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chrollo-lucilfers-chains · 5 months

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Chrollo x reader x platonic-ish!Machi

And they were roommates...

Warnings: none

Notes: How it started.

When the spider doesn't have any missions, the feared phantom troupe spreads out to do their individual business. Some keep up their usual behaviors, participating in minor thefts to keep busy and wait for updates from the boss. Others go back to their respective 'homes' or houses, like the Zoldycks, to lay low and relax for a while.

Machi usually considers herself part of the first. In reality though, at this point she might be the latter.

It's not that she feels some sort of pride in not admitting to a safe place, the reason is more that she hasn't mentally adjusted to the realization, she actually has a place to call 'home'.

The first time Chrollo meets you, he is rather unprepared for it.

There's a sound of keys jingling in the lock and Chrollo looks up from where he's sitting. He turns to Machi with an unspoken question but she only shrugs, apparently unconcerned. If she's not concerned he doesn't have a reason to be either.

They're staying at her apartment in the city of York New after successfully robbing a museum a few cities over.

The phantom troupe members all have various hideouts and properties that they go back to when Chrollo doesn't have any missions for them.

During these 'breaks', as Shalnark calls them, the members of the phantom troupe rest. Some like to do it individually, some even share an apartment (and some just break into random houses).

Chrollo's nearest safehouse would be another few hours west, so Machi had invited him to stay the night at hers after their accomplished evening was done, offering him her couch.

The various paintings and statuettes had been promptly moved to the attic. Chrollo didn't mind if Machi took care of selling them this time. She would send him half the profit later on anyways.

He'd been slightly perplexed by the two bedrooms but had just neatly filed it away in his brain as information for later.

So now they're relaxing in the living room. Chrollo is currently laying in an incredibly comfortable armchair whose brand he's going to have to look up later, while Machi has draped herself onto the couch with a book in her hands.

Chrollo, having also borrowed something to tead, had been positively surprised by her bookshelves as they contained all sorts of philosophy, psychology and sociology, which he rather enjoyed.

When relating this back to Machi, she had only shrugged and said that they didn't belong to her, which in return greatly confused Chrollo. But Machi hadn't said anything else so he hadn't asked.

Apparently Machi has a roommate... How interesting, he thinks and concentrates back on his book.

The door opens and a young woman walks in, still hidden from the two in the living room because of the hallway, hair swept into chaos by the raging weather outside.

The sound of the storm is audible in the background before you shut the door behind yourself with a small curse. Sighing, you hang your coat on the rack and take off your soaked shoes. Stupid storm!

As you shuffle towards the kitchen you appear in the doorway to the living room for a few seconds before disappearing into the kitchen, not having noticed the two yet as they're reading in a comfortable darkness, neither of them having bothered to turn on the lights earlier. After all, they are both able to see very well in the dark and electricity is expensive these days.

In the silence of the room, Chrollo immediately understands that Machi was counting on you coming 'home' and still invited him, which means she's showing him a part of herself that he hadn't known yet. She'd probably calculated this, so it was intentional for him to be here right now. Accordingly she's counting on him to behave with this new information.

"Oh my god! Machi!!"

He had noticed your presence returning from the kitchen before you'd turned on the light and jumped back, almost hitting the door while clutching at your chest in surprise.

"You're home?! I thought you wouldn't be back for almost another week, Mochi?"

Chrollo hones in on the nickname.

Mochi? Like the sweet ice treat? Machi only nods. "We finished early."

"We?", You ask in confusion and it's only then that you notice the pale, incredibly handsome stranger sitting in your favorite armchair.

"This is Chrollo. He's the colleague slash boss. From work."

He smiles with his head tilted slightly to the side, like a cat showing you his pearly white teeth.

"Oh.. oh! You mean that Chrollo?!" You ask Machi who only nods in her typical style of few words.

"Wow! Well, it's nice to meet you! I've heard so much about your adventures together."

You walk over to where he's sitting, extending your hand for him to shake in a friendly manner.

"Likewise," he takes it and squeezes in a firm but not hurtful grip, with the gentle manner that only those certain kinds of people have, who know precisely how to control their strength.

It's a nice grip, you decide, while looking into his eyes.

And damn, those eyes. Steel grey, just as cool as the name of the colour implies, that seems to stare directly into your soul.

At the same time, Chrollo's suspicion is proven right. You're not a nen user. Which is incredibly interesting. Not only does Machi have a roommate but she has a non-user, a civilian as a roommate, who is apparently interested in the same literature as him and calls Machi cute nicknames. The latter is important because usually nobody is allowed to tease her or give her nicknames unless they want their heads cut off.

The fact that she doesn't only tolerate you calling her after a japanese dessert but apparently seems used to it and unbothered, even actively responding, was quite telling about the relationship the two of you seem to have.

"He needs a place to crash for the night. Is that fine with you?" Machi asks.

"Sure, I don't mind. You know where the spare blankets and pillows are, right?"

Machi confirms your question and so you excuse yourself to go to bed, after wishing them a good night.

Truly, how interesting. He's going to have to investigate that a bit further. If only to satisfy his own curiousity.

After you've left, Machi makes him swear to never tell another troupe member about any of this. He agrees easily. The trust of his members is not something he takes lightly after all and Machi seemed to truly care about you in some way.

He doesn't mind his spiders having a private life. As long as it doesn't interfere with their duties when the time comes.

A similar situation occurs after a mission few weeks later and he asks to stay over once again.

This time you're sick and wrapped in blankets on the couch when the two troupe members arrive. Machi takes your temperature in a moment of gentleness that's so out of character for her that Chrollo begins to wonder about her true personality.

You smile at him gently in your feverish state and he feels himself smiling back.

He also marvels again at how weak Machi's friend seems to be. It's not derogative, he's just genuinely surprised at civilians bodies. He's seen sickness before in meteor city but not often in adults and never something as light as this 'cold' that seems to have quite the effect on you.

Chrollo watches as Machi makes a tea for the three of you and carefully places yours on the couch table.

Not for the first time he asks himself why she keeps you around. Again, not in a malicious way, he's simply curious as to why Machi chose you in particular as her roommate.

He poses the question to Machi later, who thinks about it for a few seconds. "I suppose it's just nice not to come back after a mission and walk into an empty, dark house."

She explains how the two of you had started out as a hook-up. You'd met more than once for sex but figured out that romance or a purely sexual relationship just didn't feel right.

But Machi kept coming to your home after missions, enjoying your company. At some point you had apparently asked Machi to just move in already since plenty of her time was spent in your home amyways. What started as a joke became mutually beneficial for both of you. Sharing the rent being just another added benefit. Not that Machi needs the money but she isn't an excessive spender so she doesn't mind saving some either. Saving money is also a habit back from the old days some of the troupe have acquired, even if desperate times are long gone.

Chrollo knows that there's more to you than she is willing to admit to right now but he doesn't pry. After all, he can see the affection in the way Machi takes care of you, gently picking you up in your blanket cocoon and placing you back in bed so you could rest some more.

"She made muffins for the two of us while stuck at home... But she said you could have one if you wanted. By the looks of it, she was pretty out of it too so she probably won't notice one missing tomorrow either way."

Chrollo is perplexed by the cup of sugar being placed in front of him. It looks like one of those advertisements in the subway but still visibly self made. Pink and with sprinkles, he notices, the effortlessly wound white details around the pastry, made of even more sugar.

"She says it calms her down. Baking." Machi offers as an explanation.

Chrollo decides to try the unfamiliar treat and it's the sweetest thing he's ever tasted.

The flavours melt on his tongue in a sinful way and he is delighted by the little sprinkles on top.

It's a light vanilla cream filled with cherries in an incredibly fluffy vanilla sponge. Machi shows a tiny smile to him with a knowing look, while reaching for a second serving herself.

The next morning, when you come strolling into the kitchen in your pajamas, Chrollo is sitting next to Machi enjoying a cup of steaming Earl Grey tea. It's strangely domestic.

"G'morning," you yawn, apparently feeling much better than you did yesterday.

The two others nod at the same time in the exact same way and you disguise a laugh behind your hand at their similar behavior.

Machi had told you that she got along well with her 'boss' but this was just strangely adorable. You wonder if they are somehow related.

Sitting down at the table, Machi offers a plate with toast to you, which you accept with a small 'thanks'.

Then you turn your attention to the black haired man sitting across from you.

"So Chrollo, how do you two know each other? I mean I know you work together but like ... How did that happen?"

He looks at Machi who had told him about her 'alibi' with you yesterday.

You think she is an antique hunter and art collector who finds special pieces on auctions and museums all over the world and resells them to other collectors. It's an alibi most of the troupe uses. You know she makes good cash as well.

"Well, occasionally we go on searches or expeditions together. You could say Machi works for me in some way."

You nod your head, you know that much.

"So you organise and manage the leads and assign them to the others?"

"Sometimes. Other times I take part in the hunts as well."

"Oh, are you a hunter too?" You sound exited at the prospect of another nen user. He smiles charmingly.

"I am, yes." He's not even lying. He completed the hunter exam a while ago to use the hunter licence. It came in handy quite often to be allowed to use nen legally. It hadn't been hard for him anyways. The tests of the exam weren't a match for his abilities so it served more as a vacation with extra credit than anything else.

Machi had assured him earlier that you would never tell anybody about what she or he told you. In the years she's known you, a lot has happened but you've never broken her trust once.

He still won't tell you anything of importance. Partially for your own safety as well.

There's more than one hunter in the world who can find out secrets without the person's consent. Pakunoda is only one of many.

Sitting across from him and staring at his eyes you finally realize what they remind you of. They look precisely the way one would imagine the eye of the storm to look like, calm but surrounded by incredible destructive power.

You can't really place why and you also don't find yourself minding the feeling of being swallowed by the gray.

However, you do find yourself wondering wether jn his eyes there is also some kind of warning.

He might just pull you into the storm and fill your life with the chaos that comes with standing in the eye of a hurricane.

#machi #chrollo #hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #machi komacine #mine #my writing #chrollo x reader #hxh chrollo #hunter x hunter x reader

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ohmeohmayohmy · 5 years

Text

With the Slightest Smile, Chapter 6

Taglist: @reedusteinrambles @juxt4p0siti0n @kurtnehhhh @singularpurplepansy @chlobo6

Notes: Tumblr was throwing a fit, so it’s taken a while to upload this bad boy. But good god, my heart is thawing out from that sweet, sweet Brian emotional turmoil. I love the man, and sometimes my heart aches for him. Maybe someday things will get better for him. I’d like to think so. Also, DAMN my boys are looking fine. 💕

Warnings: Implications of sexual nature (nothing in detail, no smut), a little bit of drinking, brief mention of body image issues, some F-bombs.

Words: 8.1k+

___________________________________

August 20, 1973

4:04am.

Again.

Only twenty four hours ago, you spent sweet time with Brian, together in the kitchen you shared, enjoying each other's sleepy company. Presently, Brian was alone, laying in bed, trying not to watch helplessly as the time ticked away on his bedside clock. Twenty four hours ago, it was as if you were all his, and he was all yours. No one outside of the confines of the flat existed.

But life goes on.

You were still at work.

And Brian had yet to fall asleep.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what happened at the nightclub mere hours ago. What transpired between you and John. It was cycling through his mind on repeat: the hope in Deaky’s eyes, how enamored he looked through the haze of intoxication; your response, how you held your hand to his chest before telling him no. What Brian couldn’t seem to move past was how you said it. You made it clear that you had no intention of saying yes to John under the influence of alcohol, but that didn’t mean you would still refuse in another situation. He wanted so desperately to convince himself it was the man, not the moment, but all that would come to mind were images of you and John laughing, with you sharing a smile that Brian wanted for himself. It was all too familiar, and he didn’t think he could endure losing you to someone close again.

Years ago, he came up with the rule that neither of you would talk about romantic interests unless prompted. You agreed. He never asked, so you never told. Now, it was all Brian could do to not ask you how you felt about Deaky. He was afraid to know the answer, but god, he wanted to.

Though the window was cracked open and the fan was blowing, Brian felt that the air filling his room grew hotter and staler with each passing minute. He tried to get out from the blankets, to rid himself of any excessive insulation, but in doing so he only managed to get tangled up more deeply in the sheets. Kicking and straining, Brian’s right leg broke free, followed by his hips and torso, then he wriggled his left leg into the coolness of the bedroom. He flung his tee shirt from his clammy chest, and stripped his boxers, throwing them directly at the hamper across the way. None of it seemed to help.

No matter how free he was, Brian still suffocated in sorrow.

_______________

September 27

“Nurse?”

You had your back turned to the desk, facing the center of the nurses’ station, your eyes closed shut. Strangely, the hospital lighting was giving you a headache. It seldom had that effect on you. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that you hadn’t taken a day off in a week, that you were sleep deprived. It didn’t matter.

“Nurse Y/L/N.” The person addressing you sounded more assertive. With a deep breath, you spun around to see whomever it was.

Doctor Tead.

“Hello, sir,” you spoke in a chipper tone, hiding your weariness. “Can I do something for you?”

“Perhaps. Nurse Roberts said your shift ended twenty minutes ago, but discovered you sitting here. Can you explain that?”

“Oh, well I—”

“We are not in the business of paying overtime for those who just sit taking a doze, do you understand?”

You nodded slowly.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Doctor Tead relished in the moment. “Good girl,” he cooed in condescension, patting your hand, and began strutting off.

You watched the doctor disappear behind a patient’s door, fuming at his gross, patronizing comments. He wasn’t even the head of medicine; he was not your boss and had no real power over the nursing staff. Doctor Tead was the only person in the hospital that you harbored a sincere loathing for. He was a middle aged man who would hit on every new young nurse, and if one were to turn him down, he would make it his personal business to ruin her day. Needless to say, there were many recipients of Tead’s hectoring.

You grumbled as you slid from the seat, smoothed out your uniform, and grabbed your purse. Nurse Roberts, the head nurse, approached you after seeing that you were up.

“Take a couple of days off, honey.”

She was a stern, intimidating woman, but she cared for her nurses with intense compassion. You smiled at her before she could return to her other tasks. “I will see you on Sunday.” With a wave of the hand, she was gone.

You exited through the ward’s doors and began your descent downstairs. The main lobby of the hospital was fairly empty, there was only a visiting family and a few new admittances waiting to be brought up. A nurse standing by the front desk said goodbye before you walked outside. You exchanged some quick pleasantries, then continued on your way. Coming upon the parking lot, your attention was caught by someone walking toward you. He grinned at you. It was one of the younger doctors, Arthur Carlisle.

“Hello, Y/L/N,” he stopped to greet you. “Leaving so soon? Just when I arrive?” He teased you, as he often did, but you weren’t in the mood.

“Shift’s up.” You felt bad for being curt, but getting away from there was your current priority. “Have to get home.” When you tried to sidestep past him, he stuck an arm out.

“Are you alright?”

“I am tired.” You pushed his arm down and out of your way. “Have a nice evening, Doctor Carlisle.” You started to walk again, at a faster pace than before.

“Wait, Y/N,” the doctor called after you. You tensed at the sound of your first name being used. Only other nurses would address you as such. Never doctors. You didn’t take another step, but you didn’t look back at him either. Taking that as an invitation, Carlisle came up to stand next to you. “I’ll give him hell for you,” he said, referring to Tead. You gave him a tiny smirk, then carried on to the nearby stop for the Tube. “And it’s Arthur to you!”

* * *

Rides home were the few times where you could sit back and immerse yourself in your headspace without interference. People wouldn’t bother you in your nurse’s uniform if you appeared to be sleeping–they wouldn’t dare disturb you.

You leaned against the back of your seat, resting your head on the window to your left. You placed your legs up beside you, since your row was otherwise vacant. The rattle of the train was soothing, giving enough noise to make you feel not as alone as you did, but not enough to distract or interrupt your thoughts.

You hadn’t spent time with the band over the course of the last month, only barely seeing Brian when your schedules allowed for it. Roger stopped by once or twice to get things from Brian while you were home, but that was the extent of interaction. You wanted to distance yourself, give any drama that was bubbling up a chance to simmer down. What John had said on his birthday made you question how much time and attention you were giving to the group, and the implications behind it all. You didn’t mean to give anyone the wrong idea. You didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea. So, you decided it best to stop hanging around the studio for a while. Brian concurred a little too hastily.

Stella kept you company on most of the nights when near-isolation became too much, and Brian was busy. Sometimes her girlfriend, Odette, would join in the festivities of the evening, bringing in pastries from the bakery she ran, but mostly Stella would come alone and let you rant as much as necessary. You found it easier to get riled up on certain days, especially those on which you had interactions with Doctor Tead. More often than not, however, you would sip on the champagne Stella brought with her and speak tipsy, teary musings about love and life. She found the spectacle very amusing, being the sober onlooker.

The screech of brakes echoed through the traincar, taking you out of your head. When you came out onto the street, you noticed the sky was still speckled with rosy-hued streaks and creamy clouds. The trees lining the streets framed the sight like a painting, and you felt like a piece of the art just by witnessing it. You slowly made your way home, passing several people. Some you recognized and others you didn’t, but you flashed a tired smile at anyone who came your way. With work behind you, you wanted to move forward in the day with happiness instead of resentment. The closer you got to your building, the bigger your smile became. Noting that Brian’s car was parked in its usual place, you quickened your gait. As you came up the indoor stairwell, you fished through your purse for keys.

I really do need to clear this thing out.

Walking through the hallway, you smelled something cooking. Making it to your door, you located the source of the scent and heard music playing. The light streaming through the gap between the door and the floor was faint. You hesitantly turned the key in the lock, hoping you weren’t about to interrupt anything. Pushing the door open enough to squeeze through, you glanced around the living room.

No one was there, but there were lit candles twinkling on every surface you could see. You didn’t think you and Brian even possessed that many candles between the two of you.

You tiptoed to the kitchen, trying to remain as inaudible as possible. The countertops were absolutely spotless, and there were two unused wine glasses set out next to a fresh platter of butternut squash ravioli and a bowl of simple tossed salad. You took in a whiff of the food, making your mouth water. It was one of your favorite dishes, and the only thing you had eaten since your shift started at 5 o’clock that morning was an apple. Shaking your head to rid yourself of the temptation, you left the kitchen to see if anyone was in the flat. You knew Brian’s car was downstairs, but you couldn’t know for certain that he was alone.

Inching down to Brian’s bedroom, you could make out a gentle whimper from behind his door. It was quiet, but as you got nearer to it, the more distinct it became. You grew worried, beginning to take larger strides. Then the soft whimpering was accompanied by some panting. It struck you. You didn’t want to barge in on him if he was with a girl, so you froze just short of the doorway with a hand in the air prepared to knock, stopped out of not wanting to intrude on Brian’s privacy. You felt stuck to the floor, unable to move your feet.

To your horror, the door suddenly flew open, and you stood face to face with a sweaty Brian. Upon seeing you, his eyes widened and his expression was mortified. His face was red, possibly from embarrassment, but that was probably not the sole factor. He cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, Brian,” you spoke first, and started babbling, “I didn’t know you had company. I would’ve made myself scarce or—”

“Oh, no no no no,” he shook his hands in front of his body with great fervor. “I’m, uh, I’m alone.”

You furrowed your brow, confused by the romantic atmosphere. The candles. The wine. The fancy food.

Wow.

You didn’t know what to say.

Say something!

“You really go all out when romancing yourself, huh?”

Anything would have been better than that! Silence is better than that!

You clapped a hand over your mouth, ashamed. You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact with your best friend. He towered over you, but somehow, he stood small.

“Sorry,” you whispered from behind your hand. Brian chuckled awkwardly.

“It’s alright, Y/N.”

You looked up at him, and could see his eyes screaming, but decidedly didn’t say anything about it out of gratitude for his understanding. Due to the sheer discomfort, you started laughing involuntarily, with your hand still placed over your mouth. Brian reached out a hand to put it on your shoulder, to calm you, but decided that wouldn’t be best.

You straightened up, wiping a tear of laughter from your eye. “Did you wait for me to have dinner?” He nodded, his gaze intense but sweet. You weren’t paying enough attention to see that.

“I wasn’t sure when you’d be home, exactly,” Brian played with his hair. “It should still be warm. At least, I hope so.”

“Mind if I clean myself up first?” You bit your lip, gesturing to your uniform.

“I was about to ask you the same,” he said, lighthearted. You beamed at his delicate face.

“After you,” you motioned to the bathroom door. Brian gave you a funny look, but you weren’t thinking about your words. He dipped his head and ducked into the room.

You turned to grab clean clothes from your bedroom and kick the shoes off your aching feet. Brian came out after a couple minutes.

“All yours,” he peered into your room with a smile painfully plastered across his cheeks. You gathered up your things and went to turn the water on. A scalding hot shower was all you needed to wash the day away.

* * *

Brian felt foolish as he waited for you to finish your shower. You didn’t seem to understand what he was putting out for you, running around making the flat more presentable. Or the energy he spent trying to figure out how to make ravioli from scratch, and the time it took to ask for help from one of your neighbors when he broke down over his cooking failure. Even getting hold of and lighting all the candles was a larger undertaking than he anticipated. If you couldn’t see what he was trying to tell you, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to bring it up.

You finally opened the bathroom door, steam rolling out through the hall like a thick fog. Stepping into the living room, you radiated warmth. Brian watched you approach him in your purple pajama set, hair still wet but not dripping. The flickering of the candles reflected in the satiny fabric covering your body. Brian had to force his eyes to keep them from dancing all over your figure. He gulped, hoping you wouldn’t notice.

“Should I get down some plates for us?” You started for the cupboard.

“No,” Brian reached out a hand to touch you. “You don’t need to lift a finger, go take a seat. ’Ve got it.” He smiled genuinely, urging you to relax. You appreciated the sentiment, so you went to throw yourself on the sofa.

A few moments later, Brian set down a wine glass in front of you and one in front of the worn “study chair”, where he would sit. He popped open a new bottle of moscato and poured a generous amount into each of your cups. Placing the bottle on the far end of the coffee table, he spun around and marched back into the kitchen. You heard the clanging of some dishes, setting you on edge, but when Brian reemerged with two plates of ravioli and salad, you lazed back into the softness of the couch. He settled into his customary position.

“Cheers,” he held out his glass.

“Cheers.” You smiled into your drink as you took a sip.

Brian had some trouble getting a ravioli to latch onto the prongs of his fork. It was enough to entertain you, until he gave up and started on his salad. You were not met with the same difficulty, and smugly scooped a piece of the entree into your mouth, making sure Brian was watching. He stuck out his tongue, then with a stroke of luck, managed to get one to stay long enough for him to eat.

Of course, it was all a show for you. He just wanted to make you happy. He had spoken to Stella earlier when she called for you, and she let it slip that you were having a hard time lately, between your problems at work and the sudden separation from her other friends, the boys.

“So, what’s all of this, then?” You glanced around at the candles and the cleanliness.

In that moment, Brian decided to put off any big revelations for another time. You were exhausted and needed some time to enjoy yourself, without clouds of worry. He looked down and grinned softly.

“Wanted to celebrate you,” Brian’s voice matched his expression.

You didn’t understand what he meant. You never did.

He perked up. “I mean, someone ought to. You’re one of our country’s finest healers!” His playful exclamation hit you with a wave of affection. You could tell he was trying to cheer you up, and you could feel it working.

“Well, I don’t know about that—”

“I do.”

The conversation subsided as you both took a moment to eat the food before you.

“This is delicious,” you said in between bites. “Did you get it from Sicilian Cafe?”

Brian shook his head, mouth still full of salad. “No,” he swallowed, “I actually made it from scratch.”

You were awed. “Really?” He nodded, feeling slightly guilty for not including the part where the culinary student, who lived on the floor below, helped only after having him cry to her for several minutes, but he didn’t find it to be a necessary detail. He liked your amazement, it made him feel good.

“You’re quite impressive, Mister May.”

Brian took a swig from his wine, finishing off the contents of his glass. Noticing, you picked up the bottle and handed it to him. He thanked you.

“Would you mind topping me off too? ’S been a long week.” Brian complied.

In the middle of taking a drink, something occurred to him. “Oh!” He spilled some wine on the floor. You jumped up to grab a rag to clean it up. Brian took it from you and dabbed at the spillage.

“Sorry, Y/N.”

“Don’t be. I’m just amazed you’re actually cleaning something up,” you teased. “Anyway, what were you thinking about that caused such a frenzy?”

“Well,” he started, draping the rag over the arm of his chair. “The boys and I have been working with these great guys, y’know, Mott the Hoople?” You nodded, vaguely remembering talking to Freddie about them. “And they’ve asked us to tour with them!” Your jaw dropped.

“They what? When?!”

“It was made official a couple days ago, and we’re starting in Leeds in November.”

You got up from your seat and wrapped your arms around Brian. He pulled you onto his lap so he could hold you tighter. You stroked his hair.

“Oh, Bri, I am so proud of you.” As you whispered into his ear, you could feel some tears welling up in your eyes. You pulled back for a second, to look at him. “See? I told you, you were meant to do great things.” Brian gripped onto one of your wrists and brought your hand closer to him. Before he could stop himself, he laid a tender kiss on top of your thumb. Startled, you abruptly pulled your hand away, not expecting the action. He looked upset, or guilty, and you couldn’t decide which.

Maybe he’s getting caught up in the excitement, you thought, writing it off as an intimate gesture shared between good friends in an intimate moment. You got up from where you sat, but shot Brian a reassuring smile, and began to pick up the empty plates. He sprung out of the chair.

“Oh, you don’t have to do—” he cut himself off, “I made dessert, too.”

You put the dishes back down on the table, unsure what to do.

A pause. You hesitated for a bit while debating the notion, but gave into your cravings. “What did you make?”

Brian smiled devilishly. “Red velvet.” He knew you loved the cream cheese frosting, and he was proud that he could actually make it by himself.

You sucked your bottom lip in between your teeth. “You’re too good to me, Brian May. God, what did I do to deserve you?” Brian blushed and turned to go into the kitchen.

Once you were alone, you finally recognized that music was still playing on Brian’s old record player. It was a collection of Ella Fitzgerald standards, one of your favorite albums. Your father gifted it to you for your thirteenth birthday. Wishing you had paid more attention, you could tell you missed most of the tracks. The jazz swelling through the air had a physical effect on you, you found new energy to sway and sing along.

In the kitchen, Brian brought out a lopsided cake covered in lumpy frosting. The flowers that were originally envisioned appeared to be pink globs of disappointment. He frowned, thinking it was glorious before, but now, he only felt embarrassment at the idea of presenting it to you. With a sad sigh and a small shrug, he took out a knife and cut two slices. From where he stood, Brian could hear your voice softly carrying the tune of “Dream a Little Dream of Me” and the faint pattering of your feet dancing across the creaky wooden planks. The thought of you joyfully moving to the rhythm in your skimpy sleep shorts, and your damp hair twisted up in a messy ‘do was enough to jolt him from his pitiful mood.

When he came out with the small dessert plates in hand, Brian was overcome at the sight of you. You had your eyes closed, your hips swaying to and fro, your feet occasionally making steps from one side to the other. He leaned against the wall closest to him and began to sing along with you. You noticed the shift in sound and glanced at Brian.

He started to sing Louis Armstrong’s harmony, so you joined as Ella came in. You walked up to him to take the slices of cake and put them on the coffee table. As you did, Brian came closer and you turned to take his hand in yours. He laughed a little as you grooved more playfully, smiling at your touch. You let him go to show off some disco moves in slow motion, fitting them to the tempo of the song. Brian tried to mirror your actions, but to no avail. His own movements were clumsy and looked very unnatural for him, so you reached out to him again to take him into your arms. Brian was more comfortable that way. Since it was the last song on the record, you let it play through to a full stop.

You released your friend from your grasp to adjust your top. Brian shyly moved to his chair to await your company before touching his dessert. You lounged on the sofa, dangling your clean feet over the arm nearest to him. He offered you the plate with your piece of cake on it, which you happily accepted. Grabbing your fork, you shoveled a portion into your mouth without studying the decorations. Brian felt a little relieved that you weren’t interested in observing the slice.

“This is delicious,” you said with half a bite still in the process of being consumed. Brian usually despised loud chewing noises, but he overlooked them, enjoying your delight.

“I do what I can.”

You were so grateful for this random little “celebration” he put on for you. You didn’t even question the candlelit meal for a second.

“So, how were the boys? Just as thrilled as you?”

Brian chuckled. “Roger and Fred were practically bouncing off the walls.” He intentionally didn’t mention John.

“Do you know the first date yet? I could try to request the day off.” You scrambled for another bite.

“I am not quite sure. I think it’s the fifth or sixth.”

“Well, I could come with you to the studio tomorrow to confirm. ’Ve been given a break until Sunday.”

Brian shifted his position. “We’re actually not in the studio tomorrow.”

You were disappointed, but tried to hide it. Brian could tell. He cleared his throat.

“But we are going to do some shopping, if you’d be interested.”

That perked you right up again.

“Yeah? All of you?”

“As if Freddie would let us pick out our own performance wear,” Brian scoffed. You nodded in agreement. “He says we’ve got to be more ‘glam’.”

You blew out, raising your eyebrows, and nodded again with more subtlety. “I wouldn’t say you or John have the flashiest of wardrobes.” Brian narrowed his eyes with indignation. “Now Roger…” You shrugged, indicating that you considered his fashion to be more adventurous. “But I think Freddie could only be described as ‘extravagant’, ‘glam’ is too mundane.”

Brian loosened up at the notion. “I think he would prefer that, too.”

You finished your dessert and stood up to clear the table. Brian got up to help you, taking the large dinner plates while you grabbed the wine glasses and dessert dishes. You directed him to put everything on the countertop, and turned on the water for it to warm.

“Stella could come too, if you’d like,” he tried to steer the conversation back to the outing.

You snorted, not looking up from the plate you were washing. “You know how she feels about Roger.”

“But she loves judging fashion.”

“As much as she despises him?”

“But she could judge his fashion.” Brian had a gleam in his eye, and it didn’t stem from the excitement that the promise of dish drying provided.

You stopped what you were doing to face him. “I think she’ll pass.” Brian threw his hands up to show defeat, waving the white dish rag in surrender. You returned to your task.

The sound of the faucet was the only noise for a few moments.

“How was work today, Y/N?” He changed the subject, knowing only what Stella had told him over the phone about the past week. You groaned.

“Hellish.”

“Anything out of the ordinary?”

“Not really. Doctor Tead was a total rotter, as usual.” You thought about it some more. “Doctor Carlisle called me by my name.”

Brian was perplexed by the oddity of the interaction, until he remembered the complete division between doctors and nurses. But he hadn’t heard this name before. “Who’s that?”

“He’s one of the younger members of the medical staff. Strange. Great physician.” You paused. “The children adore him. He even lets them call him Arty.”

“Was he there when Tead was around?”

“No, he’d only just arrived as I was leaving. We have wonky timing like that. One of us is always going out as the other is coming in.”

“Does he usually call you that?”

You shook your head. “First time. He even tried to get me to call him Arthur.”

“Maybe he wants to recruit you to join him at the Round Table.”

You threw the sponge into its basket after finishing your cleaning duties. “I think I’d make a great Sir Lancelot.” You puffed out your chest.

“Lady Guinevere,” Brian considered.

“Because I’m a girl?”

“I was thinking I would be Lady Guinevere. You’re the handsome knight who steals me away.”

“Ooh, I don’t know,” you tutted. “I wouldn’t want to get in the way of anything between you and Doctor Carlisle.” Brian looked unamused, but he didn’t really mind. He secretly loved the silly banter.

“We better blow all the candles out before we both forget and go to bed.” You shifted the topic of conversation again.

Brian’s face grew red at the mention of it. He wanted to forget where he had planned the evening to go. Before you could even make a step in the direction of the living room, Brian darted out of the kitchen. It was the fastest you’d seen him move in a while. You followed shortly behind, but most of the flames had been put out by the time you joined him.

“Brian?” You piped up. He looked up at you. “Why so many candles?”

So close. He was so close to avoiding the subject. Thankfully, he could think well on his feet.

“Just thought you might appreciate some softer lighting after a long day in the hospital.”

“How did you know?”

“Lucky guess?”

You accepted his answer, blowing on the last of the flaming wicks, and took a seat.

“I think I should go to bed,” Brian began rushing off to his bedroom.

“It’s barely even dark outside.”

He stopped. “Today’s been longer than you could imagine.”

You were unimpressed. “Is that a challenge?” You folded your arms over your chest.

“I’m simply saying I don’t have your motivation—”

“You were able to be at home all day, lounging like some lizard on a hot rock.” Brian laughed at your odd simile. You cracked a smile too. “Please? We hardly get to just sit and enjoy time without having to be anywhere, anymore.”

“If you insist, love.” He moved to return to his designated chair, but before he could sit down, you patted down on the cushion next to you. He acted nonchalant, taking his time before joining you.

“So, when are we going out on the town tomorrow?” You tossed your legs over Brian’s lap, and leaned back to lay on one of the throw pillows you had picked out years before.

“I know Fred will want to be up and at ’em early, but the rest of us probably aren’t planning to get out of bed until at least eleven.”

You were content with that. “I can do eleven.”

“Fortunately for us, he can’t drive. So he can’t just show up unannounced.”

“Unless he gets Roger to do his bidding,” you said dryly. You couldn’t forget the time Freddie had walked in on your floury wrestling match not long ago.

“I don’t think anyone could get Rog rallied and presentable before ten,” Brian joked, the thought going over his head.

“Then let’s hope for that. Nothing before ten.”

_______________

September 28

The morning came all too quickly. However, you and Brian were ready to go before you even got a call from the others, telling you to hurry yourselves. Out of the lot of them, Brian was notorious for sleeping in. However, Freddie was the one who was consistently arriving late. Unless he was the one organizing the outing.

You were sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine while waiting for Brian to locate his trainers.

“Did you look under the mound of laundry?” You shouted out to him. You could hear a grunt of umbrage, causing you to wrinkle your nose in response. “Well?”

Brian appeared through the entry, looking triumphant with a black pair of dirty Converse hanging by their laces from his fingers.

“And where were they?” You returned your focus on the images in front of you.

Brian sighed. “Under the laundry,” he mumbled. He kneeled to lace up the shoes.

“Interesting.” You tossed the magazine onto the coffee table and set your feet on the ground. He stood at the same time. “Ready, m’lady?” You offered the crook of your arm to Brian. He scrunched his face in confusion. “Guinevere,” you elaborated. His mouth formed an O with remembrance, bobbing his head lazily.

“Did you call by Roger’s place, letting ’im know we’re on our way?”

“Yes, a couple minutes ago. Fred thought you should forget about those old things,” you sneered as you pointed to Brian’s feet, “but I told him to forget about that awful peacock hat of his, and it shut him up nicely.”

“Fred was there?”

“And John was too. I figure they spent the night.”

Brian brought his shoulders up slightly. “Convenient for us, that means we only have to make one stop.” He grabbed the keys from the counter. “Suppose we better go.”

You beat him to the door and swung it open, moving into the hall. Brian slammed it behind him, dropping his keys simultaneously. You both bent down to grab them, and again, you beat him to it. But his hand engulfed yours anyway, not fully thinking nor looking. You breathed softly, bringing your sights up to his eyes.

Hazel.

You smiled.

I always forget.

He returned the smile, his own breath hitching in his throat.

The stillness was interrupted by someone stomping up the stairs. It was the neighbor whose flat was across from yours. You never could recall his name. He looked down at the pair of you and blew air through his nose, humor crinkling around his eyes.

“How many people does it take to grab keys off the floor?”

“Two, apparently,” you sassed, still locked in your crouching position with Brian. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel that his gaze never left your face.

The humor faded and your neighbor scowled as he pushed his own door open, going inside and closing it without another look. With a sigh of satisfaction, you got up from the ground, bringing Brian with you.

“Lonely sot,” you murmured to Brian, who tossed his head back with silent laughter.

* * *

“Look who’s here,” Freddie chirped, widening the door to Roger’s flat for you and Brian to enter through. Brian spoke a quiet greeting, but Fred ignored him and wrapped himself around you. He pressed a kiss on your forehead. “How are you, darling?”

You sunk further into his grasp. “I’m alright, Fred. Missed you.”

He pulled out of the embrace to grab your shoulders, looking you square in the eye. “You can’t leave us alone again for that long, Y/N. We nearly strangled each other every chance we got.”

“Yeah, a medical professional would be helpful if one of us actually went through with it,” Roger chimed in, moving Freddie out of the way to get to you. He winked at you before pulling you into his arms. “Glad to see you.”

You giggled. “You’re all talking like I dropped off the face of the planet, or something. I was busy with work, you know that.” You pressed your palm into one of Roger’s shoulders, playing. You hadn’t said anything to him or Freddie about what they missed on John’s birthday, and highly doubted Brian or Deaky himself would bring it up. Work was your excuse, and they didn’t question it.

You swiveled your head around to find John standing alone, halfway across the room. He gave a small wave before slowly making his way over to the rest of you. “Hi, Y/N.” John looked down at his feet. You noticed he wasn’t wearing any shoes.

Is he not coming?

With timidity, Deaky pecked your cheek quickly, but not quick enough for Brian to miss it.

He clenched his jaw.

“You boys ready to go?” You tore your focus from John to address the others.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve been ready to give Brian a new wardrobe since the day I met him.”

Brian looked exasperated by Freddie’s remark, but you and Roger couldn’t hold back your chuckles.

“No Mary?” You asked Fred.

“She won’t be joining us. Has work to do, or some other nonsense,” he joked. You smirked.

In the brief moments of your reunion with Roger, John, and Freddie, you already felt more emotionally fulfilled. Brian saw the content on your face.

You turned back to John. “Where are your shoes?” He looked dumbfounded. You looked at Brian. “Maybe they’re under your dirty clothes, too.” He rolled his eyes, but all in good fun.

Freddie gasped dramatically. “Is it really that bad?” You gave an overexaggerated nod.

“It is not!”

“Ah, shut up, Bri.” Roger batted a hand at the taller man.

“You’ve got room to talk,” Brian said sarcastically, motioning his arms to the entirety of Roger’s flat. “At least I’m just messy and not dirty.”

“Is there even a fucking difference?”

“There is a very important distinction!”

“And what exactly would that be?”

“One involves messes and the other involves dirt!”

You and Freddie exchanged looks, amused by the childish tiff. He glanced at the clock on the table and cleared his throat.

“Dears?” Freddie spoke calmly and politely. Brian and Roger stepped back from each other and looked at him. “We should be going.” You were dazzled by his sunny behavior. The other two grumbled as they started for the door. Freddie put an arm around both of their shoulders, saying things you didn’t care to listen to.

You walked closer to John.

“Hi,” you whispered kindly.

“Hello.” He spoke with a far away look in his eyes.

“How’re you?”

Deaky looked back down to his feet. You were discouraged, seeing him appear uncomfortable even after a month of evasion.

“I’m sorry.” He wouldn’t look at you.

Your heart broke a little for him. You reached for one of the limp hands hanging to his side, keeping it firmly in your own.

“It’s alright, sunshine,” you muttered. “I know you didn’t mean it.” Those words caused him to meet your gaze. John opened his mouth to object, but didn’t say anything when he saw the compassion in your eyes.

He knew you were lying.

You knew he had told the truth.

The door closed. You both turned to see what happened. Only Freddie remained in the flat with you. He had his arms crossed and a sly look scrawled across his face.

“I managed to get TweedleDee and TweedleDum out to bring the car around.” He sighed. “They even argued about whose car we were using.”

John looked horrified.

“Don’t worry, Deaky, I didn’t hear a thing.”

Neither of you could tell if he was being sincere or not.

A lull filled the space. You weren’t sure what to do, or say.

“Who are TweedleDee and TweedleDum?”

“Love, haven’t you seen that Disney film?” You both shook your heads. Freddie grinned.

“It’s a fantastic trip.”

* * *

The ride into town was long.

You resented being squished in the back between Roger and Deaky. Brian had won the argument over who would get to drive, and Freddie insisted on riding up front next to him, claiming it was his “birthright as the oldest”. You relented, knowing you wouldn’t be able to go up against him.

John mumbled to himself, “Still think we should’ve taken the train.” You mentally agreed with him, but sat in silence.

Periodically, Roger would ask you something about the hospital, reminding you that he once was a biology student, studying to be a practitioner of dentistry. You were happy to engage in conversation, enjoying the chance to talk about it with someone you didn’t work with. Brian was a brilliant man, and understood the concepts you mentioned, but sometimes you felt as though he thought too much when you spoke to him about medicine; he would often respond with a tidbit about physics.

Brian glanced in the rear view mirror to see the back seat, and saw Roger’s arm resting on his leg, his hand cradling his chin. You talked with excitement in your voice and eyes, causing Roger to hang onto every word you said. John was staring out the window, unresponsive. Brian was so distracted by the scene behind him, he forgot about the world in front of him. Freddie tapped him on the shoulder, making him snap out of it, and pointed to the road ahead, full of traffic. Brian slammed on the brakes, causing Beatrix to lurch and let out a concerning noise. Roger, not paying attention, hit his head on the back of Freddie’s seat.

“Ow!” He rubbed his forehead. “I thought you were supposed to be a good driver, May.”

“Still better than you, Taylor,” Brian huffed.

“Oh, stop it, you two.” Freddie sounded playful, but you all could tell he was growing tired of the bickering.

“So,” you spoke up, more cheerful than your company. “Where exactly are you bringing us, Fred?”

“Excellent question, Y/N! None of these simpletons even bothered to ask.” He glared into the mirror, pointedly at Roger, then to John. “There’s this lovely little shop where my friend Minnie works. She said she could get us good deals on the merchandise.”

“That’s great!”

No one else said a thing. Brian reached for the knob to turn up the radio, but Freddie slapped his hand away.

“I was also thinking we could go for lunch, but only if I see some spirits rise.”

“Eh, if they want to mope, maybe just you and I will go.” You patted Freddie’s shoulder.

John lifted his head from the window and sat up straight, the height difference between the two of you suddenly very prominent. “I think that sounds nice.” He hadn’t said much during the drive, except the occasional sassy comment made under his breath that only you were able to hear. You smiled at his change in demeanor.

* * *

There were velvet trousers in every hue. Satin shirts with zany patterns. Jewelry of varying designs. It was sort of what you imagined Freddie’s paradise to be like.

You dragged Brian by the hand to go through some tops you thought he’d be fond of. He was never hesitant about more feminine styles. He loved lacy things. You held up a black shirt with large sleeves up against your body, trying to get him to imagine what it would look like on a body. Brian had a moment of deja vu.

--October 25, 1961--

“Which one do you like better?” Brian asked you, holding up a flowy purple dress, followed by a longer blue one, then switching back and forth between them.

In your hands, you held a delicate white frock. The fabric glistened in the sunlight from the window behind you. You watched Brian twirl the garments around for your benefit, insisting it would help you “envision the silhouette” better. You giggled when he lifted the hanger of the purple one over his head, setting it around his neck.

“Well, I think that one suits you nicely.”

“Ya think so?” He craned his neck downward to get a better look at it from his angle. “Think it works with my womanly figure?” Brian shimmied for you, letting the dress swing around in front of his gangly frame. You put the white one back on its rack and gave him a cheer, accompanied by an enthusiastic round of applause.

The other patrons of the shop glared at the two rowdy teenagers disrupting the quiet atmosphere. Neither of you cared, wrapped up in the fun you were having. Brian only stopped dancing when he noticed a young man, who appeared to be several years older than himself, smiling at him. He was with his girlfriend, at least Brian thought it was his girlfriend, who was sifting through a section of evening wear. She would hold up a glittering gown to see his reaction, and if he seemed to like it, she’d drape it over her forearm with the others he approved of. Everytime he said something kind, the young woman would gaze up at him with pure adoration. Brian hoped others thought you looked at him like that.

“I just don’t know if I could pull it off.”

Brian came out of his trance to focus on you. He hung the blue dress back where he found it. “What do you mean?”

You bit your cheek.

“It’s certainly beautiful, but I don’t think it would look as nice on me as is does on the hanger.” You lowered your eyes, feeling vulnerable.

Being in a place full of gorgeous women with attire to match made you feel self-conscious. You thought that puberty hadn’t been kind to you, you felt like a stranger in your own skin. In fact, you only worked up the nerve to go in when Brian said he would try on dresses with you.

For once, Brian felt like he wasn’t the frightened one.

“Oh, don’t be so fucking ridiculous.”

Your mouth was agape, you were shocked by the words that escaped his lips. He scrambled to find the words he meant to say, realizing that wasn’t a great start.

“A hanger’s only an object. Nothing can look beautiful on a hanger.” He shifted his weight into his right hip. “At least, not in comparison to the beauty it can reflect when it’s on someone.” He coughed, then lowered his voice. “On you.”

At this point, Brian knew he felt something for you. A little more than friendship. Or a lot more. He came to terms with the emotions some months ago, but he had hoped it would have subsided by now.

A schoolboy crush on his best friend shouldn’t last longer than a few months, right?

Teary eyed, you reached up your arms to loop them around the nape of his neck. Brian ducked down a bit for you to get a better hold, letting you pull him closer to you.

“I love you, Bri,” you whispered.

He melted where he stood. Could it be?

“You’re the best friend I could ever imagine.”

Oh.

“God, what did I do to deserve you?”

The words rang through his ears.

“You came into my life,” Brian whispered back. “That’s all.”

--1973--

“And I think this would go nicely with that pair of velvets you own.” You could see that Brian was in a daze. “Well?”

He blinked slowly, bringing his drooping eyelids up halfway to look at you. “Hmm?”

“What do you think?”

He was brought back into the present.

“Oh, I think it’s great.” He wasn’t even sure what “it” was.

You beamed. “Good! Now, Roger’s trying some stuff on. You should go join him in the back.” You unloaded the items from your arms and transferred them to Brian. Then you pointed his shoulders in the right direction.

Brian marched to the fitting rooms, finding a half naked Roger flexing in a mirror. Brian stopped in his tracks, but Roger was unfazed.

“Whaddya think?” He posed, showing off the obnoxious pants he was wearing, paired with nothing but a fringed vest.

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Did Fred pick that out for you?”

“No,” Roger continued staring at his reflection. “This is all me.”

“Ah. Makes sense.” Brian scoffed as he pushed past the blond and drew the curtain to the dressing area. Roger came in behind him, not caring that it was meant to be a personal space.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Well, for starters, you’re in my fitting room.” Brian frowned.

“Oh, don’t start that with me.” Roger pointed a finger at Brian. “You’ve been moody all day.”

Brian snorted at the remark. “I could say the same about you!”

Roger stared at his friend with dispassion. Then something dawned on him. “Brian?”

The guitarist fell silent.

“Did you and Y/N get in a fight or somethin’?”

“No. We didn’t fight.”

Roger had a thought, but dismissed it with laughter. Brian’s scowl hardened, making Roger feel required to say it aloud. “Sorry, mate, I was just thinkin’ you were too angry to have fucked.” Brian’s nose twitched. Roger stopped laughing. “Did you and Y/N fuck?” His voice was at a much lower pitch.

“No,” Brian growled through gritted teeth. “It’s not like that between us. You know that.”

Roger had a gleam in his eye. “But do you want it to be?” Brian’s expression softened, giving him all the confirmation he needed.

“Not exactly.” Brian confided, shifting uncomfortably in the small stall made for one person.

“Then what exactly?”

Brian’s heart was pounding. In twelve years, he had only told one person what he was about to tell Roger.

* * *

Roger stood silent for a moment, taking in what he just heard.

“Twelve years?”

Brian blushed, bashful from the level of vulnerability he had reached with his bandmate.

“Twelve bloody years? Why haven’t you ever made a move?”

“I never seemed right. We were too young. Then she was with somebody. Then she moved away for five years. When would I have done anything?”

Roger was frustrated by his friend’s stupidity. “You’ve wasted a monumental about of time failing to do anything.”

Brian sighed. “I’ve never had the courage. And then I find out you’ve kissed her. Doesn’t she mean something to you, too?” He didn’t even want to think about John.

“Of course Y/N does. She means a great deal to me, but not like that. It was one moment. You’ve had a lifetime of moments.” Roger paused. “You love her, yeah?”

“Irretrievably.”

“Then do something about it.”

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suminomiyyas · 5 years

Text

Misawa Sachika Blog Translation 2019/03/26

Really long post,and not reccomended for someone who can’t handle Big Riajuu energy, and i apologize since i already post this in my blog but not posting here because i got something to do

♡あげみざわ♡

みなさん、こんばんは！✨ Good evening everyone ! ✨

ブログですよ〜♪ it's a Blog post 〜♪

なにやらあげみざわ？って言葉が若い子の間で流行ってる…？ What're you doing now ? or some word that's currently popular on youngsters..?

なんか三澤と呼ばれてる感じがして他人事とは思えません。 Somehow when saying "Misawa" i feel like i am talking about someone else.

テンション上がるーみたいな意味っぽい…？ Feels like you're in High tension or something..?

ついに、「三澤紗千香のDVDも観るじゃんね！in 新宿　～上坂さんのスケジュールを仕事で押さえたじゃんね～」が発売されました！！！ At last, "Misawa Sachika no DVD mo Mirujane ! in Shinjuku ~Bothering Uesaka-san work schedule" is on sale ! ! !

あげみざわだね！テンション上がった三澤さん！ It's Misawa ! Misawa-san is in high tension !

A&Gショップにてぜひ！ぜひ！お買い求めください！ By all mean please buy it at A&G Shop !

https://aandg.shop-pro.jp/?pid=141398071

特典として、発売記念公録参加応募券が封入されてますよ〜😆✨ As for Toketen, Official record participant applicant is included ~😆✨ 公録タイトル：「三澤紗千香のDVDも観るじゃんね！in 新宿～上坂さんのスケジュールを仕事で押さえたじゃんね～発売記念三澤紗千香のラジオを聴くじゃんね！公開録音

Official Tittle : "Watching Misawa Sachika's DVD ! in Shinjuku ~Bothering Uesaka-san work schedule~ Release commemoration The public recording of "Listen to Misawa Sachika Radio !" //it's Sacchan Radio name

場所：文化放送12階メディアプラスホール Place : Culture Broadcast, 12F Media Plus Hall 日時：2019/4/28（日）＜第一部＞13:30開場　14:00開演　14:45終演（予定） <Part > 13:30 Start 14:00 End 14:45 Encore (on plan) ＜第二部＞15:30開場　16:00開演　16:45終演（予定） <Part 2> 15:30 Start 16:00 End 16:45 Encore (on plan)

出演：三澤紗千香、上坂すみれ Participant : Misawa Sachika, Uesaka Sumire

オフショットも出していきます！ I took some offshots !

店先のメニューを見ている二人。 Two of us looking at the Menulist at front of store

三澤さんのワクワク加減と Misawa-san that's overwhelming with excitment and 上坂さんの気の乗ってなさ！！！！！笑 Uesaka-san who's just tagging along ! ! ! ! ! Laugh

二人の世界。 Our own world

あらかわいい。 How cute.

美味しかった！！！！ロシア料理！！！ That was delicious ! ! ! ! Russian cuisine ! !

DVD撮影中に写メ撮りたくなって撮ったやつ。 I am the kind of people who shoot some picture during DVD recording.

ボルシチがほんともう美味だったの！！！！ The Borscht were delicious ! ! ! !

ロシア料理また食べにいきたいな！ I want to eat a Russian food again !

ウォッカも嗜みました…！ I also enjoyed Vodka..!

その様子はDVDで！！！！！ That's the gist of the DVD ! ! ! ! !

上坂流の飲み方してます！ Drinking with Uesaka Style !

良い子はまねしちゃだめだよ！ Good girls please don't immitate this !

DVDはそれはもう自由にイチャイチャしています💓 The rest of the DVD were all fliriting everywhere💓

いつもの二人の感じ。ほんとみんなに見てほしいです🤣⭐️✨ We're always like this, and i want everyone to witness it🤣⭐️✨

公録は、DVDそのままの空気の上坂三澤が見られますので as for the recording, the DVD atmosphere were the usual Uesaka Misawa combi どうぞご応募よろしくお願い致します！🌸 i'll be awaiting for the applicant ! 🌸

そしてそして、嬉しいお知らせです。 And also, i had another good news.

また一つ、夢が叶いました！ One of my dream came true once again !

4月15日（月）20時より三澤紗千香と駒形友梨さんで On 15th April from 20:00 Misawa Sachika and Komagata Yuri ゲーム実況番組「三澤紗千香・駒形友梨のさちゆりゲーム実況部〜Press Any Button!〜」がスタートします！ Game Live Show "Misawa Sachika . Komagata Yuri Game Research Club ~Press Any Button~" has started !

詳細はこちら→https://ch.nicovideo.jp/voicegarage/blomaga/ar1745070

Details are here

ニコ生のコメントもたくさんほしいけど、 Of course i want lot's of comment from Nico 「#さちゆり」でTwitterでつぶやいて欲しい気持ちもある…！（わがまま） I also going to read comment with "SachiYuri" hashtag on Twitter..! (Being selfish)

使いやすい方にコメントどんどんもらえると嬉しいです🌱 I would be delighted with lot's of simple and easy to understand comments 🌱

番組タイトルは、二人で考えました🎮

The tittle of the Program were decided by two of us 🎮

文化祭に駒形さんと二人で出たあとに書いたブログで話が進んだみたいなんです🙌 After the broadcast i would like to write another article on Blog 🙌

やりたいことは言葉にするべきですね！⚡️ We should say it out loud to anything that we want to do !

スピリチュアルな感じでいうと、「言霊(ことだま)」！ In Spiritual term that would be, Kotodama !

社会心理学的用語で言うと「認知的不協和」かな。 As for Pshycological term, "Cognitive Dissonace".

ついでにやりたいこと言っとこ！笑 while at it i already say what i want to say ! Laughs

色んな作品でお芝居したい！ I want to play lot's of roles ! MCもラジオももっとやりたい！ I want to do more MC and Radio ! もっとやまなし大使として仕事したい！ I want to do more work as Yamanashi Ambasador ! フィンランド関連のお仕事したい！ I wanna go to Finland ! //is it related to Eve or not, nobody knows 廃墟・廃線関連の仕事したい！ I want to work on salvaging scrapped ruins ! コスメ関連のお仕事したい！ I want to do more cosmetic related Jobs ! 紅茶やタピオカミルクティーに関するお仕事したい！ I want to work on Tapioca Milk Tea and Tea Shop ! 裏千家の茶道習いたい！ I want to learn about Tea Ceremony ! キャラソンもっと歌いたい！ I want to sing more Character Songs ! 三澤紗千香の音源作りたい！ I want to make my own Sound bank ! かわいくなりたい！ I want to be more cute ! などなど。 and else.

いろんなことに興味ある！ I had an interest on lot's of things !

そうだ、日常ブログも書きますね。 and also, i am going to wrote my blog on daily basis

この間ね、アールグレイで煮出しミルクティーを久しぶりに作りました。 The other day, i am making an Earl Gray Simmered Milk tead after quite awhile.

やっぱ紅茶好き。 after all i like tea.

もうすぐ花粉症からも開放されるし、 I'll be healed from Hay Fever soon. 三澤さんは秋冬は気持ちが落ちがちなんだけど、春が来たらすっきり前向きになれるはず！！！ Misawa-san feel not really comfortable with Fall and Winter, but once Spring come i am sure i am gonna move forward ! ! !

インナーカラーも入れたし🍇 I also put some Inner Color 🍇

もう春みたいなものでしょ！🌸 It's already spring after all！🌸

あ、あの、ブログ長いとコメントしづらいと思いますが、全部に反応しなくても大丈夫ですよ！ E-erm, I am sorry for a long post on this blog, you don't have to read everything ! //Too late for that

ここいいね！って思ったところに反応していただけるだけで、ブログのモチベーションになります！ I like it here ! i feel like i can become a Blog Motivater by posting something here !

それでは〜〜😊✨ Well then~~😊✨

#三澤紗千香

#Seiyuu #Misawa Sachika #Uesaka Sumire #Blog Translation #Blog Updates #My Translation #Long Post

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