#hide this in your Rainy folder if you wish!

[scurvioli]

@koifsssh Its your boy! A little WIP of something I was thinking lately

And i Believe its kyleeartistlittle's AU

[lovee-infected]

Hello! ♥ Can I request headcanons or oneshot (whichever is easier) about how the twst boys react when they discover that MC is a girl, because they thought MC was a pretty boy, someone like Epel, when an unexpected rain happens during flying class and they can see the silhouette of the breasts or the vibrantly colored bra under the wet T-shirt 👀

At some point they all go : “My expectations for you were low , but holy f ”

Riddle Rosehearts

Class 2 E had to take Riddle who crashed the ground from the 20 meter height to the nurse office afterwards

His pe grades were already horrifying and with those two tips of something he saw under your wet clothes , it isn't really strange to end up in bed

Thankfully he doesn't end up with a broken leg , but that seemed way better than having this broken sanity now : (y/n) is a girl...?

He gets red but not of any anger , instead embarrassment . He has been treating you too casually good lord , he is never the same with girls

Riddle doesn't talk to you for a few days because he now realizes how lame your relationship may seem ; many things he should have done , many things he shouldn't have done

Would things still be the same ? Well it has to be he , thought . After all you didn't ever hide anything or lie about your gender , it was his misunderstanding

Well now , maybe he wants to treat you a bit... softer ?

Trey Clover

He isn't terrified by the gender , he is terrified by the way he saw it : Wet clothes , squishy big things under your shirt with a visible color...

He sweats at even saying it by word he wasn't ; he wasn't expecting that at all

He tries to hide his blush but that doesn't really work ; everyone knows that Trey isn't one to blush easily

He decides that it's better to skip the class now ( His eyes need some fresh air) . Just a few hours away , and he seems to be already used to it

He has to admit that it's somehow creepy to see the guy who you always liked having around is actually a girl , but he decides to pretend that he already knew it

Male or female , you're the same to him . The lovely and adorable (y/n) you always were

But still , this got him thinking...does he need to treat you like a girl sometimes ? Stuff that just girls do , say or like ?

Cater Diamond

He... notices the big deal when he's taking a rainy day selfie with you . He is making sure that you both look good but suddenly his eyes lay at the sight of your chest through his phone...

His eyes grow wider and he doesn't notice when he presses the button : The sound of his phone's flash almost made him drop it

You ask if he's alright but Cater just gives you a nervous laugh and say that the phone just slipped for a second . He neither shows you the pic you just took nor agrees on taking a second one when you ask him to

He leaves in pretext of picking his umbrella up but instead , runs to a corner where you couldn't see him : He brings that selfie from his gallery and zooms on your chest . He wants to make sure of what he just saw

Which one's worse ? The neon pink bra under your T-shirt or the... clearly visible tip of your nipple under it ? Damn you are laying your breasts on his hand in the pic...

He quickly saves it though his private albums . On the second thought , he sends all pictures he had from you to that folder as well

Well , he'll get used to it right? Perhaps he can now flirt more comfortably with you knowing that you're actually a girl . The only important thing for him is too make sure that no one ever finds out about photos he has on that private folder ; the one he keeps specifically for you

Deuce Spade

"E-eh??" Remember what happened with Eliza ? This is the second version of it . Even during his rage days ( Wild yellow hair and random fights with others) he lacked the ability to even say hi to a girl . And here he is now spending all those days together without knowing that you were a girl !??

His whole personality almost cracks for a second . All those dirty stuff other first years had shared about girls flashes before his eyes . He wasn't damn prepared -

He couldn't be any more thankful that you couldn't see the horrifying scenes and sounds through his mind at the moment- He just leaves before you could even see him blush

Ace doesn't stop teasing him though , late at the night inside Heartslabyul's , Ace is walking on his nerves asking him to tell what's wrong . Ace isn't the only curious one ; soon all his classmates too keep asking Deuce to say what is bothering him

Deuce has decided to keep his mouth shut until he comes over this fact on his own , and he's strong on it . There's no way that he'd let anyone recognize his anxiety with women

He knows his friends better than this and doesn't want to be dared to steal your underwear or poke your breasts in another round of truth or dare

Let's just...hope that things will soon get better for him or , perhaps you can be his chance to overcome his lack of skills with women ?

Ace Trappola

"Holy sh-" He then gets fired from the pe class for his impolite usage of words- ( School rules , right ?) Not that he cares though

Comparing to Deuce , he's a lot better and more experienced especially because he has been in a relationship before... which is both good and bad

The last time he got this close to any girls before you was with his ex-girlfriend ; and to be honest even that relationship didn't brought them as close as you two are now . The thought of going through similar things with a new one even though he no longer thinks about his ex ... that kinda hurts

Maybe he would've died to tell Deuce what he found out if old memories didn't haunt him . He isn't an awkward realizing your gender like Deuce is , but he can tell that it's kinda hard for him to deal with it . Mostly because of how close and dear you are to him now...

He finally realizes that he doesn't deserve carrying the shame and anxiety on his own and tells Deuce ; well at least calming Deuce down will make him pay least attention to his own problems

Leona Kingscholar

He almost chokes- He was standing in the corner without a single drop of water on his hair while you got too wet as if you took a shower with your clothes on

He is teasing you likr always again until he realizes a second color under your white clothes ... no . please don't be

He prefers to imagine that you're a guy having the kink of wearing feminine underwear . He isn't ready to accept that you're a girl and he still denies it after seeing the vibrantly visible bra with his own two eyes

God...he teased you , kicked you , laughted you off and literally stepped on you ; that's what he usually likes to treat others so..? But not a lady , never . He is raised better this to end up neglecting a lady's great level and worth

Now considering how he's been teasing you so far , what did you think of him..? Do you consider him an asshole who has no respect for women due to how he treated you ??

He is really stressed out and doesn't know what to do , he just takes off his own jacket and quickly comes to you , wrapping it around your wet body and hair and taking you to a warmer place . He keeps asking if you're alright ? Didn't you catch a cold ? Do you need a doctor ?

Leona doesn't know if your fascinated gaze means a yes or no , and it isn't going to help

He isn't going to explain himself right now , maybe give it some time ?

The only reason he treated you this casually was because he was comfortable with you and it was all...a way of showing admiration ?

Maybe it gets better when he explains himself

Ruggie Bucchi

His mouth drops open when he realizes the bra as you two were drying yourselves after the rain . (y/n) is a she...!?

He doubts , he would doubt it again if he even takes a closer look . Suddenly his body feels warmer and his cheeks get red . No way...

Ruggie barely talked to any girls other than his own family and even skipped conversations when girls were brought up , he isn't mentally prepared for it !

But now he is changing with you at the same room ?? Wait wait wait- He might act like a brat but he isn't a jerk

He leaves because he's sure that you need some privacy ; all though he still refuses to believe that you're a girl...

You never ever mentioned your gender in front of him and he never asked , but did anyone else know it except him ? He just wouldn't dare to ask

Well girl or not , he doesn't stop teasing you in general ; but also learns not to go too far since it's still hard for you to be wrapped in an all boy school...you need more support

Jack Howl

He doesn't mind going blind after seeing those nipples under your wet T-shirt . He first thought that they were a bit too big for a boy but...he soon realized that they weren't even for a boy-

He had to take a small look between your legs because he couldn't resist- he had to make sure . And NO ! He didn't see what he wished to see there

He still can't make sure ?? Those things usually proved someone being a girl but still , there is no way to make sure unless he asks you ; but how can he ? No way , he'll just melt down

He doesn't mention anything in front of you but tries indirectly bringing the issue of your gender up with Ace and Deuce : Didn't (y/n) tell you two about her schedule today?

" Her...?"

Well great , now Ace and Deuce have joined him on the ‘terrified of your gender’ army . The only way to make sure is either asking you or... stealing something that could prove it . Someone has to get inside your room but which one of them now...?

Azul Ashengrotto

He is vibing with the pleasant rain as it made today's pe sessions a bit better for him . He asks you to join him

He just takes his glasses off for a second to dry them and- BANG

The color of your bra was too visible that he could even see it without his glasses on

He immediately puts them on and takes a better look , well great now he can clearly see your breasts closely . How bad he wished that he went blind for a second...

You don't get why Azul seems to be studying your chest so you ask if something's wrong?

Azul is pulled out of his thoughts and embarrassment takes him over because you realized what he was staring at : Pathetic

Azul excuses himself telling you that he has to take his pills before he returns to his Octopus form and disappears

How dumb he could be not to realize it till now... Beside that - Why the hell didn't those two tall sticks ( a.k.a Floyd and Jade) realize it either !?

God God God...he keeps swallowing his eyes at the thought...

How can he get over the fact that he was being with a girl all this time...?

Floyd Leech

Well of course he is shocked , Shrimpy was supposed to be a guy but he actually is a little girl ? Meh , what a disappointment

Well , body is body to him so he isn't really shocked or freaked out to see , well , those things under your shirt

He might not be that fascinated , but still has doubts . While you two are taking a walk back to Ramshackle dorm , he just doesn't stop staring at your chest and doesn't mind you noticing him either

To be honest , he now seems to be liking it . You were just a kiddo he always enjoyed teasing but now that you're a girl...? How different would things be ? And would the way he treated you make you possibly... have those girlish feelings for him ? Sounds fun

While saying goodbye at your door he stops for a second to say something . You don't quite get what he asked but he knows better himself : " Random question but- are those seriously soft to squeeze ?"

Jade Leech

Just as Floyd , he doesn't mind you being a girl . He actually appreciates you even more now. Night Raven College isn't a place for weak people and still , to think that a small human girl like you could last this long here... Farewell , human beings can be really interesting he can tell

He gently offers you his coat and escorts you to a warmer place , telling you to change into something dry before you catch a cold

Well the first day is nothing different or weird , but the upcoming days prove how creepy he can be...

He doesn't mind popping up out of nowhere to tell you to choose underwears with a less noticable color at school and it just makes you melt ; not just because it's embarrassing to be told so but also because it proved that Jade is watching you

He does do some research on surface females to get to know the differences between what he expected you to be and what you really are better ; not that he has a complaint though

Jamil Viper

He exactly knows what he just saw there and - He can't help but to feel ashamed . For once he leaves without taking Kalim with him , he just forgot him a the moment

He now feels... angry . You never ever shared your gender but it's not like he ever expected you to be a girl . He feels lied to ; you didn't ever tell the truth but didn't lie either ; that bugs him even more because he doesn't know if he's mad at you or not

Well he now knows when someone you thought you know ends up being something totally different ; like the way Kalim saw who he really is...well that's really annoying to think of

Jamil ignores you for a few days until you come to ask why he's avoiding you . He insists that it's nothing all though it's obvious that it is-

Alright , a few days until he cools down . He wants to keep the distance till then

Knowing your gender often makes him feel ashamed of how casually he's been treating you . Well a lot of things are different when it's an all boy school , right ?

He doesn't know if he should act cooler with you from now or pretend that he never saw anything , he needs time to make up his mind

Kalim al Asim

He was giving you a towel to dry yourself when he recognized your clothes . He was actually thinking of bringing you some dry ones when he saw what he wished he didn't saw- Aaah why would you wear such a recognizable bra : " (y/n)..??"

He quickly pulls back and apologizes ; not that you know what he is apologizing for

He returns to Jamil and tells him to leave , he just can't face you right now

There at Scarabia , Kalim tells Jamil everything since he really needs to share some feelings . He asks Jamil if he knew about this and he certainly didn't

Kalim now keeps wondering... how hard might it be for you ? A girl sorrounded by all guys out there , do you feel safe ?

He now has decided to look after you more than he already did , he just doesn't want you feeling any sad or lonely because of your current situation

He always hated loneliness and that's why he needed Jamil around , now it's your turn to have Kalim around so you'll never be alone

Vil Schoenheit

Vil is well familiar with all beauty materials - including feminine underwear - so he quickly realizes both the unusual size of your chest and the vibrantly colored bra under your clothes . He wishes he hadn't

Bearing the fact that he was having a girl beside him all this time is already hard enough , but what makes it worse is what a terrible female he thinks you are now

You seriously do need a start over ! You are no girl if you're this ignorant toward your appearance even as it makes you look like a guy

He spends all night thinking of what he now should do with you . He does know how to manage guys but girls ? That won't be called something he had much experience on

He isn't feeling as comfortable as before with you yet , he decides to give you some lessons to at least pull you out of your non feminine self

He doesn't mind telling you that you have to do a lot more for yourself as you are a girl ; and he says it as if he knew it all this time

He isn't going to turn you into a princess , it's safer for you to remain something between male and female as you are stuck between all these untrustworthy guys , but it doesn't hold him back from giving you some chance to see your female self. He brings you wigs and puts on your makeup , telling you that you sometimes need to show up like this

He still needs some time to feel as comfortable as he used to with you , but spending time with you trying to have a start over is actually helping him to like you even more than he used to

Rook Hunt

Well congrats , for so long no one had ever succeeded to shock Rook like you did ! That's an improvement . He always makes sure not miss a single detail about those he has his eyes on ; yet he failed to even recognize your gender correctly until now

A bit of fascination won't hurt , right ? After all having a boy like Epel beside him makes it really confusing to specify male and female sometimes

To be honest , he now finds you pretty fragile and helpless : Bunny between the beasts

If a hunter like him didn't know it so far , then probably no one else knew it either . So that's his little secret now

This place's a considerably dangerous zone for a lady to step on , and Rook isn't planning on exposing you like this . He isn't a monster after all...

But having Rook of all people knowing your secret is already enough of torture , isn't it ?

Epel Felmier

I-I thought we were the same...???

This can't be true , this shouldn't be ! Please don't be , please , please , please

Epel looked up to you bot only as a reliable and strong friend but also as someone who goes through similar appearance problems as Epel himself did

You made him feel better that he wasn't the only one having problems with looking too similar to girls ; seems like he was wrong

Epel wasn't ever comfortable with getting close to girls , along becoming a friend of them . He even kept you closer than his other friends since the too of you could relate a lot he thought ; now what should he do ?

He is too embarrassed to even look into your eyes now , he even skips classes you two share and in summary , does anything to avoid you for a while

That is said that girls and boys can never be just friends and... that's frustrating

Now , could the two of you ever be as close as you used to be again?

Idia Shroud

Which is worse , realizing that he's been spending all his time with a girl over the past few months or seeing her wet breasts during the class ?Man , that looked just like those anime hentais one would find online...

Beside that , having your gender exposed makes him feel a bit unsafe about his relationship with you ; if even a simple thing such as gender could be different from what he was expecting you , then what greater differences would your reality have from the (y/n) you were into his eyes ?

Idia hardly ever gets to fully trust anyone and now he isn't sure if he could trust you anymore . Well yes gender might be no big deal compared to the fearful thoughts he is having at mind ; but it's enough to send him into his safe zone and stay away from you

His face turns red and hot whenever he thinks of that scene even when he's all alone in his bedroom , God he wasn't prepared-

Ortho finally forces him to tell what's bothering him and when he confesses , Ortho gets really excited . He keeps telling Idia that as a friend , he has to stay by your side specially because you may feel lonely being a girl all on your own . He reminds Idia of the fact that this is what friends do

He now feels sorry for abandoning you like a coward , but he has to admit that it's a bit hard for him to return the old friendship you two had . Well maybe just texting you instead of face to face interaction would be better ?

Malleus Draconia

uh..? A girl...? Child of man caught in an unknown world and... That's a female . You keep fascinating him over and over ever since he met you , it's just another surprise he can tell

He kinda loses all his focus during the pe class after he accidentally notices the unusual knobs popping under your T-shirt ; are you wearing something wrapped around your...chest ?

He first thinks that it may just be somewhat of a brand new clothing trend to wear feminine-like stuff ; but remembering how you never clearly stated your gender , he now understands how wrong he was

He thought that he had you under his watch pretty well , but he even failed to realize your gender correctly ; perhaps he should learn to do it better

Malleus isn't about to treat you any differently just because you ended up being a girl , all though he has to agree that it was a bit shocking . But in general , nothing about your relationship really seems to be gender related

You don't know his name and he didn't know your gender until now ; is this how karma works ? Well that'd be a bit unfair , gender was rather worthless compared to the fear his real identity might bring you

The only thing that may change now is him being more protective over you ; not that he underestimates you but rather because there's no way for you to be totally comfortable in a school filled with rebellious guys . He wants to make sure that his currently favorite human being won't get in much trouble because of that...

Lilia Vanrouge

Eh ? Through out his hundred-year life this would be the most shameful thing he got to face . You might think that he found it to be a disgrace to his long lasting life which is filled with honor and pride ; but in that case you may like to get to know the old man better

He doesn't like being thought of as a pervert ; but it doesn't mean that he didn't enjoy himself either. Naked figures or seductive girls aren't something he gets overly excited about , same goes for you . Well accidents like this can happen everyday , right ? But this one had something rather fun along with it :

From the direct yet neutral gaze he gave your chest , you immediately realized what he was looking at and you pulled back . Lilia didn't expect you to notice it so quickly , but the embarrassed face you gave him afterwards , that was priceless

He giggles softly at the thought , a shy and cute little girl . He isn't really a fan of boys that are overly cute or childish , but when it comes to little girls , that's another story

You had already caught his eyes by being the only human being caught in this school on your own . Well , to see how feeble and shy you sometimes could be , that reminded him of Silver

Now now , what should he do ? Playing the role of a small girl's parents or something ? Doesn't sound that bad

Sebek Zigvolt

Gasp

He's about to lose his mind - he feels like he has saw you totally naked or lurked into your privacy , he feels awful

He runs to another corner to cool down from what he saw - Damn- That scene doesn't get away from his eyes for a second

Well then , take deep breathes , it's cool , it's fine - it's gonna be fine

Sebek wouldn't dare talking to you for sometime after that . His cheeks get warmer whenever he sees you around , making him change his direction to avoid you

When you finally get him to talk to you , he breaks off- He starts apologizing . He swears not to ever peek on your body again and that he won't say a word from what he saw

You probably don't know what he is talking about , but you say okay to calm him down

Sebek isn't used to having girls around but now that he does , he should be really careful . He doesn't want you to think of him as a antisocial chick when it comes to women and he tries his best to be a gentleman in front of you . Man...he really does take it seriously

Silver

A... girl?... Silver's first reaction would be nothing different from blushing and turning back ; what else would you expect him to do ?

He's a simple guy , he doesn't overreact but doesn't feel totally comfortable either

He didn't ever even think of the possibility of you being a girl , he just isn't used to having anyone else than boys in NRC around . You did always look too cute for a guy but still , he didn't see this coming...

(y/n) is a girl...A girl , this thought gets looped inside his brain . He can't stop freaking out over it . It feels like he's been building a sand castle on water all this time and now he's watching it sink . His whole expectations of you seems to be ruined

It gets even worse when the figure of you dressed in a long beautiful dress , holding a brilliant crown of your flowers on your long silky hair haunts him on his dreams - Why on earth do you have to be so beautiful (y/n)..!?

Silver refuses to accept , but he's pretty soft when it comes to girls . He's pretty shy but to have a girl he has been liking for sometime close...his inner self is getting teased - in a pleasant way

He doesn't show up in front of you for a while , but he just can't get the thought of you out of his mind . From reality to dreams , seems like you're always in front of him . As if you really walked with him once upon a dream

[blackberry-gingham]

Can I request a cute Ringo x Reader where Ringo falls for the reader who’s just an assistant in the neighboring recording studio from theirs?😆❤️ and the reader is extremely shy haha

😂😂😂 I was actually referring to my very long list of drafts and requests, but I do appreciate the eagerness to help a bored girl out, so I’ll do this one now anyway haha. Besides, Ringo needs more solo fics on this blog and shy reader is always a good one 😌🥺 Thank you, and enjoy!

---

The old florescent lights hum overhead, flooding the recording room with a bright, hot light. Ringo wipes the back of his palm across his forehead, vaguely listening to John, Paul, and George as they discuss some tweaks they should make to that last recording or so. Paul never seems to be satisfied, and now John and George have teamed up to start bickering with him. Their alliance does not matter however, as it would appear Paul has no plans to budge.

Their voices get louder and louder, and Ringo lights up a cigarette in the meantime, hoping it’ll help with the pounding in his head. Doesn’t he get a say in all this? The others may not say it, but he knows what they think. He’s the weakest link here, “Just the drummer, not even a very great one”, or some rubbish like that. 

John slams his guitar down onto its stand with a twang ad now he’s dangerously close to being up in Paul’s face as he continues to argue. George appears as though he’s about to fall back and mediate the situation he helped escalate, but before anyone can do anything, Brian slams the door open, “That’s enough now! Get out and cool off, the three of you!”, he shakes his head out and rubs it as though it’s hurting him, before taking his leave.

“Fine by me!”, Paul gives John a pointed look and storms off, with the other two making similar statements and following close, but not too close, behind.

And poor little Ringo is left alone. Forgotten. 

Suddenly the room feels cold, like the vacuum of space, and Ringo himself is the one feeling hot. He knows he’s not one of the star trio, but how about a little respect, eh? Maybe a “you’re doing great Ringo?” Or, “you can take five, too?”

But no, nothing of the sort.

Ringo’s face twists into a scowl as these thought swirl through his mind. He’s as much a member of this band as any of the other three! This isn’t fair! On that note, he smashes his cigarette into a nearby ashtray and jumps up from his stool as it clatters to the floor. You know what? He needs more then a break. He needs some fresh air.

With a head full of steam, he stomps down the stairwell and through the hall, all the way to the big, double glass doors. He only stops when the sound of pouring rain breaks through the fog of his thoughts. The rain is coming down in droves, thundering in a flurry of drops off of the sidewalk, and not a single soul can be seen outside. 

For a moment, he considers turning around and going back to the studio. Or perhaps finding an abandoned break room, away from the others, and blowing off steam there, but...

No. He shakes out his head and heaves the heavy door open out into the downpour. He’s had enough of this whole damn building, and he’s not going to let a little rain stop him from getting the break he needs.

Ringo walks and walks as the icy water soaks through his fine suit, to his skin, and down to his very bones. Perhaps this wasn’t the wisest decision, he thinks. He takes a few more steps, trying to tough it out, but after a window rattling sneeze he decides to duck into the next building he can. This whole street is made up of little recording studios, so it’s not as much of a change of scenery as he’d have liked... but at least it’s something.

A corridor filled with office doors stretches out before him and, rather then continue leaking a little pool here in the entry way, he decides to go find somewhere to take a load off. 

Ugh, he feels absolutely filled with water, like a damn sink sponge. Ringo tilts his head to the side as he sloshes along and bangs the side of his head, hoping to dislodge some water. It seems to be having some effect at least, and just as he’s about to switch ears, an unexpected collision knocks him on his back.

“Tsk, oh no no no...”

A timid voice mutters softly, and even through his waterlogged ears, Ringo can hear the sound of scuffling and paper shuffling. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry! Um, are you... alright?”

Ringo sits up, but his soaked mop top is completely obscuring his vision. He can only imagine how silly he must look to you right now, sopping wet and a full curtain of hair hiding nearly everything except, of course, his bulbous nose. Great. He huffs, and parts his bangs with both hands to see you.

You look about as shy as you sound, and perhaps even a little afraid. But also... kind, and sweet, and caring, and... Pretty. So pretty...

“Oh! Ringo! I um... I’m such a big fan...”, you laugh nervously, and despite the warm words, your face seems caught in some sort of a wince as you go about busying yourself with picking up your stack of papers and folders.

But he doesn’t want you to be scared. Or nervous, or intimidated, or stressed, or... or anything like that! He wants to see that concerned, but sweet smile he heard you wearing when you were first talking and didn’t know who he was. He sees the very faint little lines by the corners of your nostrils, and just by that he knows you like to laugh. He sees how eager you are to collect these things and go about your day, and he feels a connection to you through it. He knows what that’s like... running around and doing other people’s business. 

Hop to it! 

We need this done like that!

Don’t mess this up!

All of it.

Ringo hurries around to scramble onto his knees with you, “Oh no no, I’m sorry! Here, let me help...” He snatches up some stray pages into a nice stack, and as much as you want to tell him it’s ok and he doesn’t have to, you can’t bring yourself to say a peep.

The two of you work in harmony, and as you finally reach for the last sheet, it would seem Ringo has the same idea. Your hand touches down on it first, with his finding it’s way right over top of yours. It’s surprisingly big, particularly compared to yours, and while you blush at the thoughts it’s giving you, Ringo is thankfully too distracted by how soft and perfect your skin feels under his callused paw.

You come to your senses quickly though, forcing yourself to snap out of your daydreams. Nervous energy takes over and you jerk your hand away a little too roughly. “Ahem, sorry but I really mu- ow” You put the last paper on your stack and set the whole thing down to cradle your hand. A small cut has been made on your knuckle and a fine line of blood begins to seep out.

Ringo looks guiltily from your injury to his ornately engraved ring, the culprit of your little gash. He bites his bottom lip and adds his papers to yours, before scooting closer. “I uh, I-I’m so sorry. Uh here, here...”, he pulls out a handkerchief from inside his suit jacket and goes to apply it to your now freely bleeding cut.

“Oh, you don’t have to-!”

“No no, I insist! It’s the least I can do...”, he looks up at you almost pleadingly. Anything he can do to communicate to you how badly he wants to help.

With your go ahead, he gently wraps up your hand with a neat little bow underneath. He holds your hand in both of his, offering it timidly to show you his work,“...Better?”

Relived, you smile sweetly at him, and it’s even more wonderful of a sight then he imagined, “Yes, thank you... Still hurts a bit though”, you chuckle.

“Oh... I know a trick to help with that!”, Ringo smiles cheerily, gently grasping your fingers in one hand and slides his other down to support your elbow as he brings your knuckles to his lips. They’re thick and soft and warm... and as though a soothing fireplace has been lit beside you, suddenly it feels as though any rainy day chills or frayed nerves have been purged from your body. 

His lips linger on your knuckles for a few extra seconds, and when he comes up to the shy, but blissful smile you’re wearing, he thinks in that moment that nothing would make him happier then to see you happy... But knowing he was the one to give you that smile... He’s over joyed. 

And with a fleeting thought, he wishes he could give you a smile like that every day. He finds it that adorably endearing...

He brushes his hair out of his face once more, still holding your hand, and gives you a toothy grin as he huffs a nervous laugh of his own. His eyes are caught on yours now, and how sparkly and vibrant they are. He can’t bear to tear his gaze away, even as he asks, “I... uh... C-can I help you take your papers?”

You give a tiny, melodic laugh and the sound of it sends Ringo’s heart pounding with excitement. With your free hand, you return a stray loc of hair to the rest of his side swept bangs and when his face is all clear, you press a soft, timid kiss to the tip of his long, round nose. 

“I’d love that...”

[daretosnoop]

Chapter 4: Bad Girlfriend

Chapter 3

The chapter some of y’all have been wanting since this game came out. I hope the story is interesting so far. 

Henry told Renee their plans, then brought Nancy upstairs to the guest room. It was a simple room, if a little bland for colour. Henry supposed his uncle had some notion of social etiquette given that many people would probably not take to his interior design choices. Renee entered soon with a bundle of clothes.

“Not sure what would fit you dear or what your preference is so I brought some of my clothes, Dr. Bruno’s clothes, and some random pieces stored over time”.

Nancy thanked her and both Renee and Henry went downstairs.

“I’ll make a little night snack for your sleepover,” Renee said as she headed for the kitchen. Henry followed her.

“Don’t trouble yourself. And it’s not a sleepover. We don’t have a choice given the weather”.

“You could have always dropped her home”.

“I, I can’t do that on rainy nights”.

Renee paused in powdering the beignets. She looked at Henry and nodded.

“Could have asked me. I don’t mind”.

Henry shrugged and Renee just smiled and returned to her beignets. She placed two on two plates and poured out a glass of cold milk.

“In the morning, y’all can have them with coffee”.

She then wished Henry good night and went out the kitchen towards the stairs. On the landing, she suddenly felt a chill run across her back and turned to see Nancy peering over the model cemetery.

“I’ve seen it too,” she suddenly called out.

Nancy whirled around, startled by the voice.

“Seen who?”

“The skeleton man”.

Nancy’s face became serious as she headed towards Renee.

“What have you seen?”

“I don’t even want to talk about it. All I know is that I saw it, that thing. Soon after seeing it, strange sounds came from my room”

“What did you do?”

Renee looked up proudly. “I found a solution in my book. Used my powers in hoodoo to put up a spell,” Renee placed a hand around her little pouch necklace. “It worked too. Those sounds stopped”.

“Did the skeleton man stop? Was it just the one time you saw him or did you see him repeatedly? Do you think there is a connection between the sound and the man? Did you tell Dr. Bolet? What did he say? Did he believe you?”

“Goodness child,” Renee laughed though it did not reach her eyes. “You sure are inquisitive”.

Nancy shrugged.

“Well, I admire your tenacity child, just be careful. There are powers far beyond mere mortals. The best we can, and should, do is protect ourselves and not dare challenge the powers”.

Renee said nothing to Nancy’s perplexed face. There really was nothing to tell the girl. She would either play it safe, or learn the hard way. She told Nancy of the food she placed out and bid her goodnight.

 Nancy was surprised to see Henry in the kitchen. He had started on one of the beignets but his attention was clearly on his phone.

“Bad news?” Nancy asked, reading his face.

Henry started, blinked at her while he processed her question, then hummed and took another bite of the beignet.

I wonder if it’s that Summer person?

She started on a beignet and thought over her case. She’d called Bess soon after changing her clothes. Half-asleep Bess barely registered everything Nancy told her but somehow understood that Nancy was not coming home tonight. Nancy didn’t know when Henry was going to sleep, but she hopped it was soon. He was still a suspect and nighttime was always optimal for snooping.

“Find everything okay?” Henry asked.

Mouth still stuffed with food, Nancy nodded.

“Put my clothes to dry so I can wear them tomorrow. I plan on calling professor Hotchkiss and then going from there”.

With a beignet half in his mouth, Henry looked at her, eyes wide.

“You mean, you intend on continuing?”

“Duh”.

“What if I say no?”

“Then I guess I’ll have to go. I’ll go and forever lament this unsolved case to my friends,” Nancy waved her hands about, exaggerating the tragedy Henry’s refusal would cause her.

Henry’s lips twitched.

“You’re stubborn”.

Nancy gave him a cheeky smile.

“Good friends are”.

They chatted amicably on Nancy’s previous cases until the beignets finished. Henry immediately took the dishes and washed them. He then nodded at Nancy before heading towards the study.

“How long do you stay up?” Nancy asked.

Henry shrugged. “Depends on the work”.

Darn. Hate those answers.

With nothing better to do, Nancy bid Henry good night and went to her room. She fiddled with the number she had for professor Hotchkiss and thought over the night’s events. Not able to think of anything new, she searched up hoodoo, the Bolets, and New Orleans on her phone. Something sinister was afoot in this house.

At around 10:45 p.m. Nancy heard footsteps climb up the stairs and a door open. She waited a while longer, and when she was sure Henry was not planning on leaving his room, she quietly opened her door and walked down the stairs with her torch. Thankfully, the stairs did not creak. Nancy opened the door to the study and crept towards the desk. Looking around quickly and finding no one, Nancy sat on the chair and grinned.

 She meticulously searched through all of Henry’s papers, but could find nothing relevant. She then looked through the desk drawers but only found a keychain with an eyeball. Strange, but again, not relevant. Henry had left his computer on the desk and of course, it was locked. Nancy thought over any possible passwords. Bolet didn’t work. Henry’s name didn’t work. Don’t tell me. She typed out Summer and logged in. There was nothing relevant on Henry’s laptop though Nancy did see an email from Dr. Buford’s medical clinic. It was an invoice for a paid bill. Myocardial Infraction. Dr. Bolet’s cause of death.

Nancy looked through the rest of Henry’s emails but found nothing of relevance their either. Not even in the junk and deleted folders. She fell back onto the chair and sighed. Then her eyes caught the rubbish bin beneath the desk and she reached out for it. She read each memo, card, and invite but found nothing of interest. She then picked up an envelope. It was from Milo Research and Technology, and addressed to Bruno Bolet. There was an address but no number. She put the envelope aside and continued to dig. There were some pieces of paper in intelligible handwriting, but Nancy did catch the word skull repeated so she put them with the envelope.

Finding nothing else, Nancy stood up and carried her clues back up the stairs. As she climbed she happened to look up and felt her heart freeze. There, by the flower vase, she could almost swear she was seeing Renee’s eyes watching her. But that was ridiculous. Renee was not there. Nancy took a deep breath and slowly let it out as she went back to her room.

 After breakfast, Nancy went back to her French quarter hotel and was greeted by a frantic Bess.

“Nancy! Where were you?”

“Bess, I called and told you that I would be staying the night at Henry’s place”.

“You know I can’t remember anything told to me when I’m half asleep!”

Bess sighed loudly before looking behind Nancy at the man who was standing awkwardly at the front door. Following her gaze, Nancy introduced Bess to Henry and soon Bess had ushered him in for tea. As the trio sat around the table, Nancy filled Bess in with what had happened to her and what her plans were. Bess’s face fell when she learned that her friend was, again, bailing on her to pursue a case. She knew Nancy meant well, and to be honest, helping Nancy with a case was more fun than a traditional vacation, but Nancy had just gotten back from Alberta from another case. It would have been nice to have some time in the warmth before she whisked off again.

“Will you help me Bess?”

Nancy’s words broke Bess out of her thoughts. She wasn’t paying attention.

“Uh, help you with what?”

“Finding out some information. Just background research. Nothing dangerous”.

“Nancy,”

“Please?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be on standby. The sooner you solve this, the sooner we can get back to our vacation”.

Bess turned to glare at Henry.

“You could have just told her no, you know”.

The man shrugged and Bess could tell from his face that he had tried, Nancy just didn’t listen. She never could catch hidden tones very well, but it was probably a good thing. She wouldn’t be a good detective if she was constantly hampered by emotional cues.

Nancy got up to pack her bags. Alone with Henry, Bess found herself not knowing what to say. The man was a complete stranger, even if he was dressed smartly, and even if he did carry himself with a certain grace. It was interesting to see that despite his outwardly appearance, Henry exhibited a lot of manners. He hardly made his presence known and it was only after Nancy left that Bess took a good look at Henry.

“So, how do you know Ned?”

“We’re classmates”.

Bess nodded and silence overfell both of them again.

“Do you like tea?” Bess asked.

“Yes. It’s nice”.

That’s it? Just nice? C’mon, give me more to work with! Henry was a walking enigma and it infuriated Bess.

“I’m sorry about Nancy. She can be,” Bess moved her hands to emphasize, “much”.

Henry snorted into his tea.

“But her intuition is always right, or close to it. Whatever it is your uncle’s hiding, she’ll figure it out. Don’t worry”.

“I’m not worried. I just don’t think there is anything worth finding out”.

“So you’re okay with letting possible treasure, a priceless artifact, go undetected?”

“Doesn’t really mean much to me?”

“What if it meant something to your family?”

“I’m the only living relative of my family, and since I know nothing about my family, the treasure or whatever uncle Bruno may be hiding might as well not exist”.

Bess didn’t know what to say to that, and they finished their tea in silence. Nancy came in and plopped in front of Bess.

“Bess. I need you to look into someone. His name is Gilbert Buford. Dr. Buford was Dr. Bolet’s heart doctor. Apparently they were also friends”.

“What do you want me to ask him?”

“Ask him what he knew about Dr. Bolet. If Dr. Bolet ever confided anything to anyone, his friend would probably know—right?”

“I suppose”.

Bess glanced towards Henry.

“Is it okay if I do this? Or am I breaking some law here?”

“Don’t think so. If you are, I guess you can just say that I’m asking you to do this”.

“Great!” Nancy beamed and all but dragged Henry outside.

Bess sighed and pulled out her phone to look up medical clinics, but stopped when she heard Nancy come back in. She wore a serious expression.

“Bess. I need you to do something else”.

Nancy handed her a piece of paper that said ‘Zeke’s’ on it.

“I need you to see if there is some store called Zeke. Then I need you to go in and ask if Henry Bolet or Renee Amande ever sold anything recently”.

Bess slowly lowered her phone.

“You, you suspect Henry and Renee?”

“You know the drill Bess, everyone’s a suspect”.

“But, for what?”

“For being the skeleton man. I’m following up on every lead I have. Couldn’t tell you earlier because,” Nancy nudged her head towards the door.

“How does this place relate to a skeleton man?”

“Don’t know yet, but I know it was burned recently. Renee mentioned she keeps the place spotless. She couldn’t possible have overlooked the fire place if it was burnt a while ago”.

“Alright”.

Nancy thanked Bess then headed out the door.

 Henry drove them back to the Bolet manor and went towards his desk. Nancy pulled out her phone and dialed professor Hotchkiss. No one picked up, but Nancy was not surprised. Professor Hotchkiss was probably off doing research or some other wacky project. She left a message asking professor Hotchkiss to call back to discuss a book she recently wrote.

She had no other lead to follow and so went out to the gardens. Renee was not there and Nancy took her chance to snoop. There was a shovel on one wall and some other gardening tools hanging about. For the most part, it looked like a garden. Even the plants seemed common place. Finding nothing suspicious, Nancy turned to leave the garden and came face-to-face with Renee.

“Can I help you dear?”

“Oh, I was actually looking for you,” Nancy spoke placidly. She was a little startled by Renee’s sudden appearance, but quickly recovered when she saw the pouch necklace Renee always wore.

“I was going to ask you, what’s in that necklace”.

Renee closed her hand around the pouch and Nancy could have sworn she saw anger flash through her eyes.

“This is my connection to the forces of the universe. Their elemental powers course through me when I wear this”.

Nancy stared at her and Renee scoffed.

“Well, least you didn’t laugh. How else can I help you?”

“Well, what can you tell me about Dr. Bolet?”

“Recluse. Obsessive. Neither jolly nor morose, but there was always a soberness that clung to him. It’s as if he refused to let himself be happy. Not very picky either. So long as I left him alone and kept the house, he didn’t care about what I did in my free time”.

Renee gave a soft smile. “We had a great working relationship. It’s rare to have in the housekeeping business”.

“How did you come to work for Dr. Bolet?”

“Answered a paper advertisement,” Renee answered quickly.

“Did he ever talk about his family?”

“Very little”.

“What did he say?”

“That his parents died when he was in his thirties. He had a younger brother whom he adored. Loved his sister-in-law, and had no desire to get married”.

There was barely anything to work with, still, Nancy persisted.

“Dr. Bolet was alone his whole life? Even after his brother’s death”.

Renee pressed her lips into a thin line.

“From what I’ve come to understand, Dr. Bolet loved his brother and when he died, he essentially lost a part of himself. Whatever was left came out only through his eccentricities”.

There was nothing of use in anything Renee mentioned. She tried a different angle.

“Do you know how Dr. Bolet died?”

“Oh yes,” Renee’s eyes took on a far-away look. “I was. I was there when he died. I saw him fall, on the threshold”. Renee placed a hand on her shoulder and looked down. “I thought, maybe, he just stumbled. Maybe got knocked unconscious, but Dr. Buford was there and he said it was a heart attack”.

Nancy looked sharply at Renee.

“Dr. Buford was there on the night Dr. Bolet died?”

“Yes. I suppose he came to visit Dr. Bolet”.

“Does he regularly visit Dr. Bolet?”

“No. Usually Dr. Bolet visits, but I suppose given his age. It must have been easier for Dr. Buford to come. Or maybe he wanted something. Either way, he was there”.

“What was Dr. Bolet doing on the threshold?”

Renee scrunched her face and held a finger to her lips. She still did not look at Nancy.

“I don’t remember quite well, but I think he was reading something. A letter perhaps?”

Excitement rose through Nancy.

“Do you still have the letter? Can I see it?”

“Sorry dear. I don’t know where it’s gotten to”.

Renee gave Nancy a tight smile and pointed towards the plants. Nancy took her cue to leave Renee and head back into the manor. She went back to her room and searched up Gilbert Buford, New Orleans. There were three Gilbert Bufords, but only one had a medical clinic. Nancy dialed the number and waited for the receptionist. The receptionist told her that Dr. Buford was not working full-time anymore.

“He only comes in for urgent situations and requests”.

“Where can I find him outside of the clinic?”

“I’m not authorized to give you that information”.

Nancy was fed up of facing blockades that interrupted her investigation. It was as if the whole of New Orleans didn’t want the mystery that was Bruno Bolet to come apart. She decided to take a risk.

“I really need to talk to him,” she said, softening her voice to add grief. “You see, we had a mutual friend who recently died, and I-I just need to talk to him”.

“Need some consoling?” The nurse empathized.

“Yes! Exactly! I need, that”.

“Well, alright. I guess it’s okay given the circumstance. Dr. Buford generally spends his time in the French quarters. He lives nearby and frequents a Cajun truck stop at Rampart and Dumaine. Claims it’s the best gumbo New Orleans has. I’d contest him on that though. Nothing beats a fine gumbo than my own Bluefoot’s Gumbo”.

Rampart and Dumaine? Jackpot!

“Thank you so much”.

“No problem,” the receptionist replied. “And I hope you get the help you need for your friend”.

“Oh, yes. I will. Thanks. I feel better already.” Saying so, Nancy quickly hung up and called Bess.

“Bess, he’s in Rampart and Dumaine!”

“Who?” Bess asked, her voice laced with sleep.

“Gilbert Buford. I called his clinic. They said he spends his time nearby a Cajun food truck”.

“Hang on”. Bess muttered and Nancy could hear her wrestling out of the bed and walking around.

“I’m in the balcony now”.

“What do you see?”

“I see a food truck called ‘Granny’s Cajun Cooking’”

“And?”

“And no one else. It’s pretty busy right now, but no one is sitting around the food truck”.

Nancy sighed. “Must be too early in the day”.

“Or hot, it’s the middle of the afternoon. But I’ll keep any eye out, okay?”

Another dead end. It seemed that for every inch of progress Nancy made, there was a foot of backlash.

“Hey Nancy,” Bess’s voice called urgently. “You won’t believe what’s in front of our hotel. It’s the name, ‘Zeke’. It’s a curio shop!”

“Bess, you gotta get right down there and ask those questions!”

“I’m on it,” Bess replied with determination and hung up.

 Nancy wandered around the gardens, looking for a clue that would help her understand the spider lock. Neither Renee nor Henry understood the lock, nor did they know if Bruno kept a pet spider. Renee eventually mentioned that she’d often see Dr. Bolet standing in certain spots around the garden. Sometimes he looked up to the sky, and other times, he was peering down. At times, he’d even bend over and inspect the base of the fountain that rested in the centre of the garden.

Carefully, Nancy crept around the fountain. The rain had made the soil muddy so she could not walk within the base. Thankfully, she did not need to. There was a hole surrounded by overlapping wires nestled into the soil ground. Nancy pulled out her phone to confirm her suspicion. The wire web before her matched the lock image on her phone. They’re keys, she realized. Musical keys. Each wire twanged a musical note. Looking at the image on her phone, she realized that the dashes extending out of each wire varied in number. So each dash must corroborate to a number—an order perhaps? But what would it release? She assumed it must be another key given that she was trying to open another locked door. Peering down into the hole, she saw a bronze key and the legs of a giant tarantula. Nancy could face anything, had faced everything, even certain death. She’d grown quite resilient in nature— but spiders, spiders were the one thing she just could not understand. I’d better get this right.

Carefully she pulled each wire in the order the lock indicated, and listened carefully to the note it played. She heard the mechanical sound of a platform being raised, and saw that the spider had backed off because the key was sitting upon a stand that was now rising to greet her. She nabbed the key and stuffed it into her front pocket. She turned around and saw Henry.

“What are you doing?” Henry asked.

“Oh you know,” Nancy shrugged then grinned. “Just testing theories out”.

Henry’s eyebrows quirked. “Discover anything, scientist?”

Nancy laughed. “Maybe,” she coyly answered.

Henry nodded but when he saw Nancy was not going to offer any more information, he let it go.

“Just going to take walk”.

“I’ll join you,” Nancy spoke suddenly.

“You will?”

It was a sudden decision, but Nancy did want to learn more about Henry. He might know more about his family, and Nancy wanted to know more about this Summer person. She might also be connected to this mystery—though, probably, very weakly connected.

They walked into the cemetery, Henry being a gentleman and opening the gate for Nancy.

“Thanks, but don’t bother. I’m your friend”.

“So I shouldn’t be nice to friends?” Henry countered.

“No, I meant. No need to be formal. Chill out a bit”.

“Yes, I suppose I could learn a bit about chilling out”. He gestured around the cemetery. “Think this is a good place to learn how?”

“Can’t be more chill than dead, can you?” Nancy teased and Henry laughed.

When they got to the Bolet mausoleum Nancy could sense Henry’s tension. One pain for another, I guess.

“So,” she started. “Tell me about Summer”.

Henry’s eyes snapped towards her, and without needing to look back, Nancy admitted that she overheard his conversation.

“Overheard?” Henry asked and Nancy knew what he was really asking.

“Well, you were loud enough. What was I to do? Cover my ears?”

Henry just sighed but didn’t say anything. Nancy tried a different angle.

“Friends help each other”.

“Why do you keep insisting we’re friends?”

“Because we are”

“People don’t just become friends in a day or because someone says so”.

“Then how do they become friends?”

Henry shrugged. “I dunno. Hang out a lot. Talk a lot. Eventually they come to rely on each other and feel safe and wanted around each other. They enjoy each other’s company”.

“Is that what you have with Summer?” Nancy asked softly.

Henry stopped walking and looked down. Nancy waited. She thought Henry would refuse to answer, or tell her to stop walking with him, or even cry, but slowly, Henry lifted his head and stared right at her.

“No”.

“So Summer’s not your friend?”

“No. She’s my girlfriend”.

“Your girlfriend can’t be your friend? Little ironic. It’s in the name”.

“It’s,” Henry scratched his ear. “It’s complicated. I like her, and I think she likes me back, but she can be so unpredictable it drives me nuts”.

“How so?”

“I never know what’s going to make her happy. Like just recently I— “Henry stopped and hesitated. “I always have to buy her things”.

Nancy’s mind began to whir.

“Have you tried talking to her about it?”

Henry nodded. “I did but she always gets very mad, and I’d rather not deal with her anger. Besides,” Henry pressed down hard on his lips. “I’m afraid if I don’t give her what she wants she’ll,” he pressed down harder and his lips disappeared into a thin line. “I’m afraid she’ll dump me”.

“What’s wrong with being dumped?”

Henry looked at her incredulously. “I couldn’t take it. She’s the only girlfriend I’ve ever had, and probably ever will have”.

Nancy did not understand Henry’s argument. “So you’d rather be unhappy with someone, then happy but alone”.

“I’m not unhappy when I’m with Summer,” Henry snapped.

“You just said you don’t consider her your friend,” Nancy argued, “and that you’re only staying with her out of fear”.

“What’s it to you?” Henry argued.

Shoot. Her inquisitive side had gotten her involved in emotional affairs again. Whoever said detective work required cold calculated minds was a god-damn liar. Henry must of have noticed the change in the air and quickly apologized for his behaviour.

Nancy rolled her eyes. “Look. I know I’m nosy. I probably shouldn’t have said anything. But I’m not that type of person. If something’s wrong, I usually try to figure it out, and seeing your behaviour, I feel you’re in the wrong relationship. I’m not going to tell you what to do, but if you don’t consider me as a friend, then consider this as advice from a stranger who’s sensing something’s wrong—you’re in a bad relationship. This Summer, she seems like someone who likes being provided for and taken care of”.

Henry crossed his arms against his chest. “And what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, if you’re okay with having such a relationship. But if you’re not, then what are you doing?” Nancy hesitated and carefully said her next words. “You’re going to make both of you unhappy, and eventually, one person is going to leave”.

“Oh, you’re a relationship detective now?” Henry spat.

“No,” Nancy said softly. She laced her fingers together in front of her. She could see the gates dividing the cemetery and garden. She walked ahead of Henry and opened the gate. Standing on the threshold, she looked back at Henry and smiled.

“I’m the bad girlfriend”.

[mysterioh]

𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 𝘯𝘰. 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 | 𝘣.𝘣.

Pairing: Devil!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: In order for the devil to steal his victim’s soul they must sign a contract. This is has never been a problem for Bucky before—until he met you. 

Words: 3.1K

A/N: This is based off a webtoon that I enjoy reading. You can find it here. I am in no way plagiarizing this author’s lovely work. I just had a stupid idea with Bucky. I am reposting because some lovely people asked me to. 

The sick divider is from @writeyourmindaway​ 

Who would’ve thought that something as colorless as water could make the clouds so dark? 

Above, the sky was colored in tumbling grays, thick and heavy with rain. Tugging on the hood of your black sweater, you quickened your pace. With your eyes on your feet, you rushed down the uneven slabs of concrete. Small pellets of rain hit the top of your head and trickle down the back of your drenched jacket. Your shoes are soaked, socks squishing under your skin with every step. 

A sense of cleanliness enwraps the atmosphere, and as the sky threatens for heavier downfall with mellow hums of thunder, teardrops threaten for release at the corner of your eyes. You sniff the tears away as your strides grow wider. 

A series of unfortunate events had fallen on your shoulders, one after the other without a pause. 

It started on Monday, when the landlady of the old, rundown apartment you lived in decided she was selling the place with only a two week’s notice to move out. Then on Tuesday, your professor refused to give you an extension on the paper you couldn’t finish because the power went out, causing a major blow to your hardly decent grade. Now it’s Wednesday. It’s cold and rainy. You’re soaked to the bone and fresh out of a job. It was a simple job at a family restaurant with a decent pay and good hours. You worked with every ounce of dedication in you, but simple dedication wasn’t a good excuse for mixed up orders and spilling cold beer on a customer’s pants. You had the manager pulling his hair from the roots, begging you to leave. 

Every step towards home grew heavier as your burdens started to bear their weight on your shoulders one by one. 

A single tear slid down your cheek, then another, and another. Your eyesight blurred and a dry ache formed in your throat as you stood there with the rain hurtling down on your head.. You drop to the ground and hide your face in your knees to muffle your whispered sobs. 

“My, my,” a husky voice croons, “you look absolutely miserable.” 

Your head whips up to find a man, handsome with broad shoulders, looking down at you. He was sleek and rugged at the same time. His ice blue eyes were a startling contrast to his dark hair. He’s crouched down to your level, arm propped up on his knee with the side of his face resting in his hand while the other held a black umbrella above the two of you. 

Startled, you fall back onto the wet sidewalk and out of the shelter of his umbrella. Bucky tilts his head to the side slowly, examining your features with cool steel eyes sharp enough to cut through iron. You sense something rotten underneath his sophisticated demeanor—something dark and dangerous, wild and ruthless. 

A wicked grin spreads across his pale features at the confusion and traces of fear written on your face. 

“Who are you?” you asked. 

He chuckles darkly, tilting the umbrella to cover you. 

“I’m the devil that’s come to save you.”

It rolls off his tongue sweetly, but drips with a deadly poison. “You’ve got it pretty bad. The apartment, then the crappy professor, and now your job.” 

Your eyes widen. “H-how do you know that?” you question. 

“I’ve been following you for some time, Y/N,” you bounce back when he says your name. “The big guy up there’s been pretty rough on ya,” he points to the sky. “But good thing, I’m here to help,” he smiles wide. “Now tell me—” he starts, he licks his lip like a predator ready to pounce. “what is it that you wish for?”

You remain silent, as if you were pondering on his question. Bucky smirks inwardly. 

“That’s it. Think stupid girl. Tell me your greatest desire and I’ll give you just that. All for the price of your pathetic little soul.” 

“Am I on television?” you ask him, turning your head from left to right, looking around for hidden cameras. 

Bucky blinks in confusion. 

“What?” he asks incredulously with furrowed brows. “No! You’re not on television. This is the real deal!” he hisses. “I’m a devil and I’m here to give you your heart’s desire.” 

“Oh,” you nodded calmly.

“Well?” 

“Well what?” 

“What is your wish?!” 

“Oh, um,” your words trailed, “I don’t really have one.” Bucky looks at you completely dumbfounded, You stand up and pull your drenched hood over your head. “But it was nice meeting you,” you walk past his crouched form. 

He jumps up and pulls you around by the shoulder. “That's not how this works!” he shouts at you. “You can’t just not have any wishes! Everyone wants something!” 

“But I don’t really need anything,” you shake your head innocently, pissing him off even more. 

He huffs. “You don’t have anything to begin with, stupid.” 

Your lips twist into a pout. “Just because I’m poor doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” 

“Yeah, well your grades say otherwise,” he jeers.

You gasp offensively. “You are not a nice person,” you point a scolding finger at him. 

He slaps your hand out of his face. “Hello? I’m the devil! I’m not supposed to be nice!” he bellowed. 

You huff, your wet hair flipping around as you stuck your nose in the air. “I don’t need anything from a mean guy like you.” You turn around and stomp down the sidewalk. 

Bucky watches your retreating form as raindrops trickle down the sides of his umbrella.  He clicks his tongue in indignation. 

He wasn’t going to let you go that easily.

“The class average was pretty low this time around,” your professor announced as he pulled out a stack of papers. “So I have decided to give a very generous curve that I believe most of you will appreciate very much.” 

A chorus of hushed cheers resounds in the room as the professor begins to call names one by one. 

Your heart hammers against your chest so hard that it feels like it’ll crack your ribs. You close your eyes and take slow, deep breaths, anxiously waiting for your name to be called. 

“Y/N,” he calls, swerving through the desks to get to you. He hands you your paper face down. If that’s not enough to tell you it was bad, the strained awkward smile he gave you really gave it away. 

You flip over the exam carefully to limit any nosy eyes from peeking your grade. Your heart plunges into your stomach at the giant red “D-” in the upper right corner of the paper. Letting out a deep exhale, you slump into your seat with a pained grimace. If you did this bad with the curve, how bad did you do without it? 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Bucky whispers in a deep, gravelly voice from behind. His hot breath tickles your skin, making the hairs on your neck stick straight up. “A “D”?” he reads off the paper. “And after you studied day and night for three days?” he says with a mocking lilt to his words. He shakes his head in pity. “What a shame.” 

You roll your eyes and tuck the exam into your folder then slip it into your bag. 

“How about I make it better?” he asks with a sultry smile. You get up and hook the bag over your shoulder and walk away. “C’mon, princess, what d’ya say?” he drawls. “You just gotta say the words and I’ll turn that D into an A.” he tempts, following behind, pushing past other students without them feeling a thing.  

No one can see or hear him but you. 

“Or better yet, turn that crappy GPA of yours into a pretty 4.0?” he raises the bar. “Wouldn’t that look real nice on your resume?”  

You refuse to give him even a second of your attention. Your eyes look onward while strutting down the hall like you didn’t just fail a curved exam. 

“Hey,” he states flatly. “Quit ignoring me.” 

You don’t utter a word, but simply smirk to get him riled up. 

His face contorts into a petulant snarl, hating the confidence that radiated from within you. 

“Don’t you feel bad at all?” he questions, flailing his arms. 

You turn to look at him and shrug. “I’ll just do better next time.” 

Bucky opens his mouth to speak but he’s speechless. He stands there, mouth open wide with furrowed brows, trying to figure out what to make out of you. 

Your lips lift slightly in amusement. He was a rather funny character for a devil. 

Bucky glares like a pouting child when a chuckle escapes your lips. Bright and sweet like a tuneful melody. It’s like a cat screeching to his ears. 

“The hell is wrong with you?” 

You turn the page of the textbook while sitting in the silence of the campus library. Your eyes are strictly on your book, walking along the trail of words that could bore anyone to death, but you can’t help but feel like someone’s staring at you. 

You peek from the top of your textbook and find the devil sitting in front of you. The textbook drops onto the desk. 

“You again,” you deadpan. 

“It’s me,” he chuckles mischievously.

“What do you want from me now?”

“Hand.”

“What?”

He clicks his tongue in impatience. He shakes his hand towards you. “Give me your hand.”

You cautiously place your hand on top of his. Streams of bright lights erupt from the ground and encircle the both of you. The next thing you hear are seagulls squawking and ocean waves crashing in the distance. 

You look around in confusion. 

“Where are we?!” you asked him. “Take me back!” 

Bucky simply smirks. “See that pretty house over there,” he points to the immaculate modern style mansion sitting on the cliff that hangs over the shore. “It costs two hundred million dollars and it’s all yours.” Your jaw goes slack in shock. Bucky snickers and pulls a golden contract and fancy pen out of his jacket. “All you have to do is sign this contract.” 

Your eyes flit between the mansion, him, and the contract, but don’t say anything. It’s hard for him to tell what you’re thinking so he asks eagerly.

“Well, what do you say?” 

A short pause.

“I’d like to go home please.” 

“Are you kidding me?” he exclaims. “I’m giving you this huge ass mansion and you wanna go back to that rusty old apartment?”

“A home is a home,” you point like a wise old philosopher. “No matter how small, no matter how big.” 

Bucky snorts at your stupidity. “But wouldn’t you rather have this big shiny house instead?” he asks sweetly like he’s trying to make a deal with a kid. “All you have to do is sign this contract and boom it’s all yours. No warranty. No money back guarantee.”

You bring a hand to your face and hum to yourself in contemplation. “There’s definitely a catch. You smell rotten.” 

Bucky grunts and shoves the contract and the pen into your chest. “Listen, punk, sign this contract right now or face my wrath,” he threatens in a sinister tone.

You shove the paper back into him. “I will not.” you retorted. “Now take me home,” you ordered.

Bucky gawks at your boldness. “Are you—Do you KNOW who you’re talking to right now?” he hisses. 

“A dumbass who doesn’t know what the word “no” means. Now take me home or else!” you shout at him. 

Bucky’s shoulders slump and his lips follow. 

“Give me your hand.” 

The rain hammering against the windows sounds like heaven knocking at your door. 

Relentlessly determined to gain your attention. Much like a certain someone who’s been following you around for the past week. For every minor inconvenience that came your way, he popped out of nowhere like a fairy godmother. A fairy godmother dressed in all black coaxing you into selling your soul to him. 

Wise men say “resist the devil and he shall flee”, but in your case he keeps on coming back.  And now he’s standing out in the rain on the tiny balcony of your apartment in protest. 

Fresh out of the shower, you head towards the kitchen and pull out a soda from the fridge and grab the pizza box you bought on the way home. 

Yeah, you’re broke, but you deserved this pizza. 

You walk to your living room and place the two on the table and look over to see Bucky glaring at you through the sliding door that led to the balcony. You placed your hands on your hips and glared back. He doesn’t waver, only tightens the scowl on his face. 

Getting on the devil’s bad side was obviously not a wise thing to do, but who said you cared? You weren’t ready to die and he wasn’t going to force you into it. 

You walk over to the balcony and open the door. “Would you like to come inside?” 

“No,” he says, teeth chattering softly due to the cold wind the rain brought. 

“‘Are you sure?” you asked nicely, “it’s pretty cold out here” 

“I am fine,” he lies. He sticks his hand on the inside of his jacket and pulls out the shining gold contract. “Sign it.” 

You huff. “I already told you no!” 

“But you have to!” 

“What do you mean I have to?” you questioned incredulously. “Who are you to tell me what to do? You’re not God.” 

He grumbles venomously. Despite the shivers running down your spine, you keep a straight face. No devil had the power to intimidate you. You stand tall and cross your arms. 

“You know what I think?” you ask, smirking at him. 

“What?”

“I think you follow me around because you’re lonely,” you spoke boldly. 

“Lonely? Me? Lonely?” he barks incredulously. “The entire world is mine! I don’t need anything from you!”

“Then why do you keep following me around?” you mused. 

“Because you’re on my list,” he explains.

“Why don’t you just skip over to the next one?” 

“Because I can’t, dumbass, that’s not how it works.” 

“Imagine having the entire world in your hand and you still have to follow some stupid rules,” you tease. “You’re probably not that powerful at all. You’re probably just lonely” 

Bucky growls. “Even if I was lonely, why would I want to spend time with a plain ass girl like you?” he hurls. “Have you seen me?” he points at himself. “Have you seen this sexy jawline?” he turns to show you the side of his face while running a hand across his jaw. “These smoldering blue eyes,” he points at his eyes. “I’m fucking gorgeous,” he states boldy. 

You roll your eyes at him as he continues. 

He opens his jacket just a bit. “This jacket? Dolce.” He picks up his foot. “These shoes? Gucci. And you?” he points at you. “You’ve been wearing that same old ugly hoodie for the past two weeks. I’m sick of looking at it.” 

“I’m not a psychologist but I think you might have a god complex,” you interrupt his spiel. 

He slides his fingers through his hair and tugs at the roots. “You’re not supposed to act like this,” he groaned. 

“And how am I supposed to act?” 

“Afraid!” he shouts. “You’re supposed to be afraid of me! Everyone is afraid of the devil. And you’re not! What are you, huh? An alien or some shit?” He crouches and sighs. “I swear you give me a headache.” 

You look down at him in pity. The man was just trying to do his job. 

Was your only job to cause others trouble? Even for the devil himself? 

 “I’m sorry about that,” you whispered, playing with the hem of your hoodie. 

He quickly stands up and whips out the gold contract again and hands it to you. “Then sign this.” 

You stomp on the ground with a huff and throw back at him. “I already told you. I’m not selling my soul to you.” You turn around with a sigh. “But I’ll leave this door open just in case you want to come inside.” 

“I’m not stepping into that shithole,” he sticks his nose in the air and crosses his arms. 

“Suit yourself then,” you shrug, walking away from him. You plop down on the couch and reach for a slice of slightly cold pizza while turning on the television. 

Bucky watches you from the door, snuggled up in a warm blanket, enjoying a peaceful Friday night  as he shivered in the rain. 

Your eyes are glued to the television while using everything in you. You felt that if you did, you’d lose the silent battle he was having with you. 

The couch dips as Bucky takes a seat next to you, arms crossed and eyes set on the television. You give him a side eye and chuckle quietly making him mutter curses underneath his breath. He’s kinda cute when he’s all grumpy like that. 

You reach over for a slice of pizza and offer it to him. He snatches it from your hand rudely, but you don’t mind. He takes a bite as you reach for another slice. 

“What are we watching?” he asked, chewing loudly. 

“Friends,” you replied. 

He clicks his tongue and waves his pizza around. “Even your taste in entertainment is plain.” 

“I’ve had a bad week, alright?” you snap at him. “So leave me alone.”

Bucky slumps into the sofa and quietly watches, trying his best not to laugh when someone makes a sarcastic comment or a stupid remark. He wasn’t going to show you that he enjoyed it. As the show progresses, Bucky becomes more invested in it’s characters, finally allowing a small smile to appear on his face. 

Bucky felt a soft thud against his shoulder and turned to find you sound asleep with your head resting against him. Scarlet red gushes on his cheeks and tints the tips of his ears as he sits frozen for a few minutes in silent panic. 

Should he move? Should he leave? 

Confused and embarrassed, the devil decided that he’d stay where he is. Bucky reaches over for another slice of pizza and falls back onto the couch, making sure you were resting comfortably against him. He takes the blanket and covers your shoulders so you wouldn’t get cold. 

Your steady breathing mingles with the soft murmurs coming from the television, running in harmony with the gentle pitter patter of the rain against the window sill. 

It’s peaceful and warm. It’s something that Bucky’s never experienced before but he likes it. 

“You’re gonna sign that damn contract or my name’s not Bucky Barnes,” he whispers as he starts to get comfortable. 

To him, you’re an enigma and although he’s never really taken a deep interest in his previous clients, he had to admit, you were kinda cute in a stupid kinda way. 

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Bucky Barnes Taglist: @infinity-saga​ @marvelloonie​ @chewymoustachio​ @my-drowning-in-time​ @shoesonpointe​ @buckybabyy​ @inactivewhore​ 

[rumbelleshowdown]

His Favorite Criminal

Author: Deshelved A/N:  Alternative cursed S7.  Prompts: a rainy winter night; buying ice cream; ignorance is bliss Group: C

It was pissing with rain. Weaver sipped his coffee out of the chipped tea cup that everybody knew only he used. He scowled out of his rain streaked office window that looked out onto the puddle riddled sidewalk. It was always pissing with rain in Seattle. There was about a month in May, when it was actually rather nice. But right now, it was winter. It was dark. It was cold. And it was pissing with rain. Earlier he’d sent Rogers out into the deluge to follow up on some leads and kept the paperwork portion of the workload for himself. Because of the weather, it was a quiet night in Hyperion Heights. Nothing to do but keep himself warm. He fingered the tea cup. It was comically elegant for a police precinct and no one knew how it had made it into the break room cupboard. Weaver didn’t know why he favored it, but he did, and he’d been using it for as long as he remembered.

A knock on the open door behind him interrupted his reverie. 

The officer in the doorway waved a manila folder in the air, “Got one for you.”

“For me?” Weaver bristled. He’d finished his paperwork earlier in the evening and had been waiting for Rogers to come back from the field with his report.  

The cop shrugged, “She said she’d only talk to you.” He took a few steps into the room and offered Weaver the folder.

Weaver left his spot by the window. She? Could be anyone. Possibly Roni, the local bar owner, with another complaint about being harassed by Victoria Belfry. Not that he’d do anything about it, but Roni tended to bring a bottle of MacCutcheon with her when she asked for favors and the supply in his lower right-hand desk drawer was running low. 

“Alright,” Weaver sighed, taking the folder without looking at it, “bring her in.” He walked back behind his desk, tossing the folder on top and adjusting the shirt sleeves he’d rolled up his forearms. 

Several pairs of footsteps, including a pair of high heels approached his door. He looked up and a woman stumbled around the corner, two officers on either side, one gripping her upper arm. She wrenched her arm out of his grasp, “I told you, I know my way.” She rubbed where the officer had held her, “Bloody hell.”  

Weaver knew everyone in Hyperion Heights. He had files on half of them. And he knew her. Lacey French.

“Miss French.”

She turned those laser blues eyes off the officers she was glowering at and onto him. Her glare instantly faded into a slow smirk. Pleasure radiated down his spine, or was it the whiskey finally kicking in?

“Detective,” she purred, looking at him from under heavy lashes and slinking into his office.  

He’d always known her to favor small blue clothes and today’s number was no exception. She must know they would bring out the blue in her eyes and throw men to their knees. They often did fall at her feet. Usually because she put them there using her wiles or her knee. Either way you felt it in your groin. Her auburn hair was piled high on her head, as usual. All the better not to hide the plunging neckline of her sleeveless blouse and the black lace bra that peeked out.

Didn’t she have a coat? It was winter for god’s sake. “Does Miss French have a coat?” he barked at the officers. 

She glanced back playfully at the cops who were still darkening his doorway, “We, ah, kind of left the bar in a hurry, didn’t we boys?” she winked at them. Weaver’s frown deepened, and they scurried away.     

“Is that so?” he glanced down at the file in front of him, flipping it open to the newest entry. He raised his eyebrows, and the whiskey landed in his stomach like lead, “Solicitation for prostitution?” He knew her rap sheet by heart. He’s kept her file on his desk a little too long and stared a little too hard at her mug shot. Shoplifting, disorderly conduct, illegal gambling. All repeat misdemeanors that Weaver personally kept from becoming felonies. But this was a new one. His eyes skipped up and down the paper, looking for the ‘John’ who was brought in with her. He’d find the man and kill him.

Lacey rolled her eyes, “He wishes.” She flounced into the chair opposite his desk, making herself at home. Realizing this was going to take a while, Weaver sat down. This is exactly what he didn’t want. Lacey French in his office. Her visits generally didn’t end with her leaving. They continued in his head, long after she’d sashayed out. “Keith owes me $200 from pool and didn’t want to pay. I went outside to talk to some people, he calls the cops on me for ‘prostitution,’ and I requested you.” She leaned forward conspiratorially, “Now how about you open that right bottom drawer. I know that’s where you keep the whiskey.” 

How she knew the contents of his desk drawers would be a conversation for another day.

Weaver perused the case file, “Well, Keith’s case is flimsy.” Just then one of the officers thrust his head back in the office, proffering Lacey’s coat.   

She popped out of her chair, “Oh, thank you, Charles!,” apparently she was on a first name basis with the squad. The move gave Weaver an uninhibited view of her black bra strap from the open back of her top. He remembered a blue sequined mini dress that was equally scarce in the back.

“Do you own a piece of clothing with a back?” he ground out. It came out harsher than he meant it, and out loud.

She spun on her heels, hand to her cheek, as if he’d slapped her. Was she angry? Offended? Then a mischievous smile spread across her lips and her pinky finger slid to her mouth. She was pleased. Like she was finally seeing the real him. He’d revealed himself. She’d been baiting him for years and finally he let his guard down and fell for it. She was delighted and now he was the one in trouble. She sauntered back over to his desk, caressing its edges.

“I like to feel it when my back is up against a wall.” She paused. Then looked straight into his eyes. “Literally or figuratively.”  

The air hung heavy between them. He needed to get her out of his office. Now. He had the gist of the charges. The rest he could sort out later. He cleared his throat and stood up, “C’mon, I’ll drive you home.”

“No,” she yelped, straightening. At his surprise, she recovered quickly, “I mean,” her spine relaxed again and her voice returned to its normal slow drawl, “I have something I gotta do. Besides, I don’t let guys walk me to the door unless they at least buy me a drink first,” she finished smoothly. He didn’t know if that last bit was a shutdown or a suggestion. While he preferred the latter, he felt safer with the former.  

He watched as she cinched a little black trench coat around her waist and traipsed off on her heels, out of his office and out of the station. 

His eyes narrowed. What was this errand she had to run? Was she headed back to the pool hall to exact revenge on Keith? He had to know. For the case. When he reached his car, she was a block ahead of him, so he coasted a distance behind her with his lights off. She couldn’t be going far, walking in the freezing rain. Unless somebody was picking her up that she didn’t want him to know about? She bypassed the brightly lit stores, heading towards the shadier part of town. She ducked into a sketchy bodega that he knew kept odd hours. What was she buying? Drugs? Had he been protecting a real criminal while he’d thought she was a petty thief? Roughly three minutes later, she emerged.

Ice cream. She’d bought ice cream. He could see it through the cheap plastic bags she carried, one in each hand. At least three quarts of it. Why would she buy all that ice cream? He didn’t need to be a detective to deduce that it wasn’t all for her. Obviously, she was going to share it but with who? A boyfriend? She didn’t have a husband. He knew that from the police database.

She adjusted on her heels before continuing down the sidewalk until she disappeared into a doorway. Weaver glanced up. There was a light already on in an upstairs apartment. Someone was waiting for her. The boyfriend, surely. Weaver lingered. One shadow appeared and crossed the room. Soon after another joined it behind the closed curtains. Maybe a roommate. Weaver gunned the engine. Maybe it was better not to know. He peeled off. Maybe ignorance was bliss.

###

[passportpoetry]

Culture Shock: Part 1

The Negative Nine

I have been gushing about my deeper experiences for a while, so I thought I would break it up with a short shallow list of culture shock moments.

From extensive “research” via Youtube videos and travel blogs, I felt aptly prepared for the very different culture of Japan. I knew that it was a largely paper based economy (cash and no cards), not to expect free wifi everywhere, that recycling is a serious process, to expect not to be able to alter my food, that they had very fancy toilets, and other various tidbits of differing customs and norms. However, there were some small things I did not expect…

1. Land of No Napkins, No Paper towels, and 1 Ply Toilet Paper

Most restaurants where I have eaten offer no napkins, or only offer tissues. I have found that there is an art (or witchcraft) to eating which most Japanese seem to innately know since birth because somehow they manage to eat without ever needing a napkin. I wish to learn the way of eating, but unfortunately I think I am beyond teaching.

Toilet paper here, even in my homestay house, is basically thinner than a tissue and should be precariously utilized when needed for any deep cleaning (the fancy toilets come in handy here). In addition to no napkins and see-through TP, it is not uncommon for me to go into a bathroom, exit to wash my hands, only to find no paper towels, or hand dryer.

It is my assumption that the lack of paper products is in the name of conservation and reducing waste and I am 100% on board with that. I am just a messy American who is used to be spoiled by the convenience of ample napkins and ultra soft, made from angel wings, toilet paper.

2. The Cold Which Permeates All

Japan, very unlike Charleston, has four distinct seasons, at least where I am located. This means, I have to deal with an actual winter, where the average high stays below 45°F for a good 3-4 months, and does not jump up 20°F everyday (as it does in Charleston). I expected this, in theory, but my poor southern body and mind did not.

Most houses in Japan do not have central heating, and mine is no exception. Japan is, in a professors’ words, about “warming the body not the room”. This is fine, except when you need to strip down in the unheated room before getting into the bath, or when none of the sinks offer you any option for you to wash your (already cold) hands in anything other than frigid water.

I am a wuss with bad circulation, okay? I appreciate warm spaces.

I basically exist only in this scarf and jacket in Japan.

3. Random Wind

Let us all acknowledge that the random wind which likes to blow through as though it is on a mission to tear through us is not okay.

Sometimes it is because you happen to be in a part of the city which creates a wind tunnel, or exiting the train station, but sometimes the wind picks up dramatically for no apparent reason. On top of the cold temperatures, the wind chill just cuts through you, and it is not uncommon for this to elicit a curse in response. Apparently, this is a persistent Northwesterly wind which blows over Japan in winter originating from Siberia.

I am not okay with this.

4. Fickle weather

The weather can not seem to be able to decide what it wants to do here. It will be a sunny and clear day but you will look outside and it will be pouring buckets of snow, only to stop 45 seconds later. If the snow does not seem to be stopping, however, just walk up a block, you will probably find that it is not snowing there.

5. Old Folks Will Have the Right of Way

It is not necessarily always older folks, but also middle aged men. Sometimes, you will have to finagle yourself in a strange way in order to let these people pass, because they Will. Not. Move. They will come barreling at you so you better watch out, because they are on a mission and will stop for no one! Unless it is a seat on a train or bus. I do not mind making room for people, but sometimes it gets comical how awkward I have to place myself in order to create space.

6. Peanut Butter Crisis

Okay, so this is a bit of a personal one. I love peanut butter. Almost anyone who knows me can attest to this. I need a poster of George Washington Carver for my wall. So it came to my greatest horror when I found that there was basically no peanut butter anywhere. I will admit. I caved. I bought the expensive tiny peanut butter jar that I found hiding in the corner of a larger supermarket. How could you not understand, Japan? Peanut butter is so perfect and wonderful.

7. Bikes: Where did they come from where did they go

Bikes are everywhere and you better be on your guard. I am never certain where I am supposed to walk on the sidewalks, but no matter where I walk I am always dodging cyclists. Most of them whizz from seemingly no where and then disappear around the corner before you can blink an eye.

8. Pricey Public Transport

I love the efficiency and availability of the public transport here, but gosh does it add up. I paid about 80$ for a discounted student commuter pass, but it only lasts me a month and only gets me to the station, where I have to walk 20 minutes to my school. This is why there are so many bicyclists, I am sure. On rainy weekday mornings they pack those buses to the point where people are basically smushed against the door. However, they are on time 98% of the time no matter what.

9. Frivolous Fruits

So I knew to expect this one, but the extent is unreal for me. Fruit is very very very expensive here. Which also means jelly is expensive (woe is me when I live in a land where PB&J breaks the bank). It definitely gets a little cheaper as the fruits become in season, but it is still far more than fruit in the U.S. For example, I saw a pack of 9 strawberries today which you could buy for about $7.80 (these might have been special strawberries, but I assure you I have not seen any packages any larger sell for less than $5.50 - $6.00. I definitely take fruit for granted in America, and I have been in withdrawal since coming here since I have not been able to feed my excessive fruit addiction.

They look delicious, right? They are. I had one with breakfast the other day.

All of this is said in relative jest so please do not take my whining seriously (excluding the peanut butter one, I am deadly serious about peanut butter). I will publish the second half of this later. I hope you enjoyed my ramblings!

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