR!!!!”. I wanted it to be artistic, and it’s turned out that way. So ‘Fear & Loathing’ has turned out to be the transition into the antithesis. Like everything I’m not, that’s what I’m becoming.

Hm… The whole idea, the whole notion of pop culture and especially pop music is ALL based on illusion. And portraying yourself as something more exciting than you are. And my heart is always against that. So that’s why I’m doing it. I’m SO against it that I almost have to play the part. Does that make sense to you?

Sort of, but… Are you not overthinking it a bit? (Laughs) People say that to me every day. Just generally! (Laughs)

Can you explain again, in a short sentence, what’s going on? To make it absolutely clear. Okay. Electra Heart is the antithesis of everything that I stand for. And the point of introducing her and building a whole concept around her is that she stands for the corrupt side of American ideology, and basically that’s the corruption of yourself. My worst fear — that’s anyone’s worst fear — is losing myself and becoming a vacuous person. And that happens a lot when you’re very ambitious. Does that make sense a bit more?

Yes. And that’s why it’s imperative that she’s blonde. I wanted it to be really unnatural. Like, I’ve rejected everything of myself.

Is this not just you finding a way to distance yourself from something you’ve made but you’re not happy with? (Pause) Dunno! Isn’t that what ALL music is about? (Laughs)

But not all popstars come along with their second album and go, ‘do you know what, I don’t like this so I’m going to invent a character to subvert it and turn it in on itself’.  If you pin it on an alter-ego or a character it becomes cliched and it really isn’t that — I want it to be like a film, where you follow this character on a journey.

So the start of the journey that you see with the first ‘Fear & Loathing’ video… You see her cutting her hair. What does this symbolise? Change.

Okay. (Roars with laughter) Sorry, you crack me up.

What? No, it’s fine, carry on. So that represents change…

Er… Okay. But nothing more than that? No, I suppose questioning who you are?

But the point is that most popstars come back with a new haircut when they release their new album. Like Example. He’s got a popstar haircut now, but didn’t have one before. Yes.

And popstars don’t usually come back going, ‘ooh, here’s a video of me cutting my hair in black and white’. And that’s because they like to facilitate the illusion. But I’m not interested in maintaining that. I’m interested in deconstructing it. Like with the [UPCOMING TRACK WHOSE TITLE WE HAVE BEEN ASKED TO WITHHOLD FOR THE TIME BEING] video it starts off and it’s very kind of Mulholland Drive / Paris, Texas, that kind of vibe, and I’m actually filming myself putting on the wig, but I don’t care that it’s ‘ruining the illusion’. That’s the whole point — you’re becoming something you’re not.

Can’t you just do a nice pop song? (Laughs) (Stop laughing) (Laughs again) Am I meant to answer that?

Do you need to make this so complicated? (Pause)

Or is it me that’s making it too complicated by asking too many questions? I think so. I think you’ll understand when you see the second video. I don’t think it’s complicated at all, actually, but maybe that’s because I’ve heard the rest of the album. Think of your favourite artists who have very specific visions. If you’d listened to just one of their songs then interviewed them based on that one song, you might not have understood the whole thing.

‘Fear & Loathing’ starts off with you singing in the first person, then by the chorus you’re singing in the third person. Who’s the ‘I’ and who’s the ‘you’? (Laughs) Well I’m always talking to myself, in every song, that I’ll ever write, in my life. (Chortles at length) I like to say it’s about relationships just to look a bit more normal, but it never is! (Laughs) No, but it’s definitely to myself.

But to clear this up — it’s not you talking to Electra Heart or anything like that. No. Electra in my head is not like this real person. I don’t want it to be like a cringey alter-ego, because I don’t feel that it is.

So is it more like Plan B and Strickland Banks? I don’t know. I guess there are parts of it, just like with Strickland Banks… You could relate it to David Bowie I suppose. I think artists have a tendency to have different personalities, or maybe everyone does I don’t know, but I think artists are maybe more vivid about how they articulate different parts of themselves. But even if you look at the first album, the way in which I wrote was very much in a storytelling manner. I think this is now a distillation of that, if you know what I mean.

That does make sense. You know the line in ‘Fear & Loathing’ about trying to have it all but ending up with not very much at all? Could you give an example of when that has happened? Yes. I mean, you know my personality I think. It just seems like people who don’t try in life, it kind of works for them. But because I wanted it so badly on my first album, and also because I’m a bigmouth and I like to say ridiculous things, when you don’t meet your own expectations or you don’t achieve the things you’ve said you want to achieve, you feel like a failure. And quite frankly I still am in my head, because I know where I want to go.

The first album felt a bit like a second album. There was a self-consciousness to it. Or maybe a self-awareness to it, but there was a quality that you rarely get on a debut album. It’s usually album two before people start responding to the world’s response to them. And the first album is usually unaware of the reality of what’s to come. Like, you know how an element of self awareness is one of the things that separates us from the animals? It feels like debut albums have a more animalistic feel, and you never had that.  Er… Yeah.

That didn’t make very much sense did it. I don’t know if it’s a compliment or not but I’m going to go with ‘not’.

It wasn’t meant as a criticism, but it just feels as if we have missed your innocent phase because even while you were recording your debut album you were straight into music industry hell. There was no innocence! Actually, quite frankly, there WAS. Because I wrote, for example, ‘Hollywood’ a year and a half before I was signed. And it’s funny actually because people will always try and pick holes in things like that. When it was a single ‘bloggers’ were going “oh she’s sold out”, and I was like, “what are you going on about? I wrote that on a £200 keyboard two years ago”. So I think I had an innocent phase but maybe I’m just the sort of person who feels like people are watching.

Well people ARE watching.  Yes. Good!

The idea of trying to have it all seems relevant to [UPCOMING TRACK WHOSE TITLE WE HAVE BEEN ASKED TO WITHHOLD FOR THE TIME BEING], because it’s very much a Marina song in lots of ways but in other ways it sounds a lot like a 2011-era hit single.  Yes I think it does and it’s not something I’ve done before. If this was a year ago I don’t mind saying now that I would have been, like, “no way am I doing this”. I was not even up for working with anyone. This is why these two songs fit really well together actually, because ‘Fear & Loathing’ is about genuinely not feeling bitter or crazy or jealous any more (nervous laugh) and actually feeling a lot better off for it. And so I’ve been working with a lot of other people. I’ve been working with Dr Luke, Stargate, and I’ve learned SO much. And I’ve done an album — well, it’s nearly done — that’s so exciting and feels like a real album. I just think, if I’d sat in my bedroom and carried on as I was because I thought that equalled credibility, I don’t think I would have produced a good album. With Stargate the production is the antithesis of everything I’ve done so far, but I think you have to try [line breaks up]. And I really like the song now. I’ve really grown into it!

So you didn’t like it to start with? No, I did… But we originally composed it to this sort of guitar dance track. Then on the last night of working with them someone from Amsterdam sent in an instrumental to a different girl that didn’t work. And then Tor [from Stargate] was like, ‘oh my God, what if we turn put it underneath that track’, and I was like, ‘hm…’, and then we did it and it sounded amazing. And I really wanted to go with it. This is like the only time I would have released that song, I think. End of the summer… Before I have an album out. It’s not the sort of song that would be the lead single for an album.

What do you think your fans are going to make of it? I think some people will hate it and some people are going to love it.

Some of your moaning fans are going to go fucking mental! Probs! But writing to your fanbase is the worst thing you can do, so I’m never going to do that. But in terms of your vocals, and the melodies, and the lyrics, it’s completely Marina.  Yes! Of course it is.

But it’s not like you’ve just gone in, idiot-style, and gone ‘oh I’ll just sing any old rubbish over a generic Dr Luke backing track’. (Laughs) No. And also, my stuff gets remixed to oblivion, so I was like, why DON’T I do a dance song? (Laughs) And ALSO, with ‘Fear & Loathing’ , the songwriting structure is so up and down and all over the place that it’s really nice to just write a nice streamlined song for a change.

Well that’s the good thing, it’s just a love song… (Laughs) It might sound like that but really I’m just talking to myself, ha ha ha! No, not really.

Is there anything else you’d like to explain today? No, I don’t think so. Except ‘Fear & Loathing Part Two’ is coming next Monday.

Right, and that’s [UPCOMING TRACK WHOSE TITLE WE HAVE BEEN ASKED TO WITHHOLD FOR THE TIME BEING]? Yes, with the video. It’s going to be the two videos together that are going to be on iTunes, and [UPCOMING TRACK WHOSE TITLE WE HAVE BEEN ASKED TO WITHHOLD FOR THE TIME BEING] you can buy on September 26.

Yeah alright ‘plugging’, do you want to read out the iTunes URL while you’re at it? (Guffaws) Okay. So I don’t think there’s anything else. I don’t know when Part Three will come. A while later. Maybe at the end of the year.

So it’s not leading into an album? How modern. No. But it might be, you never know.

Well this certainly clears things up, and in some ways makes them more complicated. I wonder if this interview will get shelved like the last one?

Hopefully it’ll go up this afternoon. What a bitch though, I was so upset that the last one was shelved. I thought it was my moment to shine. No — in the bin.

Didn’t it go up in the end? No! Unless you put it on, like, shitweb.com.

We should use shitweb.com as a repository for all our rubbish we don’t use. Crap Popjustice interviews and crap Marina demos.  OH YES THAT’S AMAZING. Okay, well, that’s it.

Nice to have you back.  Thanks!