#oh yeah this is the certain peace in myself i feel that makes me perform my best. i feel like myself again right now

[keijislove]

I’ll be there: Bucky Barnes X Reader

A/N: WARNING: Slight mention of PTSD, insecurity, basically Bucky not realising what a blessing to humanity he is.

Screams.

They erupted in an instant as the sound of glass shattering pierced the otherwise peaceful night. Screams were all he’d ever known. Screams sounded like music to his ears. It was just a small snippet of what people really deserved after they dared to show their faces in public, knowing the pain they had caused to this world.

Amidst the endless assassins, stood a certain soldier with eyes as dark as his name, hair long and unkempt about his face, and two arms – one regular, which clutched a gun that seemed to fire itself – and the other, made of vibranium, which was busy throttling a man.

The winter soldier.

That name commanded fear. Fear of being killed, knowing that the monster HYDRA had created didn’t have enough human in him to feel emotions like pity or regret.

Bloodlust.

That was all that James Buchanan Barnes had ever known.

“Please, please not my son!” a woman cried, watching tearfully as the winter soldier fought an urge to scoff.

Not caring in the least, he pointed the gun at a little boy of nearly seven years of age and smirked beneath his mask.

The trigger was pulled, deaf to the cries and bloodcurdling screams of the boy’s mother. A gunshot pierced through the hall filled with screams. A bullet shot towards the tiny, unsuspecting boy, reaching to hit him squarely in the head –

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Bucky screamed, sitting up straight.

He looked around. Nobody was there, he was alone. Like he’d always been.

Panting slightly, he looked around, fumbling for the water jug and he poured himself a glass before taking a sip – his hands shaking so badly that the quantity of spilt water was greater than that he drank.

“Just a nightmare,” he feverishly muttered to himself, “No – no big deal, nightmare.”

His lies sounded so untruthful, even Bucky had to scoff at himself.

Just a nightmare.

If he didn’t understand himself at times, who could?

It was almost foolish to admit it, but Bucky felt something he had no way to overcome. Lonely.

His ‘friends’ were leading important lives, either with family or training at the Avengers compound, wanting to make a difference. Yet, here he sat, feeling useless.

He wanted a purpose in life – a gaping hole in his chest nothing seemed to be able to fill. Apparently, the gods had heard his prayer, for that day was one he treasured most in all of his memories.

-----

“This is the last time I’m working the night shift!” you furiously exclaimed to Leah who just shrugged, saying, “It’s not me who decides the shifts.”

“Meh, well,” you admitted guiltily, “You have a point. But you’re the only I can rant to about this prison.”

“Well, job’s a job, isn’t it?” Leah murmured.

“I guess so.”

The door of the restaurant flew open as somebody walked inside. You didn’t bother to look up, you had way to much experience and hate for this job to care who wanted to eat what.

“Welcome, I am Y/N L/N, just name whatever you want, I’m sure we have it in here and if we don’t, I’m sorry but that’s not my fault and I have been working long hours since weeks and would appreciate a little customer cooperation to ensure the safety of my mental health, okay? What do you want?” you had never talked this way to a customer before – you were known to be a polite employee, but today, you just lost your temper with life.

Receiving silence from the figure that had stopped in front of you, you looked up questioningly and your mind went blank for a second. Standing there was literal eye candy material who looked confused and slightly alarmed. You flushed – great job scaring away a finally nice guy, Y/N.

“Sorry,” you sighed after a while of staring, “Not in the greatest mood these days.”

“I can see that,” the stranger chuckled despite himself, “Rough day?”

“Month,” you corrected moodily, “What can I get you?”

“Meh, the usual, some beer please,” he said.

“Right,” you nodded, turning around, pulling faces at yourself for being so embarrassing. You blindly groped for a bottle and thrust it his way, saying, “Glass?”

“No thanks,” he waved off, uncorking the bottle and downing it, “I’m Bucky, by the way. Bucky Barnes.”

“Hey, I’ve heard of you,” you frowned.

Bucky’s heart dropped into the floors below. Of course you had heard of him. Of the countless, ruthless murders he had performed.

“You’re – that guy, right? Steve Rogers’ best friend?” you asked, “My condolences,” you added quickly.

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, “That’s me.”

“I can see you’ve been through a rough life,” you remarked causally.

“You have no idea.”

And so, Bucky began visiting your bar regularly – a feat that made your shifts more enjoyable and something to look forward to in your mundane life. Bucky understood what a stressful job could be – he felt that if he couldn’t help himself, he’d at least try to help you.

After around a month of knowing him, you decided to do something you had been gathering the balls for for weeks

As soon as you finished your night shift, you spoke, “Can I walk home with you? It’s late – and the night sort of scares me. My house a few blocks away from yours.”

You crossed your fingers and toes behind your back.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Bucky said, “I wouldn’t want you to walk alone anyway.”

Your heart rose – this was a good sign.

You grabbed your coat and threw it on, shivering slightly as both of you made your way out. You locked the door behind you and placed the keys in your pocket as you resumed walking.

“So,” you began, “How’s life going on for you?”

“Crappy, mostly,” Bucky shrugged, “I mean – there’s nothing to do. I just sit around all day, come to your bar, go home, and sit around again.”

“Sounds like a nice life,” you sighed, “I wish I had some peace. I’d trade with you any day.”

This declaration made him laugh.

Now or never, Y/N, you wimp! Do it! Ask him out!

“Hey, listen, Bucky, I was wondering,” you began as he hummed in response, “Uh... we’ve known each other for some time now... don’t take this the wrong way, but I... really, really like you.”

Bucky felt his heart drop again – this was exactly what he’d been afraid of.

“Y/N...” he began.

“It’s okay, you might not feel the same,” you hurriedly said, swallowing back a few overcoming tears.

“No, Y/N, it’s nothing like that,” Bucky assured you, “I really like you too – but are you sure you’ve thought this through?”

“Thought what – what are you talking about?” you asked, nonplussed.

“I’m just saying – think about it,” Bucky began, “You – you’d be throwing away your future – I don’t want to do that to you. You’re a smart, beautiful woman, and you honestly deserve so much better! I can’t make you happy – I can’t make myself happy, I don’t know anything about commitment. I can’t give you children or a family – and the people who know of my past – almost everyone – will look down on you, I don’t want you to have that burden. I’m – a monster, Y/N, you can’t –”

“Stop,” you whispered, shaking your head, “Stop doing this to yourself. Who on Earth – Bucky, you are not a monster. I would never think like that – and it’s okay if you can’t give me a family – all I want is you. Just you.”

“Yeah, but you’re forgetting the most important part,” Bucky whispered, “I’m dangerous. I can’t trust my own mind. Trigger words, remember? Even if I’m not a killer anymore, I’ve made a lot of enemies – I don’t want anyone to use you to get to me.”

“What if I don’t care?” you asked angrily, “Let them try. And your trigger words – nice try, Bucky, you wanna be more careful what you tell others about your past. I know that that problem was taken care of years ago. You’re jut scared to open up.”

“I get nightmares....” Bucky’s voice trailed off in a feeble attempt to coax you to change your mind.

“And now you’ll have someone to calm you down next to you,” you firmly stated.

Bucky sighed, “Coffee shop down the street, tomorrow, noon.”

“Don’t you dare be late.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”

[eirikaanemo]

Heavy Is The Crown

Warnings: None

Venti x GN!Minstrel!Reader

3.1k Words

Venti's a servant boy at the palace that you fall in love with... right?

You’re the apprentice of the renowned Minstrel Chapman of the Riverside Performers Company. And recently your company was invited to go perform at the palace for the royal family of Mondstadt. It’s understandable really, they probably need some joy and relaxation in their lives considering the difficult war that is waging on. Of course, you’re one of the few to see it that way.

“People are dying on the battlefield every day, and the King and Queen want to make merry?” Archibald scoffed. “Peace, Archibald,” Grisela soothed. “This war is difficult for them as well.” Archibald scoffed again but chose not to respond further. These sorts of discussions were common now-a-days, and a gap of misunderstanding and hurt is starting to grow between the rulers and their people.

This really concerned you because you’d once known the son of a Baron and he had explained these sorts of difficulties to you. Your goal was to try and help bridge the gap. Since Master Chapman has charged you to write a song yourself for the royal performance, you have decided to write a song that could help with that. But the problem is that you have no idea what to write! And you’re running out of time.

When your company reaches the palace the next day, you are no closer to having written the song than you were before. Thankfully you all had arrived at the palace a couple days early, so you still had some time to come up with your song. However, you were feeling so nervous that you couldn’t even focus on trying to compose it at all.

So you decided to take a break and wander around the palace grounds, as you and your company had been invited to do when you arrived. As you did so, admiring the beautiful flowers and bushes of the garden, you ended up running into someone. Literally as in one moment you were standing up, and the next you were sitting on the ground clutching your head.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry,” someone apologized to you. “I should’ve been better about looking where I was going. Are you okay?” Peeking up, you see a servant boy with black hair in braids with teal tips and a flower tucked behind his ear. “Yes, I’m fine,” you assure him. “A little stunned, but I’ll be alright in a minute.”

“Are you sure?” He asks worriedly. When you nod he breathes a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear, Head Maid Maribel would have my head if I hurt a guest.” You smile and laugh a little. “Well we can’t have that,” you tease. “I’m sure you look much nicer when you have your head on your shoulders.” He stills for a moment from his fiddling from a moment before, a blush spreading from his cheeks to his ears.

Spluttering some, he manages to squeak out, “Oh, um, thanks?” You look at him oddly. “Don’t tell me no one’s ever teased you like that before,” you say. “I, um, won’t tell you then.” He jokes, calming down some. You smile some and give him a wink, “Well, I’m honored to be the first then.”

“Oh!” He exclaims. “I need to be pruning some bushes right now.” Your smile drops a bit, you’d been hoping to spend some more time with him. Noticing that, he adds on, “Would you like to come along? We could talk more while I prune.” You easily agree, “I’d like that very much, thank you.”

More confident now that he had something to focus on, he continued to make small talk with you. You introduce yourself and the two of you get to know each other better; he is ecstatic to know that you’re a minstrel and play the lyre. “I’m learning to play the lyre too!” He declares. “Maybe you could teach me a thing or two.” You smile at him, happy to know that you have that in common.

“I would like that! But,” you admit, “unfortunately, I’m afraid I don’t have the time right now. My master has told me to write a song and I’m struggling to get it out. With the war going on, I want to write a song to help bridge the gap between the royals and the commoners. From my experiences with the son of a Baron I knew, this war is just as hard for them as it is for us.”

He pauses from snipping away at the bush he’s working on. “You know, I’m glad you see it that way,” he tells you with an oddly grateful look in his eyes. “My p- Their majesties have really been struggling recently, especially with the loss of support from the people. For all the life of nobility looks wonderful, it comes at a cost. You lose freedom, always have to put others before yourself, can’t show any weakness, and bear the weight of every death on your shoulders.”

The odd phrasing and sudden correction go straight over your head as your muse suddenly rears its head. “I think I’ve got it now,” you blurt out. He blinks and tilts his head, confused. “Well I’m not sure what I did or said to help,” he replies, “but I’m glad I could help.”

You give him a big hug. “Really, you helped a lot,” you admit. “I need to go get started composing! But, uh, do you think I could see you again later?” He returns the hug. “Sure thing,” he murmurs in your ear. “I should be out here for the rest of today and all of tomorrow, but you’ll need to find me.”

“I think I can do that,” you murmur back and pull away from the hug. “See you tomorrow,” you call out to him as you start heading back to your Company. He watches you until you’re out of sight, before he goes back to pruning. “Well, that was fun,” he cheerfully tells himself. “I hope they do come back tomorrow. It’s not everyday I get to talk to someone like that.”

Composing the song was child’s play once you pick your lyre back up and get to work. The boy’s words repeat over and over in your head as you plan out lyrics and try different tunes. Master Chapman was thrilled when you played your song for him and assured you that the royals would love it. “It’s a wonderful tribute to all they do for us. And it helps us understand them and makes them more relatable to us,” he confirms. “I’m sure it will help you achieve your goal of helping bridge the gap between commoners and royals.”

When you find the boy the next day, you’re nearly vibrating in excitement. “Hey you,” you call. “Guess what?” His head turns to see you mid-snip and the branch lands on his head. You run over to make sure he’s okay. “Are you alright?” You ask him. “Yeah,” he responds sheepishly. “I guess this time it’s you who has to worry about getting me hurt.”

“Well that’s good,” you state, pouting at his teasing. “Oh! I realized yesterday that I don’t know your name!” He rubs the back of his head, embarrassed. “Ehe, sorry, I can’t believe I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Venti, it’s nice to officially meet you!”

“That’s a wonderful name,” you reply. “I like it a lot.” He smiles wide, “Thanks!” As the day continues you continue to talk with each other. Eventually he ropes you in to helping him with his chores. Thanks to that he gets done early and, after reporting back about finishing, he’s able to just spend the rest of the day with you.

After a certain point you’re able to admit to yourself that you’re falling for him. He’s cute, free-spirited, and makes you laugh. And maybe it’s just your imagination, but he seems to enjoy your time together too. The days left leading up to the performance are spent practicing and spending time with him. He’s tried to get you to play the song for him, but you insist that he wait for the performance to see.

The day of the performance comes very quickly, too quickly in your opinion. For all the compliments everyone who has heard your song gives you, and all the minds it has changed, you’re still incredibly nervous to perform it. What if they don’t like it? Will they find it presumptuous for you to write such a thing? When the time comes, will you mess up?

But the moment it’s your turn you take a deep breath, remind yourself that this is what you’re training for, and take your place on stage. Looking at the audience, you see the King and Queen, but, oddly enough, Prince Barbatos did not seem to be present. You strum your lyre and introduce yourself and your song. The audience seems intrigued that you would write such a song, so you take courage and start singing.

The stars are very beautiful, above the palace walls,

They shine with equal splendour, still above far humbler halls.

I watch them from my window, but their bright entrancing glow,

Reminds me of the freedom I gave up so long ago.

Although I am the head of state, in truth I am the least,

The true royal knows their people fed, before they sit to feast.

The good royal knows their people safe, before they takes their rest,

Thinks twice and thrice and yet again, before they make request.

These tears that burn my eyes are all the tears a royal can't shed,

The tears I weep in silence as I mourn my soldiers dead.

Oh gods that dwell beyond the stars, if you can hear my cry—

And if you have compassion—let me send no more to die!

(See: The Cost of the Crown by Mercedes Lackey, Debra F. Sanders)

As the last note fades the crowd stands with roaring applause. You feel a warmth spread across your cheeks as you bow deeply and return to your place standing with your company. Those standing around you congratulate you quietly as the next member steps up to perform.

Soon the performance is over and your Company is preparing to leave. Surprisingly many members of the Company had changed their minds about royals and the Company Head, Ferdinand, approached you to pass on the gratitude and appreciation from the King and Queen themselves. Venti showed up one last time, and Master Chapman allowed you to go speak with him as a treat for a job well done.

“That was amazing!” Venti shouts. “Did I really help you write that? I was hiding behind some curtains to listen and it was so amazing that I cried.” He grins so bright that you almost have to close your eyes. “I’m glad you liked it!” You say as you smile back. His happiness was contagious, and it didn’t help that you were completely smitten with him at this point. But alas, it was not meant to be.

Master Chapman called your name, letting you know that the Company would be leaving soon and that you’d have to come back within the next minute or two if you didn’t want to be left behind. Venti’s smile dims. “Are you sure you can’t stay?” He inquires. “Yes,” you sigh. “But who knows? Maybe I’ll see you again some day. But until then…” You trail off. He looks at you curiously, tilting his head again. Quickly, so as to not chicken out, you peck his check and run back to the Company.

“Until then!” You call out to him. The Company leaves as soon as you get there, so you’re not able to look back to see him. But if you could have, you would have seen him blushing as red as a rose, with a hand on his cheek where you kissed him. “Until then,” he whispers quietly. “I’ll make sure I’ll see you again.”

---

Years pass, and your apprenticeship ends. You make quite the name for yourself, and your song has worked wonders to heal the relationship between the people and their rules. Of course you write many more songs, but your first is always your favorite. Because he helped you write it. Many people have asked to court you, but you have turned them all down. Even after all these years, Venti the servant boy still holds your heart.

One day a messenger comes to speak with Ferdinand, bringing both good and bad news. Ferdinand calls the whole company together to share it. “Good friends, I’m sad to say that the King has passed away.” He announces, and the Company breaks into whispers and conversation. You think you may have even seen Gwenivere crying. “However, we have been invited to perform at Prince Barbatos’ coronation!”

This was wonderful news! Perhaps you could take this chance to see Venti again! You’d missed him dearly. But the more you thought about it, the more worried you became. Maybe he’d moved on and married someone else already. Would he still remember you? Will he want anything to do with you now? What if you didn’t like you and is upset about the kiss you gave him before you left?

You shake those thoughts out of your head and take a deep breath to calm yourself. Then you feel a hand clamp down on your shoulder and you must’ve jumped several feet in the air in your surprise because the person behind you burst into laughter. Embarrassed, you turn around to see Ferdinand, now laughing so hard that he was having trouble standing up.

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumble at him, good naturedly. “I’m sure startling me was very funny.” Finally calming down, Ferdinand gave you a great big smile. “It most certainly was,” he assured you. “But I didn’t come to you with the intention to startle you.” You raise an eyebrow as you continues. “I wanted to let you know that you were actually mentioned by name, so you may want to prepare something special.

Your jaw dropped. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for someone to be specifically named, but this was from the Prince himself! Still stunned, you nodded. “I’ll write the best song I can,” you promised him. “I’m sure you will,” he replied confidently. He didn’t stay long after that, just letting you know the basics of when the Company would be leaving and how soon the coronation would be.

As you travel you do your best to compose a song. However, you soon find yourself stuck. Your muse is gone again, just like it was the last time you went to the palace. Oh well, perhaps Venti could help you again. It would be wonderful to spend more time with him anyway, so you don’t worry too much about it.

The Company reaches the palace after a week of travel. You look for Venti in the gardens all day, but can’t find him anywhere. ‘Perhaps he got moved to working in the castle?’ You wonder to yourself. But either way, that meant he wouldn’t be able to help you write your song. So you sat down that night and did your best to compose.

It wasn’t really working, but you did your best. The next morning was chaotic, as the Company had been informed that the Prince himself would be coming out to welcome you all. You hurriedly joined in making the company camp look presentable and changed into your best clothing before going out to stand with everyone else.

The Prince was announced before the palace doors opened to reveal… Venti. Your eyes went wide and your jaw must have dropped to the ground. Those who were in the company before very carefully didn’t turn to look at you, though the newbies couldn’t help but look at you, confused. You quickly composed yourself as he scanned the crowd, though the smiles of some of his guards told you that your reaction did not go unnoticed.

It was very much him. The same dark hair with teal tipped braids. His eyes brightened as they met yours. He strode forward and the crowd parted before him. You were about to move as well until he stopped before you, fell to one knee, took one of your hands, and gently kissed it. Your face warmed again in a way that it hadn’t since you last saw him.

His eyes sparkled with mirth as he saw the look on your face. “Hello again,” he said gently. “Hi,” you squeaked. “It’s, uh, it’s good to see you again?” He laughed, “It’s good to see you again too. I know I kept my status a secret before, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth then, but could I ask you a question?”

“O-of course,” you respond. He smiles charmingly. “Will you marry me?” That’s it. You must’ve died and gone to heaven. Or maybe someone had put something in your breakfast. Or maybe he had the wrong person. You looked side to side to see if there was anyone else he could be talking to before you point to yourself. “M-me?” You ask, hesitantly. “You,” he says confidently. “I fell in love with you all those years ago, and I could never imagine myself with someone else.

“Though I would understand if you’re with someone else. It’s been so long and you’re so wonderful that you must have received many invitations to courtship.” A shy smile spreads across your face. “I have received many offers,” you admit, and his face falls a bit. “But I’ve turned them all down. My heart was taken years ago by my dear Venti the servant boy.”

You get down on your knees and kiss the hand that is holding yours. “I would love to marry you, if you’ll have me.” He smiles brighter than the sun. “Nothing would make me happier,” he declares, and he pulls you in for a kiss. You pull away for air and nuzzle your nose against his. “I do have one request though,” you continue. “Anything, my love,” he swears. “Court me properly first, please,” you request.

“I can do that,” he laughs as he pulls you in for a hug. “How about we start with having lunch together,” he whispers in your ear. “That sounds like a great plan,” you agree. He gives you another quick kiss before standing up, pulling you to your feet, and leading you back to the palace.

You ignore the whistles and applause of your Company as you follow him, grateful for their support but wanting to give your suitor all your attention. This was the first day of the rest of your life, and you wanted to appreciate every minute of it. And every minute was just as wonderful as you’d ever imagined.

As queen, you were able to bring the kingdom together and closer than ever before. The people loved their rulers because they knew their rulers dedicated themselves to them. And the rulers responded in kind. The war ended, peace prevailed, and you got your perfect happily ever after.

[weuschoiceheart]

🔑Keiys To Your Heart - Romeo and Juliet

~Inspired by @bluejayjay and @choi-seonset​ conversation about Seon acting out Romeo and Juliet....

Taglist:  @baekhyuns-star @choi-seonset @raftel-is-waiting @mysticpenguincreation @lifeisamuffin @bluejayjay @soft-black-teabag  (dm me to be tagged!)

Genre: fluff, mostly CrAcK, pining, Pining, PINING, theater!au, Seon playing matchmaker with Jaeho as his sidekick, K x female!reader

Warning: cursing,  prepare yourself for cringe

Summary: In which Seon is sick of seeing K and Y/n pine for each other, so when the school play started up, he forced the K to audition, hoping he’ll get the main role while Y/N (typical theater student) gets Juliet. To his shock, however, another student snatches Juliet’s role and Seon is forced to rethink his plan.

Part 1/? : Next —>

————— ————— ————— ————— ————— —————

“Seon.”

“K.”

“Seon.”

“Seoff.”

K threw his hands up in exasperation. “No!”

Seon crossed his arms, lips pursed in a thin line. “Oh, come on. You know it’s a good idea! I’m so tired of you being whipped for her, and not even doing anything about it!”

“I’m not whipped-”

Seon rolled his eyes, “sure, and Moona isn’t whipped for Jay.”

K frowned. “Doesn’t she like Heeseung?”

Seon waved his hand carelessly, “same thing, same thing.” Before K can open his mouth to say that they are, in fact, not the same thing, Seon pressed on. “Look, this can be your chance to show something, give her some signs, get closer. And if she doesn’t like you back, which is impossible because I’m sure she does, then it won’t matter ‘cause you’re just playing your role as adoring Romeo. AND-” Seon glared at K, who was about to interrupt, -”it’ll look good on your college application!”

“For your information, I’m already certain that I’m getting into college through an athletic scholarship,” K said. “So right now, I just need to focus on track, not some fancy theater play that I never even tried out for.”

“Well, it will make you even more appealing because it shows that you’re versatile and willing to try out new things!” Upon seeing K’s still unconvinced face, Seon decided to cut the dramatics (ugh, bad pun). “I’m only saying that you should try, you know? If you don’t make it past the audition, fine, whatever. I’m only trying to help you out.”

“Thanks, but I think I can handle my love life myself.” K turned back to the stack of books in front of him, burying himself back to studying for his calculus exam. Curse his math teacher for giving him a test on such a short notice, even though it’s only been a few weeks since everyone had come back to school.

“With how you’re handling it right now, it would be graduation and you still wouldn’t have confessed,” Seon mumbled to himself. He stuffed his essay papers in his bag and stood up. “I gotta go, Jaeho’s waiting for me outside. See you later.”

“Mhm.” Seon sighed at K’s incoherent muttering, before making his way out of the library. Well, if you don’t decide to speak up, then I’ll have to play matchmaker here and you’ll thank me later for keeping your nonexistent love life from dying. 

K stretched his arms above his head and yawned, before ducking his head sheepishly as the librarian glared at him, probably done with his and Seon’s constant bickering. Ah well, at least now he could finish studying in peace without someone pestering him to grow some balls and ask his crush out. None of that, no distractions—

His phone vibrated and lit up with a message, making his eyes widen at who it was from.

Y/Nie ❤❤: Hey K! I hope you didn’t forget about our meeting for the group project :)

K gasped. Oh shit-

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

K opened the door to the cafe, panting slightly. He had ran here as fast as he could (thank god he’s on the track team) and upon seeing you pressing your face to the window with a worried expression, he mentally chided himself. How can you be so stupid? You’re supposed to meet her twenty minutes ago - wow, she looks so beautiful - and now you kept her waiting - her pout is so cute-

Shaking his head, he realized that he have been standing at the entrance of the cafe, staring at you for who knows how long, and now some of the customers were giving him weird glances. Making his way over, he sat down in front of you and tapped your shoulder.

You jumped slightly in surprise, your face relaxing into a bright smile upon seeing him. “You’re finally here!”

“I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—for keeping you waiting—” Lovely, now he can’t even form proper sentences in front of you. Y/N! Stop smiling at me like that! It’s frying my brain!

Thankfully, you just let out a short laugh, finding his stuttering cute. “It’s fine, we all forget sometimes. Should we start working now?”

Nodding, K took out his laptop, grateful for a distraction so he doesn’t make a fool of himself again. The two of you started to work in relative silence, comparing notes every now and then. After half an hour, you called for a break. 

“How have you been doing these days?” you swirled the straw around the cup of your Frappuccino. K had offered for pay for it, though you adamantly refused. K sipped his own ice tea, pondering on the question.

“Stressed over exams, because apparently my teachers decided that they should all give tests right as the school year started,” K rolled his eyes, making you laugh. God, he loves your laugh. “Besides that, training for track because we have another competition coming up in a month, trying to get all these assessments done, dance team...yeah it’s a lot,” K ruffled his hair in frustration. You made a noise in agreement.

“Yeah, I have a research paper I still need to finish, as well as stupid lab reports about bacteria,” you wrinkled your nose. “Not to mention, I need to practice for the upcoming play.” You sighed. “I don’t know why they decide to pick Romeo and Juliet out of all the shows we can do, I bet my English teacher bribed Ms. Lee so she can ramble on about the importance of Shakespeare’s plays again.”

“Oh right...you’re auditioning for Juliet’s role, right?” K suddenly flashed back to his conversation with Seon. 

You nodded. “I probably won’t get it though, I’m not that good at portraying medieval characters. Besides, the only time I got the lead was when we couldn’t find enough people to play Sleeping Beauty last year.”

“I remembered that,” K still recalled how jealous he was seeing you kiss another boy, even though it was just acting. Seon had practically dragged him over to the stage after the performance ended, berating him to confess, but K had wimped out. “I’m sure you’ll get the part though, you’ll make the perfect Juliet.”

“You think so?” you could feel your face heating up, and looked down, flustered. K realized what he just said, and blushed, fumbling around with his fingers. “Thanks, but...I’m not that good, really. Me getting the role of Juliet is as likely as you dropping out of track or auditioning for the play.”

“I’m going to audition though.”

“Huh?” you looked at him confused. K stared back, as his words started to register in his mind.

Oh crap, why did I just say that—oh my gosh, how can you be so stupid— “Oh, I didn’t mean to—”

“Wait, really?” You smiled, your expression a mixture of surprise and excitement. “I didn’t know you were into theater....I mean, I don’t think you’re going to be bad or anything, um—” Y/N, get your act together, this is your crush for fuck’s sake. “I think you’ll make a great Romeo!” You winked at him, before internally cringing at yourself.

The wink almost gave K a cardiac arrest. I am so gonna regret this. But he couldn’t say no to you, especially when you’re smiling at him so radiantly like this. So he forced a smile, already imagining Seon laughing at him. “Yeah, I hope I get the part!”

[kiyokoxd]

Come See The Stars (Dark Era)

Note - This story is from my Wattpad, you might not understand a few parts but if you want to, go check out my Wattpad - quaraplayz (this is a bonus chapter from there :))

Slight mention of Self Harm in the first para.

You were going to sleep, just as your dad told you. It was late, exactly 1 am right now. You were busy putting medicine and wrapping bandages around your wrist due to the hard training and your cuts. You wrapped yourself against the warm blanket, yet you couldn't sleep. You heard a loud bang coming from your window.

You sighed as you got up, what was that?

You quickly pulled your curtains aside as you saw Dazai, you flinched as you heard him loudly shouting.

"Hey Y/N!"

Slightly conscious, you signalled him to shut up as your index finger came to your mouth, making a "shhh" sound. He nodded happily, you put your 5 fingers up to show him that you needed 5 minutes.

He gave you a thumbs up. You closed your window and the curtains, a weird gut feeling coming in your stomach, what was he doing here at 1 in the morning? Shouldn't he sleep? Of course, Mori told you both to be friends but– You shook your head and sighed, "It's probably something important.."

You wore a jacket and sneaked out of your house, not wanting to ditch him. How did he know where you lived again–?

You came down the stairs in a hurry as he waved at you.

"Wh-What is it you dumbass?" You shivered at the sudden wind rushing by.

"Do you wanna come to see the stars with me?" He asked softly, his voice contained excitement but he didn't want to let that out.

"Huh..? At this time?", your cheeks having a soft evident blush.

"Mhm!" He nodded aggressively.

"Okay..?"

[ you can play the song ]

He dragged you along as you just followed him, not having a single idea about how his mind worked. He would act serious, intimidating, charming and smart, but only to act dumb, adorable, childish and cheerful. It was like he almost had a twin, both having different personalities. Somehow, it made you want to learn more about him.

He got you on top of a small cliff where there were no sounds, just comfortable silence surrounding you both. It was peaceful, something you barely ever felt or saw.

You took a deep breath in, you let it out only to flinch at the sudden warmth you felt behind. He was hugging you.

"D-Dazai?" You asked, still not used to these random acts of affection or kindness. This reminded you of someone and you weren't sure if you liked it or not.

"Sorry- You okay with it? I was just trying to scare you~"

"Well that successfully failed"

"Yep.." He yawned softly which caused you to have a slight grin on your face. A sudden light feeling in your chest.

"Dazai..."

"Hm?" He leaned into you more, you could feel his breath against your ears.

"Step away for a second.."

"Oh sure-"

He stepped back as you looked confused, you weren't sure what you were feeling.

"I feel light?"

He gave you a weird look while you shook your head, you can't open up to people you barely know, what if they tell your dad?

"Nothing."

He nodded understandably, smiling at you to show slight comfort in that you could trust him, the light flutter of your heart leads you to try and copy his smile.

You both sooner or later decided to lie down, you both looked at the stars. They were beautiful, small yet bright. It reminded me of the people laughing, the kids playing and shouting, you weren't sure why did they do that, was there a certain reason? It was impossible for you to remember how it felt to feel what others felt.

You somehow felt relatable to Dazai, he seemed happy, yet, it never seemed real. You were good at reading people and you weren't sure why he acted the way he acted.

"Dazai, are you sad?" You asked straight-forwardly, not thinking there would be any harm.

He flinched at this sudden random question, "I.. Well, I don't know."

It was somewhat the truth. He wasn't sure how he felt, no matter how heavy and empty he felt, no matter how pressured or pain he was in, he could never cry. Crying meant sadness, right?

"You know if Mori didn't call me, I would be most probably dead by now," You said jokingly even though your stoic voice didn't help and made it less comforting.

He looked at you as if he saw himself in you, "Well, how so?"

"I was trying to kill myself?" You recalled and he nodded his head.

"Ah well.. Same"

A small moment of silence as Dazai spoke up again, "Do you know what are constellations?"

"What?"

"Basically a group of stars that appears to form a pattern or picture"

"I see.." You weren't sure what to say to that, it seemed pretty cool.

"You know, like shapes in the cloud? Have you ever tried forming them?" He asked, trying to continue the conversation.

"I used to, I barely get time to focus on myself now" Your lips parted as you looked above again, you tried making a picture or any shape that came up in your mind. He gave you a curious look while looking above again.

"A heart!" You both exclaimed together, meaning that you both saw the same thing, you looked at each other as he starts laughing and your lips curve into a small smile.

"Well that was a weird coincidence"

"Yeah" You speak, you never had this much fun in years. It didn't seem much but it was for you.

"It's called a Capricornus"

You look at him, "You like stars?"

He looks at you back which causes your eyes to meet, somehow they were full of life. It was almost like two empty beings making each other whole.

"I like looking at them, they give me.. Inner peace I guess?" He blurts out. You nod your head as in to tell him you were listening while he smiles.

"It's 2am dumbo" You inform him. Time sure passes quickly.

"You feeling sleepy?" He asks.

"No, but my dad's gonna kill me," You tell him.

While you try to return and talking about other things you can talk, anything not Port Mafia related.

This was something you both needed.

"Ah well.. Bye! Good night!" He says energetically. You nod and hug him which surprises him, yet he takes this as an opportunity to tease you, "Aw does someone care about me~?"

"No, but I like you."

"...."

"I uh, never had a friend in years so.."

"Oh! I am glad then" He smiles.

"We're friends right?"

"Of course," He brings his hand in order to shake which you obliged, the warmth of his made you want to hold on to it later like it was the only thing that might give you comfort.

"Goodnight.." You leave him as he goes away, running to your room. You get inside your bed, oh your performance would be bad tomorrow, but this was worth it. You smile and blush remembering his face, it was like he was the sun while you were the moon. But, the sun gets tired too, the moon helps. That was your relationship.

You didn't panic or anything, but soon slept.

You found another importance in life, it was the stars. Reminding you of someone special and making you feel like you weren't alone. You felt peace in the violence, the stars moving, many people looking at it like they were the only ones, yet it connected so many people. The moon symbolising all their emotions together. You could look at it and you will see your loved ones waving from above, Asami especially.

Maybe Dazai and you could look at each other once in a while?

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

What do you think of JM’s updated Spotify? I don’t normally read into things, but his song choices makes me sad. “At my worst” “I can’t be myself (excuse me while I cry) & “When was it over?” With the lyrics “was it that fight we didn’t have when I came in? Was it the first time you saw me drunk? Second time I said I’m sorry?” It sounds like a replay of Vmins dumpling incident and it worries me. JM looked off in the recent live, almost sad and pouty lately. Do you think I’m over analyzing it?

Admin 1: The short answer to this would be: yes, you are over analyzing things.

The longer one would be that, for example, Pink Sweat$'s At My Worst isn't a sad song, it's actually the exact opposite. It's a very cute and romantic song. Just look at the first verse:

Can I call you baby? Can you be my friend? Can you be my lover up until the very end? Let me show you love, oh, no pretend Stick by my side even when the world is caving in, yeah

I'd actually argue this kinda sounds like a mixture between Sweet Night and Friends when it comes to the sentiment of those words. I’ve seen some people even claim that this will replace Ed Sheeran’s romantic songs that have so far been used at every wedding ever because of how sweet it is.

Then we have Justin Bieber’s I can’t be myself which I believe you probably only looked at the title and jumped to conclusions because, again, this isn’t a sad song either. The lyrics are more about how Justin (or whoever) cannot be himself when you (I’d guess he likely means his wife) isn’t by his side, thus wanting to say that he is happiest and most himself when they are together. It’s sweet and lovely, not sad.

I could travel any place But without you, it's just runnin' around (Girl, I'm just runnin' around) They could open Heaven's gates But without you, I'm just stuck in the clouds (Yeah, yeah)

Lastly, from the songs you specifically highlighted, is Sasha Sloan’s when was it over? which yes, I’ll admit this one is a sad song about not being able to let go even though you know there is nothing left. The song though has a very calm sound, something you’d listen to in the evening, and something I could see both him and Tae like listening to, not because Jimin relates to the lyrics but because it’s simply a pretty song.

On my current playlist I have Stromae’s Formidable, a song about a heartbroken man getting wasted after a breakup. I’ve neither gotten my heart broken nor am I sad and yet I still love this song because it’s just a really good song. Sometimes that’s the only reason we need to listen to a song. Nothing more to it.

All that to say that I don’t believe there is any correlation whatsoever to be made here, especially since Tae and Jimin look more than happy in recent months (did you notice Jimin happily smiling at Tae during their most recent performance of Butter for Colbert at the beginning of their subunit dance?) and there is nothing that could indicate to us that something went wrong between them, or that Jimin could be sad or something bad going on with him. I mean, look at JKs playlist and the fact that he has Billie Eilish’s Your Power on it, applying your thought process, does that mean that JK is trying to tell us he went through something similar to Billie? That he is sad? Or do you think he simply recommended that song because he likes Billie’s music? The last one seems the most likely, doesn’t it?

So, to sum it all up, there is absolutely no need to worry, seriously.

Admin 2: In the evenings, when it's very quiet and my big city has fallen asleep, I really enjoy listening to Sweet Night. I also like to go back to 4 O'Clock from time to time (although I know I will cry). Does that mean I missed my chance in life to be with my beloved? No and no again! I've never been in a situation like this, I wasn't unhappy or "fragily" in love, no one abandoned me or cheated on me. I listen to these songs because I love them. They match the mood of the evening and calm me down despite the sad lyrics and let me fall asleep peacefully.

I am a person who listens to a lot of songs from the past; Songs that remind me of situations, remind me of years of studying, enable me to relive certain situations.

Dear Anon, thank you very much for your question (confession), but I admit that I see it as "looking for some kind of backdoor" so to speak, a way to create a loophole and deny everything after all.

I don't know who you are, I don't know if you really are a Vminnie, but I think you are clinging to any possibility of a situation to undermine the reality or existence of Vmin. That's how I see it, if I offend you, I apologize. The more we get new materials about Tae and Jimin every day, like them being cute in the McDonald's behind the scenes, the more such "sad thoughts" we get sent to us through asks every day.

Firstly, I'm not sure if Jimin (and Taehyung) is fluent enough in English to capture the accuracy of the lyrics and understand its message. Of course, you can translate it, but for that to happen first the song has to catch your attention, and usually it's the melody and the overall feeling of a song that does it, and not the lyrics. And that is the point!

I think Jimin picked these tracks because he simply likes them. Perhaps he first paid attention to the melodies and the mood and only then understood the lyrics sometime later.

A lot of people (including me) hear some kind of song instead of another because they are intrigued by the melody or the association with a particular situation. The mood that fits the moment, the weather, the time of day or many other things which lead us to choose this song and not another.

Maybe Jimin and Taehyung were driving at night and listening to the song on the radio, maybe they were in a romantic mood back then, just having dinner together or taking a half bath together. Ha ha, I know I am deceiving and romanticizing what I am saying to reflect the vast possibilities and reasons why you listen to music like this and no other. Jimin putting together this list of songs for his spotify playlist doesn't mean he listens to it all the time, every day, but that he has the songs he likes on his list and chose the ones he wants to hear right now, or that he thought ARMY could like.

Of course, I'm sure he listens to very different songs during exercising than the one lying in bed before falling asleep. Maybe he's listening to this list, just like we hear the songs from BTS? We know individual words after repeating them several times, and we generally know (as we decide to read translations) what is going on in a particular song, but we don't understand all the words accurately. Not all of us are in the same situation as described in a particular song, but still we listen to it because we like it, because BTS sings it, because we are waiting for a solo from Suga etc. etc. etc.

For some time now we have been seeing (I see) Vmin happy, even very happy, as if "after the night the day came and after the storm came peace" (by the way, these are the words of one of my favorite songs), I have the impression that Vmin have finished fighting all their fights and they are just happy now, finally. Taehyung looks like a million dollars, he's literally glowing and far more lively than he was a year ago.

To him, Jimin is like smooch like butter and someone he likes the most. Taehyung is a handsome and hot chingu for Jimin who he also likes him the most as well. Tell me dear Anon, where is there room for fear and doubt in the love they share? Why and on what basis do you suspect that Vmin has broken up, or is having problems, or that either of them is unhappy? Besides, if one of them has an off day or is simply tired after a packet schedule and thus doesn't look as animated, why is that immediately read as "Jimin and Tae aren't together anymore" or "they are drifting apart" when chances are far more likely that it has nothing to do with their bond? Based on the playlist, or based on Vlive, or maybe based on both of these events, what is the correlation?

I've seen the Vlive. To tell the truth, I didn't see a sad and pouty Jimin there. Instead, I saw Taehyung smiling and content, and Jimin smiled and admired Tae's new hairstyle. I watched the latest BTS interviews. Vmin stared at each other, Jimin stared at Tae with a big smile that only grew in size and the two communicated with their eyes.

Jimin caressed Taehyung's back/butt in the Butter MV making Episode and said there’s butter here (though it wasn’t translated in the subs).

In the McD ad they were together and standing next to each other, even with Jimin resting his head on Tae's shoulder and then Jimin eating Tae's chicken nugget from his hand.

Honestly, I don't know what else Vmin would have to do to keep people from doubting their bond and happiness. They have shown us so much, I think they have reached the limit of what can be said without saying it bluntly.

Most importantly, this is a very interesting situation as we have never had as much "dubious news/content" (not meant negatively at all) as we have now after Taehyung's interview with his ‘confession’/clarification about Sweet Night. To me it smells a bit like someone wants to cause fear or plant the seed of doubt, or be like a trojan horse with the underlying idea of course being that "well...we must be wrong" even though there’s no reason for us to believe/think that.

[woozisguitar]

|Dream Boy|- Charlie Gillespie x Reader

|Pairing|- Charlie Gillespie x reader 

|Warning|- none (I think so. let me know if I should add any)

|Word Count|- 1142

|Summary|- Charlie and Reader have been best friends for all their lives. A certain dinner with new cast mates leads to a confession between the two best friends

|a/n|- Hi! Thank you so much for reading this. This is my first ever fanfic post here! It’s based off ‘18′ by One direction. To be fair, its kinda cringey. Anyway I hope y’all like it! 

You and Charlie had known each other for your whole lives. You went to school together, attended every hockey match and accompanied him to every audition. Your feelings for him were platonic until your 18th birthday. Your parents were always travelling due to work. Which leaves you alone on almost every birthday of yours. Your 18th wasn't any different, or as you thought so. That year, Charlie had thrown a surprise party for you, inviting all your friends. The moment your eyes met his on the dance floor, you knew you were in love with him. But unreciprotion and rejection scared you enough to keep them to yourself. Today, 2 years  since, you accompanied Charlie to his audition for a Netflix show called Julie And The Phantoms. “Charles did you really have to cut off your sleeves? What did they ever do to you?” “Oh come on y/n. These make me look cool. I am really looking forward to this role” “okay rockstar.”, you teased him,” Just remember whatever happened in there, I'll always be proud of you”. Charlie smiled and hugged you as he went in for the audition. You decided to spend a few hours at a nearby mall as a good way to pass the time. After 2 hours, you got a text from Charlie asking you to come back to the audition centre. As you reached there, a loud voice called out you name and you were swept off you feet. “Whoa Char, let me down dummy!”, you laughed t this over enthusiastic self. “I got the role y/n! I cant believe this”,Charlie screamed, his face adorning a huge smile. “Oh my god that's amazing Char  I’m so proud baby!!”, you hugged him tight, not realising the small slip up.

“You should join me and my bandmates for dinner. We are going to this cool pizzeria down the block. And of course I want them to meet one of the most important people in my life”, Charlie said walking beside you towards his car. He tossed you his car keys and got in the front seat. You shook your head but either way got into the driver's seat. “Why am i driving again?”, you asked him as you put the keys into ignition. “Because you're awesome and I need to change”, he said, feigning an innocent look. “Sure bub sure”, you rolled his eyes and started to drive towards the pizzeria.

The two of you reached the pizzeria and Charlie looked around to find his other bandmates. A tall blonde guy waved at us and Charlie pulled me towards the table. “Hey guys, this is y/n. y/n my bandmates. Thats Owen, Jeremy, Madison and Jeremy’s girlfriend Carolynn”

“Hey guys’, you said shyly, “it's really nice to meet y'all”

You and Charlie sat down on the table opposite Madison and Carolynn. “So y/n do you sing too?”, Madison asked you, placing her chin on her palm. “Yeah a bit. I don't usually perform. We have Charlie for that,” you eyes flickered to Charlie who smiled at you, '' I prefer to do theatre''. `` That sounds fun ,maybe someday we could stop by and watch you?”

“Well, be my guest. Just tell Charlie and I'll fix yall the best seats”, you grinned.

“Okay, now, how long have you and Charlie been together for?”, Carolynn asked, wrapping her hands around Jeremy’s arm.  Charlie choked on the ice tea he was drinking and your eyes widen at the question. “I- um- we- uhh”, you stammered trying to form an answer. “We are not dating. I mean I've known y/n for all my life but we arent dating?”Charlie said, almost as if questioning that himself. “Oh I’m sorry. I just thought that the two of you were dating because how comfortable yall were. Nevertheless, the two of you would make a cute couple”, Carolynn grinned and Madison nodded in agreement. You blushed and lowered your eyes to avoid eye contact from everyone. The rest of the dinner passed in a blur.

You and Charlie walked back to his car in silence. Why didn't we ever date?, you thought to yourself when you noticed Charlie pass by your house and go in the other direction. “Uhh Charlie that was my stop.” “I know”, he glanced at you and took the turn leading to the forest. You realized Charlie was driving to your Secret Spot. It was a clear opening that had a lake at one end of it. You and Charlie had stumbled upon it during one of your hikes. As most people didn't know about it, it was always peaceful. Charlie cut off the engine and turned to you saying “look I know you're wondering what we're doing here but I think we should talk”

“Sure, go ahead”, you said, your eyebrows scrunching in confusion. “Not here, by the lake. Lets go”, Charlie got out of the car and you followed in suit. The two of you sat on a log near the lake, both staring at the sky full of stars. “I love you”, Charlie said after a few minutes of silence. You turned to him so fast you were surprised you didn’t get a whiplash. “What?”, you questioned softly trying to calm the erratic beating of your heart. “I've loved you since we were 18. I know it sounds crazy but I do. You were always there for me, y/n. You were there at my happiest times and my lowest times. I always knew you were the one for me but I could never build up the courage to do something about it. But today when Carolynn said that I realised I want that with you. Why didn't we ever date? Look at us! We’re perfect for each other”, Charlie choked out with tears in his eyes and his hands desperately clutching yours. You stood there paralyzed, not knowing what to say. Hurt clouded in his eyes when he realised you didn't respond “I..I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that,”Charlie started to pull away from you when you said “I love you idiot.”, you gave him a watery smile and continued “I've loved you ever since I danced with you on my 18th birthday. I was so scared because you're you, Charlie and I'm me. And I was just so scared that I'll never be good enough for you-”, your words were cut short with Charlie's lips being pressed to yours. His hands rested on either side of your waist and you curled yours around his shoulders. The two of you pulled back, both out of air. “Sorry I couldn't stop myself. Y/N I’ll always love you no matter what. You're my dream girl baby”. “And you're my rockstar dummy”, You smiled and kissed him,knowing your love would be fine no matter what.

Taglist: (none)

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 134

Since I am queueing this chapter the same that I queued the last one, I just want to say:

If you have found my story in the last week, and liked it, thank you. It makes me smile when that happens.

If you shared my story with others, and they liked it, or even found a little bit of themselves in it, I’m very glad. Thank you for sharing something with your friends that they enjoyed.

As always, thank you to @the-raven-fae, @anotherusrname, @baelpenrose, and @charlylimph-blog for being my ports in all storms and the family everyone deserves to have.

Annnd the podcast. Don’t miss the podcast!  I don’t profit from it in any way, shape, or form, but the idea of a version of this story that is more accessible for people who would struggle to read it is something that should always be supported! 

A week later, I was wincing and out of breath when I reached my office for the day.  Tyche had enthusiastically agreed with Arthur’s suggestion, and after some tests from Maverick showed that I could apparently kick hard enough to break a grown man’s pelvis - although not without also breaking my foot - I had been expected to be in the gym for nearly two hours every day.  My legs hurt and my feet looked worse than the time I tried to learn ballet en pointe.  As if that wasn’t bad enough, I was also apparently very slow in reacting with my legs as a result of years learning to fight with, you know, my hands. Like a normal person.  This meant I was also wearing five pound weights on each ankle, all day, including when sparring.

So far, the only thing I had noticed was a demonstrably shorter patience and a reduction in how much I bounced my legs. Or sat comfortably.

I was so absorbed in my bad mood and how badly my legs hurt that I had already gotten coffee, greeted my mentees, and sat at my desk before I noticed something out of place.  As usual, Parvati and Hannah were across from each other at the table they typically sat at, but Parvati was standing and demonstrating something.

While using the table emitter, which they only ever used for my benefit.

Tilting my head in what probably looked like what Sparkle’s expression when she was denied a treat, I watched as Parvati picked up a vaguely pen-shaped object - it really looked more like a sonic screwdriver than a writing implement - and started making neon pink lines of various widths, swirls to test the slant it would make, and using it at various speeds before closely considering the color of each line.

“What in the world is that?”

“Paint testers,” Hannah explained. “Charly dropped them off with Vati last night, along with the programming to simulate how they work so we could test them with an emitter and not a wall.”

“Paint?”

“For the Festival. Charly designed these for us to use instead of trying to get permission to use actual spray paint.  The fumes of spray paint are apparently very caustic to Noah.”

I shuddered. “Yeah, no spray paint, clearly.”

Apparently satisfied with the pink, Parvati keyed her datapad to clear the emitter and picked up a different pen.  This one was a beautiful lapis blue. “She’s quite brilliant,” she murmured as she tested the pen. “The pens work like an airbrush, but she took some inspiration from something Arthur Farro gifted her several years ago and ensured the pigment will only last three Ark-days.  It also only appears under certain lighting.”

“And it’s non-toxic, of course,” Hannah added with a smile. “Because, you know… Charly.”

I hesitated before asking the next question. “How non-toxic are we talking?”

To my utter horror, rather than respond, Parvati opened her mouth and used a different button on the pen to paint her entire tongue blue. “They’re edible.” She closed her mouth with a smile before her eyebrows shot up. “Oh! That one is pomegranate!”

Hannah furiously made notations on her datapad before looking back up at me. “Vati already tested them on canvas in her quarters, but we also wanted to make sure the simulation software works so that we don’t waste pigment trying to figure out the design elements.”

“We’re also rather curious about what flavor each one is,” Parvati admitted before swapping to a toxic-looking green. “This one is peach, I do remember that. The pink was popcorn.”

I shook my head. “Do you want people licking the walls? Because this is how you get people to lick the walls.” I walked over as I was speaking and idly picked up one that was labelled as Titan Black.

Hannah snatched it away quickly. “That one is scotch bonnet flavor. I found that out the hard way.”

“I get making them non-toxic, but why are they flavored?” Hannah arched an eyebrow at me and I held my hands up defensively. “Other than the obvious application. Why design flavored paint pens for the Food Festival murals?”

Parvati blanked the emitter again and swapped pens. “That is going to be part of the design and experience,” she started to explain. “We originally wanted them non-toxic in case of the non-zero event that Else tries to eat the paint off the walls.” I nodded since ‘non-zero’ was putting it lightly. “Then I had the idea to include the possibility of Else eating the mural into its design.  Rather than worry that Else will eat it, I am planning on it: I am going to create a piece that changes as the various colors are devoured.”

“Annnnnd how do you plan on controlling what order Else eats everything in?”

She waved to the row of pens on the table. “These are each in a flavor that we know Else likes. I am currently testing in my quarters what the order of preference is.”

As my mind started to catch up, I started nodding. “Your test swatches last night.”

“Precisely. I have them laying out in a grid, easily accessible to Else, and they are being monitored. We will take the recording and determine what the order of preference is from there.”

I shook my head with a huge grin. “That’s one hell of a performance art piece.”

Hannah straightened her posture in an imitation of Pravati’s normal ramrod-straight demeanor. “There is nothing more fitting for a celebration of how humanity persists in surviving, despite how transient and brief life can be, along with a clear showing of how we intend to welcome and embrace the differences between ourselves and those most different from us - even those who once nearly destroyed us but wished to make peace.”

“That’s frighteningly good,” Parvati praised nonchalantly as she squirted a fluorescent yellow into her mouth. “It makes no sense for that one to taste of something spicy.”

I took the pen and forced myself to spray it in my mouth. I perked up when it was actually very familiar and delicious. “It’s gochujang…” They both looked at me skeptically. “Apparently Else likes spicy food?”

“I’m starting to think this is how she flavors her popcorn,” Hannah murmured.

My head shook on that one. “No, all her popcorn is decidedly popcorn-flavored. The coloring is added while it is being made, along with the flavoring. Same thing with her ice-cream, and with the candy bars.”

“I agree,” Parvati added. “This pigment is quite wet, it would never work on something like popcorn.” Pausing in her testing, she turned to me. “She has made popcorn in your quarters before, did you notice how she colored it?”

I thought back to the movie night, fighting through how nostalgic and relaxing it made me feel. “It has to be a high-saturation powder.  Other than the actual oil she used to pop it, everything she put in was powdered.”

“But it was toffee popcorn,” Parvati argued. “I remember because it was such a lovely shade of purple.”

Hannah and I both glanced at each other before turning concerned looks to Parvati. I was the one who eventually spoke. “You make toffee popcorn by adding sugar and salt while it’s being popped, Vati. Both are powders.”

“And how am I supposed to know that?” she demanded with a scowl before picking up a pen.

I looked back at Hannah, who was as baffled as I was. “Vati? Do you cook?”

She scoffed. “Of course not. Xiomara is a brilliant cook, why would I give that up?”

“But you know how, right?” I prodded. “We always have cooking classes going on here.”

She decidedly ignored us.  I gaped at Hannah, who eventually crowed with laughter. “Oh my god! We found something Vati doesn’t know how to do!”

“Xio does make a wicked roti with veg curry,” I tried to defend her. If she was deflecting, Parvati clearly didn’t want to talk about it.

“And I can cook,” Parvati argued. “I can roast meat, and forage edible plants, and clean them both.”

“Works for me!” I chirped, trying to defuse the situation before Parvati actually got upset. “If you can cook enough to feed yourself in an apocalypse, I consider that a solid fundamental basis.”

Hannah finally took the hint. “Well, if you ever want to learn more, gods know you have plenty of friends who can teach you. Hell, Sophia taught Maverick to cook, and when they first met he had a very iffy relationship with the concept of food in general.”

That got me a look. “He had been through a lot, okay? You spend thirty years with everyone blaming your sensory issues with food on just ‘being picky’,” I used air quotes for emphasis, “and yeah, you start living on the three foods you like and a lot of vitamins and protein drinks.”

Parvati stopped in her tracks and slowly turned her head toward me before taking a seat. “How did someone who doesn’t even eat to live end up with two people who live to eat?”

I felt my face heat up, but managed to limit my reaction to a shrug. “If he said he didn’t like something, I took that at face value and didn’t make him eat it. If he never had it, I thought really hard about how similar it was to things he did or didn’t like, and offered it to him - or didn’t -  based on that.  I never took it as a challenge I needed to make him overcome, just as a challenge I needed to rise to.”

She considered this for a moment, glancing to Hannah who nodded in confirmation, before speaking. “This is why you cook.” It wasn’t a question. Parvati stated it as a fact.

And I confirmed it was, indeed, a fact. “One of the few things Huynh and I agree on is hospitality. I don’t want anyone to come to my table and feel they can’t eat.  It’s how I was raised.  There will be food they like, and plenty of it.”

I heard a popping noise from Hannah’s direction, and turned only to realize that it was her neck popping when she turned from Parvati to me.  Eyes wide, she was barely audible when she whispered, “That’s why the Food Festival is so important to you…”

It took several attempts and a lot of nodding to swallow the lump in my throat. “We were all scared, and all strangers in this insane reality that we weren’t even sure was actually real.  I thought - knew - it would ground us, and even start uniting us. If we could all see that arroz con pollo, paella, chicken biriyani, chicken etouffee weren’t all that different? What’s more familiar than chicken and rice, or fried puffs of dough, or pancakes?” I shook my head. “I remember my first day on the Ark. I was in a mess hall, and even with my sister and cat, I knew I was luckier than most but so lost.  I just - “ I gulped and fought back tears. “I wanted shepherd’s pie so bad it hurt my soul. And I tried and tried to get it from the food consoles, and it was never the right thing. I must’ve tried eight times. It was so frustrating!” I didn’t catch myself in time to keep from slamming my fist a couple times on the table. “I felt even more lost.  Someone came up to me and asked what I was doing.” 

I took a deep breath to banish the concept of Arantxa from my head. “And dragged me to Conor because she realized that what I was saying and what she was hearing weren’t the same thing.  That’s how I actually met him. And, bless his face, he knew exactly what I was asking for and got it for me if I promised to help him get French toast, of all things.”  The memory made me smile. “Believe it or not, that moment mattered more to me than even waking up on the Ark when I should have been dead. Just… the idea that this person who knew nothing about me except what I wanted for dinner, was able to fix that lost feeling.  I want everyone to have that.”

Parvati was staring at me like she was watching the most romantic story in the world, but at least Hannah nodded seriously. “Steak and ale pie. I always want that when I’m stressed.”

I snapped my fingers and pointed at her. “Exactly. And multiply that by every type of steak and ale pie anyone can possibly make on the Ark? I know I don’t have to convince you two to keep the Festival anymore, but yeah.  That’s why it matters so much to me.”

I turned to Parvati, who was drumming her fingers and looking down somewhat sheepishly. “Most cultures have a kind of curry, so I never really thought about it,” she admitted. “But it makes sense, from that perspective. I never thought about it.”

Reaching out to pat her hand, I gave her a serious look. “That doesn’t mean you have to learn to cook anything more than what you already know,” I assured her. “It’s my motivation. No one else’s. If you ever want to learn to make something you don’t know how to, I’ll be happy to teach you. If you never want to learn how to make anything you don’t know how to, I will be happy to cook for you. Just… don’t ask me to bake? That’s a Tyche thing.”

She groaned. “Those mini black forest donuts….”

“Exactly. Don’t ask me to make them, I’ll ruin them ten times out of ten,” I laughed.

“She should make donuts for the Festival,” Hannah suggested wistfully. “Do you think we could talk her into it?”

I held up my hands in surrender. “I’m not asking her to do it, so have fun.”

“But you’re her sister.”

“How the hell do you think I know not to ask?” I gave them both a flat stare that set them giggling. “Donuts for the family? Fine. Donuts for the whole entire Ark? Not touching it.”

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[duckymcdoorknob]

BNHA Boys Headcannons:

He Hears You Sing for the First Time.

Hi fellas!! Welcome to my BNHA headcannons! I wanted to write something other than my normal fics, so I’ll be posting a master list of these scenarios and updating them mostly bi-weekly! ❤️✨

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Katsuki Bakugo:

Tonight was a calm night during the sports festival. Classes 1-A and 1-B were at a shady bar, engaged in a heavy karaoke contest. It all started with a certain Monoma deciding that 1-B could be superior to 1-A in anything they wanted. Jirou decided to pick a karaoke contest.

Inside, you were mentally cursing yourself. You had never revealed your talent and it didn’t match with your quirk whatsoever. Nonetheless, If it would get that corn-headed bastard to shut up, you were willing to make a personal sacrifice.

After Jirou finished her rendition of I Hate Myself for Lovin’ You, she received almost max on the applause-o-meter. Next it was Tetsutetsu’s turn. You spaced out trying to figure out what you were going to sing. Then it hit. The best song. You didn’t even have to sing, just speak fast. It was perfect.

Tetsutetsu received low applause, making you feel bad in a way, but not too much.

“Next to the stage. Class 1-A, (Y/N) Tamayaki” Monoma announced.

As you passed by him, he flicked your shoulder. You turned your head and scowled at him, “if you’re scared about me beating your 5 on the meter...” you walked on the stage and tapped the mic, “you should be.”

You whispered to the DJ, selecting your most straightforward repertoire song, It’s The End of The World As We Know It

The familiar tinking of the intro played, gaining some hoots and hollers from the crowds. You took to the microphone, “that’s great it starts with an earthquake, birds, snakes and aeroplanes, Lenny Bruce is not afraid”

You masterfully complete the first verse, without a misstep or stutter. Seeing Monoma look like a deer in headlights made it all the more satisfying. When moving into the chorus, you notice a head full of blonde spikes walk through the door.

“Six o’ clock, Tv hour...” you spoke so fluidly it was almost mechanical. The usually stoic boy turned to look at you with a hint of shock in face. You moved through the second verse with a little wobble, mixing a word or two after seeing the explosive blonde.

“The other night I tripped a nice continental drift divide. Mt. St. Edelide...”

After the entirety of the bar shouted “Leonard Bernstein” at you, your turn was almost up. You finished the song with full power in your voice.

The audience erupted into boisterous cheering, leaving you dazed on the stage. Jirou ushered you away with a, “why the hell didn’t you tell us you sang?”

As you passed by Bakugo, you felt a rough hand on your shoulder.

“Oy extra,” a gruff voice sounded, “that was pretty damn cool. Since when do you do that shit?”

Your cockiness from Monoma never left you, “it’s always been there, pretty boy, just never let anyone know it.” You get on your toes and whisper in his ear, “it goes much deeper than this. Let me know when you want to hear more.”

You walk off with Jirou, earning a high five from her. Bakugo stood dumbfounded. Maybe you weren’t an extra after all.

Izuku Midoriya:

Class 1-A’s antics never did end. Kirishima insisted on the whole class hearing his singing voice, a god awful one may I add. So, the class was broken out into full on song.

You had never shown anyone you could sing, it just didn’t fit with your quirk. So you held it off. As soon as the whole ordeal started growing, you found yourself walking to the front of the school.

You plant down on a bench, plugging in your earbuds. You scroll through your Spotify playlist, but ultimately let it shuffle. You un-tensed as the beginning of The Boys of Summer echoed in your ears. You closed your eyes and let lazy lyrics escape your lips.

“Nobody on the road, nobody on the beach...” you quietly echoed the song.

This was the true symbol of peace: no one to bother you while you listened to a bomb ass song. You didn’t notice the added weight on the bench next to you until it was too late.

“Well I can see you, your brown skin shining in the sun...” you quietly let the words escape your lips like clockwork.

You opened your eyes to take in the world around you. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw Izuku sitting right next to you.

“I-uh h-h-hi! Sorry to bother you, but you just disappeared. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

You chuckled softly. How could you be mad at this stuttering mess?

“Um (Y-Y-Y/N)? C-could you keep singing for me?” Izuku was flushed. He was embarrassed with himself, clearly.

You let out a soft breath of air, your lips curving into a smile. You let the next words of the song release from you. You leaned back onto Izuku’s lap, not thinking anything of it. You felt the boy tense up in your lap, but he ultimately relaxed and began to play with your hair.

Okay you lied, this was the true symbol of peace. You spent the whole afternoon in the same position; singing along to whatever song happened to be next in the shuffle.

Denki Kaminari: (got a little carried away here. I’m a Kami hoe)

Certain days bring certain events that you can never plan for. The spring festival most definitely had the it’s surprises in store.

You were hanging out with your friends, Mina, Bakugo, Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari. Today has been the best day you’ve ever experienced. So many fun filled events! Bakugo dominated ring toss and won a giant stuffed zebra for himself, plus a giant stuffed Pikachu for Denki. Sero won the ropes course, receiving a small teddy bear. Mina and Kirishima took on a milk bottle toss, in which they both walked away with a stuffie of their own.

“(Y/N)-Chan! You haven’t won a prize yet! What game can we all play to get one?” Mina chimed

“Oh! I’m not sure! I’m not very athletically inclined, if you catch my drift.” You rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment.

“That’s okay! Neither am I, I just have a good throwing arm” Mina beamed back in response.

You gave her a closed-eyed grin as you continued with the group. You had to admit that you wanted a stuffie of your own, but how were you supposed to win one?

“Ooooh! Look! Look!” Kirishima’s voice suddenly rang.

You look up to see a midsize stage, a huge crowd of your fellow students and Present Mic setting up a microphone. This should be good...

“Attention studennnnntsssssaah!” A booming voice echoed through the field, “come to the stage for a cool talent show! Winner receives a speeeeeecial prizzzeee!~”

You looked at Kiri with furrowed eyebrows. You hadn’t told anyone about your singing voice yet, so you played dumb.

“What could I possibly bring to the stage? My quirk? You’ve all seen it already.” You snapped in defense while fiddling with your hair.

“You can sing! I heard you humming in the common room!” Kirishima bit back in rebuttal.

“That doesn’t mean a damn thing! And even if I could, Ive got tons of other people to go against!”

You looked amongst your friends, who all had the same look in their eyes. You hung your head down and went to Present Mic to sign up.

After a few minutes, your name was called. You mentally cursed yourself as you shuffled onto the stage.

“Next in our competition, (Y/N) Tamayaki!” Present Mic announced.

You looked at Kirishima, who gave you a thumbs up. As the music started, you sucked in a breath. This is it. The tempo grows and accompaniment becomes more intense. You can’t help but smile.

“Movin’ on the floor now baby, you’re a bird of paradise” you began to sing.

Kirishima cheered. Rio was a favorite amongst you and Kiri. You moved through the first verse with great ease.

“Her name is Rio and she dances on the sand.” You were feeling free, not holding back a bit. You sang your heart out through the next verse, masterfully completed the second chorus, and chuckled as the instrumental break sounded.

As the saxophone began to play, you felt a hand on yours and soon you were spun around. Kirishima has come up to the stage to get you to “loosen up”, but he just wanted to perform with you.

“You make me feel alive, alive alive! Luck is on my side or somethin’, I know what you’re thinkin!” You chimed as Kirishima spun you again.

You started the final chorus, while Kirishima beckoned the whole audience to sing. They all obliged except for one...

A dazed Denki stood with a pink tinge on his cheeks. He was awestruck for sure, for you had never revealed this side of you to him.

As the song ended, you stuck your microphone up in the air and smiled wide. The audience roared in applause, and you won a (favorite animal) plushie.

You exited the stage and tried to grab the voluptuous plushie, but it was so heavy you stumbled backwards.

“Woa-! Careful (Y/N)!” Kaminari cried as he caught you by your underarms, “dude! What the hell that was SO cool!!”

You chuckled and helped yourself to your feet, taking one end of the plush and Kami on the other. You both met with your group while Kaminari pestered you with questions.

Ejirou Kirishima:

Finally! Your first semester of U.A High was complete! Today was a great day for you and your classmates to hang out. So, you and your friend group decided to go have lunch somewhere fun.

“Oye Bakugo, I don’t know If I’m comfortable with you driving. Especially considering you road rage something awful.” Denki intervened your thoughts.

“Oh yeah definitely. Do not let blasty over here behind the wheel.” You agreed.

Bakugo glared daggers at the two of you. “I’m a more than adEQUATE DRIVER THANK YOU!”

“You’re welcome! But you’re not driving.” You chimed in response, “Kirishima can”

“Hell yeah!” Kirishima beamed as he trudged to the driver’s seat of his Mustang.

Bakugo called shotgun first, so you were stuck in the backseat with Denki and Sero. Middle set between these two tricksters? Can’t be as innocent as it seems.

Nonetheless, Kirishima started up the car and put the top down. “We’re riding in style today my friends.”

You chuckled and relaxed in your seat. It would be about a 45 minute drive to go where you all agreed, but it would be a fun one. Kirishima turned on his spotify, letting it shuffle. Some slow song came on and you felt your eyes get heavy...

All of the sudden, you saw your eyelids again. You opened your eyes to see that you had fallen asleep on Kami’s shoulder, and that he had done the same.

“Long day at the mill I guess?” Kirishima asked, looking at you in the rear-view mirror with a grin.

You chuckled softly, he was right. You definitely needed that nap. At that moment, your favorite song played on Kirishima’s spotify, Fallen Angel by Poison.

“WAIT! You’re a poison fan too?!” You shot up, forgetting about poor Kaminari on your shoulder. The boy woke up upon impact with the seat, and you gave him an amused puff of air.

“Jeez (y/n) I let you sleep on my shoulder and tried not to move you. But all of the sudden the tables turn and you don’t do the same? Not cool.” Denki said with a pout.

“BUT LISTEN TO THE SONG!” You chimed.

“It’s just guitar right now.” Kaminari responded as he yawned.

“ITS SO MUCH BETTER THOUGH!” You cried, “She stepped off the bus and out into the city streets.” You began to sing.

Kirishima looked in the rear-view again. He saw you absolutely jamming as you sang. He smiled fondly and turned his attention back to the road.

“Just a step away from the edge of the fall. Sometimes you can’t choose-“

“It’s like a heads you win, tails you’re gonna lose!” Kirishima started to sing with you.

“WIN BIG, MAMA’S FALLEN ANGEL, LOSE BIG, LIVIN’ OUT HER LIES.” You both erupted in to song, causing an angry Bakugo to roll his eyes and let out a fond scoff.

You and Kirishima sang your hearts out until the song ended. You repeated this pattern with all of Kirishima’s other music. You and this boy shared such similar music taste.

Kaminari and Bakugo tried to be annoyed, but they couldn’t seem to find a reason to not be amused. When a song you all knew came on, everyone started singing, even Bakugo. Upon arrival at the restaurant, everyone was smiling and ready for a nice lunch.

“I never knew you had such a nice voice (y/n)!” Kirishima cooed, “you and Jirou should totally team up and make music together!”

Your face heated up. “Oh- uh! Heh, thanks Kiri! I’m happy to hear that you’re a man of culture as well. Not many people our age know about Poison.” You rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment.

Kirishima’s eyebrows raised with excitement, “oh yeah! I love older music! There’s just something about it! I mean the backing music isn’t the main focus of the song, it’s like an accompaniment for the vocals and-“

“Jesus Christ Kirishima. Get a fucking room you two, you sound like Deku with all that rambling” Bakugo’s annoyed voice sounded. You both felt your faces heat up at the comment, walking into the restaurant with a new idea in both of your minds.

Shoto Todoroki: (got carried away here too uwu)

A lonely rainy day. The boys were all at the pool for some “extra training”. It was close to your birthday and the girls were out to find a present for you. You chuckled softly at the thought. You knew straight away what the girls were planning.

“(Y/n) Chan!” Uraraka’s voice echoed through your thoughts, “were going to the shop to get a-“ she cut herself off, “some snacks for you today! We want to get some (favorite chip flavor) chips!” She beamed.

You nodded in response with a goofy grin. They’re the best friends you could ask for. All of the girls took off in an instant, leaving you in the dorms by yourself.

“Waste not want not.” You hummed to yourself as you made your way into the common room. You prepared yourself a mug of (favorite warm drink) (hot choccy gang) and planted down by the large bay window.

The world was silent. Nothing daring to make a sound, but the pitter-patter of the rain outside of the window. You sighed with great satisfaction. How could this day possibly get better? You grabbed your phone and earbuds from the couch and turned on your Spotify.

“Well... it’s just me here. I can practice my audition music if I wanted.” You thought out loud. You clicked in the playlist containing all of the songs that suited your voice the most.

You instantly relaxed and prepared to start as the familiar tweets and twitters of Green Finch and Linnet Bird played through your earbuds.

“Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird, how is it you sing?” You began to softly sing, “how can you jubilate sitting in cages, never taking wing?”

You stared out the window, as if you were acting out the scene yourself, “Outside the sky waits beckoning, beckoning, just beyond the bars.” You stood to your feet and let the music run through you. No one was here to judge you, no one could laugh or glare or, in Bakugo’s case, sneer at you. “How can you remain, staring at the rain? Maddened by the stars?”

You were now in the center of the room, sitting on the couch. “How is it you sing? Anything?” The music crescendoed into a melodious break. You continued to the window, singing the song ever so softly, as if you were singing a lullaby. “Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird, teach me how to sing.”

The rain fell harder as you plopped down on the window ledge, “if I cannot fly... let me sing.” You stared out the window with a soft smile on your face. Yes... this is the best way to spend your birthday. Completely alone, cup of (drink) in hand, singing your heart out... Nothing could beat it.

You noticed that you were out of (drink) and returned to the kitchen to pour yourself some more. Upon exiting, the cord of your earbuds snagged along the handle of a drawer. Before you had time to react, a small beam of ice froze your drink, keeping you from burning yourself.

“Are you alright, Tamayaki?”

You stood dazed, unable to process everything. Your mouth sat agape as you tried to usher a sentence.

“(Y/N)? Everything’s fine, you didn’t fall, I caught you.”

That’s when you noticed the arm gripped around yours. You turned to meet the concerned eye of your best friend, Shoto Todoroki.

“A-Ah! Gomenasai Todoroki-San!” You stuttered as your face heated up, “gee how embarrassing.”

Todoroki simply grinned with an exhale of air. Your eyes widened and eyebrows furrowed as you swallowed, “that means you’ve been here the whole time... and you heard me-“

“Singing? Yes. Your voice is quite beautiful. It was a great accompaniment to my embroidering.” Todoroki admitted with a soft smile.

“-was gonna say talk to myself but...” you covered your face with your hands, “no one’s ever heard me sing before! I was always so careful!”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed. You truly have a gift.” Todoroki said softly, “if you don’t mind, I would like to embroider while you sing to me.”

You pondered. “Well you’ve already heard me, so there’s no sense in hiding. But, I do need some more (drink), because you kinda like froze my original cup.” Shoto nodded with a chuckle and turned on his heel to grab his supplies.

You smiled and retreated to the kitchen for a new cup of (drink). You then sat down on the couch, scrolling through your playlist to find something slow and quiet. When you felt the ouch weigh down next to you, you absentmindedly rested your head on his shoulder.

“Happy birthday (Y/N). Such a peaceful afternoon must be a gift.”

“Hanging with you is a gift enough.” You muttered, hoping he wouldn’t hear you.

“I feel the same. Now, I want to hear your beautiful voice again. Hop to it.” Shoto gently commanded.

You obliged and spent your quiet time with him. Hours passed and still you both sat, attention on each of your hobbies. Nothing could ruin this incredible moment. Until Uraraka bursted through the door, causing you to spill an entire mug of scalding (drink) in your lap...

“Happy friggin birthday.” You cringed as Todoroki patted your lap with a cold dish towel.

[rhys-writes-sometimes]

Music Worth Making Part 5: The Other Side of Hollywood

Requested: sort of

Warnings: some angst, bad writing, the feeling that something is off (I can’t really describe it, but feel free to send in an ask/comment on the fic if you want me to tag it)

Series Summery: When the readers life is ripped from them, they're left distraught. However, with the help of their best friends, Julie and Flynn, and a band of three certain ghosts, the afterlife might not be so bad after all.

Chapter Summery: You and the boys go to the Hollywood Ghost Club

Words: 2964

A/N: I’m going to be trying to write as much as I can this week because school starts up again next week. After that I won’t have a break until summer vacation, so I’m not sure how much writing I’ll get done. I’ll do my best to keep writing, though!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6 | Masterlist

______________________________________________________

“That’s him,” you said to Luke, your eyes wide.

“Who?”

“The man who killed me.”

Luke looked at you in shock. “What?”

You didn’t answer him, however. You were staring at the man with a mixture of shock and terror as he started singing and moved towards you. 

You gripped the edges of your chair in horror as you realized you recognized the song. It was the one you had been hearing in the back of your mind since you died. 

“Let me introduce myself, we got some time to kill,” the man sang, moving closer to your table. “Consider me the pearly gates to your new favorite thrills.”

You could feel the music pulling at you, trying to get you to join in, but you held back. Caleb narrowed his eyes slightly as he spotted you.

“We could go make history, or you could rest in peace. But here there ain’t no misery, ‘cause on the other side we live like kings.”

The pulling was becoming so powerful it hurt. You squeezed your eyes shut.

“Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do?

Let your body loose, let your body loose.

Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do?

Show you a thing or two, cause you ain’t seen nothing!”

You couldn’t hold out any longer. You felt the wooshing sensation of teleporting, and suddenly you were on the stage with a bunch of other people you could only assume were ghosts. Your clothes had changed, too. You were wearing a two-piece that revealed way too much in your opinion. It was mostly the color of Caleb’s suit, with a few black highlights. You looked like a matching set with him. 

You had no control over your body as you danced around him. The audience was loving it, clapping and cheering. 

And suddenly, you were singing.

“Everything has got a price, but happiness is free. 

Just so happens you’re in luck, we got a vacancy.”

Caleb joined you, your voices blending perfectly together as you danced. “We can set the night on fire and break out of the scene!

Your soul print on the walk of fame on the boulevard of your wildest dreams!”

You broke away from him and jumped onto the boy’s table, dancing on top of it. 

“Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do, boys?”

“Let your body loose, let your body loose.”

“Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do, boys?”

Your foot almost hit Reggie’s face, but Caleb stopped it just in time. 

“Ain’t bragging if it’s true, no you ain’t seen nothing!

Life is good on the other side of Hollywood! 

Life is good on the other side of Hollywood!

So welcome to the brotherhood where you won’t be misunderstood!

Life is good on the other side of Hollywood!”

You danced around the stage, most often by the boys table. Even though they were seated in the middle, you didn’t think that was a coincidence. 

You belted out the lyrics along with Caleb, until the end when he disappeared behind a sheet. Everyone, including the boys, stood and clapped as you took a bow. 

Suddenly you were back at your table, in your regular clothes. 

Luke looked at you in shock. “How’d you do that?” 

“I don’t know,” you said with a frown. You didn’t know if he meant the dancing or the singing or, well, whatever had just happened, but you had the same answer for all the questions. 

“This is so cool!!” Reggie waved at some lifers across the club. 

“Man, dude, I knew I recognized him! He’s the guy who bumped into me outside the Orpheum,” Alex said. 

“Wait, isn’t he that magician dude that died a horrible death doing a trick?” Reggie asked, causing you to laugh.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t really bring that up when we meet him.”

“Yeah, but you guys should come back when he shows one of his movies,” Willie said with a smile. “I mean, for Titanic, he literally floods the entire place. I mean, the guy has got skills.”

“Alright, but he can just wave his arms and make ghosts visible to lifers?” Luke said, crossing his arms.

“Told you, the guy’s got skills,” Willie said with a small chuckle.

“So… where’d he go?” Reggie asked, looking around. His eyes landed right behind you. “Oh! Found him!”

You turned around and almost ran into him. 

“Hello, gentleman, and gentlefolk,” he added, turning to look at you. “Caleb Covington. Welcome to the Hollywood Ghost Club. Enjoying the show?”

“Yo, that was….. I mean… did you, like….” Luke said, unable to form a complete sentence at the thought of the show. 

Caleb chuckled. “I know, right?”

“This is Alex, Luke, Reggie, and Y/N,” Willie said, pointing to each of you in turn. 

“We’ve already met,” you said, smiling coldly at your host. 

“Indeed we have!” Caleb kissed your hand. “And may I say, you make a wonderful dance partner.”

“Yeah, you guys were amazing up there!” Reggie exclaimed. 

Caleb smiled. “Nothing warms my heart more than sharing this magic with new friends. Please, sit.”

Luke pulled out a chair for you again, and you took it, smiling at him. You glanced at Caleb again, who was looking your way with a puzzling expression on his face.

“Thank you for the invite,” Alex said. 

“Of course, of course. Now! My friend Willie tells me that you boys have some magic of your own.”

Alex glanced between him and Willie. “Well, Willie and I? I mean, I wouldn’t really call it magic, but I mean…” His voice was higher than usual. 

“Oh, no, he means your ghost abilities. You know, like, to be seen by everybody when you play with Julie,” Willie corrected him. 

Alex stared at him for a moment before continuing. “No, totally. Right, no. ‘Cause when you said that, I was like ‘Is that what he said’? ‘Cause….”

Caleb waved a hand, letting him know it was fine. 

“Yeah, but we can’t really, uh, wave our arms and do all this magic stuff,” Luke said, trying to save his friend from further embarrassment.

“Well, I’ve had a lot of practice. Our gifts are so rare, so special. It’s not often I come across other spirits that possess similar talents.” Caleb smiled at the boys. “It’s no surprise we found each other.”

“Yeah, that, definitely,” Luke said.

“Well, if you forgive me fella’s, I gotta go pay the bills, if you know what I’m saying,” Caleb said, standing up. “I’ll be back later to chat.”

Reggie had a dopey grin on his face. “I love that dude! Please tell me this party is never gonna end.”

Your uneasy feeling from earlier was starting to fade into the back of your mind. He couldn’t be the man who killed you, could he? He was so nice.

A little while later, you found yourself talking to some lifers with Luke and Reggie. Alex and Willie had stayed behind to talk. 

“Wait, they made eight more Star Wars movies, and they killed Han Solo? What kind of future is this?” Reggie asked with tears in his eyes. He stormed away.

“We found out like, two weeks ago, okay? We just didn’t have the heart to tell him,” Luke said after he was gone. “Just please don’t mention Jar Jar.”

You heard Alex and Willie talking behind you. “There’s a lot to, um, like here,” Willie said before getting up from the table. 

“Oh, you got a crush on Willie!” you said, walking over to him.

Alex looked at you. “What? No, no, we’re just-”

“Alex, we’re happy for you,” Luke cut him off, coming over. 

“You guys are not gonna believe this,” Reggie said, walking over. “But someone just told me they added a character named Jar Jar. What’s a Jar Jar?!”

“I take it you all are enjoying yourselves?” Caleb asked, appearing behind Reggie.

“Yeah, I mean, you’d have to be insane to have a bad time here,” you giggled, all bad feelings gone. 

Caleb smiled at you. “Well, entertainment is our specialty. Now, I understand there is something I can help you with.”

“We hope so. There’s an old buddy of ours who ripped us off big time, and we wanna make things right,” Reggie said. 

“Yeah, we wanna look him in the eyes and make him admit what he did to us. So if you could make us visible, that would be perfect,” Luke added. 

Caleb hummed. “Well sure, I could do that, but we’re at a party! Why focus on those who have wronged us when we’re among friends?” He seemed to be speaking directly to you.

A bad feeling started to creep back in, but it went away before you could even realize why it had been there. 

“What about you, my little raven? What can I do for you?” He asked you. 

“Me? Oh, I’m fine! I just follow the boys around,” you giggled, a bit surprised by the pet name. You put your arms around Luke and Reggie’s shoulders, pulling them into a side hug. They seemed a bit surprised, but pleased.

Caleb nodded. “Well please, sit,” he said, gesturing to the chairs as he sat.

“What if I were to tell you that with a wave of my hand, you could share the spotlight with me… and join my houseband?”

“Oh, uh, we… we already have a band,” Luke said awkwardly. 

“Yes, but when you’re done performing, you disappear. You cease to exist. No bows. No soaking up the applause. No… no real connection to the audience. Here, the audience knows what you are, and more importantly, they know how special you are.”

You all looked at each other. 

“Well, it could be cool to play here,” Luke said hesitantly.

“Oh, it’s not just here,” Caleb said quickly. “No, we party like this all over the world. Tonight, Hollywood, tomorrow, Paris!”

“Oh là là,” Reggie said, leaning forward in his chair.

“It is all your dreams come true, forever.” Caleb drew out the proposal, then stood up quickly. “I’m gonna give you some time to think about it.”

“Oh, by the way,” he called out as he walked away, “make sure to try the sliders. They’re to die for.”

“We can eat?” Reggie asked excitedly.

Caleb nodded. “Here you can.”

A waiter came by carrying trays heaping with food and set them down on your table. 

You started to reach for a slice of pizza, but Alex suddenly said “Wait!” You all looked at him in shock.

“I want the one without cheese.”

You dug in, eating for what felt like the first time in forever. 

You all mumbled inhoherntly for a bit, enjoying the food.

“This is a meatball sub!” Luke exclaimed. “Oh my god!”

A little while later, you had finished shoving your face. Willie had come back over. Luke and Reggie were still eating, however.

“Pizza, man, I missed you!” Luke said, staring at the pizza. You laughed. 

“Reggie, are you kissing that meatball sub?” Alex questioned. You looked over at Reggie to see a blush creeping over his cheeks. 

“It’s what you do with the things you love,” he said defensively. Luke reached over and took your hand. You smiled at him.

“I take it you’re all enjoying the feast?” Caleb called from the stage. You hollered along with the rest of the crowd. 

“So many delicious sights, so many tantalizing sounds… but your eyes still hunger for more. Something sweet. Something… savory. How many newcomers do we have in the club tonight?”

You raised your hand along with Luke, holding your joined hands for everyone to see. 

Caleb smiled and turned to his band. “Ladies… let’s show our guests how we do dessert.”

The music started up again, Caleb scatting along. 

“I said, watch me make a move, watch me make a move, yeah!”

“Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do?” you sang along with the rest of the crowd.

Suddenly you were on the dance floor again, in your normal clothes this time. You found that you didn’t mind. Willie was there with you.

“Life is good on the other side of Hollywood!”

The boys stood up as a girl danced over to them, swinging around Luke before doing a full body shimmy in front of Reggie, causing the poor boy to almost faint. You felt a twang of jealousy in your heart, but you couldn’t figure out why. 

Two of the showgirls moved in on them, dancing with the boys. You caught a glimpse of Alex dancing with two of the men that worked at the club. Suddenly you were pulled into a dance with a guy and a girl. Smiling and laughing, you danced with both of them, gasping in delight as they dipped you at the end of the song. 

The clock chimes rang out the hour.

“Oh, the haunting hour is upon us!” Caleb said ominously. 

You looked at the clock in fear. “How is it midnight?”

You heard Luke calling your name. “Sorry,” you mumbled to your dance partners before jogging over to him. Reggie and Alex were already walking towards the door. 

Before you could leave, however, Caleb teleported in front of you. 

“Gentleman, gentlefolk, what’s the rush? The party’s just getting started, and you have an eternity, after all.”

“You know that girl who can see us? We sort of bailed on her. See there’s this dance at her school, and her friend, Flynn, is a super cool DJ, like-”

“Yeah, I don’t think he has an eternity to hear this story,” Alex said, cutting off Reggie’s hasty explanation. 

“Basically, we’re late for a gig,” you said. 

Caleb frowned at you. “But what about my offer?”

“It’s very cool of you, Mr. Covington,” Luke said. “But like I said, we already have a-”

“A band of your own. I understand.”

You started to move past him, but he stopped you. 

“Oh, boys,” he said, looking past you. “If you ever want to come back and fix that little problem with your friend, the Hollywood Ghost Club is always open.”

Luke smiled. “Yeah, we’d love to come back.”

“Music to my ears,” Caleb smiled back. He shook hands with the boys, leaving a stamp on their wrists. You all looked at him in confusion. You were more confused why you didn’t have one then what they meant, however. 

“It’s just a little club stamp,” Caleb said in response to the boy’s unasked question. 

“Excuse me? Mr. Covington?” you asked. You didn’t usually ask questions, but something in you made you feel a bit more reckless than usual. “Why don’t I get one?”

Caleb smiled. “You already have one, my little raven.” Noticing your confusion, he added: “Check your ankle.”

You had forgotten about your ankle. Strange, it hadn’t hurt at all after you met Caleb. 

Sure enough, when you glanced down, there was a purple stamp.

“Whoa!” you exclaimed. “How’d you do that?”

Caleb smiled. “Magic. Until next time.”

You nodded and walked past him. 

“Peace,” Luke said. 

Reggie smiled at him, then walked past him to you and Luke. Alex joined you a moment later.

“Ready to go see our girl?” you asked, grabbing hands with Luke. The others nodded as you poofed out.

-----

“Julie, we are ready to rock this dance!” Reggie said as the four of you ran into the gym. “Which….is clearly over….”

“Jules, we are so, so sorry that we bailed on you,” you started, tears starting to form in your eyes as you truely realized what you had done to one of your best friends.

“Yeah, I mean, the night really got away from us,” Alex said. 

“And the twins,” Reggie muttered. Luke smacked him. 

“Y/N, I know you wouldn’t do this to me on purpose,” Julie said, ignoring the boys. “Flynn’s in the cafeteria getting ice cream. Do you wanna go help her?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Thanks,” you said, poofing out into the cafeteria.

“Hey, Flynn,” you said glumly. She jumped slightly, startled at your sudden appearance. 

“Oh, hey, Y/N. Where were you guys?” She asked, shutting the freezer door with her foot. 

“The boys dragged me along to a club. We only meant to stay an hour, but it was some kind of… time warp.” You shrugged. 

“Oh. And I’m assuming Jules is yelling at them now, but knew you would never intentionally hurt her, so she sent you to go find me?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

You had been walking as you talked. Before you realized it, you were outside of the gym again. 

Sharing a look, you and Flynn both pressed an ear to the door. 

“This was a mistake,” Julie said.

“You- you mean the school dance, right?” Luke asked.

“No. I mean joining a band with you guys”

You heard footsteps and shooed Flynn away from the doors. You poofed down the hallway so it would seem like you were just heading in that direction. 

“Hey. You okay?” Flynn asked as Julie came running out of the gym. 

She sighed. “I will be. Let’s just… go home.” She turned to look at you. “Y/N, if you don’t mind, would you mind staying with the guys? I don’t want them getting into any more trouble.”

You nodded. “Goodnight, guys,” you said before poofing back into the gym. 

“Uh, hey,” you said awkwardly. Luke nodded as hello. 

Reggie looked worried. “If… if Julie’s not in the band, then….”

“Then there is no band,” Luke sighed. 

Pain coursed through your body, starting at your ankle.

“Agh!” you heard the guys gasp as the same thing happened to them. 

“What was that?” Alex asked.

“It felt like we were dying all over again,” Reggie said, breathing heavily. 

Luke locked eyes with you. “How can we die if we’re already dead?”

Taglist: @sunsetcurvej @ifilwtmfc @xplrreylo @phantompogues @caitsymichelle13 @yagorlemmalyn

[jenonctcity]

No Nut November - Jaemin

Na Jaemin – Smut, Crack, Fluff

Warnings: Explicit content, a lot of mentions of penis’s, dirty talk, brief spanking, oral (male receiving).

Word Count: 3k

Summary: 00’s line take part in No Nut November.

The Rules of No Nut November:

You cannot have sex, masturbate, or nut in any way, shape, or form.

Watching pornography and having boners are allowed, but you can’t nut.

You are only allowed one wet dream. If you have more than one, then consider yourself out.

You do not have 3 strikes; you only have one shot at it. If you miss it, you’re out.

 If you have passed the month with a total of 0 nuts, you are a victor and you shall qualify for Destroy Dick December (Not Recommended).

Look man, just don’t nut in 30 days. 

Series

 Day 1:

Jaemin had made it very clear to you a week before the month changed to November, that he had every intention of doing no nut November. The week building up to it you had been pinned to whatever surface Jaemin had deemed fit and had been fucked hard. It was the best week of your sexual activity that you’d ever experienced, so you were kind of happy he was going to take part in the strange internet trend. You also knew once the month was over that he would go into a sex crazed state and give you a performance good enough to rival his last show.

However, it wasn’t you that you were worried about not being able to last the entire month. You were certain that Jaemin could not go a whole month without trying to get into your pants. You knew your boyfriend well enough to know that he had a very high sex drive, leading him to asking you for sex nearly every time he saw you. It didn’t help that he was the master of flirting. It made it easy for him to charm your underwear off your body. He had a knack for sending you dirty texts that were filthy enough for your face to heat up in want and slight embarrassment. He once sent you a dick pic that your friend was absolutely mortified to have seen by accident when you opened the text, not having expected him to send pictures of his meat in the middle of the day.

As you stood in your local book store, enjoying the peace and quiet it bestowed upon you, you browsed the fiction section, hoping to find a book about a hopeless romance that ended in heartbreak or a forever love, your phone buzzed in your pocket. It caused you to jump a little but luckily, you’d remembered to put your phone on silent before entering the book shop. You pulled it from your pocket and smiled softly when you saw the contact name said ‘Nana’.

“I miss you :(” his text read, your smile widening at his adorable use of the sad face emoji. You wondered if his text had a hidden meaning or not but decided it probably didn’t because it had only been about half day since he last got his dick wet. You took your time to reply, typing with one thumb as you glanced between your phone and the bookshelf in front of you.

“You saw me about 4 hours ago, I was naked in your bed. Remember?” You replied with a soft giggle, not even surprised when his reply came less than 20 seconds later.

“I remember well! ;) But do you not miss me?” You could almost hear the pout he was more than likely sporting through the words written on your screen. You smirked, trying to suppress a giggle as you replied.

“No.” You quickly followed up with another text. “Just kidding, love you boo.”

“Ouch. My heart bleeds.”

“How are you holding up? Not touched your precious pleasure rod yet have you?” You couldn’t help but ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

“First of all, ew, never call Jaemin Junior a pleasure rod ever again. Secondly, no I haven’t touched it yet! Have some faith in me!”

“Ew since when have you referred to it as Jaemin Junior?”

“Since now, actually I hadn’t even thought about anything sexual until you brought it up you perv!” You sniggered, rolling your eyes and leaving him on read as you went back to scouring the shelf for the book you desired.

 Day 2:

“Hey babe…” Jaemin patted your thigh, trying to gain your attention as you sat beside him in a taxi. You were on the way to a movie theatre and decided a taxi was the best way to avoid the downpour of rain hitting the earth forcefully.

“Yeah?” You tore your line of sight away from staring out of the window to look at him.

“Have you got any nudes on your phone?” He leaned in close, his lips beside your ear as he whispered lowly to make sure the driver didn’t hear him.

“Na Jaemin!” You whisper-shouted at him, not believing the audacity he had to ask you that in the back of a taxi.

“Please baby just give me your phone and I’ll find them myself.” He whined, holding his hand out to your expectantly.

“No!” You slapped his hand away, watching the way his lips turned into an endearing pout.

“Please…I can’t remember what your body looks like…” You shoot him a disapproving glare, shaking your head slowly at him.

“No!”

“Fine!” He turned away, folding his arms over his chest and pretending to throw a tantrum. He didn’t ask again but later on you did send him a cheeky booty pic, much to his excitement.

 Day 5:

The hot rivets of water hit your skin and ran down the contorts of your body, leaving a warm sensation flooding through your system. The water had no competition against Jaemin’s soft lips peppering open mouthed kisses across the back of your neck. The plush pillows sending cool shivers down your spin, a complete contrast to how hot your body felt.

“I want you so bad baby girl.” He murmured, his words almost getting lost amongst the noise of the water hitting all the surfaces of the shower. You hummed in acknowledgment, his hands wrapping around your from behind, fingers teasing you on their ascent to your breasts. “Let me make you feel good.” His big hands cupped your soft boobs, thumbs and forefingers each pinching your hardened nipples. A bolt of pleasure shot through you, it rippling down your body from your chest to your neglected clit. You became putty in his hands, him pulling your flat against his chest and gyrating his hips into yours enough for you to feel the prominent erection he’d formed.

A sudden reminder popped into your head. A reminder that Jaemin was supposed to be participating in no nut November. You rolled your eyes, pulling away from his grasp – although somewhat reluctantly, and turning to face him.

“I knew you’d try to fuck me before the end of the month.” You smirked at him, moving your hands up to cup his cheeks and pecking the gobsmacked look off of his lips with your own. He struggled to form words, his mouth opening and closing as he stared down at your smug face. “You’re weak Na Jaemin.” You whispered, leaning in and taking his lips between your own in a lingering, steaming kiss, the water running over your heads as you got in the line of the water streaming from the shower head. His arms looped around your torso, pulling you against him and holding your naked bodies together.

“I’m not weak.” He whispered into the kiss, his tongue poking out and trailing over the lining of your lips before working its way into your mouth. He flicked his tongue against your own, rolling his hips into yours and moving his hands down to squeeze your ass. He moved his lips down your face, to your jaw and nipping at your wet skin.

“You’re still trying to-” Your words were cut off by a moan slipping from your parted lips, his perfect mouth sucking right on the spot he knew would make your knees shake.

“Let me treat you.” He spun you around, forcing you up against the wall of the shower, bent slightly and presenting your ass out to him. You bit your bottom lip, spreading your legs apart enough to give him access to your dripping heat. He trailed his fingertips down your spine, the slight tickle causing shudders to shoot across your nerves. He ran the palm of his hand over the curve of your ass cheeks, removing it only to bring it down on your skin with a slap. You gasped in surprise, relaxing as he spanked you once more before jamming a finger inside your slick hole. “So wet for me baby girl, do you like it when I spank you?” He used his free hand to bring it down on your ass once more before leaning that hand on the shower wall and putting all his weight on it, his body hovering over yours.

“Yeah…oh god.” You moaned, rutting your hips back into his hand. He slowly withdrew his finger, circling your sodden hole with the tip of his finger before ramming it back inside of you, pumping it slowly to loosen you up. He added another finger, his lips attaching themselves onto your shoulder. He smirked when you whined against the cold shower wall, the warm water cascading down onto your body, but it was the warmth you felt from Jaemin that was making you overwhelmed.

“You want me to fuck you with my fingers harder?” He bit at the skin of your shoulder, maintaining the slow pace with his fingers. “Answer me.” He growled, stopping his fingers altogether at your silence.

“Yeah! Fuck me hard!” You whimpered at the loss of stimulation, wiggling your hips as an incentive for him to continue.

“As you please princess.” He smirked, thrusting his digits back into you hard and fast. The hand he was using to hold himself up on the wall moving to cup your breast in his hand. His fingers working over your sensitive nipple causing your eyes to roll into the back of your head.

“Jaemin!” You squeaked, your head lolling back onto his shoulder as the knot tightened in your stomach. “Right there don’t stop!” A gasp ripped from your chest, his teeth biting into your shoulder enough to leave teeth marks behind as the white-hot feeling rushed through your body, your climax hitting suddenly. Your chest rose and fell as you tried to catch your breath, your legs shaking and hips stuttering as he stopped his ministrations on your core.

“That’s my girl.” He gently kissed the bruise he’d made on your shoulder, withdrawing his fingers from you and opting to enclose his mouth around his dripping digits. He sucked them clean, dropping his eye into a wink and turning his back to you to wash his hair, his hard on being left unattended to, much to your surprise.

 Day 7:

So far, so good. To your knowledge, Jaemin had managed to not touch his penis in any sexual way at all, which again, had shocked you. You’d assumed he wouldn’t make even 3 days, so him having lasted a week actually impressed you. Despite many close calls, Jaemin had reigned in the hormones and want for you, simply keeping it in his pants, or by pulling away during your steamy session in the shower days prior. About an hour ago, Jaemin had fallen asleep on your bed, even though you’d both planned on walking down the local convenience store to buy snacks for the evening. Not wanting to disturb him because his sleeping face made your heart warm, you’d decided to go on your own and leave him to nap. Choosing not to rush, you’d taken your time in getting the snacks, and stealthily entered your apartment silently in case Jaemin was still sleeping. You’d dumped the snacks on the kitchen counter, and slowly creeped towards your bedroom. You raised an eyebrow in confusion when you heard weird noises emitting from the room. You held your ear to the door, listening as realization dawned on you, causing you to gasp loudly.

“Na Jaemin!” You burst into the room, pointing at him accusingly. “You’re watching porn!!!” He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, his eyes wide and arms folded across his chest. You paused, about to accuse him of losing no nut November when you noticed he wasn’t touching himself inappropriately. “You’re…erm…are you watching porn for the plot?” You glanced at the television opposite your bed, the scandalous video of a girl having a cock shoved down her throat greeting your eyes.

“Kinda…” He shrugged, grabbing the remote and shutting off the power.

“You’re so strange…” You both looked at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

“I was bored, and I missed it!” He defended himself, watching your every move as you slinked closer to the bed, a seductive look gleaming in your eye. You’d had enough of this stupid no nut November thing, deciding once and for all the test his resolve. “What are you doing…?” He asked suspiciously when you clambered onto the bed, throwing your leg over his own and sitting just above his knees on his outstretched legs.

“Oh nothing…” You bit your bottom lip alluringly, his eyes watching your hands as they slowly peeled down his jogging bottoms. “Lift your hips like a good boy yeah?” You winked, his hips lifting automatically to your order. You pulled his joggers down, his boxers coming down with them. His hard cock sprang up to his t-shirt, your eyes zoning in on it like a predator hunting its prey. You pushed his t-shirt up, exposing his defined abs and smirking as a bead of pre-cum oozed from the tip onto his stomach.

“Hey…don’t touch that penis missy.” He spoke with a dominating tone, you giggled, raising an eyebrow challengingly at him.

“Or what?”

“Or I lose no nut November!” He gulped, sighing and leaning his head back onto the soft pillow of your bed. “Fine. Touch it.”

“Yay!” You gripped his cock at the base, pulling it so it stood upright. Your touch took his breath away, a week proving to be too long for the absence of having his dick touched in a sexual manner. This is what he’d been craving since the he’d decided to take on this stupid challenge, and he knew he couldn’t last out long. You held eye contact with him, leaning down to rest the head of his cock on your bottom lip. “Tell me what you want.” He wasn’t used to this amount of dominance from you, it causing a firework of pleasure to burst inside his stomach.

“Suck my cock baby girl, make me cum.” You poked your tongue out, kitten licking another drop of pre-cum that spilled. The bitter taste didn’t bother you, and you actually enjoyed giving your boyfriend blowjobs, knowing a lot of your friends had different opinions on giving head. “Hurry.” His own dominance shone through, challenging your own and giving you the sensation of needing to comply to him. You fluttered your eyelashes at him, taking the head of his cock between your lips and sucking gently. “Oh fuck.” He wanted to bend his knees, but you were caging them underneath your body, restricting his movement. His fingers found their way into your hair, gripping at it gently. Without any warning, you took all of his hard length into your mouth, sucking harshly and bobbing your head up and down in perfect rhythm. Puffs of air left his parted lips as he tried to cope with the pleasure coursing through his cock, his toes curling in response.

You pulled off to wipe at your mouth, spit forming in the corners of your lips. You leaned forward, placing soft kisses on his abs and slowly trailing them back down to his red, leaking cock awaiting the presence of your warm mouth. You take him back in your mouth, making sure to stare into his soul as your drag your lips down his shaft and back up against tauntingly, letting your lips leave the tip with a pop. You use your hand to pump him fast, biting your bottom lip as his stomach starts to flex. He whimpered, squirming on the bed before letting out a loud grunt, his grip on your hair tugging harshly as he came. You’d opened your mouth in perfect time, white ribbons coating your tongue and lips.

“Fuck you look hot covered in my cum.” He panted, watching as you closed your mouth and made a point to lick your lips provocatively in front of him. “You’re a dirty girl.” He spoke lowly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he caught his breath. You let go of his cock, letting it flop to the side without cause. “Also, fuck you! I was doing great at no nut November and you just had to ruin it didn’t you!” After the bliss of his orgasm wore off, he sat up, pushing you onto your back against the bed. You squeaked in surprise, suddenly the ceiling being all you could see until Jaemin came into your view, his body hovering over your own.

“Punish me then.” Winking at him to rile him up, you trailed a hand over your own body, squeezing your boob over your clothes and grinning cheekily at him. “Do your worst.”

“You’re in for a long night baby girl.” He smirked his famous smirk at you, immediately diving in to suck at the crook of you neck. 

No Nut November: Na Jaemin - Fail.

(A/N: Hello! Thank you so much to everyone whose liked/reblogged/commented and messaged me about this series. It’s been a wild ride and I’m overwhelmed from the love its gotten! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know what you thought of the series as a whole and whether you’d like me to do Destroy Dick December!)

[cyndecreativity]

Day 3 - Spoiled for Choice

Duel – Lazy Sundays – “I’ve waited for this”

Sometimes having too much time can be a bad thing. Alden finds himself unable to make a choice about how to enjoy his first day off from Royal Hero Responsibilities.

~1350 words

---

Idania stepped softly, carefully, and smiled to Alden as she placed a tray of hot beverages on the table. He leaned forward to take his off the tray against her protest and moved it to his lips. A hiss escaped him and he returned it to the table, now free of the tray, before leaning back again.

“What is on the agenda today, kelara?” Idania absently flipped the tray up and almost tucked it under her arm, an automatic movement. She blinked and leaned the tray against the side of her chair instead.

Alden shrugged. “It’s been quite a while since I’ve had peace in my life. Always one crisis or another around every bend, bends that I have to keep travelling around. Ugh, I hate travel.”

She blew over her tea. “I thought you loved to travel. You always want to go see new cities and old ruins and such.”

His tail flopped over the edge of the chair as he fell against the back. “No! I mean, yes! I love that kind of traveling, the exploration. I hate having to travel, especially on foot, for hours and days on end.”

Porcelain clinked softly. “But don’t you also hate staying in one place for too long?”

He sagged, his face scrunched angrily. “Yes.”

She pushed air through her nose as a chuckle. “Sounds to me like you’re just tired, highness. Everyone deserves a good break.”

His brow lifted. “But for how long? Won’t I be needed back in the capital at some point?”

Idania’s tail stiffened slightly and she nodded. “You are, indeed, due back in the capital, but not for at least a few months. Right now, you are allowed a respite for the months leading up to the Scorpio Festival, in which you will be expected to perform the duties typically placed on your brother, as he is anticipated to still be in recovery.”

“I wonder what I should do.” His red eyes roamed the ceiling as he thought.

“Enjoy your lazy Sunday?” offered Idania as she took another sip of her tea.

“Hm.” His tail bobbed absently. “Feels wrong to do nothing. You understand, don’t you?”

She chuckled again. “I do. I spent years being unable to rest, serving the-.” She cleared her throat. “But that is precisely why I usually have ways to fill my time off. I spent so much time without any… time, that even when I am spoiled for choice, I can find something to commit myself to.”

He rolled his head to look at her over his cheeks. “What did you plan to do today?”

Her eyebrows raised. “Me? Depending on what you wanted to do, I had plans to read any number of the books in the library. Perhaps do a bit of journaling to chronicle our adventure. Maybe even pen some letters to our companions. I’m sure Gary would like to know about my progress with the Water Spirit. Whenever I got hungry, I intended to visit the kitchens and try a new recipe with the cooks. And if there’s still time, I suppose I could do a bit of exercise, testing out the magic that Spirit has gifted me with.”

Alden’s head rolled with a sound of disgust at almost every suggestion. The only ones that warranted a curious hum being the cooking and the exercise. His head and tail lifted at the exercise. “Exercise? You plan to exercise?”

Another small clink. “I have been told it is important for my health, and the health of the Spirit.”

His eyes narrowed in thought. She took another sip of the tea, her lips smacking at the heat of it. Reading held little enjoyment for him. He could draw, he supposed, if she read or wrote, but with the damage to his right hand, he had very little interest in the learning process in drawing with his left. He could still fight, however.

“How about we exercise together?”

She choked on her tea. “Highness?”

“Not like that!” Lewd ideas flashed in his mind and he considered them with a grin. “Well, maybe like that. For later. But I meant we could exercise together! It’s good for you, right?”

She took a slow breath, cheeks red. “I… I suppose. But our exercises take on very different forms. I have to meditate and practice communicating with the Spirit so that our intentions and thoughts are one. And you… would do best with a partner to spar or someone to go through the forms with. Different styles and all.”

His tail segments clacked together. “Then let’s duel.”

The teacup shifted from her hands to the table between them. “Duel. You want to duel? Me?”

Red eyes roamed her features, the puzzled and almost hurt expression. They fought beside each other in so many battles, relied on each other. She kept him and the others alive most of the time, by distracting the enemy or healing their wounds afterwards, sometimes even during. Suddenly the idea of fighting her seemed less than enjoyable.

He slumped back into the comfortable chair and pulled his feet up onto the cushion. “Yeah, you’re right.”

A relieved sigh left her. “Well, we are in Lotuserna. We could send for someone else to come visit and help with your desire to fight.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh yeah? Like who?”

She inhaled and her eyes roamed a bit as she searched her thoughts. “Ah… I believe Master Billy has been left here, but he’s doing questionably well. Master Gary is here as well, of course. Tristan is still stuck in Nashira, Andre is busy in Spica Virginis, but Sophie is here in Lotuserna while he’s getting the revolution handled and Valash is staying with her.”

The prince shot up at the mention of his oldest friend. “Valash?” He attempted to modulate his tone for casual interest, but his stinger quivered over his head.

She chuckled. “I’ll get a message over to the Suaveterre residence then, shall I?”

“Maybe I’ll head over there. We haven’t really been to the Virgo estate, yet, have we?” He stood and started out of the room.

“Coffee.”

A groan escaped him and he flumped back into the chair.

---

A few hours later, a Virgo servant opened the door to greet them into the Virgo Manor. Alden strode through the door, well-equipped with a bag over his shoulder. Idania bow-nodded to the servant, another behavior automatic to her from her previous professions. She clutched the strap of her own bag, lighter than Alden’s, that clinked a bit as she walked. The servant girl wandered off to alert the woman of the house that she had guests.

“I still don’t know why you wanted to carry the books, highness. I’m not entirely certain they are heavier than the weapons.” Idania adjusted the weight of her bag and whispered to the prince.

He wandered to look at a painting in the foyer. “Honestly, I would’ve taken them both if you hadn’t insisted.”

She sighed heavily. “Your mother made it very clear that you were to cover your right arm, and I don’t want either of us in trouble because you don’t want to.”

He turned around to her, sorrow in his brow. “Idania-“

“What’re you doing here?” A scratchy male voice drifted across the foyer.

Alden brightened. “Valash! You’re here!”

A slight shade of red found the half-breed’s ears. “What are you so happy about?”

Idania adjusted the weight of her bag, causing the clinking again. Alden dropped the bag of books in the foyer and reached out his left hand, the other wrapped in an elegantly embossed leather sling. Idania relinquished the bag of weaponry.

“I came to request your assistance in a delicate matter, old friend.” He reached into the bag and pulled out a dagger. “I’ve come to ask for a duel.”

Feathers rustled and Valash’s eyes drifted to the steel. For a moment, his features struggled to maintain some semblance of disdain or disinterest, a fight he quickly abandoned in favor of a toothy grin. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

[bandaged-writer]

swan song || dazai

➤ Pairing: PM! Dazai x Contemporary Dancer! Reader

➤ Genre: fluff, romance, angst 

➤ Warnings: mention of minor character death, mentions of suicide, alcohol consumption, innuendos, murder in the form of a nightmare, violence, language, blood, mental breakdown 

➤ Summary: Not even Dazai could predict that a certain calico cat would lead him to his serendipity made of bruised knees and angelic smiles. 

➤ Word count: 10k

➤ Note: This fic is very important to me since it’s partially based on events I went through as a dancer myself; therefore, I’d be really happy to hear what you think of it. Have fun reading. <3

It was rare for Yokohama's streets to be completely empty, especially when the moon illuminated even the darkest alleys and offered to lead the way home for many lost souls. Ever since November arrived and the trees' leaves had already fallen, the temperatures had dropped considerably. Snow began to fall and wrapped the port city in a gentle blanket of white; even in the dark of the night, branches shimmered in the moon's light, streets became as clear as day as the artificial light of street lamps was reflected from the snow's surface. 

For once, it was a tranquil night in which blood didn't stain the innocence of Yokohama. 

Dull footsteps filled the silence as Dazai followed the calico cat - Sensei - out of the bar Lupin. The cat had been pawing at the brunette's pants, meowing at him to finally leave the empty bar and catch some fresh air. Truth be told, Dazai didn't know why he listened to a cat of all creatures which graced the surface of this planet. Maybe it was the tiny voice in his head which wanted him to go home, rest his sore limbs and hopefully find some peace and quiet in the form of sleep. 

"Where are you leading me to, Sensei?" Dazai's tongue still tickled with the taste of whiskey, but his head was very much sober. Chocolate orbs watched how the cat left tiny prints of his paws in the snow and merely meowed at him in response as if telling the mafioso to trust him. Who was Dazai to deny the request of a lucky charm on four legs? "Yeah, yeah, got it." Odd, how the mafia executive found comfort in talking to a cat. 

Dazai's breath came out in white puffs of air which dissolved into nothing, the cold nipped at his cheeks and would hug him like the familiar arms of death if it weren't for the black coat wrapped around his slim form. As much as Dazai craved to die, freezing to death wasn't his favorite way to leave this world; he had standards, after all. 

Streets had long since blurred into one another when Sensei suddenly meowed out loud and pawed at the spinning door made of glass which was rimmed by a golden color. Raising his gaze, Dazai recognized the building immediately. It was an expensive theater which was often rented by the mafia to celebrate the success of bigger missions. Famous actors, singers and even dancers held their performances in the vast venue, but it was nothing but another building at night. 

"Are you sure, buddy?" A small smile decorated Dazai's usually unreadable face, a curious shimmer flashed in his eyes as he heard the soft bass of music being played from within. Another proof that Sensei certainly wasn't an average cat. Intrigued by what - or rather who - was awaiting him, Dazai entered and let a sigh of relief slip his chapped lips, Sensei always right by his side. 

Warmth greeted the mafioso, the red carpet below his feet silenced any sound his shoes could cause and possibly startle whoever was at the very heart of the theater. Cash registers were unoccupied, snack bars were filled with various treats, but they seemed to be untouched as well as the alcohol on display. Everything that was of value was still in place, unscathed. 

Every step Dazai took was in sync with the rhythm which faintly caressed his ears and he found himself enjoying the calm beat. Before the brunette knew it, he stood in the middle of rows upon rows of chairs, the cushions cold and unused as his eyes were focused on the dancer, clad in black, on the wooden stage. Dazai only registered how Sensei leapt on one of the chairs, everything else was unimportant. 

Bare feet floated across the floor from left to right, arms moved gracefully like the stretching wings of a swan. Eyes were closed in concentration as your heels turned to the right and your arms rested across your torso. Your left hand went around your head once, traced the line of your right arm and ended up intertwined with your other hand. Stretching your leg out in front of you, you swiftly kicked the limb to your side and let your torso follow the movement by dipping it low and coming to a standing position. 

The song Dazai didn't know came to an end, your heavy breathing filled the room along with the soft sound of your feet padding along the stage. 

"You know that staring at a woman is rude, don't you?" Your voice was rough around the edges as your lungs grasped for some much needed air. A thin layer of sweat made your face shine in the dim light and a smile settled down on your lips. Ripped out of his mesmerized state, Dazai chuckled at your reaction - he had expected you to yell at him, scream, threaten him, but instead, you called him out. "True beauty even makes a gentleman stare," he said. 

A rosy blush bloomed on your cheeks as you suddenly laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls which were decorated with rich designs and several paintings you couldn't name. "You sure know how to flatter a woman. I'll give you that," you sat down on the edge of the stage, right in front of Dazai and reached for your half empty water bottle. Honestly, you couldn't quite believe the stranger's words; who found a sweating person beautiful? Either way, you didn't bother to ask and simply let him have his fun. The mafioso sat down on one of the many chairs, took off his coat and let Sensei cuddle himself into the fabric. 

"Can you do that again?" 

"Huh?" 

"Dancing. Can you dance once more?" It was an innocent request from Dazai's point of view. He wanted to understand what you danced to, what made your body move and how you moved it. He wanted to understand the story behind it. With a soft gaze, you leaned forward, chin resting on your palm. "In exchange for your name, I will consider dancing, again," the smile on your face was pure, there were no hidden intentions behind your persona, just the innocence of curiosity. You were far from being a threat. "My name is Dazai. Dazai Osamu."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Dazai. I'm [Name] and not someone to deny the audience a wish," grabbing the hem of your black button down shirt, you wiped some sweat off your forehead and made your way to the bluetooth speakers which stood somewhere in the shadows. 

Dazai found himself drawn to the mere way you walked. Yes, he had seen many confident women, especially in the mafia - Kouyou was the best example for that, but no one carried themselves like you. There was an air of elegant confidence surrounding your being like a halo, every step was memorized by your legs, every turn you took was sharp. Dazai had never interacted with a dancer before, but he could tell you were one. An experienced dancer, too. 

His train of thought was interrupted by the soft sound of a plucking instrument being played and he saw the way you fell into a completely different persona. The air around you seemed to change into a melancholic one, your face reflecting emotions he saw daily: fear, anguish, melancholy. Gone was the friendly you. It was replaced by someone who looked like you. 

Naked feet glided across the stage with ease as you seemed to become the beat yourself. Muscles smoothly tensed up to hit a sharp beat and immediately slid into a more relaxed state like it was the only thing you knew how to do, like it was breathing. 

The closer Dazai looked, the more he noticed the calloused parts of your feet and for a moment, he wondered how much it had to hurt, but your face showed no signs of discomfort - if anything, you were at peace, in the middle of your very essence. 

Much like paintings, Dazai didn't quite understand the story behind it, couldn't put together the pieces you showed him. He only finished the edge of the puzzle you performed which gave the mafioso a slight idea of the bigger picture you were trying to show him and maybe if Dazai asked, you would tell him the story behind the dance. For some reason, he sensed that it was an intimate question to which the answer was the moves you generously provided. 

A slow jazz beat filled the empty bar named Lupin at nearly 00:00 o'clock, the faint smell of alcohol and cigarettes lingered pleasantly in the air. Only two seats were occupied at such a late hour; one by Dazai and the other seat was taken by Odasaku, the brunette's best friend. 

"You've been looking at the clock quite a few times now. You still got plans?" Odasaku took a sip of his glass of whiskey with a large ice cube in it. The liquor pleasantly burned his throat and warmed the older man up from within - very welcoming considering the minus temperatures waiting outside of the bar. A single finger traced the edge of Dazai's own glass, his mind occupied with something - no, someone - else. "I can't hide anything from you, can I, Odasaku?" A tranquil smile found home on Dazai's slightly chapped lips. Something about Oda figuring him out like any other person made Dazai feel normal instead of an oh-so-called demonic prodigy with an unmatched intellect. 

The mafia executive rested his cheek on his palm as he recalled the recent events. Sensei leading him to the theater, the soft thumping of a bass caressing his ears and his eyes landing on someone who bloomed on stage like a flower which was about to wither. "I was wondering if she was still up." At that, Odasaku's interest was piqued. It wasn't unusual for his suicidal friend to woo a woman, but it was unusual for him to wonder what his latest encounter was up to. "She?" The man was fairly curious, given that he usually witnessed how Dazai took a pretty lady home, but this time, Oda couldn't recall someone catching his friend's interest. 

"Last night, Sensei lead me to the theater which the boss often rents for celebrations. I thought that maybe Sensei just needed a place to sleep at, but when I got there, I met [Name]." Slowly, Dazai twirled his glass and watched the liquid moving around while Oda was attentively listening. It certainly wasn't a common story to meet someone. "She's a dancer. Ah, what was that style called?" The brunette looked up at the ceiling in thought, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. "Temporary? No, contemporary! She's a contemporary dancer." 

"Let me guess. You want to see her, again." Oda spoke, finished his glass and looked at his dear friend in wonder. He didn't know who you were, probably never even saw your face, but the fact that you somehow managed to charm Dazai was quite a feat. After all, Dazai rarely thought of anything or anyone interesting enough unless it challenged his mind. "I do. But I don't know why." Dazai admitted, his lips pulled into a soft frown as he stared at his still full glass. For some reason, he had lost interest in getting pleasantly buzzed with Odasaku. "There's nothing special about her nor am I interested in dance and yet.." Dazai trailed off for a second and sighed. You confused him, although you were so easy to read and figure out. The blush on your cheeks gave away that you liked having Dazai's attention, you were easy to please. "She's pretty. I guess I enjoy being near her."

If anyone else had told Oda about Dazai's encounter with a dancer, he probably would've thought of it as a joke, but hearing such words from Dazai himself changed the situation. He could tell the younger man meant what he said and wasn't only trying to woo you for as long as you'd please the executive. 

"Well? Is there any more to the story?" 

"I only watched her dance, Odasaku."

"That's it?" 

"That's it." Dazai confirmed with a tender nod of his head, brown locks going with the motion. 

Odasaku looked at the clock - 00:30. For once, he felt like Dazai might see something more in a person than mere profit for one of his plans and he was looking forward to the day that epiphany would reach his friend. Hopefully sooner than later. If someone like Dazai was interested in someone simple like you then you could positively influence the man who had experienced nothing but violence, death and bloodshed for a majority of his life. "You should go, then. It's painfully obvious you want to see her."

"Are you sure?" Dazai asked, eyebrows pulled up in slight surprise. It didn't happen too often that he got to talk to Odasaku so freely without any prying eyes and judgment whispered behind their backs. In this bar, they were only Dazai and Odasaku. Not an executive of the mafia and a mafia member with the possibly lowest rank in the organization. "Why wouldn't I be sure? I can handle going home alone just fine."

There was no point in trying to argue with Odasaku. The man was awfully perceptive and aware of those around him and would probably drag Dazai out of the bar if it was in Oda's nature to do such things. Besides, Odasaku was always correct, right? 

"Then I guess I'll see you around, Odasaku." Dazai wrapped his pitch black coat around his slender form and left with a gentle wave of his bandaged hand. Oda merely made a noise of acknowledgement. 

He knew that one positive influence couldn't fix the trauma that Dazai had gone through, but love made man better, right? Deep down, Odasaku hoped that you would leave some kind of impact on his misguided friend, hoped that at least you could show him a bit of the light Dazai was so severely lacking. 

He hoped that life would be kind to Dazai for once. 

This time, Dazai was greeted by orchestral instruments put over a simple, consistent beat. No vocals accompanied the song, only the repeated words "save me, save me" echoing throughout the very lonely and cold hall. Yet, your mere presence seemed to fill the theater just fine. 

He noticed you wore shoes unlike last night. Your dancing style was also slightly different. It lacked the element of ballet, yet he found himself watching you all the same. 

How you kicked your leg out to the side, wiped your lips and for a moment, it seemed like you were getting ready to run only to pretend to slip. Skillfully, your hands caught your body before you rested on your back, hand reaching up in the air as if begging someone to save you from misery. The notes gently faded into nothing and found their end. 

"And here I thought this was a one time meeting, Dazai." You teased from your position on the ground, rolled your body up into a sitting position and gave the man a teasing yet welcoming smile. A few strands of hair stuck to your face, some stood in weird directions, yet Dazai would still describe you as lovely. Sitting down on the chair he occupied the last time, Dazai returned the friendly teasing. "I like to make sure I see pretty things several times."

Damn smooth talker. Oh, how you'd love to wipe that cocky smirk off Dazai's stupidly handsome face. Damn him for making you blush so easily when his words weren't even that special. "Whatever you say." You dusted off your pants, let a few joints crack and tilted your head to the side as you took in Dazai's form. 

The cold had bitten his cheeks red, a trail of goosebumps between the bandages around his neck and his jawline revealed itself to your eyes, he was shivering ever so slightly despite the coat clinging to his body. You couldn't blame Dazai - it was probably -10 degrees Celsius outside, some snow had frozen and the theater wasn't known to get heated up at night. Truth be told, you had also been shivering when you came in, but then.. 

Suddenly, your eyes widened in curiosity. "You're cold aren't you?" Dazai nodded his head slightly, not quite knowing where you were going with this. Of course, he was cold. What kind of question was that? Going to the very edge of the stage, you offered Dazai your hand and grinned from ear to ear with that silly blush still on your cheeks. "May I ask for this dance, dear sir?" 

Warily, Dazai's gaze flickered from your palm to your face, his reaction hesitant. "Oh, belladonna, you do know that I'm not the dancer here, do you?" He just wasn't the type to dance, wasn't interested in the art either. Dazai only knew a few basic steps that Kouyou taught him years ago, but he barely ever had to use his non-existent dancing skills. "Aw, come on~" A cute pout adorned your lips as you tried persuading the mafia executive with puppy eyes and hopefully arguments that would convince him. "I'll teach you something really easy. I promise it'll be fun!" 

Dramatically, Dazai threw his head back and covered his eyes with his palm, his loud voice easily filling the vast space. "How did you know that your mere beauty was my weakness? Truly, my only weak spot is standing right in front of me! How could I say no to a beautiful lady such as yourself?" At his antics, you couldn't help but roll your eyes, grab Dazai's hands and pull him on the stage with you. You noticed how calloused his hands were and wondered what his profession was since the rest of him seemed nearly dreamy. The more you thought about it, the more you could feel a headache approaching, though. 

"First, off with that coat. You're gonna get warm real quick." Contrary to what your words implied, you took the coat off for Dazai and tossed the article of clothing in a corner where it wouldn't get in the way. Another thing Dazai learned about you was that you were touchy - not that he mined. He loved touchy, pretty ladies. But you..you nearly made his heart skip a beat with how eager you were to dance with him. "I didn't know you were so keen on getting me out of my clothes, belladonna."

Maybe the day you'd smack Dazai's face would come sooner than you thought. "Pfft, you wish, don't you?" Laughing, you shook your head a few times and picked your phone up from the ground to choose a song. What song would suit the situation or even Dazai's persona? He sure liked to joke around, yet his attire told you that he worked in a serious field. "I wouldn't mind~" Dazai spoke in a sing-song voice, hell bent on teasing your for whatever reason. However, it was part of his charm, you concluded for yourself. 

In the end, you settled for a song played by only a piano. The mood was neither too sad nor too upbeat - it was a perfect mix of a tinge of sadness and the beauty of emotional clarity. 

Dazai let you hold one of his hands while the other rested on your back, your free hand placed on his shoulder as you gave him instructions. "Take one step forward. Then I'll follow by taking a step backwards." His foot was quick to be placed between yours, chocolate eyes finding the two pairs of feet rather interesting. Dazai simply didn't want to step on your feet. Yet. "Good. Now one step to the right and a step backwards."

Dazai did as he was told and came back to center with you in his arms, leading him around the stage. Moving like this with the peaceful music in the background and your laughter right in his ear, some sort of warmth started spreading from Dazai's core and filled every fiber of his being with each step he took. Or maybe it was just the happiness swimming in your eyes. "See? It's not that hard. Do it again, but a bit faster." You encouraged the inexperienced brunette, grasping his hand tightly in yours. Dazai, on the other hand, felt oddly vulnerable as you lead him, taught him something he usually never used. It was a skill Dazai didn't possess, yet he found comfort in the fact that it was you taking the lead, dancing him through the steps his body had long since forgotten. 

As time passed, Dazai gained security and picked up the speed until you told him that this was the perfect pace. At some point, your palm slid down his chest, the man's own palm coming to rest in the dip of your waist. Neither of you seemed to notice nor to care. Possibly, Dazai even dared to pull you closer, although he knew he shouldn't. Getting attached was a dangerous game, especially in his case. If Mori was to find out who Dazai found himself gravitating toward, he'd lose you. If the enemy was to know of your existence, he'd lose you. 

Everything he'd never want to lose, would eventually slip through his fingers like water. 

But there you were, in the blood-stained hands of a mafia executive, a content smile on your face and your heart beating in sync with Dazai's. The act of dancing with you was pure, probably the most common and innocent thing he had ever done, yet Dazai felt like it was wrong. 

You were an angel, giving herself to the demon himself. 

Yet, why did it feel so right? 

"See? You're much warmer now." You beamed up at Dazai, eyes closed and he knew that this view would haunt him in his sleep. He should've stayed at the bar with Odasaku, drank a bit and then call it a night, but no, Dazai had to be selfish, greedy even, to come see you again when you were nothing but a stranger. Why the hell did you make him feel welcomed like he belonged right here with you? Dazai wasn't part of your blissfully mundane life and if you knew how many crimes he had committed, you'd let go of him like you had just burned yourself. And maybe, you actually would end up scorching yourself if you kept touching him, being near him. 

"Yeah. It's your hard work though." Despite the emotional conflict raging on in Dazai's heart, he returned the smile you gave him, but it never quite reached his eyes. If you noticed, you didn't bother asking which the brunette was thankful for. How was he supposed to explain something he didn't quite understand himself just yet? "I argue we both worked hard." You gave his hand a squeeze. A gentle reminder that you were indeed there and not anywhere else. 

Eventually, hours blurred into one another and Dazai was back in his seat with you sitting next to him, talking about the one time you thought your toaster was broken, but you only forgot to plug the device into the socket. You were silly and clumsy, too, Dazai learned. 

"Oh, time flies, huh.." You looked at the watch wrapped around your wrist and sighed, the hint of a frown settling down on your face. The time read 4:53 am, the sky was still pitch black - definitely a downside to winter. A groan of annoyance rumbled deep within your chest, your head leaned back and eyes closed shut as you voiced out your frustration. "Why can't time go by a bit slower? I was really enjoying myself, too. Being here with you is better than going home."

"Oh? How so?" Dazai didn't expect you to be so open about your way of living, considering that he had met you not too long ago. But he did hear about some people who overshare personal feelings and issues, so were you a part of those people? Or did your trust already run so deep? "You see, I live on my own and it just gets..very lonely. It's almost depressing when there's no one to greet you, nothing to take care of. Agh, I said too much didn't I?" Maybe this was why your friends sometimes told you to shut up at a certain point. You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly, chuckling. "It's okay, don't worry."

But maybe that piece of information was what caused Dazai to offer to walk you home even though you only lived a 8-minute-walk away from the theater. 

Or maybe it was the fact that the sun wouldn't rise until 8 am. 

Whatever reason it was, you felt less lonely when you stepped foot into your home. 

The meetings continued.

Dazai would occasionally pop up during your practice in the dead of night, after a drink with Odasaku or because he was simply straying throughout Yokohama's streets like a lost dog. You had quickly learned of Dazai's suicidal tendencies, even scolded him whenever the brunette enthusiastically told you about a new suicide technique he had read about. Usually, those around Dazai didn't care about that, because it was normal and he would always show up the next day in one piece, overdramatically devastated that he was still very much alive. 

"Why are you so worried about a stranger's life?" Dazai had asked with a teasing tone lingering on the edge of his voice. He didn't expect a serious answer, didn't expect a response which he couldn't decode right off the bat. "Then who would I be dancing for?" A tinge of blue had colored your words; the color of the ocean. Beautiful to look at, but so unbelievably deep that one could drown in them if they weren't careful. It had left Dazai a tad bit confused; apparently, you had danced just fine without him as well, so why were you so worried about something as trivial as an audience now? Nevertheless, he had smiled - it was a gentle one. 

"I'm sure you would find another audience."

"But none of them are you."

He had felt special and maybe it was delusional of him, but the more time Dazai spent with you, the more he wanted you for himself. No one else should hear your laugh for they might ruin the sound. No one else should be on the receiving end of your teasing for they might corrupt you. No one else should see you dance for Dazai liked to pretend that you only moved for him and his selfish eyes. 

But that was wishful thinking. Just like writers needed readers, just like musicians needed listeners, a dancer needed an audience to gain energy from, an audience to perform for. Dazai knew he couldn't remain your only crowd forever. 

The worst of it all that Dazai did get attached to you. Attached to your clumsiness when you tripped on stage and lied that it was part of the choreography. Attached to the way you'd grin from ear to ear once your eyes spotted him sitting in his usual seat. But most of all, he got attached to your kindness. You always offered him something to drink or some of your snacks, offered to distract him from whatever was bothering Dazai some nights.

You offered him some peace and quiet, physically, mentally and emotionally. 

However, the more time Dazai spent with you, the more his premonition proved to be true. 

You ended up haunting his dreams like a ghost and twisted them into nightmares that he often had, but it was even worse now that you had stepped into his life. It was your fault for ruining his already morbid nightmares by popping up in them out of the blue. Each time Dazai dreamed about shooting someone, your hand would hold his wrist to stop him. Each time he dreamed about a new suicide technique, you'd cry out his name in the ugliest way with tears streaming down your cheeks and a painful strain tearing your vocal chords. 

But this night was so much worse.

"Dazai, we need your help in our current interrogation. The prisoner won't spill, no matter what." A buff man in a suit and shades resting on his nose deadpanned. With a sigh, Dazai put both of his hands on his desk and got up from the comfortable chair, silently wondering if his men were capable of fulfilling a simple mission, at all. He didn't know the details, busy with his own case and trying to come up with a new way to finally get rid of this life he never wanted. 

Empty footsteps echoed right through the cold hallways of the mafia, no word was spoken, no breath could be heard. It was a heartless place which had witnessed the deaths of so many souls that it could be the equivalent of a graveyard. The amount of bloodshed was gross, but necessary in order for the mafia to survive. 

As the heavy door made of pure metal opened, Dazai's eyes widened. He would recognize the person anywhere, no matter how big the crowd was. Cautiously, he approached your shaking form and kneeled down in front of your broken body. Deep bruises in various shades ruined your skin, no doubt you were suffering from a couple of broken bones as well. Upon a closer look, Dazai could see that you definitely lost weight as well. 

Dead eyes met his own, the withering shimmer of recognition floated in your orbs before it rotted away. "Please, kill me, Dazai." Your voice was weak, hoarse from the lack of hydration and screams you let out as the men in black tried to get information out of you. "What the hell are you talking about?" Grabbing your shoulders, Dazai put you into a sitting position and let your chin rest on his shoulders. You were broken beyond repair and it was his fault that you got caught in this mess, in his mess.

"Everything hurts. I'm in nothing but pain, anymore. Please, I'm begging you to take my life." Tears streamed down your cheeks at the mere thought of leaving this world behind. Death terrified you, you didn't know if anything was waiting for you on the other side or if your existence would simply vanish like someone had pressed the delete button. "Don't be stupid, I can get you out of here, I can-" Dazai was rambling and it was the first time you saw him lose his composure. "It would be an honor to die by your hands, Osamu."

Somewhere deep down, Dazai knew he couldn't get you out of this alive. The mafia would kill you. You'd seen their faces, knew where these creatures of the night operated from. Too high was the possibility of you running to the government and spilling all that valuable information. 

Too high was the possibility of his men letting you die a painful death when Dazai could give you a fast, painless way out. 

"I'm sorry." Dazai whispered in your ear, his lips tickled the shell of it and you basked in the gentle feeling for a moment. It was a luxury you wouldn't get to experience, again. A wistful smile settled down on your lips, your eyes closed. You were at peace. "It's okay, Osamu. I'll watch over you from the other side. But for now, this is goodbye."

Dazai's hands shook as he placed the muzzle of his gun right against your chest where your heart was peacefully beating. Why did he have to kill the one person he was attached to? One of the very little good things he ever had in life would slip through his fingers, no matter how desperately he'd reach out for you. Dazai took a deep breath - a futile attempt to keep his composure - and pulled the trigger. 

You immediately went limp in his arms, blood staining the white dress you wore and his own clothes too. The executive dropped the gun, held your corpse tightly in his arms and buried his face in the crook of your neck. He was glad no one was there to see him cry and sob into your hair. No one would ever see the way he held you for an hour, the way he grew terrified of how your body temperature dropped. 

No one would ever see the pure feelings he had towards you. 

"Goodbye, [Name]."

Dazai woke up in a cold sweat, spine as straight as a candle while his mind was slowly realizing that this was nothing but a nightmare. A bad one, too. "Crap.." The executive rubbed the side of his head, his heart still pounding in his rib cage from the vision that had just haunted him. He hated how you tormented his mind and occupied it like it was your own pretty place. You should at least pay some rent.

Checking the time on his phone, the numbers 02:13 am greeted him. At that time, you were normally still practicing, pushing yourself past your limits until you were so worn out that all you could do was lie on the cool ground, panting. Dazai threw the blanket away a little harder than needed, grabbed a pair of pants and a button down shirt. He needed to make sure you were still alive, he seeked your presence. 

Maybe you could tend to the foreign panic he felt. 

A strong wave of relief and comfort washed over Dazai as he saw you on the stage and the song found its end. His heart no longer beat erratically in his chest, but gradually calmed down. Slumping down in his usual seat, Dazai realized one thing. 

He was scared of losing you. 

And judging by the way you stopped everything and ran off the stage to sit down right next to him, you were worried about him, too. Ah, how nice it was to feel your hand cup his cold cheek, the pad of your caressing the skin right underneath Dazai's eyes. He had grown used to your touchy-ness and right now, it was very welcomed. A confirmation that you were very much real and alive unlike in the nightmare you'd unknowingly put him through. 

"Everything okay?" Carefully, you asked as Dazai didn't mumble a single word and let himself being touched without much of a comment that served the mere purpose to make you blush. The suicidal brunette you grew fond of snapped out of whatever thought he was stuck in, his head whipping towards you. Worry was laced in your eyes and while Dazai definitely expected the devastating look you gave him, it pierced right through a sensitive spot of his. It was weird. 

"Do you think there's a difference between good and evil?" It was an unusually deep question which Dazai had never asked you before. Normally, he asked you for silly favors like choking him to death or using your high kick to break his neck. You blinked once, twice.

Then you realized that this was Dazai being in a vulnerable state. 

A heavy moment of silence filled the air around you and weighed heavily on your slim shoulders, words got stuck in your throat. School, family and society would say yes to that question, but the more you thought about it, the more you realized that maybe it was a matter of circumstances, interpretation and one's own morals. 

With a huff escaping your lips, you sat back in your seat and stared at the empty stage. The one you wanted to perform on with the hall being sold out, one day. "Maybe there isn't that much of a difference, depending on how you look at it," you started and caught Dazai's attention. He had long since figured that you were capable of thinking and feeling for your own, but he wasn't sure if he expected such a response from a citizen. "If two nations are at war and a man kills someone from the opposing country to protect someone close to him and the same happens vice versa, then who is good and who is evil?" Eyes fluttering shut, you tapped your temple with your index and middle finger, Dazai's own eyes always set on you. 

"Then there's also Yin and Yang. A bad seed lies in every good thing, a good seed lies in every bad thing," your gaze flew to the wall high above you, the dim lighting of the theater emphasized the tender structure of your jaw, the light in your eyes and the delicate curve of your neck. "So maybe good and bad are a curious mix of one another and aren't that different from one another."

Gradually, the light returned to Dazai's eyes and dipped them into the rich, chocolate brown color you liked so much. The curve on his lips was tender, the ghost of a smile but it was genuine and came from somewhere deep within his heart. You didn't know where this sudden, fond look came from, but you knew you never wanted it to disappear. "Do you have a camera with you?" Thrown off by his sudden question, you could only nod. "Uh yeah, why?" 

"I want to take a picture of us." Because he feared he might lose you for real. 

Without prodding any more, you dug around in your bag for the black device and came back with the camera in your hands, a smile on your face. "Well then, let's take a fancy picture." You positioned the camera on one of the empty seats. Dazai casually leaned his weight against the stage while you sat on the edge, feet dangling in the air and your arms wrapped around his shoulders to pull the man closer. A tranquil expression was on Dazai's face as you did so and said "cheese!".

The picture ended up in the pocket of his trench coat, reminding him that he had a bit of light in his life. 

Lady luck certainly wasn't on your side this snowy day since she thought it was really funny to let your tyre drive over some sharp shards of glass. Swerving ever so slightly, you pulled up at a parking lot at an unfamiliar restaurant which was close to the frozen pier. "At least I didn't strand in the middle of nowhere." You huffed and tightly wrapped a scarf around your neck until the warm fabric covered about half of your face. It was a short walk from your car to the restaurant, but there was no way in hell you'd let the cold sink deeper into your bones than necessary. 

Once the engine died down, you got out of your car and entered the small restaurant which was visited by only one man. Red hair, blue eyes and a pleasant voice as he chatted away with who you assumed was the cook and boss of this place. Tugging off your gloves, the scarf soon followed and was placed on the empty stool next to you; at least it was comfortable. 

"Excuse me?" You politely interrupted the conversation between the two men and caught their attention. "My car died and I wondered if I could use someone's phone to get it towed away." The chubby cook was quick to respond as he handed you his old Nokia which was safely stored in the back pocket of his jeans. You thanked the man, glad that someone was willing to help and called the nearest auto repair shop. Ultimately, you didn't have any tyres in your trunk since you rarely drove. Oh, what a stupid decision that was. 

After a small phone call and receiving the information that it would certainly take some time to get to your car, you decided to at least order some food and a glass of water. It was the least you could do after the owner was kind enough to lend you his phone for approximately five minutes. 

While you were obviously enjoying your food, Odasaku couldn't help but wonder how high the probability of meeting you was. 

At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him, but there you were, sitting a few stools away to keep a decent distance from the stranger who was Dazai's best and only friend. The description Dazai had given Oda was definitely more than accurate and not an exaggeration on his friend's part: the hair, eyes, height and way of dressing up matched Dazai's words all too well. Ah, what did the brunette say about you once? Right, it was like you demanded everyone's attention as soon as you stepped in the room, but in a very positive way. It was simply the aura you gave off. 

Odasaku had seen the picture, too. You were definitely the woman who had hugged Dazai in the picture, beaming into the lens like no one else was watching. 

"It's pretty cold, isn't it?" To Oda's surprise, it was you who actually struck up a conversation out of the blue. You wiped the small heap of snowflakes from your head, some of the melted snow had already dampened your hair and clothes. "You know Dazai, don't you?" Odasaku changed the topic, curious about what you thought of his dear friend, what your feelings were and if you had any concealed intentions. Admittedly, it was impudent of him to question your aim when Odasaku only knew you from words. 

Eyes wide, you blinked in slight confusion before it clicked. "Yes, I do. Are you..by any chance Odasaku?" You had heard about Dazai's friends from some of his stories that either included a bar named Lupin or his job which the brunette still hadn't revealed. Well, it wasn't like it was any of your business, anyway. "I see he has already talked about me, huh? Only good things, I hope." Oda pretty much deadpanned and you couldn't help the laugh bubbling in the back of your throat at how serious he sounded - just like Dazai said. "Of course I heard only good things about you! Don't worry about it."

In-between a quick introduction and a few bites of the pasta you had ordered, you heard the question:"What do you think about Dazai?" Warmth was quick to dip the apple of your cheeks in a reddish color as your brain thought of an appropriate answer and how far you could go. Sure, this man was Dazai's best friend, but in the end, Odasaku was still a stranger to you. "What I think of him?" You repeated more to yourself than to Oda and suddenly got..shy. Odasaku nodded wordlessly. 

"Dazai is an interesting person. It's hard to tell what he's thinking or feeling, yet being with him is fairly easy. Strikes me as someone who's definitely popular with the ladies and knows it, but he seems like a good guy, regardless. Pretty funny, too." For a moment your pursed your lips, fork poking around in your beloved pasta as you possibly shared too much, yet again. "I really like him, I guess.." Oda found no lie in your body language, in the way you talked or reacted when he asked you about the suicidal brunette. However, maybe you liked the mafia executive more than you realized or wanted to admit, Oda silently thought to himself. 

"I might be sticking my nose into things where it's not wanted, but you definitely caught Dazai's interest." Oda paid for his own food, the cook mumbling something about him not having to do it, but accepting the money, nevertheless. "Huh?" Did your ears betray you or did Dazai's best friend, the infamous Odasaku who the younger man looked up to so much, tell you that Dazai was indeed intrigued? Maybe, you should get your ears checked, soon. Just to be sure.

"If you weren't interesting, Dazai wouldn't visit you. He's not much of a dancer and even less interested in it. But you seem to have caught him in a way."

With those words being said, Odasaku bid his farewell to the cook and you who was still processing his words and contemplating how much weight to give that revelation. Sure, Dazai had told you several days ago that he wasn't a dancer, but you couldn't really figure out why he insisted on still visiting you. 

For the rest of the day, your heart beat a little bit faster than it was supposed to and this time, you were aware of the reason why. 

Your encounter with Oda should've kept your spirits high, but that wasn't the case unfortunately. This night was void of any stars, thick, dark clouds even hid the moon that was usually watching you akin to a certain brunette. 

But just like the moon, he didn't show up. 

As always, just like every night, you stretched and practiced in the empty theater. The more time progressed, the more you seemed to mess up and feed into your own disappointment which quickly turned into impatience mixed with frustration. It seemed like your legs had a mind of their own and refused to listen to you while your muscles were getting sore from the strenuous training you forced them through. 

You kept tripping over your own feet, painfully fell to your knees and sometimes managed to cushion the fall by dropping on your arms rather than your ribs. The soles of your feet ached, screaming at you to rest while a stifling soreness stretched itself throughout your muscles. But no, you couldn't stop. Not yet. Not when you were so close to perfecting the choreography, not when you were so close to feeling satisfied with the outcome. All you needed was more practice.

Sweat drenched your shirt and made your feet stick to the wooden floor in a disgusting way. But it would be worth it. The pain would pain off. You hoped. 

Stretching your arm out, you felt the pain in your shoulder, but you gave it your all nevertheless. As soon as you stood on one leg, the limb gave out below you and ruthlessly let another bruise bloom on your kneecaps. Red, blue, purple, green and yellow stained your knees. A pained groan strained your throat as you picked yourself back up again, palms red from the amount of times you had done so. It was a painful process, but you needed it. Feeling that pain was so much better than feeling the distress of the impending death as a dancer, again. 

Why couldn't you get that one move right? It was supposed to be easy and yet, you always failed over and over again. "Fuck.." You cussed underneath your heavy breath and wiped a few tears away. This was no time to cry over trivial things. The only reason why you picked up dancing again was to feel something. You had already died once and gosh was that painful. Oh, how you vowed to never die, again. 

Once more. Taking a deep breath to keep your composure under control, you kept your arms straight by your side and put your weight on your dominant leg. You were in the middle of pivoting with your chest nearly touching your upper thighs when you lost your balance and fell to your knees and elbows. This time, tears flowed, the music kept going without you. 

"To hell with it!" You yelled, threw your shoes against the wall in anger, frustration even and slid down the length of the wall. Heavy sobs rocked your body and you forgot that the vast space left an ugly echo of the disappointment you let out freely. At least, you were alone with no one to see you in such a weak moment. No one would see your tears and attempt to wipe them away. No one would tell you to cheer up and whisper sweet encouragements into your ear. 

All you needed was to let it out. 

It took you a while to calm down and find the bathroom of the theater. As you looked into the mirror, you were met with bloodshot eyes, messy hair and sticky clothes. Gazing downwards, you saw just how red your palms were and spotted a few cuts from mean splinters. Worn out, you rolled up the sleeves of your shirt and cringed at your bloody elbows, the red liquid was nearly dry and crusted around more severe bits. Just what you needed, really. 

A sigh slipped your dry lips as cold water hit your hands, the temperature somewhat soothed the ache and calmed you down until you saw how the water turned red. "No, no, no, no!" You called out, eyes brimming with new tears you didn't know you still possessed as you scrubbed your hands, forearms and elbows furiously. The minor wounds reopened, causing fresh blood to leak from the broken skin and stain the sink in an hideous crimson. 

That night, you scrubbed until it hurt. 

No song resonated with you. 

A few nights had passed when Dazai stepped foot into the theater once again and was welcomed by the sophisticated shadow your silhouette painted on the vast wall like the finest of paintings. Compared to the shadow, you were so bright and oh-so-short. He liked the contrast. 

Silently to not disturb the flow you seemed to be in, Dazai took his seat as always and let his eyes drink in of the passionate smooth image that was you. The executive wondered just how much strength you had to possess in order to quickly switch from sleek moves to sharp ones that made your legs and chest pop. He wondered how many restless nights you had spent dancing in your room, on your own with no one to watch. He wondered why you still danced, although it seemed to be such an exhausting process. 

All these questions were answered as Dazai merely watched you. The way you got lost in the lovely melody of the piano which was akin to a day in spring and spun on stage with your hands resting right above your heart, a happy grin on your face - that was the answer. Dance was something you were good at and found joy in.

Dazai was drawn to the way your shoes squeaked against the wooden floor, how your ripped jeans hugged your legs and the adorably oversized sweater. Everything was so you that Dazai found familiarity in your presence, peace and a bit of warmth which every human so selfishly craved for. 

"It's good to see you, again." You squatted on the stage, arms hugging your shins closer to your body and as the holes in your jeans stretched, Dazai immediately noticed the nasty bruises on your knees. Seeing these stains for the first time, he wondered how hard how hard you had pushed yourself to look like you had fallen into a bucket of paint. How often had you fallen and still continued although it hurt? No doubt that the bruises still hurt at this moment, but when Dazai's eyes fell on your face, he saw nothing of the hell you had put yourself through. The smile on your reddish lips was tender, your eyes twinkled in the dim lighting and you welcomed him like he was your dear friend. 

You never complained about the bruises on your knees. 

"This sounds like you missed me, [Name]." In all honesty, a small, soft part within the brunette hoped you had missed him just like you had occupied his thoughts during his own work. For once, Dazai wanted to be missed by you, even though he had been gone for less five days. Your legs dangled off the edge of the stage, palms behind your back and supporting your weight as you nodded your head slightly. "Honestly? I did. It's not the same when you're absent, Dazai."

The mafia executive came to stand between your legs, bandaged hands resting on your hips and your doe eyes looking up at him in anticipation. His heart was so easily swayed by you and lord punish him if he would ever do anything to hurt you. "You meant what you said, didn't you? About not being able to find another audience." Ah, how were you supposed to respond? This was the first time Dazai got so close to you, touched you and it felt oddly intimate how he spoke, how he looked at you. Your heart pounded in your ribcage. "I always mean what I say, Osamu. None of them would be you." 

Dazai was nearly cautious when he tucked a few strands of your hair behind your ear as if you were to break if he was too rough with you. He so badly wanted to deny himself of you, of your presence and the mere thought of you, but humans were sinful beings who always wanted the one thing they could break, taint and corrupt. When had you made Dazai so weak for you? A foreign emotion which Dazai experienced for the possibly very first time in his lonely life and he didn't want to let go of it. Rather, he wanted to protect and treasure it in fear it'd break. But what if Dazai himself was the one to shatter whatever was going on between you and him? 

Unconsciously, Dazai cupped your cheek in his hand and caressed the skin underneath your eye - much like you had done when the man had searched for you after the nightmare he surely wouldn't forget so easily. Maybe, Dazai wanted to caress all your bruises and wounds away. "Really? I reckon you'd find an audience of much greater size." His voice was barely above a whisper while you leaned into his touch, blushing. Slender fingers tugged on Dazai's tie until the tip of your nose poked his own, your warm breath fanning over his cheeks. "If I could choose between a crowd and you, I'd always choose you, Osamu."

Dazai's lips hesitantly brushed over yours, it was like the touch of a ghost to see how you'd react and you never shied away. Instead, you took matters into your own hands and pressed your lips to Dazai's, gently at first. 

After getting over his initial shock, the executive let his eyes flutter shut while his hand now cupped the nape of your neck, thumb still on your cheek as Dazai let his lips melt into yours. It was a sweet kiss shared between two people who weren't familiar with the concept of loving someone else, but the act felt so awfully right; like one had finally found a long lost piece of a puzzle and could finally finish the picture. 

You smiled once the kiss was broken, but Dazai was quick to chase your lips and engage you in another lip lock. This time, it was firm and you let your lips melt into Dazai's with your palms on his chest to feel his heartbeat. Ah, it was just starting to calm down, you noted and smiled into the innocent kiss. 

You felt warm all over. 

"Let me watch you dance one more time."

Your response came in the form of a simple nod. 

And so, Dazai sat on down on the stage and watched you spin or fall into a half-split to your heart's content. He had no interest in dance, but he was interested in you. 

Hopefully, he would get the chance to see you during the day, as well. 

But that wish wouldn't be granted until four years later, because Odasaku died.

Spring rolled around and cherry blossoms bloomed throughout the lively streets of Yokohama. Children's laughter filled the playgrounds with some much needed life, the sun smiled down at the city while the salty breeze of the shore cooled everyone down once in a while.

But the most important thing: The agency was as energetic as ever with Kunikida scolding Dazai for having tried to woo the waitress at Uzumaki's in an inappropriate manner. Something about needing her hands around his neck or something like that. Atsushi watched his superiors in shock and mild confusion as the scene continued. "Ah, right, I can't waste any more time on you. A client is on the way." The blonde detective brushed his palms off on his pants as though Dazai had dirtied them just by breathing. 

"Whaaat? But that means more work and even more reports!" Dazai complained and dramatically palmed his face, head leaned back to the ceiling as he dreaded the new amount of work a new client brought. Despite the brunette's constant complaints, Dazai still finished whatever was expected of him; it was Odasaku's wish he was currently living. "Quit complaining and make yourself look acceptable. You look like you just got choked." Kunikida scolded after having choked Dazai himself. 

The opening of a door went unheard as the two detectives kept arguing back and forth and was only interrupted by Atsushi greeting the client as politely as he could. He was told not to ruin the Agency's name and Atsushi was sure that Kunikida would drag him through hell and back himself if he was to mess up. "Welcome! You must be Ms. [Name], right?" Atsushi hoped you'd ignore the mess happening in the background. 

"Exactly. There's an issue and.." Gradually, you trailed off as you raised your gaze, let yourself take in the office until they landed on him. The man you thought had died due to his suicidal tendencies stood right in front of you among his colleagues. The man you had grown so deeply attached to was very much alive and still looked the same, though he had grown and matured a bit. Overall, his entire energy seemed to be a tad bit brighter. 

Your muscles froze, hands shaking as your eyes widened and silent tears rolled down your cheeks. Dazai seemed just as shocked; his gaze was deeply locked with your teary one as he too recognized you. How couldn't he recognize you? You were the first person to soothe the pain he felt even if it was only for a couple of hours. Dazai still carried the picture around. 

"U-uhm.." Atsushi was about to ask what was going on, but Kunikida stopped the rookie by putting a hand on his shoulder and leading him away from the scene. Kunikida didn't know the deal between Dazai and you, but he did know that you two obviously needed to talk about it without anyone interrupting. "Don't. You can ask him later."

"It's you Osamu, isn't it?" Hastily, you wiped your tears away once the shock wore off. How often did you wait for Dazai to come through the doors of the theater with an unreadable expression on his face? How often had you simply sat in the vast hall with Sensei in your lap instead of dancing? How often had you cried thinking that Dazai succeeded in taking his own life? "It's been a while, hasn't it, [Name]?" Dazai's expression softened upon seeing you again, although he was also scared. He never thought anyone from his past would see him ever again, and yet there you were. 

"Would you let me explain?" 

You should be angry at Dazai for leaving you behind just like that, but a bigger part of you was so relieved to see the brunette still breathing, standing in front of you with that same damn look lingering in the depths of his eyes. "You'd better." Dazai offered you his hand to take, hoping to take some of your anxiety and maybe some of his own fears, too. 

Luckily, Dazai found out you were still dancing. 

That night, he watched you once again and never stopped watching you.

[cecilspeaks]

174 - Radio Jupiter

This is Radio Jupiter calling out to all who hear. Please respond. Awaiting your reply.

[different theme song]

This is Radio Jupiter. I’m not sure who is listening. I’m not sure if there’s anyone to listen. I can only verify my own existence. I can only verify the void around me, the apparent fact of stars, the swirling atmosphere of the planet below me. I cannot verify much. I don’t know who I am or where I came from. I woke up here, and all I have to go on is my call sign. So this is Radio Jupiter, reaching out to whoever there is to be reached out to.

It is so beautiful here on my perch, here in my place, in the cosmos and the universe about which I know nothing but feel everything. I don’t know if everywhere is as beautiful, or even most places. Did I happen onto the one beautiful place in the all of it? Without perspective, there is only what is nearby. Without the burden of comparison, everything is beautiful.

If a person is the sum total of every experience they’ve ever had, is a person without memories still a person? Or are they a different creature altogether, made either limited or limitless by the possibilities of a clean slate? I am either trapped or I am more free than anyone who can hear this. If anyone can hear this.

There is a framed photo in this room. It is an elderly woman. Maybe my mother or my grandmother or an aunt. Perhaps merely a photo I saw in a magazine once and liked for whatever reason. I have no way of knowing what kind of person I am, what kind of photo I would keep. Perhaps it is a photo of you. Do you present as an elderly woman? Would you like to? I think perhaps I would like to, even for just a little while. But I only am what I only am, I ever am, whatever I am.

[distortion] This is Radio Jupiter calling all cars, all (species), all… [fades out]

Cecil: Is that any better? Is that better? Can you hear me? [clears throat] OK, my producer is giving me the signal that we are now back on the air. Sorry about that, not sure what that other signal was, but it completely took over ours, which is rude. We’re currently looking for the source of the signal. We’ve narrowed it down to up. Just right up there somewhere, beaming on down to us. But we’re back in control and we do not expect any more interruptions. Of course, we didn’t expect that interruption either. I don’t expect almost anything that happens to me, my life is full of mystery and surprise, as is yours I’m sure, but still, we seem to have this one technical issue addressed. With that settled, I think we can get to the news.  

Our top story concerns… [reluctantly] Susan Willman. OK. Sure. There has been a lot of talk in town since the whole incident with the Obelisk, in which Susan Willman learned the name of an immortal all knowing being. This name now exist in her head, an object of great power reverberating through her thoughts. She has withdrawn from her duties as director of the Night Vale Community Theater and the Night Vale PTA. Oh darn, we’ll miss her and her prosaic, muddled staging and grandstanding about home-work life balance.

Susan has instead taken residence in a booth at the Moonlite All-Nite Diner. There at all hours, toying with a half drunk coffee and playing with the reflection of the sun in the back of a spoon. At night, the mint light of the sign outside sends strange shadows across her face, and her friends say they sometimes don’t recognize her at all. Steve Carlsberg, who is taking over her role at the Night Vale Community Theater, went to talk to her about some finer details of the casting process, and said that she was less than helpful. She was weeping, and the only thing she said the entire time he was there was that she was afraid to speak, lest the awful name slip past her lips. “No one was meant to carry such death inside of them,” she whispered, and then said no more. “Oh sure, yeah yeah, makes total sense,” said Steve, as he (-) [06:51] down some invisible pie. Well, I think we’ve given Susan enough attention for now, moving on.

In other news, the new beer cave at the Ralphs has been closed for repairs due to occasional time loop issues reported by certain customers. Manager at the Ralphs, Dave Ball, issued a statement by spelling out words with cantaloupes in the parking lot, saying “everything is fine with the beer cave, it’s a great and refreshing addition to Night Vale. Please don’t go inside or even look at it, as we don’t know why it’s doing what it’s doing. Everything is fine, please stay safe and stay away.” Dave then rearranged the cantaloupes to create complex fractal designs that made me dizzy to gaze upon, but were beautiful nonetheless. When reached out for a comment, Ralphs corporate said they had no records of any branch in a town called Night Vale, and were tired of receiving prank calls with bizarre tales about a made up store. When provided with pictoral evidence of Night Vale, a representative at Ralphs corporate began to bleed form the eyes while shouting: “This can’t be real! My god, this can’t be real!” More on the story of the beer cave if anything happens [distortion, fades out]…

Agent N-223: [--] out there, out there? Not sure if any of this is getting thru, but continuing to narrate on the off chance anyone will hear this and come, you know, to collect me. I’ve been doing some digging through the spaceship, and I’m disturbed by what I’ve found. Weapons. Many, many weapons. Racks of guns, cases of grenades and explosives, radar that I instinctively know is for tracking combatant space crafts, even though I have no memory of receiving that training. I am armed to the teeth and ready to wage war. But on what? There are no living beings in sight, and for all I know, there are no other living beings anywhere. Perhaps I’m here to wage war upon the planet below me, that swirling gaseous titan. Maybe someone had enough of it and sent me up here to put Jupiter back in its place. If so, I think the weapons they gave me were insufficient. I experimented by shooting off a round or two out the airlock, but the bullets soared into the upper atmosphere of the planet without slowing at all. My attack had no appreciable effect on my victim. So maybe the planet is not my target. Could it be the stars themselves? I am sent here, a pinprick in the side of God to cast myself as the stars, shouting threats and tossing grenades until the entire (-) [09:42] of the universe cowers and surrenders. Perhaps that.

Or perhaps I am at war with you, whoever is hearing this. Maybe I was given this radio in order to threaten and terrorize before I attack. So be afraid, I am coming. O-once I figure out where you are. I have no idea which direction to start moving and I don’t even know if this space ship has any way of controlling movement or if I’m just stuck in this orbit. Either way, this is Radio Jupiter apparently declaring war. [distortion] Consider it declared and [fades out].

Cecil: Can you hear, they can hear me? OK, I apologize, we’ve been doing all kinds of troubleshooting, including shifting the angle of our broadcasting tower, updating all of our software, and yes before you ask, we did try unplugging it, doing a ritual spilling of blood and plugging it back in. The issue we’re having is that these broadcasts are being sent out on military frequencies, which unfortunately automatically override ours. I’m unclear why the military would be getting into broadcasting, that’s more of a community radio thing, so let’s all stick to what we’re good at. I’ll keep doing radio shows that inform and delight, and the military can spend three trillion dollars on a plane that instantly explodes if anyone tries to fly it.

We have reached out to Rudy DeJardin, the local representative of the military industrial complex. He has a little table set up outside of the hardware shop, and anyone who has any questions for the military can just ask him, and he’ll do his best to answer. Most of the stuff can’t answer because it’s classified or embarrassing, but sometimes he’ll say a few cryptic words. In this case, his only answer was to make “mm-hm” sounds and shake his head frantically, while rolling his eyes toward the heavens. Not clear what to make of that, but I sure love whatever this broadcast is off my frequency, Rudy. Any time you want to get on that.

And now a word from our sponsors. Today’s show is brought to you by Nature’s Caress Fountain of Youth gentle flushable wipes. Did you know in most of the world, they just wash after using the toilet? They have a whole thing specifically for doing that. It takes a couple of seconds, cleans thoroughly, and doesn’t create mountains of paper waste. If you dirty your hands, do you wipe at them frantically with an even less robust version of tissues, or do you use water and soap? Why would it be different for anything else? Because it just is, that’s why. It’s the American way, love it or leave it. Nature’s Caress Fountain of Youth gentle flushable wipes: clog the world with your debris. This has been a word from our sponsors.

And now, as a special treat, Mr. Lee Marvin himself will perform act 3 scene 5 of Shakespeare’s classic tragedy “Invasion of the Body Snatchers”. This is the scene that contains the immortal line “I never knew the meaning of fear until I kissed Becky.” [distortion] OK, Mr. Marvin, take it away!

Agent N-223: This is Radio Jupiter speaking to you from a time of peace. Yes, there was that brief episode of war, and it was regrettable. I fired upon an innocent planet, although that planet seems none the worse for my crimes. In any case, that war is now over, as far as I’m concerned. I have no interest in battles and conflict, especially when I have no memory of what that conflict could involve. I have no interest in killing anyone, and I have no interest in dying quite yet.

So, peace in our time. I’m jettisoning all the guns and other weapons. Let them scatter out harmlessly into the universe, most of them swirling down the gravity well of Jupiter, where the immense pressure of the inner atmosphere will compress them into diamonds. I don’t know if that idea is scientifically sound, but I like the thought of it. All these worthless guns made glittering jewels, swirling in the endless storm of a planet that doesn’t even know they’re there.

As for me, now that I’ve declared peace upon the galaxy, I would like to know what is out there. I have found the controls for the ship and it seems I must have been trained in their use, because whatever I do appears to work as I want it to. I am turning away from the only star I’ve ever known. Because my memory is short and it’s the only star that has been there for the last two hours. I’m turning out to the dark unknown, and I’m casting myself into it. I hope there is a grander universe out there, I’d love to see it. This is Radio Jupiter, letting the cosmos know that I am on my way. I’ll see you soon. Or, given the size of space, most likely I won��t see you. But we’ll both exist, and [distortion] won’t that be nice?

Cecil: [clapping] Wow, wow wow wow. Thank you, Mr. Marvin, truly a performance for the ages, and what a treat… What? What happened? When? Oh not again!

This is Cecil Palmer of the Night Vale community radio station. I don’t know if you can hear these words, but if you can, we have identified the source of these intrusive broadcasts. She is agent N-223, sent during the early years of the space program on a secret mission. She was put into hibernation so that she could wake up and serve as reinforcement in the Blood Space War at some point in the future. But it appears that the hibernation damaged her memory, and anyway the Blood Space War doesn’t happen for another thousands years, so eh, she won’t be much use in that battle yet. Ah, thanks to the anonymous tipster who snuck us this top secret info. We owe you, Rudy.

Oh, uh it looks like we might be having more interference due to some Rough weather.

[“The Faded Red and Blue” by David Berkeley http://davidberkeley.com/]

Agent N-223: This is Radio Jupiter on the tail end of the tail end. If there was anyone listening back near that star, I think I’m getting out of range. I feel you getting out of range. Whatever presence I felt that I was speaking to, that feeling is getting hushed and fuzzy. The way I’m sure my voice is for you now.

You’re gonna have to go on without me, I suppose. Be brave about it. Or be scared. Your feelings are not my problem anymore, if they ever were. I have new problems now, problems of void and cosmos, problems of dark matter and lost memories. I am adrift in a universe that does not know I exist, but then you are too. I don’t know what is out there, but I hope I live to see it. Won’t that be something, if I get to see whatever happens next? I hope I do.

Well, this is Radio Jupiter signing off for the last time. [echoing] Stay safe out there, I’ll try to stay safe out here. Goodbye.

Cecil: The signal has faded out. It seems she has finally left our world and also left my radio frequency. I’m not trying to speak badly of a strange remnant of a war that has not yet happened, floating out into the nothing beyond the nothing, but come on, please, use a different frequency. It’s just rude. The military, through Rudy DeJardin has disavowed any knowledge of Agent N-223 or her mission. “Nope,” Rudy said through clenched teeth, “Never heard of her. Iiii certainly wouldn’t just say her name on the radio, after being asked not to. That’s not something I would do Cecil,” he said. So I dunno. Maybe we got the story wrong.

It is something, isn’t it? We are bits of life floating in a whole lot of non-life. The fact is true for us in both space and time, we are brief on any measure. And yet we can reach out our voice and be heard, even if only for a moment. And that has to mean something, doesn’t it? Doesn’t… it?

Stay tuned next for an angry buzzing from inside your cutlery drawer, but you’ll be too afraid to open it and find out its source.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Diamonds are a girl’s best friend. Agate is a girl’s worst enemy. Emerald is a work acquaintance who a girl hung out with once and then it just – never turned into anything more.

[rantsandeepthoughts]

Being taken advantage of

Being taken advantage of - comes in many different forms.

I won't list all of them, I just wanted to list the one that is making me so so furious right now.

Since childhood, I've had to become responsible. It all began with my parents having more children than they can afford, more children than they can manage. So I became a parent before I even turned 10.

It all begins quite minor enough. Help with this, help with that, always always having to help. And always having to help myself. Because no one would help me. Not really. And it all starts small.

It builds up to a point that by the time I turned 13, the basic chores like laundry and especially ironing were all on me. No wait... I did all the ironing at 10 years old. I can't remember when exactly the rest all started. When exactly it all began loading up onto my shoulders. But they did.

I remember being depressed when I was 14, trying to fit in with friends at school, but never being able to because of the tyrannical rules. I had to lie, and lie a lot I did, just so I could be normal, and spend some time with my friends after school.

Throughout, the loading of responsibilities, chores, errands and what not gradually built up.

By the time I was 17, I was fully self-dependent. I worked for my own lunch money, my fees were covered by organizations, obviously, financial assistance schemes were a breeze to get with only 1 income from my father and way too many children to divide it by.

I'm missing the whole point.

The whole point of which. Responsibility has more or less been ingrained in me. Some things you learn the hard way, and this is one of them. It's been ingrained through sheer pressure, fear and force that now - that I'm much much older and very much an adult. I cannot switch this off.

Obeying orders and simply taking responsibility and taking ownership of various tasks that I know needs to be done because I have foresight and initiative - both of which I had to learn the hard way, for when I was a child, when I lacked initiative or such things, I would be punished and screamed at harshly. Abuse not just verbally, but many times also physically, psychologically. everything.

You learn to avoid being hurt. You learn to predict, you learn to do before being told, you learn all the little things, all the ticks, all the nuances. In all that, you gain initiative too. But you also gain the inability to say 'no'.

You gain the inability to stand up for yourself. You lack confidence and self-esteem despite being able to perform well and beyond, because, when you've done well in the past it was never enough. Because perfection was the only thing accepted. And there was no way you could be perfect.

Even now, there's no way a person could be perfect. and yet, Perfection is what has always been demanded.

So if you do a task, and you were scored 80/100. It would still feel like I failed.

I digressed again.

Responsibility. Some years back, being taken advantage of was something that always happened to me. And I did not even realise it. My parents throughly took advantage of my maturity, wisdom and high level of responsibility and raised their expectations to a ridiculous degree. I became the parent to my siblings. I became the go-between, messenger, peace-keeper between my parents. I became the errand girl for all the tasks and errands for my relatives because my mother offered me - she volunteered me - without my consult. Because I was never allowed to say 'no', and I never learned how to.

I fell into depression again. Oh mind you, me, depressed, I still had to get up and work and do all the shit. I was just a zombie on auto-pilot, eternally exhausted, and nothing made me happy. I was depressed. Maybe a bit suicidal - but that's another pandoras box to unpackage.

Not that anyone cared I was depressed. They likely never noticed. Because I was always the "Good and Quiet" one who knew how to be "completely obedient".

So all those years, more than a decade, two decades I suppose... or more. I was completely taken advantage of. And I did not even know it.

I was just miserable. so so miserable, I wished I never woke up. I wondered, If i fell of from a high floor, maybe I'd suddenly discover I could fly, develop a super power, to save myself. I wondered if maybe a superhero would come and save me.

I developed certain unhealthy addictions to cope. Addictions that I still struggle with today, though I'm glad they're not as bad as they were.

and most importantly, I feel.

I somehow, managed, to save myself.

I thank my friend, who urged and encouraged me to further my studies. (I had stopped the moment I had the lowest possible certificate to work, and worked). So I decided, I had to go, study further. Like what all my friends had already done. All of them, didn't have to worry about money. I did.

I worked for years. I lived like a pauper, while paying for all the things for the household that my parents couldnt or wouldnt because well (they're horrible examples of adults. let alone 'parents') saved up. and I decided to study Psychology. Of course, nobody understood why I wanted to. Even I myself, did not quite understand why I wanted to.

To understand - was definitely a driving factor. Just, to understand. What exactly I didn't know. But I knew, somewhere in my mind, that all this wasn't right.

Studying Psychology, saved me. Having access to the free psych clinic on campus saved me more. (I thank my course mate, who told me about it, and encouraged me to go for counseling as she was going to.)

I learned so much. Invaluable. Priceless. Lessons that would help me, lifelong.

I also learned that, I was being taken advantage of. Amongst many other things. I learned that I could say 'no'. Actually saying 'no' took years of practice. But I'm more able to say 'no' now, than I was when this self-awareness journey started.

So now. When I am being taken advantage of - yes, it still happens. One simply does not so simply escape 3 decades++ of abuse and malicious conditioning just like that -snapsnap-. It takes a long time.

However long you were abused and hurt, that is however long you need to heal. This is what I tell myself, because I will be kind to myself, and not stress over the fact that healing is taking a long time.

There are various other factors like the whole financial shit show.

So now.

NOW. when I get taken advantage of. I come here and rant. because I'm angry. I'm angry that this sense of 'take it upon myself' is so ingrained, I still do it like on auto-pilot, and I only realise belatedly that 'hey, why am I doing this? that person should be the one doing it!' - but it's belated so yeah. I get angry. I get angry at everything and everyone, then i get angry at myself, then i get angry at the monster and demons that caused this conditioning in my mind to happen. Then I reel back and breathe, and understand that just stewing in anger isn't healthy for me. I understand that I need an outlet.

I come here and rant, because, friends cannot always be your outlet. There is only so much you can rant and pour out to your friends before they too cannot take it anymore.

So I come here. On anonymous platforms where I am safe. Where I can say whatever I want to say, with no repercussions, as no one knows who I am. (A hacker could find out my email but heh. whatever).

I come here, and I let the anger, and the sadness, and the self-pity, and the words all come out. here.

There it is. It's all out now. I can breathe a bit more easy.

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

Your Hand In Mine ~ Bucky x Reader Oneshot (Request)

A/n: Hi my lovelies! Happy weekend, I hope everyone is doing alright and staying healthy. So I received this request I think like two days after I announced my hiatus and it’s been sitting in my inbox since then. But it’s also been percolating in my brain since then and I’m finally happy with how it turned out.  I hope you will enjoy it too. 

Thanks for the request @ashhys-lost-in-fanfics-again​

Request:  Hi! I love your writing! I have a Bucky x Reader idea, iydm. R's a powerful Avenger. She has a RIGHT(important it's her right) metal arm. It's rose gold when it's not covered by her skin graft. Bucky is being teased by team&gets upset. He yells no one understands how hard the burden is and storms off. R goes after him to comfort, he turns on her, asking how she'd know? She gently disables her skin graft&shows her rose gold metal arm. Fluff & Angst please!

Characters/Pairings: Bucky x reader, Sam, Steve, Clint, Nat and Tony are mentioned. 

Rating: T 

WARNINGS: Trauma, loss of limb, mild language, angst, but there’s a lot of fluff too! 

Disclaimer: My medical knowledge is limited to what I could glean from google so if there’s anything that doesn’t make sense I apologize. 

Word Count: 4230

Bucky grunted as he attempted to reach the knot that had formed in his shoulder blade but no matter which way he twisted or turned he couldn’t get the right pressure. He gave up on using his flesh arm and went in search of a tennis ball or even better a softball.

After finally locating one in the equipment closet, Bucky found the nearest wall and set to work maneuvering the ball into position. He had just found the right spot when you and Sam entered the gym, chattering happily about the movie you’d seen the night before.

Your animated tone made Bucky smile.

“Morning, Bucky,” you greeted him cheerfully.

“Morning, y/n.”

“Turning into a cat, Barnes?” Sam called when he spotted him shimmying his back against the wall.

“Can it, birdbrain,” Bucky snapped, smile falling.

Grumbling about being interrupted when he’d finally started feeling relief, he pulled off the wall and pocketed the ball before storming out of the gym.

“Sam,” you sighed as you dropped your bag and began stretching.

“Don’t ‘Sam’ me. Last week he disconnected his arm enough that I yanked it off and hit myself in the face when he helped me up. It’s fair game.”

“I suppose.”  

Bucky gave as good as he got, and you all knew neither of them meant anything by it. But today you could see he was in pain, but mostly he was frustrated.

“You can’t treat him with kid gloves,” Sam stated firmly.  

“I know. And I don’t think we should, but this is more than him being grumpy. He’s in real pain.”

“Maybe you’re right. I’ll lay off until he settles down a bit.”

“Thank you.”

The two of you started stretching.

“You know, if you’re really worried about him being sore, you could always offer to give him a massage,” Sam smirked and waggled his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes before you actually considered at.

“Actually. That’s not a bad idea.”

His eyes widened as he froze.

“Wait. You’re really going to offer to give Barnes a massage.”

“Not exactly. But I think I have something that could help.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll tell you later. After I kick your ass.”

“Oh you are on.”

After a full morning of sparring with Sam and then a round of weight training with Steve you were more than a little sore. You settled yourself in the living room post shower with your foam roller and your trigger point massager.

“How was your workout?” Bucky asked as he closed his book, watching you roll back and forth to relax your quad.

“It was good. I think Steve is trying to make sure I can bench press him soon.”  

“I’d pay money to see that.”

You huffed out a laugh which quickly turned into a groan when you started rolling out your other leg.

“It would be pretty hilarious,” you agreed wincing slightly when your shoulder twinged. “I’m not far off. I’m at 220 now.”

“Pretty impressive considering you started lifting like a month ago.”

“Started lifting again,” you corrected him. “I used to lift when I was in the marines.”

“I didn’t know you served.”

“Marine corporal y/n y/l/n at your service.”

Folding yourself so you sat criss cross, you pulled out the trigger point massager debating which end to use.

“What’s that?” Bucky asked as he watched you.

“It helps me get the knots out of the hard to reach places without putting me in more pain. It was a lifesaver when Nat decided I needed to be able to do a full rings performance.”

“Um. Why?”

“They needed me to go in as a gymnastics coach for the men’s team. Had to prove myself.”

“Wow. You’re something else.”

You sighed out your thanks as you hit the knot just the right way to get it to release. Bucky eyed you curiously trying to figure out if it would help him, but also not wanting to ask. You had to bite your tongue to keep from offering it; you knew he was apt to refuse.

“Y/n, can you come help me with dinner?” Sam called.

“Coming, Sammy!”

You started to push yourself to your feet but your arms buckled and you fell back onto your butt with a grunt.

“Need a hand?” Bucky teased, already on his feet.

“No,” you tried again with similar results. “Alright, maybe I could use some help,” you finally sigh.

Chuckling, you grabbed both of Bucky’s hands as he hauled you to your feet.

“Thanks, Buck,” you breathed, caught off guard by the spark the contact gave you.

“Any time, doll,” he promised quietly, earning him a bright smile.

Neither of you had let go yet.

“Shake a leg, y/n!”

You rolled your eyes at Sam’s impatience.

“I’ll see you at dinner, Bucky.”

“See you.”

You squeezed his fingers lightly before releasing him. You tucked the foam roller and massager into the corner next to the couch and slipped out of the room, humming as you went.

“So did he go for it?” Sam asked as he handed you an onion to chop.

“We’ll see.”

 Bucky stared at his hands for a moment; he’d felt a spark when he touched you. And he was almost certain you did too. It was the most contact the two of you had had since you joined the team six months prior, and it damn near knocked Bucky on his butt.

Shaking away the distraction he moved to return to his book, but hesitated as he looked at the massager. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt if he tried it. You had always been very generous with things far more valuable and personal than this. Bucky picked up the massager and settling the curve over his shoulder gasped in relief as it hit where he needed it immediately.

This particular pain had been plaguing him for weeks and to feel it recede was nearly euphoric.

 When you passed by the common room to call everyone for dinner, you noticed Bucky was no longer there and your massager was precisely where you’d left it. Frowning, you gathered everyone you could and asked FRIDAY to call the rest.

Bucky and Steve were the last to join the table, laughing boisterously as they entered. You could see the lightness in him as he sat next to Natasha, and Sam shot you a knowing smile. And, if you happened to notice a massager of his own arrive in the mail a few days later, you didn’t mention it. If you did everything in your power to have more casual contact with Bucky, then you didn’t mention that either.  

The phantom pain was the worst in Bucky’s opinion. All of the other aches and pains he could at least try to alleviate them. But the phantom pain, he simply had to wait it out. Sometimes he would try to work out until his body was exhausted, but still the pain came. So he turned to distraction.

Which is how he found himself sitting in the common room glaring at the television on his third round of channel surfing through nine thousand eight hundred and twelve stations. This was after nearly an hour of searching Netflix for anything to hold his attention.

“Hey, Bucky,” you chirped as you breezed into the room.

He merely grunted out a hello.

“I made tea. Thought you might want some,” you explained as you raised the deep blue mug that he favored.

A smidgen of his gruffness slipped away in the face of your thoughtfulness.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

You smiled and handed him the mug before preparing to retreat to your room to give him some peace and quiet.

“Did you – I mean, you’re welcome to sit. I mean stay if you want. I was just going to find something mindless to watch.”

Your bright smile continued to chip away at the pain induced grumpiness.

“I’d love to.”

You grabbed your favorite blanket and wrapped it around you before settling on the couch to his left.

Bucky tensed as you took your seat. His left side was always left open, he felt caged in, waiting for you to remember the horrible atrocities that hand had borne witness to and get as far as way from it as you can.

But instead you plucked the remote from his metal hand, unthinkingly brushing against it without so much as a flinch. Bucky wasn’t sure what to make of that, but it relaxed him.  

“So what did you wanna watch?” you asked as you blew on your tea and opened the app menu.  

“I dunno. Any suggestions?”

“Well my favorite brainless show is Galavant.”

“What’s that about?”

“It is a comedy musical extravaganza,” you quoted the tag line. “Basically Monthy Python meets Princess Bride meets my high school drama club.”

Bucky chuckled at the explanation.

“You were in the drama club?”

“Yes, I was.”

“Please tell me your performances are on video.”

“Even if they were, they would not see the light of day.”

“Why not? I bet you were adorable.”

The words slipped out without him thinking about it, and you turned quirking an eyebrow and trying to hide a smile at the blush rising on his cheeks.

“I just mean, I’m sure you were a great actress. You’re one of the best spies we have.”

“Believe it or not, that’s a skill not a talent.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d still love to see that footage.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes.

“I bet you would, Barnes. But they are under lock and key.”

“So they do exist!”

“Let’s just watch Galavant?”

Bucky yielded with a triumphant smile.

“Let’s give it a shot. It certainly sounds interesting.”

“Yay.”

Bucky was skeptical throughout the first couple of episodes.

“It gets better,” you promised ardently when you glanced over after the third episode.  

“I’m sure it does,” he hummed, sipping on his tea to hide his smile. “This is really good. What kind is it?”

“It’s a mix of chamomile, lavender, a little lemon, and a touch of peppermint. It’s my favorite. Always helps relax me after missions.”

Between the tea and your enthusiastic sing along during the first season, Bucky’s focus was slowly diverted from the lingering ache in his arm.

When you had started yawning, you readjusted your blanket and snuggled into his side unthinkingly. You had fallen asleep shortly after. He left his arm along the back of the couch, and angled his body slightly so your head rested on his chest instead of the hard metal of his shoulder joint. He turned off the TV, content to watch you as you slept. Soon though your deep even breaths soothed him and he fell asleep as well.

 The first thing Bucky became aware of as he woke up was a weight on his chest. Your head was pillowed just above his heart and you were sound asleep.  The second thing he noticed, but couldn’t quite believe, was that your right hand was interlaced with his left and resting on your stomach.

You were completely at peace and he had no idea what to do, so he stayed still watching you. Your other thumb stroked lightly along his forearm as you cuddled the metal like a teddy bear. Bucky hadn’t experienced this much tenderness since before the war. He hadn’t experienced this much casual affection ever.

He watched as your fingers flexed ever so slightly between his. If he closed his eyes he could feel warmth and the softness of your touch. And for the first time since he fell from the train, he wished a phantom feeling would last forever.

Over the next few weeks you always seemed to manage to brush up against his metal arm in some way – passing food at dinner, or reaching for the elevator button at the same time. Dozens of times. And each time Bucky’s heart would beat just a little bit faster.

But then a mission went wrong. You’d been posing as a married couple vacationing in the Cayman Islands as you tried to get close to the banker for a number of the major criminal syndicates around the world.

Pretending to be in love with Bucky Barnes was easy when you were halfway to actually being in love with him. You were close to the end of the mission when there was a problem and you had to drop Bucky’s hand and distance yourself from him. It brought enough attention that you got made. And soon you were fighting for your life.

It had been a week since the mission and Bucky hadn’t spoken a word to you since debrief. Today was the first time you saw him for more than three minutes as he sat on the floor fiddling with the wiring in his wrist while his arm kit lay open in front of him on the coffee table as you, Steve, Sam, and Clint were playing gin.  

Steve was watching you sneak glances at Bucky. You had tried to find him to apologize, but when Bucky Barnes didn’t want to be found. He wasn’t.  

“Gin!” You announced happily.

“Again?” Sam groaned.

“Tally up, boys.”

“Seventy-five,” Clint grimaced before tossing his cards on the table and turning his attention to Bucky, concerned by the odd sparks coming from his arm.

“Whatcha up to, terminator?”  

“My arm hasn’t been working right since I got shocked on that last mission,” he replied without looking up.

“What do you mean not working?” Sam asked.

“Can’t really control it. My touch is too light or too harsh. I can’t regulate it.”  

“That didn’t happen last time you got hit,” Sam observed.

“Yeah, but last time I wasn’t shoved into a lake while being electrocuted.”

The younger man hummed, dipping his head in acknowledgment. You grimaced knowing it was your fault he got pushed in the lake.

“Should we call Shuri?” Steve worried.

“It’s fine. I’m sure I can fix it.”

“It’s been a few days now.”

“Drop it, Steve,” Bucky nearly growled.

“Did you try turning off and back on again?” Clint offered before he and Sam broke out into a fit of laughter.  

“Maybe you should stick it in some rice.”

“Enough,” Steve warned as Bucky gathered his things and headed for the door.

“Come on, Barnes, we’re only joking.”

“It’s not a joke! Just leave me alone. None of you know what it’s like living with this… this thing every day,” Bucky shouted as he rushed out of the room.

Steve made to go after him but you stopped him, with a gentle hand to his chest.

“I’ll go.”

“Y/n.”

“Steve, it’s time,” you told him pointedly.

Narrowing his eyes, Steve nodded after a moment of internal debate.

“Your choice.”

Offering him a reassuring smile, you turned towards the elevator.

“Y/n,” Clint murmured, making you pause. “Tell Barnes we’re sorry.”

“We didn’t realize it was an over the line day.”

“I’ll tell him,” you agreed.

You hurried towards the elevator, leaving the apologetic superheroes behind.

“Seventh floor please, FRIDAY.”

“Yes, Agent Y/l/n.”

Stepping out onto Steve and Bucky’s floor, you took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

“Go away!” He shouted from deep within the room.  

“Bucky, it’s me. Please can I come in?”

“Just leave me alone, doll,” he insisted but you could tell he was just behind the door this time.

“Bucky, please. I just want to help.”

Silence.

But you weren’t ready to give up yet, so you leaned against his door.

He only lasted a couple of minutes before unlocking the door and allowing you in. His head hung low as you stepped past him and he recoiled when you reached to comfort him so you let your hand drop.

“Can I take a look? I think I can help.”

“I tried all of the normal fixes, and last time I checked you weren’t a biomechanical engineer so I’m not really sure how you can help,” he explained, trying to hustle you out the door.

You tried not to be annoyed by his dismissiveness, but it ruffled you nonetheless. If only he knew.

“I may not be an engineer but I have a lot of experience with prosthetics. I understand-“

“Oh really?” he snapped, frustration getting the better of him. “What the hell do you understand? Do you understand the phantom pain and the way my skin feels like it’s still ripping apart? Do you know how it feels when you have a part of you that you can’t control sometimes? Do you understand how much I wish I didn’t have to be afraid of touching someone with this thing? No? Then just leave me alone,” he growled, though the despair cut through the bite.

“Bucky.”

“Please, doll. Just go.”

His head hung low and his tone was utterly defeated.

“Bucky, I do understand you. I understand all of those things,” you murmured.  

“How could you possibly?”

There was an almost hopeful undercurrent to the disbelieving question as his eyes met yours.  

“Because they happen to me too,” you sighed softly as you extended your right arm in front of you, tapping your pulse point twice to disable the holograft.

Bucky’s eyes widened as the graft retracted into a thin bracelet of rose gold, which matched your newly revealed arm.

“Wha-, how? When?” he stumbled over the questions as he examined your arm.

“I was stationed at a base hospital. There was an accident with the autoclave they used to sterilize the instruments. The steel door blew off and pinned me to the ground, which I probably would have gotten out of, but the impact sent a ton of heavy equipment piling on top of me. By the time they got me out, the damage was done and they had to amputate.”

“That’s… I had no idea.”

“Most people don’t,” you agreed quietly, averting your eyes and resisting the urge to hide your arm behind your back.

“Who does know?”

“Natasha who recruited me. Tony who built my arm and the holograft. And Steve because it glitched out on a mission and he paid the price. Like you almost did.”

“What?” he asked, his brows furrowing.

You finally looked at him.

“When we were undercover last week and I yanked away, it was because my arm was glitching and I could control my fine motor skills anymore. The last time it happened to Steve I actually managed to fracture a few of his bones. I forgot that you wouldn’t have the same problem.”

“So I didn’t hurt you?”

His body was tense as he waited for your answer.

“Oh no. Of course not.”

You heart sank to the floor as he shoulders slumped in relief.  

“Bucky, is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” you asked softly.

He nodded, meeting your gaze through his lashes.

“I thought I hurt you and that’s why you pulled away.”

You were shaking your head before he could finish his sentence.

“No. No. Oh I’m so sorry you felt that way. I didn’t want to hurt you. When it all went to shit, I regretted not telling you so much.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Honestly? Because I didn’t think you’d take me coming up to you and saying ‘hey, I’ve got a metal arm too let’s be friends’ as a good first impression.“

Bucky chuckled at the mental image you conjured eyes crinkling as they found yours.

“It certainly would have been memorable. But I suppose that’s fair.”

You hummed softly as you waited for his next move.

“So all of the things you did for me… the massager, the tea, the weirdass show?”

“All things that worked for me. And Galavant is a treasure,” she added as an afterthought.

Pursing his lips deepened his frown.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Bucky. You didn’t know.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he argued. “I never should have yelled at you or taken my frustrations out on you. Please accept my apology.”

His oceanic eyes implored you.

“Of course. It’s all forgotten.”

“Thank you. I owe the guys an apology for today.”

“They understand,” you assured him. “They said their sorry.”

“Still, I should-“

He turned towards the door but you quickly moved in front of him.

“Will you sit your butt down.”

Bucky was shocked by the authority in your tone and immediately complied without thinking, plopping down on the nearest surface which happened to be the bed.

“Now, can I please look at your arm?” you asked softly.

If he still truly didn’t want your help you would back off.

Bucky nodded his assent, swallowing harshly.

“Where’s your kit?”

“On the desk.”

Grabbing the small screwdriver and a set of tweezers from the worn leather pouch, you sat on the bed next to him and got to work.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you mumbled as you focused on tracing the currents in his arm.

“Why do you always wear the skin graft?”

You were quiet as you thought about your answer.

“From a tactical standpoint, I’d stick out like a sore thumb. So it’s a necessity on missions.”

“But around the team?”

“I wanted one less thing for them to make assumptions about when I joined I guess.”

Before Bucky could ask what you meant, you continued on.

“After the accident, things were hard. It was a major loss, and I wasn’t quite sure how to cope. I didn’t think my life could ever be normal again. But my rehab team were great and they’ve made such amazing advances in prosthetics that life was different but it was okay. I found a new normal, and I could live my life the way I wanted to for the most part. But other people when they met me couldn’t see that. It was like I was nothing more than my arm and my accident. So when Natasha recruited me and Tony offered me the holograft I took it.”

“A chance at normal.”

“Exactly. Fortunately, I’m not known for my metal arm so no one questioned it.”

You offered him a sympathetic smile, knowing he would likely never have the luxury of anonymity. Baseball caps and sunglasses weren’t as good of a disguise as some super soldiers might think.

“This is true. Do you hate it?” Bucky almost whispered and you froze.

The super soldier’s eyes darted to yours when you didn’t speak and your hands stilled.

“I did. For a long time. I’ve known a lot of friends who’ve lost limbs, lost lives, because of i.e.d.’s and landmines, so honestly I did my two tours expecting to not come home in one piece. The fact that it was a random accident in a low risk assignment, made me feel like I’d swum across an entire ocean just to drown in a wave pool. I hated that it made me feel weak. But over time, it became a part of my life. And after attending too many funerals my life was more than enough to be thankful for. And now, I get to use my arm to help people. So no, I don’t hate it. Not anymore.”

Bucky was quiet as he observed you, trying to sort out all of the new information. You returned your attention to his arm, carefully ferreting out the problem.

“Aha! Gotcha. Little piece of… there.”

You stripped out a bit of exposed wiring and tightened a bolt and eighth of an inch.

“That should do it,” you announced. “How does it feel?”

Bucky swung his arm in a wide circle and flexed his fingers.

“Much better. What was wrong?”

 “The shock fried on of the connections that translates the electrical impulses from your nerves. It made it hypersensitive.”

“Thank you, doll.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help.”

You returned the tools to his kit, taking your time to precisely arrange them so you could try to think of what to say next.

“How are your tactile sensations?” You asked when you sat down on the bed again.

“They feel okay, but I should probably test it to see. Make sure it works on precious things.”

“Got anything precious nearby?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky cautiously raised his hand toward you.

“May I?”

You nodded, holding your breath.

The silver hand continued its path to your cheek, cradling your face tenderly as you leaned into his touch.

“You are beautiful. And I have to thank you for being there in quiet ways when I wasn’t ready to ask for help.”

“You’re welcome. I hope you know how much we all care about you. I hope you know how much I care about you.”

“I do.”

Slowly pulling away from your cheek, you pouted until Bucky threaded his silver fingers through your rose gold ones as he lifted your right hand. Admiring the delicate craftsmanship and the way it caught the light, he gently turned it so he could press a kiss to your knuckles.

You gasped at the sensation. The holograft, much like a glove, dulled your sense of touch. The feeling of his lips against your hand was overwhelming.  

“This feels…” you breathed unable to find the words.

“Right,” Bucky supplied. “It feels right.”

You nodded, swiping at tears.

“Like it’s the way it’s meant to be. Your hand in mine,” you mused quietly.

Bucky’s answering smile was brilliant as he squeezed your fingers.

“That’s because it is.”

~~~~~~~~ The End 

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. And @ashhys-lost-in-fanfics-again​ I hope that I did your request justice. Thank you again for the request, I loved writing. Will reblog with Tags 

[gallavictorious]

I loved Gallavich in 10x08 but struggled quite a bit with them in 10x09 and 10x10 (even if I personally loved the brawl proposal), partly because Mickey's behaviour in regards to Byron makes me cringe so hard, and partly because we don't get a proper explanation for how Ian goes from ”how do you know you love me” to ”and if you let me...  “ and this bugs me.

However, never let it be said that I'm not ready to do whatever interpretative work needs to be done  for my favourite couple to make sense, so here it is:

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Episodes.

(Disclaimer: I'm just now watching season 10 in its entirerty and you guys have been at this for a while. If you've heard it all before, please be patient with a newbie who just really needs to sort through her thoughts and emotions.)

Now, I know that many fans would have preferred Byron to actually like Mickey, and I've seen pre-episode 10x10 takes where people theorized that Byron, rather than list all the ways Mickey sucks would list all the way he soars, thus leading to an eavesdropping Ian's realization that he needs to be with Mickey forever. And while that would have been very sweet in its own way – I am myself very much here for more people appreciating Mickey – I think it would ultimately have been far less realistic, for two reasons: 1, Mickey was never going to treat Byron well, and 2, Ian's reservations about getting married were never rooted in a lack of love for Mickey.

Mickey's cringe-worthy treatment of Byron stems from him trying to perform two different roles at the same time: he strives to be demonstratively affectionate whenever they're in front of Ian, but this reads as fundamentally false becuase this is not how Mickey normally shows affection. But Mickey's usual mode of loving communication is both far less overt than this, and thus less fit for the purpose, but also something he would never allow Byron to experience, because Mickey being loving is largely tied to Mickey allowing himself to be vulnerable, to be open and himself, and since Byron is not someone he trusts, or even respects, that's never going to happen. I'd argue that Mickey chooses Byron exactly because he perceives Byron as ”weak” and so someone he can use for his own means without Byron putting up a fight about it - but at the same time, associating with this ”weakness” actualizes all of Mickey's internalized ideas about strenght, manliness, South Side, etc, which leads him to revert back to his extra special thuggish behaviour in order to continually establish dominance and distance himself from the more effeminate homosexuality Byron represents. So, he treats Byron rather nastily, while at the same time employing conventional means of demonstrating affection whenever Ian's around, which serves both as a means to show oh god, how very very much in love with Byron he is, and as a means to always maintain a distance from Byron himself. Which is actually very realistic, given what we know of Mickey, but makes for a whiplash watching experience, and yes. Cringe.

And I'm pretty sure Mickey isn't even trying to fool Ian here: he doesn't expect Ian to believe that he has suddenly fallen in love with someone else. (So again, the unconvincing declarations of love on Mickey’s part serves a purpose here; they’re unconvincing on purpose, if maybe not alway consciously so.) This is an act calculated to provoke a response, becaue he needs Ian to prove something to him, to fight for him. (This bit, about Mickey needing a grand gesture rather than words have been discussed by many others in more articulate ways, so I'm not going to dwell on that.)

But regardless: everything Ian overhears Byron say is true (well, apart from the dumb bit – but I think Byron can be forgiven for not getting that, becaues I doubt Mickey made any effort at all to put his smarts on display, and our boy sure does act dumb from time to time). So why is hearing Byron say it enough to spur Ian into the grand gesture Mickey is looking for? Sure, we all get really pissed when hear others talk smack about the ones we love, but Ian's reluctance to marry was never rooted in Ian doubting his feelings for Mickey, so realizing that ”oh, I need to beat this one up because he's mean to my man” can hardly be the catalysator here. Actually, I don't think it is the catalysator – it just paves the way for the moment that is.

Bear wih me for a while:

That Mickey believes that it's Ian's feelings for him that waver isn't hard to understand: Ian has left him, multiple times, and considering how hard he went for the ”if we love and trust each other the maybe this decision isn't that hard” I absolutely get that Mickey, when Ian backs out, comes to the conclusion that Ian does not, in fact, love and/or trust him, at least not enough. But Ian does, and he verbally reaffirms that throughout these and the previous episodes. Does his insecurity, then, stem from an uncertainty that Mickey will be able to love him throughout his highs and lows? This is what he tries to tell Mickey when the whole promise rings thing fall apart, and I get that it pisses Mickey off, because hasn't Mickey already demonstrated, again and again, that he will stick by Ian, no matter what? Is Ian really so dense and insecure as not to see that?

I actually think that Ian absolutely knows that Mickey will stand by him through thick and thin, and this scares him because what if he develops into someone that Mickey no longer can love but feels obligated to stay with anyway? Ian hates being helpless; Ian hates being a victi; Ian hates feeling indebted to people because that implies he can't take care of himself, and I think that nothing terrifies him more than being a project, or being someone people stay with because they pity him or worry that he can't take care of himself. The issue here, I think, is that he doesn't trust Mickey to leave.

Why this would would be a bigger problem than it already is if they were married I don't quite get, but marriage typically speaks of a stronger and more formal committment and so is even harder to break up from, maybe? Hm. This part I haven't quite figured out yet.

Anyhow. Ian's problem is that he is scared that Mickey will stick with him even when Mickey really would rather leave, Mickey's problem – apart from him being pretty nasty to Byron – is that he wants a Grand Gesture and Proof of Love from Ian, because just expressions of love doesn’t cut it with him. This, I think, is not the proposal, but the fact that Ian shows up with a fake date. This obvious attempt at making Mickey jealous is enough to prove to Mickey that yeah, this means something to Ian too. Particularly since it comes right at the heels of Mickey experiencing a moment of true fear, when Ian announces his new partner: what if this is real, what if Mickey took things too far, what if he fucked this up? But then he sees Cole (who is, btw, awesome) and he sees Ian's face, and he knows exactly what Ian is up to. I think it was fiona-fififi who noted that they both realize that they'll be going home togheter this evening, even though they also have to go through the movements of a proper reconciliation. I tend to think of this as Mickey knowing they're going to make up, because he's prepared for that now, but Ian doesn't know it, yet. Mickey's just waiting for the opportune moment, and he's probably feeling a bit insecure, too, because how do you make the first move after all this?

But then, when Ian tops the whole thing off by beating up Byron (which Byron really didn't deserve, becaue after what Mickey put him through, he has earned the right to badmouth him – even if he is a coward for not just making Mickey leave), yeah, that's Mickey done for, that was all he needed. When he walks over to the pile of bodies, going ”hey”, that's an overture of peace: at this point, Ian doesn't actually need to propse to win him back. That is already a done deal.

I think Ian knows this too. I actually need Ian to know this too, because otherwise it will forever feel like he agreed to something he really didn't want just to have Mickey back, and this doesn't sit right with him. But then the question remain – why the fuck did he propose? What changed, that he suddenly felt confident enough in Mickey's ability to leave that he felt comfortable formalizing their union?

Maybe it's the simple fact that Mickey did leave. When he felt himself unfairly treated by Ian, he did leave and hooked-up with someone else. Admittedly and obviously in an attempt to get back at Ian, but he stubbornly stuck with it through Ian's various attempts at getting him back. Mickey is utterly in love with and devoted to Ian, but he's no wiltering flower: he will stand up for himself, and if he feels like he's not being treated right, he sure as hell will make certain Ian hears about this. Seeing Mickey standing there over him, returned only now that Ian has satisifed his need for proof of love, I think this is what Ian finally gets. This, in combination with feeling on a very deep and visceral level that he never wants Mickey to walk away and have to return again, is what prompts the proposal.

And hey - maybe he's still not completely sure about this whole getting married business, but he is sure about Mickey, so he's prepared to take the leap. Mickey may be rough in a lot of ways, but he's perfect for Ian in a way that no one else has ever been, and that's worth taking a chance on.

Anyway, this is what I think I think at the moment. Maybe I'll think something else in a while? Do you have thoughts? I'd love to hear them.

TL;DR Everything that happened in 10x09 and 10x10 actually makes sense and are in character, but should I really have to work this hard to get that?